belletrist

The morning sun streaming through the curtains woke Steve up. A light sleeper himself, he wasn't bothered by that, but he arose to shut them tighter before it woke you up. 

(gif made by me)

He knew how precious your sleep was in your condition. He turned around to see you in deep sleep, cuddling your body pillow on one side while he occupied the other side until he arose. He saw you frown at the loss of his warmth and smiled softly at the adorable pout on your face. He couldn't resist kissing your brow, resting his lips there till your frown smoothed out. 

He fussed with the covers, trying to compensate for the loss of his body heat. He got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and left the bedroom to make breakfast for you. 

He knew from experience that although you loved pancakes of all kinds, your baby made you crave blueberry pancakes. He got to work on making them and started the coffee machine as well. 

His sharp ears caught the sound of your feet padding into the kitchen. He kept his back turned to you, however, hoping with a smile to himself that you’d come to him. 

And go to him you did, yawning and rubbing your eyes, sleepily seeking your husband’s warmth. You hugged his bare back, groaning when your pregnant belly got squished between you two and didn’t let you get as close to him as you wanted to be. 

“Steeb,” you whined, rubbing your nose between his shoulder blades. Steve smiled and pulled you into a half hug, slotting you up against his flank. You whined once again, wanting a bear hug. Sighing, he put his spatula down and obliged. “Why are you up, sweetie?” he asked in his gravelly morning voice. 

“Why are you?” came your reply against his chest. Steve chuckled and rocked you gently. “You know I don’t need much sleep, right?” he mumbled into the crown of your head, his hands stroking your hair and back, occasionally squeezing your lower back where he knew it hurt you a lot lately. “Mmm, yes, but you left and I was cold,” you whined again, burrowing your nose in his pillowy pecs. Steve kissed your head and whispered softly. “I’m sorry, sweetie. How’s the little bub?” 

“Still sleeping, but I bet either your voice or the smell of the pancakes will wake him,” you whispered back so as not to disturb his sleep. 

“Alright then, mama, have a seat at the table, I’ll bring you your coffee.”

“Decaf?” you checked with him. Coffee was your favorite thing in the world (Steve was a close second, although once the baby arrived, he was going to get demoted to number 3). It crushed you not to be able to partake in it due to the morning sickness, hence the decaf version. It had to do for now. 

Steve made a face that said, ‘obviously’ as he handed you the mug. The first sip breathed some life into you, and you sat up straighter, striking up a conversation with your husband about your trip to the gyno on the compound. “So… the doctor believes our baby boy will be here sooner than expected.” 

“Really?” Steve’s excited blue eyes turned on you, and you secretly prayed, not for the first time, that the baby inherits his beautiful eyes. 

You nodded. He had missed the appointment yesterday due to some work-related emergency and he was bummed about it. He was eager to hear all the details to make up for it. “Mmm-hmm. She said he’s growing faster than an average human child. So there’s a high chance I’ll be at full term before the usual nine months.” 

Steve went still. “Should we be worried?” 

You sighed, “No, Steve, it’s all under control. Apparently, he inherited your, um, serum enhancements, so…the theory is that his rapid growth is because of your rapid healing abilities. His cells grow faster or something like that.” Steve hummed, taking it all in. You perked up at your next statement. “And turns out I was right about my theory. The one about him being able to hear and smell things and respond.”

“Nah-”

“He recognised Bucky the other day.”

“That was a lucky chance-”

You two talked over each other as you bantered. Just then, you were interrupted by FRIDAY, the compound’s sentient AI. “Captain, sorry to bother you on your day off, but there are reports of a level 6 emergency..”

Like the flick of a switch, Steve's entire demeanor changed right before your eyes. Gone was the doting husband; in his place stood an Avenger. He stood protectively before you as if blocking you from any disturbing news. You didn't need to see or hear that in your state.  

"Do we have visuals?" he asked the AI. A flat projector screen descended from your ceiling, broadcasting the visuals STARK satellites might have gathered about the aforementioned incident. Steve didn't utter another word, just stood there taking it all in, his fists clenched by his sides the only indication of his rage. His voice was deceptively even when he said his next words, "Has Stark been alerted?"

"He's already on his way."

"Get the Quinjet ready,"

“Copy that, Captain. I’ll alert the others to gather in the briefing room,” Steve had already started towards your bedroom, and you guessed it was to fetch his uniform and weapons. You stood there for a moment, feeling helpless. You wanted to help him with every fiber of your being, but you knew that in your current state, you’d only slow him down and get in the way. 

But you still waddled to the hallway where you knew he had stored his holster and belt. You grabbed them and handed both to him as he left the bedroom, his uniform already donned. 

“Thanks, doll,” he breathed, and you stood on your tippy-toes trying to put the shoulder straps on him. He turned around and bent slightly so you could do it properly. Next, you helped him don the belt around his waist, and when you were done, you raised your doleful eyes at him. 

It was like the frantic energy of the room paused the moment your eyes met his. “Doll,” he sighed, “I know what you’re gonna say. I promise I’ll be careful. But I don’t have much time now. Thousands of lives are at stake.” You nodded, after all, you were well aware of what they all dealt with, thanks to your job (which you had taken a maternity sabbatical from) as a field analyst to the Avengers' core team. That’s how you had met and fallen in love with the hard-headed Captain, who was now your husband, Steve. 

You sighed and cast your gaze downward. Above your head, Steve did the same and then cupped your face with his hands. As you gazed up at him this time, your eyes were brimming with tears. Ever since you dated and later married Steve, you’ve had to see him off for countless missions, but that didn’t make the angst of separation any easier. Steve attributed it to your pregnancy hormones, but you knew better. He gave you a small smile and pressed his lips against yours in a deep yet quick kiss, stealing your breath away. “Love you,” he brushed those words against your lips while resting his forehead against yours. His body jerked as he made to pull away, but before he fully detached himself, he caressed your belly gently, “Love you too, bub. Be good for Momma, okay?” His words brought on another sob from you, but Steve had already overextended his goodbyes. With another caress to your cheeks, he parted, clipped his shield to his back, and broke out in a jog towards the briefing room.

Your feet rushed after him as if pulled by a magnet. Steve knew you would follow him to the door. “Don’t do anything stupid till I get back,” he threw over his shoulder at you as he continued sprinting. You smiled a watery smile at his retreating form, fully aware of the context. 

You stayed rooted to your spot in the doorway for an unknown amount of time, cradling your belly and lost in your thoughts. Movement from your son catapulted you into action as you decided to finish your breakfast. Going back to your cold coffee and pancakes, your mind was still reeling with worry for Steve’s safety. 

You were assigned to him after emerging as the most efficient field analyst hired by the Avengers HQ in the last year. You swiftly got promoted until you reached that stage, which your coworkers coveted as the ultimate goal. On the day of your induction, Tony had quipped that your chair was not the throne your coworkers made it seem like, but a chair of thorns, and that you’d need all the luck in the world to last even three months. His words rang true because Captain America was nearly impossible to work with. Not only was he technologically challenged, but he was also incredibly stubborn and reckless. He repeatedly ignored your inputs. He deliberately swerved left when you specifically told him over comms to go right. “Soldier’s instinct,” he would always argue. At first, his insubordination drew you up the wall, but slowly, you came to see it for what it was. It didn’t stem from arrogance as you wrongly assumed, but from his innate hardwiring to place the mission and his teammates’ safety above his own. When you took a deliberate step back from your anger, frustration, and annoyance at his actions, you saw a true leader and a selfless hero.

It went downhill from that point, where you struggled to maintain professionalism around him. Your admiration went from respect to crush to obsession to full-blown love. He was not oblivious to it, of course, and neither did he pretend to be. He went from exchanging just short of curse words with you on comms to actually listening to you on the field, from curt nods when he passed you in hallways to full-blown smiles. He insisted on your sitting in on the Avengers’ core meetings, opened doors and pulled chairs for you at those, much to everyone else’s silent amusement. Tony would loudly complain to you about the Captain’s foul moods on the rare occasions you took a day off and he had to work with a substitute. You were unofficially promoted to his personal assistant when he refused to hire another person to take care of his off-field responsibilities. “She just gets me like no one else can. We’re a team,” he had said with such a dazzling smile and shining eyes that you didn’t have the heart to turn down the huge pile of paperwork that implied. 

Everything escalated quickly when one day he was brought in from a tough mission to you chewing your nails and pacing the room. His comms had died out, and one by one, the team had started trickling in. You were guiding Sam Wilson in his aerial surveillance in looking for Captain Rogers. After 11 harrowing hours, the medic brought him in, barely conscious and severely injured. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, let alone sleep or eat, till you saw him in the flesh. Thankfully, his serum ensured that he was already healing in the Quinjet on his way over, able to prop himself up with some help. You marched in, and when you saw him, you could have either slapped him or kissed him, but instead, you let all hell loose and yelled at him as if he were a 5-year-old. Steve listened patiently to you ranting and losing your mind until you were close to ripping your hair out, at which point he pushed himself up into a sitting position using all his remaining strength, grabbed you, and kissed you soundly on the lips. “I knew it,” he had said, “I knew I was more than a job to you,” he had smirked after you reciprocated his kiss, and then promptly blushed and hid in his chest. “That means you’re gonna lose your best partner on the job,” you had mumbled, knowing the implications. “Never mind,” he had said as he dropped back down on his stretcher, “I’m gaining my best girl for life, hopefully.” You remembered his smile as he was carted away into the medbay. 

Cut to the present moment, you sighed as you bit into your cold breakfast, running a hand on your belly. “I wish you could read my mind, bubs,” you spoke to your son in your belly. “I just finished thinking about how I met your father.” It made sense to you now, why your goodbyes never became easier for you. With you stepping down as his assigned analyst (You insisted to Tony, citing ‘lack of objectivity’ when Steve flirted with you on missions more than once. You had to remind him, much to your chagrin, that your conversations weren’t exactly private). You had relinquished control of how he maneuvered himself on the field. You could no longer see him in action on the screen, sort of watching over him and ensuring his six was always covered. It was calming to your nerves to have that semblance of reassurance, but with that gone, you were just as helpless as any other military wife. 

But you weren’t complaining. The moment you and Steve began dating, you became an unofficial member of the Avengers. It felt odd at first, no longer being starstruck by the rest of them or squirming when they asked you to drop the honorifics and not act so professional around them. The boys all treated you like a delicate doll, seeing as you were not enhanced in any way. Some nights, you lay in bed pinching yourself, not able to believe that you had just returned from a pajama movie night with Wanda, Nat, and Pepper. Unreal.

As you reminisced about your relationship with Steve leading up to this moment, your child kicked you. “I know, bubs, do you miss Daddy already? I know I do,” you sighed. “It’s just…something about this mission doesn’t seem right to me,” you frowned, feeling unsettled. “Call it an analyst’s instinct but….I’ve got a bad gut feeling about this,” you muttered to yourself. “Oh, who am I kidding, no offense, bubs, but you’re just a smol bean, talking to you is not gonna help me, I need to talk to one of your uncles. Or aunties. Let’s go,” you made up your mind, pushed yourself out of your chair, and dumped the remaining cold coffee in the sink. 

You marched, no, waddled out, determined to find the first person on the staff to get in on this mission. Lady Luck must be shining on you because you crossed paths with none other than Bucky Barnes. 

“Hey, doll, where’s the fire?” he gave you his roguish half smile. 

“Bucky,” you breathed with relief. There was truly no better person to understand your predicament than your husband’s best friend. But wait a minute-

“Why aren’t you on the mission?” The uneasiness in your gut grew because this implied one less protector on the team. You knew very well that Bucky always had Steve’s back. Always.

“Well,” Bucky looked down at his prosthetic arm wistfully, “I busted the circuits in this thing on the last mission; it needs to be reprogrammed. So I’m benched.” 

Your frown deepened, and Bucky noticed that. “What’s up, doll?” he queried with his own frown. You decided to confide in him. “I have a gut feeling about this mission, Bucky. I need to know how it’s going.” 

Bucky looked at your face and your belly for a second before he replied. “You sure it’s not the little punk in there? Hi pal, it’s your uncle Bucky,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Bucky,” you sighed. “I’m sure it’s not. I just…can’t rest easy unless I know what’s going on.”

Bucky’s frown returned for a split second as he realized you were in no mood to joke. He smiled reassuringly, though, in the very next minute. “That’s easy, doll, and I’m surprised it didn’t strike you sooner,” he said as he started leading you away with him. You looked at him, puzzled. “The analyst’s bay, of course. You can ask your old pals on the staff about the updates, I’m sure they’ll be happy to provide them to you.” 

Bucky’s solution sounded good enough, although strangely it did nothing to settle your nerves. Nevertheless, you followed him, knowing that doing something rather than sitting on your hands will definitely ease your mind.

You reached the analytics bay and were surprised to see that it wasn’t buzzing with activity as you expected. Some of your ex-colleagues smiled at you from their desks, but nobody seemed to be in a rush or frantically giving remote guidance to the team. You saw Maria walking down one of the aisles, and you immediately stopped her. “Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I uh- wanted updates on the latest mission.” Maria cocked her head at you, her eyes softening. She measured her next words carefully before speaking, “I’m sorry, it’s a covert mission, and seeing as you’re no longer an analyst, you don’t have clearance to receive that information.” Knowing your hard-ass husband, you had anticipated this, sort of. But you weren’t about to give up. “Well, I don’t think I need clearance to know why the analysts aren’t working on the mission right now,” you gestured to the unhurried staff working around you. 

Maria sighed, knowing you could be as stubborn as your husband. “Look, I’m not saying this as the Chief of Ground Staff, but as your friend. Some analysts have traveled with the team on the Quinjet. They’ll be doing close surveillance as opposed to remote guidance. Captain’s orders,” She looked you square in the eye as she said it, hoping for it to be the final word on the matter. 

All the air left your lungs in a whoosh. Damn Steve. Trust him to hide important things from you. What was he thinking?

“I know what you’re thinking, doll,” Bucky broke you out of your reverie with a hand on your shoulder. “But can you blame him? If I had such precious cargo on the way,” he looked at your belly with eyes full of emotion, “I would do everything I could to make light of the situation. I would shield you from everything in the world if I could.”

“But that’s not how our partnership works, Bucky. It never has and it never will. And Steve knows that very well.” You said as you stomped out of the bay, one hand placed protectively on your bump. “Whatever he thought he was doing, he has succeeded in achieving the opposite. I’m even more worried than I was before. What started as a gut feeling is now a confirmation that things are bad.”

“Wait, where are you going, doll?” Bucky strode after you, trying to keep up with you. As if on autopilot, your feet were speed walking you over to the hangar. 

“Going to assist my husband on his mission, what does it look like?” You yelled at him over your shoulder. Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm. You winced as soon as you said it. You knew you could never outrun the Winter Soldier, your present condition notwithstanding. He was going to do everything in his power to stop you. You had to get him on your team. There was no other way.

“Doll,” Bucky cut through your path and held your arm. “What do you think you’re doing? In your condition? If Steve finds out you left the compound, and that too on my watch, he’ll kill me.”

“Bucky! I’m sorry, but I have to go. I would rather risk that than-” your bottom lip wobbled, “than Steve not c-c-oming home.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, doll, nothing’s gonna happen to him. This is not his first rodeo, alright? He knows what he’s doing, plus he’s not alone. In fact,” Bucky chuckled, going for humor again, “he once jumped out of a plane without his parachute and landed without a scratch on him.” Your mouth dropped open in horror, and Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm as he realized it was the wrong thing to say, “NOT HELPING BUCKY,” you yelled and started walking towards the hangar again.

“Doll, please don’t do this. You don’t have to. Everything’s under control. Do you see other spouses running to the hangar like this? This is reckless and stupid.”

You paused in your tracks and turned around to face him. “Bucky. If you bring my pregnancy hormones into this one more time, I swear to God,” you didn’t know what to threaten him with, but you hoped your voice carried enough menace in it. “I am not a concerned spouse. I was the best analyst on duty. I want to offer my services. Can’t you see? Analysts traveling with the team is completely unorthodox. This is more serious than they’re letting on. The team needs me. Now you have two choices. Help me and face Steve’s wrath, or do nothing and regret. Your choice. I’m going anyway; the least you can do is not try to stop me. Apart from that, you decide, and decide quickly. Time is slipping away.”

Bucky gulped and cursed to himself, shaking his head and following you. “I’m gonna kick my own ass before Steve does if this goes south.” 

You smiled and paced towards the Quinjet that was on standby. “Don’t do that just yet. I’m gonna need you to fly this thing.”

Bucky used his ID to unlock the jet and get into the cockpit. He fired up the engine, and immediately the plane was filled with FRIDAY’s disembodied voice. “Authorization request. State your name and mission.” 

“Sergeant James Barnes, codename Winter Soldier.”

“ID confirmed. Clearance granted. State your mission.”

“Uh, FRIDAY, I want you to pull up the recent mission logs,” Bucky racked his brain and spoke aloud a cryptic serial number. 

“Noted. The logs do not mention you being assigned to the mission, Sergeant. I’m sorry I can’t share the real-time status updates with you.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment before responding. “I have Core Team Clearance. Please overrule the lock FRIDAY.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ll have to obtain clearance from Mr. Stark for this. Contacting him right now.”

Oh no. This can’t be good. Before Bucky could open his mouth, you interjected. “FRIDAY, this is Y/N Rogers. We have intel that the team is going to need reinforcements. WE are the reinforcements. There’s no need to contact Tony and interrupt him on his mission.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll need to ID you.” Sighing, you spoke your credentials out loud. 

“Confirmed. My records confirm that you have Core Team Clearance, too. The rulebook allows me to override the need for further clearance.” The screen popped up with the coordinates of the team’s location. “Good luck, Sergeant, Mrs. Rogers.” 

Bucky fired up the engine, and the plane was ready for takeoff. “Uh, FRIDAY, one last thing, please relay this communication to base: DO NOT alert the field ops about our presence. The reinforcement is classified because we don’t want the hostiles to know. Do you copy?” Bucky ordered the AI. 

“I copy that, Sergeant,” and with that, you were off the tarmac and airborne. 

You fought the nausea that was imminent for a pregnant lady on a plane. It wasn’t as difficult as you suspected, seeing as you were a woman on a mission after all. 

About a couple of hours later, you were close to the site of the mission. Bucky turned on the reflectors so you could go undetected by the enemy. He landed as close as possible to the temporary base set up for the analysts at a distance from the location of the skirmish. The two of you were alarmed to see the signs of destruction already. There was a lot of debris, collapsed buildings, and totaled cars that you were making your way through. Once you reached the base, you ran inside and grabbed one of the analysts by the shoulders. “Which one of you is running ops for the Captain?” Startled, they pointed towards the right person, and you immediately darted over there. Some of them began protesting in murmurs, which were silenced by Bucky. He stood guard at the entrance with his rifle drawn. 

The analyst assigned to Steve was stunned to see you standing over him. He continued to gape at you. “Move!” you yelled, roughly grabbing him by the shoulder. He left his seat in a daze, and you quickly dropped into the chair vacated by him. You donned his headset, eyes scanning the screen even as you performed your other movements. 

God, it felt good to be back. It was all coming back to you via muscle memory. You were glad to know that you weren’t losing your touch. 

“Beagle, do you copy? Beagle! I need visuals,” your husband’s voice yelled over the comms, mentioning the code name of the previous operator. You could hear gunshots and explosions in the background. Typical. 

You took a deep breath to calibrate yourself to the task at hand. “Copy that, Captain, this is Desert Hawk,” you announced your call sign as per the protocol. For a moment, all you heard was static accompanied by deep breaths. You copied him, too, needing all your focus to remember that you had to separate your husband from your mission, intersected as they were. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” He exploded. You blinked.

Wow. You weren’t expecting that. You just assumed that you’ll catch him off guard mid-action and he’ll have no choice but to oblige. But he sounded furious. You gulped and squared your shoulders. 

“No time to explain. This is an emergency. Beagle is safe. I’ve taken over.”

"Abort mission, I’m gonna stop you right there, Desert Hawk. I want you to return to base immediately. IT’S AN ORDER,” He yelled. 

“With all due respect, Captain, you could use my expertise. Now I’m gonna have to overrule your direct order temporarily and comply with the sitrep demand,” you scanned the perimeter on your screen from his vantage point, looking for an opportunity to evacuate. Safe to say that you had earned your codename. You were an expert at spotting covert evac points. 

“I see a potential evac point 10 miles to your Southwest, Cap. I suggest you, Nat and Clint, I mean, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton, head over there, stat.”

“You do realize there’s a penalty for insubordination, right?” he growled in barely suppressed fury, completely ignoring the message you relayed. 

Oh boy. The situation was rapidly going south. Not good at all. 

“Roger that, Captain,” you tried your best to keep your voice from quivering. “May I repeat the message, sir?” 

“Oh, NOW you’re asking PERMISSION?” Okay. This you could not entertain. You were trying to be an analyst and not his wife, but your husband was hell-bent on quarreling as if it were your bedroom and not the battlefield. It was time to deflect. 

“Captain, do I need to remind you of the task at hand?” you stated in a raised tone before prattling off the coordinates again. 

“I heard you just fine the first time,” he grumbled, and a grenade went off too close to his earpiece. You gulped and winced. 

“Captain, PLEASE get out of there.”

“How many hostages?” He ignored you again. You sighed, cursed him, and relayed the information. And as was usual in your camaraderie with him, you gave him an additional nugget of advice. “Mr. Stark, Falcon, and War Machine will handle the evac of hostages aerially.” 

“Roger that,” he said in such a strained voice that you could picture his distended neck veins, which you saw in your arguments with him when he sounded exactly like that. “I repeat, Desert Hawk, I hope you recall the consequences of insubordination.”

“Y-yes, Captain. I do,” you gulped, knowing he was not gonna drop it till you acquiesced. 

“Damn right you do,” he growled under his breath but the comms picked it up nevertheless. Your panties grew damp at his low tone. A part of you wanted him there with you, right now, punishing you as he saw fit. 

“Captain, update your status.” You checked with him after a brief pause. 

“All clear. Sitrep update, stat,” he replied. 

“All clear for you to evac. Please relay your orders to the airborne team.”

“Copy that. I’ll see you in 10 minutes. Don’t. Move,” he said in a menacing voice, and then he turned the comms off. He actually, straight up, did that. You were so astounded that you threw your headset off. 

The rest of the time, you and the other analysts waited with bated breath. Sam and Nat were online, so you still had information pouring in. It looked like the situation was under control, much to your relief. 

Bucky was standing guard at the entrance. He straightened when your husband, Captain America himself, walked, no, practically burst in. 

(gif made by me)

The relief that you forgot to feel in the heat of the moment after hearing his voice for the first time came crashing down on you at the sight of him. He was bruised, bloody, and looking like a battle god. Fear and arousal clamored in your system, although they couldn’t overwhelm your relief. “Everyone! Leave us. Right now,” he commanded the rest of the room, without breaking eye contact with you. 

Chest heaving, you dared not utter a single word or take your eyes off him. You didn’t need to guess that he didn’t mean you by that. 

“Sergeant Barnes, you’ll transport the tech team to the base and immediately get back here.” He turned and looked at Bucky, whose eyes were shifting between you and Steve. “I’ll deal with you then,” he narrowed his eyes at his best friend. Bucky had no choice but to comply. He nodded and left, sparing one more concerned glance in your direction. 

“You’ll not punish Bucky, Steve,” you stated before your courage deserted you. “He didn’t act on his own accord.”

“QUIET!” He yelled so loudly he made you recoil in surprise. “I’m still your Captain, and you’ll address me as such. Do you understand?” 

You flinched but then nodded. “Use your words,” he stated with cold fury in his voice. 

“Y-yes, Captain.”

“As the leader of this mission, it is my responsibility to mete out punishments to insubordinate team members, and I’m dispensing it,” he said as he dropped his shield and took off his helmet. “But as your husband, I’m gonna have to be careful,” he added with a softness that betrayed his feelings. 

He turned, locked the door and windows, and then advanced on you. He marched straight into your personal space, crowding you against a table in the corner. “What were you thinking, huh? WHY did you put me in a situation like that? I was so scared when I heard your voice on comms that the shock alone would’ve killed me, had I been a lesser man. Didn’t even need bullets to take me out.” 

You had your eyes downcast, letting him have his moment. His rage was totally justified, and you knew it. But when you looked back up at him, you didn’t expect him to look pained. 

He looked so distraught that you stepped towards him and made to touch his cheek. He swatted your hand away. “What you did today cannot happen again, is that clear?” 

“On one condition.” Oh boy, you had some hubris. Even Steve narrowed his eyes at you. "You're in no position to-"

"I know." You held your palms up. "But hear me out. You'll not say a word to Bucky. Not a word. That's my condition."

Steve still stared at you. Breathing hard. But he didn't reply. 

"Please. I beg you," you choked out, tears pooling in your eyes. 

"Now that's more like it. Kneel." He said with a finality that brokered no argument. You complied, supporting your belly as you did so. 

"I'm gonna take your mouth, and I'm gonna take it hard. Tap my thigh if you can't breathe. Got it?" 

You nodded, looking up at him, eyes watery with unshed tears. Steve's cock lurched at the pretty sight that was you, on your knees at his mercy, begging. And round with his child. He felt the perverse pleasure of the moment surge through him and harden him further. 

He unzipped his pants, only letting his hard member out. The rest of him was still fully dressed. It was a first for you, too; you had never played while he was in his uniform. It was definitely doing something for you. 

You surged forward and grabbed him with both hands, but he flicked your wrists away. "Ah ah ah, you can only use your mouth. Hands behind your back." You obliged. He stroked himself once and then held his shaft up at the base so that the mushroom head was pointing straight at you. 

You wrapped your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around his sensitive head and flicking it rapidly against his frenulum. He moaned, and his knees buckled. He planted his palms on the table behind you and cursed. You slowly took more and more of him into your mouth, breathing slowly through your nose. He let you set the pace, thankfully, as you let him sink to the back of your throat. 

Fresh tears bloomed in your eyes, but these were due to the struggle of not gagging against him. He stretched your throat with his bulge, but you focused on your breathing and letting yourself adjust. Once you felt you were stable, you bobbed your neck back and forth, stimulating his length with your mouth. 

He did not touch you till you found a slow rhythm. But once you started deep-throating him vigorously, he started pumping his hips in tandem with you. He found his rhythm, going back when you came forth so that he had more room to fuck your face on the next stroke in. You moaned as he took more and more control, your eyes going glassy as you slipped into subspace. Seeing you dropping, he quickly held the sides of your face and threaded his fingers through your hair. He stilled for a moment. "Remember, you can tap out if it gets too much. Tap if you understand". He waited with bated breath till one of your hands weakly came up and tapped lightly on his thigh. Taking it as his go-ahead, he started thrusting into your mouth vigorously, using his hold on your hair to pull and push you on his cock. 

His thrusts became animalistic as drool and precum dripped down your chin and chest. He started grunting, and his thrusts became rougher, a telltale sign that he was about to come. You winced and closed your eyes, preparing to feel his hot salty cum fill your throat or splatter on your face, but he pulled out altogether. Bereft and dazed, you looked up at him to see him pull you up by your arms and manhandle you like a ragdoll on the table. 

He lay you flat on your back and stripped off your pants and panties. He turned you on one side and pushed your hips closer till you were folded in a fetal position. "You okay?" He gasped, and you tapped your own thigh, out of your mind already. "Use your words," he said sternly. 

"'m okay," you mumbled. He straightened again. "I'm gonna give you 20 spanks and then I'm gonna fuck you. You're not allowed to tap out unless you feel there's any harm to the baby. You got that?"  

"Yes, sir," you slurred, floating in your subspace. 

He propelled your body slightly forward as he landed his first hard spank on your ass. You whimpered and continued to take it on your limp body, jolting forward with every spank that landed on your cheeks. After your punishment was done, you were sure that your bottom was going to be flaming red. He placed a firm palm on your upper thigh, rolling it slightly forward so that your puffy lips were better visible to him. 

"Wet already, hmm?" He said as he tested your pussy with two fingers. "That's good enough," he grunted as he shoved himself into you and immediately set a brutal pace. A long whine of pain and pleasure left you the moment he entered you roughly. You stretched out one hand to grab the edge of the table you were on, afraid that the table might snap if its violent shaking at Steve's thrusts was any indication.

“Don’t. Ever. Do. That. To. Me. Ever. Again, got that?” Steve punched out each word in tandem with his thrusts. His balls and thighs slapped against the back of yours, and if you'd been a little more conscious, you would have squealed at his onslaught. Mad with rage as he was, you trusted him to still be in control fully and never do anything to put you in harm's way. Even in punishment, you felt safe, not feeling the need to tap out; safe in the knowledge that your husband and the father of your child was safe and back with you, punishing you because he cared for you. 

He got you cock drunk on his thrusts, and your head felt like it was full of cotton and the word 'safe' was pinging inside it. You lolled your head back and surrendered your body to your Captain. One of his fingerless glove-covered palms cupped your mound, the texture abrasive against your soft skin while his fingers teased your clit. You shuddered and made a few guttural noises as you couldn't hold it in, but you dared not cum unless he allowed you. 

"Did so well. Took the punishment like a champ. Let go honey, you can cum," he panted through the exertion of working your body over. White hot bliss filled your entire being as your toes curled, and a flutter started up in your womb and shuddered through you. It caught him, too, and he moaned as he soldiered through it until he spurted, spent and sated. He collapsed next to you, gently pulled himself out, and rolled you over to inspect you.  

You were still blissed out and limp. Steve dressed you and lifted you in his arms, cooing at you and stroking your hair and face. “Let me see your pretty eyes, lovely,” he said as he stroked your tummy next. You whined and buried your face in his chest, still not ready to let go of the warm, fuzzy headspace you were in. Steve kissed your head and kept cooing and cuddling you as he sat on the table with you in his arms, waiting for Bucky to return. 

On the Quinjet back home, you stirred and sat up. Steve was still holding you and chatting with Bucky as the latter steered the plane back home. You propped yourself up and smiled at Steve, making him look down at you. You held your breath for a beat until his lips stretched out in a fond smile. “Hey, doll, there you are. How are you feeling?” 

A surge of relief went through you at the sight of his relaxed countenance. You dropped your cheek back to his chest, the coarse fabric of his uniform abrading your skin. You smiled to yourself, “Mmmm, all good. I see things are all good here, too?” You looked up and glanced between him and Bucky in the cockpit. 

Steve raised his eyebrows at you. “Yes. You know I had to keep my word after you were so good to me. Took the punishment so well,” you preened at that, but Steve frowned, “I’ve been waiting to check with you: how’s our bubs?” 

You rubbed your tummy fondly, “All snuggly and quiet in there. Looks like he’s scared of angry Daddy,” you pouted up at him. 

Steve’s frown deepened, and he pressed his lips together. “As he should. Doll, we need to talk about this.” Your back straightened, and you gulped, knowing what was to come. 

“What you did back there was brave. Brave, but extremely stupid. How am I supposed to rest knowing you can pull shit like that again? How can I trust you not to do it again? I’ll not stop short of tying you to our bed before I leave for a mission. Or have FRIDAY bar you from leaving the compound. Thought I told you not to do anything stupid until I got back, huh? Didn’t I?"

You looked down as you played with your fingers, pouting. “Yes, you did, Steve. I was just worried. I know how you get on the field. You’re one to talk about brave and stupid. You’re reckless, too!”

“Hmmm looks like I’m gonna have to fix that mouth when we get back,” he narrowed his eyes at you with a light slap to your ass. You winced, “after I put some aloe on this ass,” he added. You said nothing, knowing it’ll only make matters worse for you if you did. Steve sighed and spoke again, “Doll, I get it. But you have to know, with our little one on the way, I want to be careful too. I want to come home to both of you. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna pull my punches or stop trying to do my duty. I’m trying to find a balance here. And you have to trust the team, we’ve got the best people, and we’ve always got each other’s backs. But I promise I’ll be careful. Can you promise me you’ll be careful too? You’ve got two lives to care about. It’s not just you anymore.”

“That’s fair, Steve,” you whispered. “I promise, too. This won’t happen again. I’ll be careful.”

“You better,” Steve warned, but he gave you a small smile and gathered you close. He kissed your forehead, “You two are my world. I’ll always protect you.”

You smiled back, cuddled him, and fell back asleep. All was right in your world, now that your Captain had briefed you about your mission (to keep baby Rogers safe).

fin   

✪ A/N2: Whew! Love protective Angry Dom Steve 🥵 I do not regret my actions.

I'd love to hear from you all about this fic! I could use feedback since I am coming back to writing after a long break.

The morning sun streaming through the curtains woke Steve up. A light sleeper himself, he wasn't bothered by that, but he arose to shut them tighter before it woke you up. 

(gif made by me)

He knew how precious your sleep was in your condition. He turned around to see you in deep sleep, cuddling your body pillow on one side while he occupied the other side until he arose. He saw you frown at the loss of his warmth and smiled softly at the adorable pout on your face. He couldn't resist kissing your brow, resting his lips there till your frown smoothed out. 

He fussed with the covers, trying to compensate for the loss of his body heat. He got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and left the bedroom to make breakfast for you. 

He knew from experience that although you loved pancakes of all kinds, your baby made you crave blueberry pancakes. He got to work on making them and started the coffee machine as well. 

His sharp ears caught the sound of your feet padding into the kitchen. He kept his back turned to you, however, hoping with a smile to himself that you’d come to him. 

And go to him you did, yawning and rubbing your eyes, sleepily seeking your husband’s warmth. You hugged his bare back, groaning when your pregnant belly got squished between you two and didn’t let you get as close to him as you wanted to be. 

“Steeb,” you whined, rubbing your nose between his shoulder blades. Steve smiled and pulled you into a half hug, slotting you up against his flank. You whined once again, wanting a bear hug. Sighing, he put his spatula down and obliged. “Why are you up, sweetie?” he asked in his gravelly morning voice. 

“Why are you?” came your reply against his chest. Steve chuckled and rocked you gently. “You know I don’t need much sleep, right?” he mumbled into the crown of your head, his hands stroking your hair and back, occasionally squeezing your lower back where he knew it hurt you a lot lately. “Mmm, yes, but you left and I was cold,” you whined again, burrowing your nose in his pillowy pecs. Steve kissed your head and whispered softly. “I’m sorry, sweetie. How’s the little bub?” 

“Still sleeping, but I bet either your voice or the smell of the pancakes will wake him,” you whispered back so as not to disturb his sleep. 

“Alright then, mama, have a seat at the table, I’ll bring you your coffee.”

“Decaf?” you checked with him. Coffee was your favorite thing in the world (Steve was a close second, although once the baby arrived, he was going to get demoted to number 3). It crushed you not to be able to partake in it due to the morning sickness, hence the decaf version. It had to do for now. 

Steve made a face that said, ‘obviously’ as he handed you the mug. The first sip breathed some life into you, and you sat up straighter, striking up a conversation with your husband about your trip to the gyno on the compound. “So… the doctor believes our baby boy will be here sooner than expected.” 

“Really?” Steve’s excited blue eyes turned on you, and you secretly prayed, not for the first time, that the baby inherits his beautiful eyes. 

You nodded. He had missed the appointment yesterday due to some work-related emergency and he was bummed about it. He was eager to hear all the details to make up for it. “Mmm-hmm. She said he’s growing faster than an average human child. So there’s a high chance I’ll be at full term before the usual nine months.” 

Steve went still. “Should we be worried?” 

You sighed, “No, Steve, it’s all under control. Apparently, he inherited your, um, serum enhancements, so…the theory is that his rapid growth is because of your rapid healing abilities. His cells grow faster or something like that.” Steve hummed, taking it all in. You perked up at your next statement. “And turns out I was right about my theory. The one about him being able to hear and smell things and respond.”

“Nah-”

“He recognised Bucky the other day.”

“That was a lucky chance-”

You two talked over each other as you bantered. Just then, you were interrupted by FRIDAY, the compound’s sentient AI. “Captain, sorry to bother you on your day off, but there are reports of a level 6 emergency..”

Like the flick of a switch, Steve's entire demeanor changed right before your eyes. Gone was the doting husband; in his place stood an Avenger. He stood protectively before you as if blocking you from any disturbing news. You didn't need to see or hear that in your state.  

"Do we have visuals?" he asked the AI. A flat projector screen descended from your ceiling, broadcasting the visuals STARK satellites might have gathered about the aforementioned incident. Steve didn't utter another word, just stood there taking it all in, his fists clenched by his sides the only indication of his rage. His voice was deceptively even when he said his next words, "Has Stark been alerted?"

"He's already on his way."

"Get the Quinjet ready,"

“Copy that, Captain. I’ll alert the others to gather in the briefing room,” Steve had already started towards your bedroom, and you guessed it was to fetch his uniform and weapons. You stood there for a moment, feeling helpless. You wanted to help him with every fiber of your being, but you knew that in your current state, you’d only slow him down and get in the way. 

But you still waddled to the hallway where you knew he had stored his holster and belt. You grabbed them and handed both to him as he left the bedroom, his uniform already donned. 

“Thanks, doll,” he breathed, and you stood on your tippy-toes trying to put the shoulder straps on him. He turned around and bent slightly so you could do it properly. Next, you helped him don the belt around his waist, and when you were done, you raised your doleful eyes at him. 

It was like the frantic energy of the room paused the moment your eyes met his. “Doll,” he sighed, “I know what you’re gonna say. I promise I’ll be careful. But I don’t have much time now. Thousands of lives are at stake.” You nodded, after all, you were well aware of what they all dealt with, thanks to your job (which you had taken a maternity sabbatical from) as a field analyst to the Avengers' core team. That’s how you had met and fallen in love with the hard-headed Captain, who was now your husband, Steve. 

You sighed and cast your gaze downward. Above your head, Steve did the same and then cupped your face with his hands. As you gazed up at him this time, your eyes were brimming with tears. Ever since you dated and later married Steve, you’ve had to see him off for countless missions, but that didn’t make the angst of separation any easier. Steve attributed it to your pregnancy hormones, but you knew better. He gave you a small smile and pressed his lips against yours in a deep yet quick kiss, stealing your breath away. “Love you,” he brushed those words against your lips while resting his forehead against yours. His body jerked as he made to pull away, but before he fully detached himself, he caressed your belly gently, “Love you too, bub. Be good for Momma, okay?” His words brought on another sob from you, but Steve had already overextended his goodbyes. With another caress to your cheeks, he parted, clipped his shield to his back, and broke out in a jog towards the briefing room.

Your feet rushed after him as if pulled by a magnet. Steve knew you would follow him to the door. “Don’t do anything stupid till I get back,” he threw over his shoulder at you as he continued sprinting. You smiled a watery smile at his retreating form, fully aware of the context. 

You stayed rooted to your spot in the doorway for an unknown amount of time, cradling your belly and lost in your thoughts. Movement from your son catapulted you into action as you decided to finish your breakfast. Going back to your cold coffee and pancakes, your mind was still reeling with worry for Steve’s safety. 

You were assigned to him after emerging as the most efficient field analyst hired by the Avengers HQ in the last year. You swiftly got promoted until you reached that stage, which your coworkers coveted as the ultimate goal. On the day of your induction, Tony had quipped that your chair was not the throne your coworkers made it seem like, but a chair of thorns, and that you’d need all the luck in the world to last even three months. His words rang true because Captain America was nearly impossible to work with. Not only was he technologically challenged, but he was also incredibly stubborn and reckless. He repeatedly ignored your inputs. He deliberately swerved left when you specifically told him over comms to go right. “Soldier’s instinct,” he would always argue. At first, his insubordination drew you up the wall, but slowly, you came to see it for what it was. It didn’t stem from arrogance as you wrongly assumed, but from his innate hardwiring to place the mission and his teammates’ safety above his own. When you took a deliberate step back from your anger, frustration, and annoyance at his actions, you saw a true leader and a selfless hero.

It went downhill from that point, where you struggled to maintain professionalism around him. Your admiration went from respect to crush to obsession to full-blown love. He was not oblivious to it, of course, and neither did he pretend to be. He went from exchanging just short of curse words with you on comms to actually listening to you on the field, from curt nods when he passed you in hallways to full-blown smiles. He insisted on your sitting in on the Avengers’ core meetings, opened doors and pulled chairs for you at those, much to everyone else’s silent amusement. Tony would loudly complain to you about the Captain’s foul moods on the rare occasions you took a day off and he had to work with a substitute. You were unofficially promoted to his personal assistant when he refused to hire another person to take care of his off-field responsibilities. “She just gets me like no one else can. We’re a team,” he had said with such a dazzling smile and shining eyes that you didn’t have the heart to turn down the huge pile of paperwork that implied. 

Everything escalated quickly when one day he was brought in from a tough mission to you chewing your nails and pacing the room. His comms had died out, and one by one, the team had started trickling in. You were guiding Sam Wilson in his aerial surveillance in looking for Captain Rogers. After 11 harrowing hours, the medic brought him in, barely conscious and severely injured. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, let alone sleep or eat, till you saw him in the flesh. Thankfully, his serum ensured that he was already healing in the Quinjet on his way over, able to prop himself up with some help. You marched in, and when you saw him, you could have either slapped him or kissed him, but instead, you let all hell loose and yelled at him as if he were a 5-year-old. Steve listened patiently to you ranting and losing your mind until you were close to ripping your hair out, at which point he pushed himself up into a sitting position using all his remaining strength, grabbed you, and kissed you soundly on the lips. “I knew it,” he had said, “I knew I was more than a job to you,” he had smirked after you reciprocated his kiss, and then promptly blushed and hid in his chest. “That means you’re gonna lose your best partner on the job,” you had mumbled, knowing the implications. “Never mind,” he had said as he dropped back down on his stretcher, “I’m gaining my best girl for life, hopefully.” You remembered his smile as he was carted away into the medbay. 

Cut to the present moment, you sighed as you bit into your cold breakfast, running a hand on your belly. “I wish you could read my mind, bubs,” you spoke to your son in your belly. “I just finished thinking about how I met your father.” It made sense to you now, why your goodbyes never became easier for you. With you stepping down as his assigned analyst (You insisted to Tony, citing ‘lack of objectivity’ when Steve flirted with you on missions more than once. You had to remind him, much to your chagrin, that your conversations weren’t exactly private). You had relinquished control of how he maneuvered himself on the field. You could no longer see him in action on the screen, sort of watching over him and ensuring his six was always covered. It was calming to your nerves to have that semblance of reassurance, but with that gone, you were just as helpless as any other military wife. 

But you weren’t complaining. The moment you and Steve began dating, you became an unofficial member of the Avengers. It felt odd at first, no longer being starstruck by the rest of them or squirming when they asked you to drop the honorifics and not act so professional around them. The boys all treated you like a delicate doll, seeing as you were not enhanced in any way. Some nights, you lay in bed pinching yourself, not able to believe that you had just returned from a pajama movie night with Wanda, Nat, and Pepper. Unreal.

As you reminisced about your relationship with Steve leading up to this moment, your child kicked you. “I know, bubs, do you miss Daddy already? I know I do,” you sighed. “It’s just…something about this mission doesn’t seem right to me,” you frowned, feeling unsettled. “Call it an analyst’s instinct but….I’ve got a bad gut feeling about this,” you muttered to yourself. “Oh, who am I kidding, no offense, bubs, but you’re just a smol bean, talking to you is not gonna help me, I need to talk to one of your uncles. Or aunties. Let’s go,” you made up your mind, pushed yourself out of your chair, and dumped the remaining cold coffee in the sink. 

You marched, no, waddled out, determined to find the first person on the staff to get in on this mission. Lady Luck must be shining on you because you crossed paths with none other than Bucky Barnes. 

“Hey, doll, where’s the fire?” he gave you his roguish half smile. 

“Bucky,” you breathed with relief. There was truly no better person to understand your predicament than your husband’s best friend. But wait a minute-

“Why aren’t you on the mission?” The uneasiness in your gut grew because this implied one less protector on the team. You knew very well that Bucky always had Steve’s back. Always.

“Well,” Bucky looked down at his prosthetic arm wistfully, “I busted the circuits in this thing on the last mission; it needs to be reprogrammed. So I’m benched.” 

Your frown deepened, and Bucky noticed that. “What’s up, doll?” he queried with his own frown. You decided to confide in him. “I have a gut feeling about this mission, Bucky. I need to know how it’s going.” 

Bucky looked at your face and your belly for a second before he replied. “You sure it’s not the little punk in there? Hi pal, it’s your uncle Bucky,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Bucky,” you sighed. “I’m sure it’s not. I just…can’t rest easy unless I know what’s going on.”

Bucky’s frown returned for a split second as he realized you were in no mood to joke. He smiled reassuringly, though, in the very next minute. “That’s easy, doll, and I’m surprised it didn’t strike you sooner,” he said as he started leading you away with him. You looked at him, puzzled. “The analyst’s bay, of course. You can ask your old pals on the staff about the updates, I’m sure they’ll be happy to provide them to you.” 

Bucky’s solution sounded good enough, although strangely it did nothing to settle your nerves. Nevertheless, you followed him, knowing that doing something rather than sitting on your hands will definitely ease your mind.

You reached the analytics bay and were surprised to see that it wasn’t buzzing with activity as you expected. Some of your ex-colleagues smiled at you from their desks, but nobody seemed to be in a rush or frantically giving remote guidance to the team. You saw Maria walking down one of the aisles, and you immediately stopped her. “Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I uh- wanted updates on the latest mission.” Maria cocked her head at you, her eyes softening. She measured her next words carefully before speaking, “I’m sorry, it’s a covert mission, and seeing as you’re no longer an analyst, you don’t have clearance to receive that information.” Knowing your hard-ass husband, you had anticipated this, sort of. But you weren’t about to give up. “Well, I don’t think I need clearance to know why the analysts aren’t working on the mission right now,” you gestured to the unhurried staff working around you. 

Maria sighed, knowing you could be as stubborn as your husband. “Look, I’m not saying this as the Chief of Ground Staff, but as your friend. Some analysts have traveled with the team on the Quinjet. They’ll be doing close surveillance as opposed to remote guidance. Captain’s orders,” She looked you square in the eye as she said it, hoping for it to be the final word on the matter. 

All the air left your lungs in a whoosh. Damn Steve. Trust him to hide important things from you. What was he thinking?

“I know what you’re thinking, doll,” Bucky broke you out of your reverie with a hand on your shoulder. “But can you blame him? If I had such precious cargo on the way,” he looked at your belly with eyes full of emotion, “I would do everything I could to make light of the situation. I would shield you from everything in the world if I could.”

“But that’s not how our partnership works, Bucky. It never has and it never will. And Steve knows that very well.” You said as you stomped out of the bay, one hand placed protectively on your bump. “Whatever he thought he was doing, he has succeeded in achieving the opposite. I’m even more worried than I was before. What started as a gut feeling is now a confirmation that things are bad.”

“Wait, where are you going, doll?” Bucky strode after you, trying to keep up with you. As if on autopilot, your feet were speed walking you over to the hangar. 

“Going to assist my husband on his mission, what does it look like?” You yelled at him over your shoulder. Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm. You winced as soon as you said it. You knew you could never outrun the Winter Soldier, your present condition notwithstanding. He was going to do everything in his power to stop you. You had to get him on your team. There was no other way.

“Doll,” Bucky cut through your path and held your arm. “What do you think you’re doing? In your condition? If Steve finds out you left the compound, and that too on my watch, he’ll kill me.”

“Bucky! I’m sorry, but I have to go. I would rather risk that than-” your bottom lip wobbled, “than Steve not c-c-oming home.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, doll, nothing’s gonna happen to him. This is not his first rodeo, alright? He knows what he’s doing, plus he’s not alone. In fact,” Bucky chuckled, going for humor again, “he once jumped out of a plane without his parachute and landed without a scratch on him.” Your mouth dropped open in horror, and Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm as he realized it was the wrong thing to say, “NOT HELPING BUCKY,” you yelled and started walking towards the hangar again.

“Doll, please don’t do this. You don’t have to. Everything’s under control. Do you see other spouses running to the hangar like this? This is reckless and stupid.”

You paused in your tracks and turned around to face him. “Bucky. If you bring my pregnancy hormones into this one more time, I swear to God,” you didn’t know what to threaten him with, but you hoped your voice carried enough menace in it. “I am not a concerned spouse. I was the best analyst on duty. I want to offer my services. Can’t you see? Analysts traveling with the team is completely unorthodox. This is more serious than they’re letting on. The team needs me. Now you have two choices. Help me and face Steve’s wrath, or do nothing and regret. Your choice. I’m going anyway; the least you can do is not try to stop me. Apart from that, you decide, and decide quickly. Time is slipping away.”

Bucky gulped and cursed to himself, shaking his head and following you. “I’m gonna kick my own ass before Steve does if this goes south.” 

You smiled and paced towards the Quinjet that was on standby. “Don’t do that just yet. I’m gonna need you to fly this thing.”

Bucky used his ID to unlock the jet and get into the cockpit. He fired up the engine, and immediately the plane was filled with FRIDAY’s disembodied voice. “Authorization request. State your name and mission.” 

“Sergeant James Barnes, codename Winter Soldier.”

“ID confirmed. Clearance granted. State your mission.”

“Uh, FRIDAY, I want you to pull up the recent mission logs,” Bucky racked his brain and spoke aloud a cryptic serial number. 

“Noted. The logs do not mention you being assigned to the mission, Sergeant. I’m sorry I can’t share the real-time status updates with you.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment before responding. “I have Core Team Clearance. Please overrule the lock FRIDAY.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ll have to obtain clearance from Mr. Stark for this. Contacting him right now.”

Oh no. This can’t be good. Before Bucky could open his mouth, you interjected. “FRIDAY, this is Y/N Rogers. We have intel that the team is going to need reinforcements. WE are the reinforcements. There’s no need to contact Tony and interrupt him on his mission.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll need to ID you.” Sighing, you spoke your credentials out loud. 

“Confirmed. My records confirm that you have Core Team Clearance, too. The rulebook allows me to override the need for further clearance.” The screen popped up with the coordinates of the team’s location. “Good luck, Sergeant, Mrs. Rogers.” 

Bucky fired up the engine, and the plane was ready for takeoff. “Uh, FRIDAY, one last thing, please relay this communication to base: DO NOT alert the field ops about our presence. The reinforcement is classified because we don’t want the hostiles to know. Do you copy?” Bucky ordered the AI. 

“I copy that, Sergeant,” and with that, you were off the tarmac and airborne. 

You fought the nausea that was imminent for a pregnant lady on a plane. It wasn’t as difficult as you suspected, seeing as you were a woman on a mission after all. 

About a couple of hours later, you were close to the site of the mission. Bucky turned on the reflectors so you could go undetected by the enemy. He landed as close as possible to the temporary base set up for the analysts at a distance from the location of the skirmish. The two of you were alarmed to see the signs of destruction already. There was a lot of debris, collapsed buildings, and totaled cars that you were making your way through. Once you reached the base, you ran inside and grabbed one of the analysts by the shoulders. “Which one of you is running ops for the Captain?” Startled, they pointed towards the right person, and you immediately darted over there. Some of them began protesting in murmurs, which were silenced by Bucky. He stood guard at the entrance with his rifle drawn. 

The analyst assigned to Steve was stunned to see you standing over him. He continued to gape at you. “Move!” you yelled, roughly grabbing him by the shoulder. He left his seat in a daze, and you quickly dropped into the chair vacated by him. You donned his headset, eyes scanning the screen even as you performed your other movements. 

God, it felt good to be back. It was all coming back to you via muscle memory. You were glad to know that you weren’t losing your touch. 

“Beagle, do you copy? Beagle! I need visuals,” your husband’s voice yelled over the comms, mentioning the code name of the previous operator. You could hear gunshots and explosions in the background. Typical. 

You took a deep breath to calibrate yourself to the task at hand. “Copy that, Captain, this is Desert Hawk,” you announced your call sign as per the protocol. For a moment, all you heard was static accompanied by deep breaths. You copied him, too, needing all your focus to remember that you had to separate your husband from your mission, intersected as they were. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” He exploded. You blinked.

Wow. You weren’t expecting that. You just assumed that you’ll catch him off guard mid-action and he’ll have no choice but to oblige. But he sounded furious. You gulped and squared your shoulders. 

“No time to explain. This is an emergency. Beagle is safe. I’ve taken over.”

"Abort mission, I’m gonna stop you right there, Desert Hawk. I want you to return to base immediately. IT’S AN ORDER,” He yelled. 

“With all due respect, Captain, you could use my expertise. Now I’m gonna have to overrule your direct order temporarily and comply with the sitrep demand,” you scanned the perimeter on your screen from his vantage point, looking for an opportunity to evacuate. Safe to say that you had earned your codename. You were an expert at spotting covert evac points. 

“I see a potential evac point 10 miles to your Southwest, Cap. I suggest you, Nat and Clint, I mean, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton, head over there, stat.”

“You do realize there’s a penalty for insubordination, right?” he growled in barely suppressed fury, completely ignoring the message you relayed. 

Oh boy. The situation was rapidly going south. Not good at all. 

“Roger that, Captain,” you tried your best to keep your voice from quivering. “May I repeat the message, sir?” 

“Oh, NOW you’re asking PERMISSION?” Okay. This you could not entertain. You were trying to be an analyst and not his wife, but your husband was hell-bent on quarreling as if it were your bedroom and not the battlefield. It was time to deflect. 

“Captain, do I need to remind you of the task at hand?” you stated in a raised tone before prattling off the coordinates again. 

“I heard you just fine the first time,” he grumbled, and a grenade went off too close to his earpiece. You gulped and winced. 

“Captain, PLEASE get out of there.”

“How many hostages?” He ignored you again. You sighed, cursed him, and relayed the information. And as was usual in your camaraderie with him, you gave him an additional nugget of advice. “Mr. Stark, Falcon, and War Machine will handle the evac of hostages aerially.” 

“Roger that,” he said in such a strained voice that you could picture his distended neck veins, which you saw in your arguments with him when he sounded exactly like that. “I repeat, Desert Hawk, I hope you recall the consequences of insubordination.”

“Y-yes, Captain. I do,” you gulped, knowing he was not gonna drop it till you acquiesced. 

“Damn right you do,” he growled under his breath but the comms picked it up nevertheless. Your panties grew damp at his low tone. A part of you wanted him there with you, right now, punishing you as he saw fit. 

“Captain, update your status.” You checked with him after a brief pause. 

“All clear. Sitrep update, stat,” he replied. 

“All clear for you to evac. Please relay your orders to the airborne team.”

“Copy that. I’ll see you in 10 minutes. Don’t. Move,” he said in a menacing voice, and then he turned the comms off. He actually, straight up, did that. You were so astounded that you threw your headset off. 

The rest of the time, you and the other analysts waited with bated breath. Sam and Nat were online, so you still had information pouring in. It looked like the situation was under control, much to your relief. 

Bucky was standing guard at the entrance. He straightened when your husband, Captain America himself, walked, no, practically burst in. 

(gif made by me)

The relief that you forgot to feel in the heat of the moment after hearing his voice for the first time came crashing down on you at the sight of him. He was bruised, bloody, and looking like a battle god. Fear and arousal clamored in your system, although they couldn’t overwhelm your relief. “Everyone! Leave us. Right now,” he commanded the rest of the room, without breaking eye contact with you. 

Chest heaving, you dared not utter a single word or take your eyes off him. You didn’t need to guess that he didn’t mean you by that. 

“Sergeant Barnes, you’ll transport the tech team to the base and immediately get back here.” He turned and looked at Bucky, whose eyes were shifting between you and Steve. “I’ll deal with you then,” he narrowed his eyes at his best friend. Bucky had no choice but to comply. He nodded and left, sparing one more concerned glance in your direction. 

“You’ll not punish Bucky, Steve,” you stated before your courage deserted you. “He didn’t act on his own accord.”

“QUIET!” He yelled so loudly he made you recoil in surprise. “I’m still your Captain, and you’ll address me as such. Do you understand?” 

You flinched but then nodded. “Use your words,” he stated with cold fury in his voice. 

“Y-yes, Captain.”

“As the leader of this mission, it is my responsibility to mete out punishments to insubordinate team members, and I’m dispensing it,” he said as he dropped his shield and took off his helmet. “But as your husband, I’m gonna have to be careful,” he added with a softness that betrayed his feelings. 

He turned, locked the door and windows, and then advanced on you. He marched straight into your personal space, crowding you against a table in the corner. “What were you thinking, huh? WHY did you put me in a situation like that? I was so scared when I heard your voice on comms that the shock alone would’ve killed me, had I been a lesser man. Didn’t even need bullets to take me out.” 

You had your eyes downcast, letting him have his moment. His rage was totally justified, and you knew it. But when you looked back up at him, you didn’t expect him to look pained. 

He looked so distraught that you stepped towards him and made to touch his cheek. He swatted your hand away. “What you did today cannot happen again, is that clear?” 

“On one condition.” Oh boy, you had some hubris. Even Steve narrowed his eyes at you. "You're in no position to-"

"I know." You held your palms up. "But hear me out. You'll not say a word to Bucky. Not a word. That's my condition."

Steve still stared at you. Breathing hard. But he didn't reply. 

"Please. I beg you," you choked out, tears pooling in your eyes. 

"Now that's more like it. Kneel." He said with a finality that brokered no argument. You complied, supporting your belly as you did so. 

"I'm gonna take your mouth, and I'm gonna take it hard. Tap my thigh if you can't breathe. Got it?" 

You nodded, looking up at him, eyes watery with unshed tears. Steve's cock lurched at the pretty sight that was you, on your knees at his mercy, begging. And round with his child. He felt the perverse pleasure of the moment surge through him and harden him further. 

He unzipped his pants, only letting his hard member out. The rest of him was still fully dressed. It was a first for you, too; you had never played while he was in his uniform. It was definitely doing something for you. 

You surged forward and grabbed him with both hands, but he flicked your wrists away. "Ah ah ah, you can only use your mouth. Hands behind your back." You obliged. He stroked himself once and then held his shaft up at the base so that the mushroom head was pointing straight at you. 

You wrapped your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around his sensitive head and flicking it rapidly against his frenulum. He moaned, and his knees buckled. He planted his palms on the table behind you and cursed. You slowly took more and more of him into your mouth, breathing slowly through your nose. He let you set the pace, thankfully, as you let him sink to the back of your throat. 

Fresh tears bloomed in your eyes, but these were due to the struggle of not gagging against him. He stretched your throat with his bulge, but you focused on your breathing and letting yourself adjust. Once you felt you were stable, you bobbed your neck back and forth, stimulating his length with your mouth. 

He did not touch you till you found a slow rhythm. But once you started deep-throating him vigorously, he started pumping his hips in tandem with you. He found his rhythm, going back when you came forth so that he had more room to fuck your face on the next stroke in. You moaned as he took more and more control, your eyes going glassy as you slipped into subspace. Seeing you dropping, he quickly held the sides of your face and threaded his fingers through your hair. He stilled for a moment. "Remember, you can tap out if it gets too much. Tap if you understand". He waited with bated breath till one of your hands weakly came up and tapped lightly on his thigh. Taking it as his go-ahead, he started thrusting into your mouth vigorously, using his hold on your hair to pull and push you on his cock. 

His thrusts became animalistic as drool and precum dripped down your chin and chest. He started grunting, and his thrusts became rougher, a telltale sign that he was about to come. You winced and closed your eyes, preparing to feel his hot salty cum fill your throat or splatter on your face, but he pulled out altogether. Bereft and dazed, you looked up at him to see him pull you up by your arms and manhandle you like a ragdoll on the table. 

He lay you flat on your back and stripped off your pants and panties. He turned you on one side and pushed your hips closer till you were folded in a fetal position. "You okay?" He gasped, and you tapped your own thigh, out of your mind already. "Use your words," he said sternly. 

"'m okay," you mumbled. He straightened again. "I'm gonna give you 20 spanks and then I'm gonna fuck you. You're not allowed to tap out unless you feel there's any harm to the baby. You got that?"  

"Yes, sir," you slurred, floating in your subspace. 

He propelled your body slightly forward as he landed his first hard spank on your ass. You whimpered and continued to take it on your limp body, jolting forward with every spank that landed on your cheeks. After your punishment was done, you were sure that your bottom was going to be flaming red. He placed a firm palm on your upper thigh, rolling it slightly forward so that your puffy lips were better visible to him. 

"Wet already, hmm?" He said as he tested your pussy with two fingers. "That's good enough," he grunted as he shoved himself into you and immediately set a brutal pace. A long whine of pain and pleasure left you the moment he entered you roughly. You stretched out one hand to grab the edge of the table you were on, afraid that the table might snap if its violent shaking at Steve's thrusts was any indication.

“Don’t. Ever. Do. That. To. Me. Ever. Again, got that?” Steve punched out each word in tandem with his thrusts. His balls and thighs slapped against the back of yours, and if you'd been a little more conscious, you would have squealed at his onslaught. Mad with rage as he was, you trusted him to still be in control fully and never do anything to put you in harm's way. Even in punishment, you felt safe, not feeling the need to tap out; safe in the knowledge that your husband and the father of your child was safe and back with you, punishing you because he cared for you. 

He got you cock drunk on his thrusts, and your head felt like it was full of cotton and the word 'safe' was pinging inside it. You lolled your head back and surrendered your body to your Captain. One of his fingerless glove-covered palms cupped your mound, the texture abrasive against your soft skin while his fingers teased your clit. You shuddered and made a few guttural noises as you couldn't hold it in, but you dared not cum unless he allowed you. 

"Did so well. Took the punishment like a champ. Let go honey, you can cum," he panted through the exertion of working your body over. White hot bliss filled your entire being as your toes curled, and a flutter started up in your womb and shuddered through you. It caught him, too, and he moaned as he soldiered through it until he spurted, spent and sated. He collapsed next to you, gently pulled himself out, and rolled you over to inspect you.  

You were still blissed out and limp. Steve dressed you and lifted you in his arms, cooing at you and stroking your hair and face. “Let me see your pretty eyes, lovely,” he said as he stroked your tummy next. You whined and buried your face in his chest, still not ready to let go of the warm, fuzzy headspace you were in. Steve kissed your head and kept cooing and cuddling you as he sat on the table with you in his arms, waiting for Bucky to return. 

On the Quinjet back home, you stirred and sat up. Steve was still holding you and chatting with Bucky as the latter steered the plane back home. You propped yourself up and smiled at Steve, making him look down at you. You held your breath for a beat until his lips stretched out in a fond smile. “Hey, doll, there you are. How are you feeling?” 

A surge of relief went through you at the sight of his relaxed countenance. You dropped your cheek back to his chest, the coarse fabric of his uniform abrading your skin. You smiled to yourself, “Mmmm, all good. I see things are all good here, too?” You looked up and glanced between him and Bucky in the cockpit. 

Steve raised his eyebrows at you. “Yes. You know I had to keep my word after you were so good to me. Took the punishment so well,” you preened at that, but Steve frowned, “I’ve been waiting to check with you: how’s our bubs?” 

You rubbed your tummy fondly, “All snuggly and quiet in there. Looks like he’s scared of angry Daddy,” you pouted up at him. 

Steve’s frown deepened, and he pressed his lips together. “As he should. Doll, we need to talk about this.” Your back straightened, and you gulped, knowing what was to come. 

“What you did back there was brave. Brave, but extremely stupid. How am I supposed to rest knowing you can pull shit like that again? How can I trust you not to do it again? I’ll not stop short of tying you to our bed before I leave for a mission. Or have FRIDAY bar you from leaving the compound. Thought I told you not to do anything stupid until I got back, huh? Didn’t I?"

You looked down as you played with your fingers, pouting. “Yes, you did, Steve. I was just worried. I know how you get on the field. You’re one to talk about brave and stupid. You’re reckless, too!”

“Hmmm looks like I’m gonna have to fix that mouth when we get back,” he narrowed his eyes at you with a light slap to your ass. You winced, “after I put some aloe on this ass,” he added. You said nothing, knowing it’ll only make matters worse for you if you did. Steve sighed and spoke again, “Doll, I get it. But you have to know, with our little one on the way, I want to be careful too. I want to come home to both of you. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna pull my punches or stop trying to do my duty. I’m trying to find a balance here. And you have to trust the team, we’ve got the best people, and we’ve always got each other’s backs. But I promise I’ll be careful. Can you promise me you’ll be careful too? You’ve got two lives to care about. It’s not just you anymore.”

“That’s fair, Steve,” you whispered. “I promise, too. This won’t happen again. I’ll be careful.”

“You better,” Steve warned, but he gave you a small smile and gathered you close. He kissed your forehead, “You two are my world. I’ll always protect you.”

You smiled back, cuddled him, and fell back asleep. All was right in your world, now that your Captain had briefed you about your mission (to keep baby Rogers safe).

fin   

✪ A/N2: Whew! Love protective Angry Dom Steve 🥵 I do not regret my actions.

I'd love to hear from you all about this fic! I could use feedback since I am coming back to writing after a long break.

The morning sun streaming through the curtains woke Steve up. A light sleeper himself, he wasn't bothered by that, but he arose to shut them tighter before it woke you up. 

(gif made by me)

He knew how precious your sleep was in your condition. He turned around to see you in deep sleep, cuddling your body pillow on one side while he occupied the other side until he arose. He saw you frown at the loss of his warmth and smiled softly at the adorable pout on your face. He couldn't resist kissing your brow, resting his lips there till your frown smoothed out. 

He fussed with the covers, trying to compensate for the loss of his body heat. He got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and left the bedroom to make breakfast for you. 

He knew from experience that although you loved pancakes of all kinds, your baby made you crave blueberry pancakes. He got to work on making them and started the coffee machine as well. 

His sharp ears caught the sound of your feet padding into the kitchen. He kept his back turned to you, however, hoping with a smile to himself that you’d come to him. 

And go to him you did, yawning and rubbing your eyes, sleepily seeking your husband’s warmth. You hugged his bare back, groaning when your pregnant belly got squished between you two and didn’t let you get as close to him as you wanted to be. 

“Steeb,” you whined, rubbing your nose between his shoulder blades. Steve smiled and pulled you into a half hug, slotting you up against his flank. You whined once again, wanting a bear hug. Sighing, he put his spatula down and obliged. “Why are you up, sweetie?” he asked in his gravelly morning voice. 

“Why are you?” came your reply against his chest. Steve chuckled and rocked you gently. “You know I don’t need much sleep, right?” he mumbled into the crown of your head, his hands stroking your hair and back, occasionally squeezing your lower back where he knew it hurt you a lot lately. “Mmm, yes, but you left and I was cold,” you whined again, burrowing your nose in his pillowy pecs. Steve kissed your head and whispered softly. “I’m sorry, sweetie. How’s the little bub?” 

“Still sleeping, but I bet either your voice or the smell of the pancakes will wake him,” you whispered back so as not to disturb his sleep. 

“Alright then, mama, have a seat at the table, I’ll bring you your coffee.”

“Decaf?” you checked with him. Coffee was your favorite thing in the world (Steve was a close second, although once the baby arrived, he was going to get demoted to number 3). It crushed you not to be able to partake in it due to the morning sickness, hence the decaf version. It had to do for now. 

Steve made a face that said, ‘obviously’ as he handed you the mug. The first sip breathed some life into you, and you sat up straighter, striking up a conversation with your husband about your trip to the gyno on the compound. “So… the doctor believes our baby boy will be here sooner than expected.” 

“Really?” Steve’s excited blue eyes turned on you, and you secretly prayed, not for the first time, that the baby inherits his beautiful eyes. 

You nodded. He had missed the appointment yesterday due to some work-related emergency and he was bummed about it. He was eager to hear all the details to make up for it. “Mmm-hmm. She said he’s growing faster than an average human child. So there’s a high chance I’ll be at full term before the usual nine months.” 

Steve went still. “Should we be worried?” 

You sighed, “No, Steve, it’s all under control. Apparently, he inherited your, um, serum enhancements, so…the theory is that his rapid growth is because of your rapid healing abilities. His cells grow faster or something like that.” Steve hummed, taking it all in. You perked up at your next statement. “And turns out I was right about my theory. The one about him being able to hear and smell things and respond.”

“Nah-”

“He recognised Bucky the other day.”

“That was a lucky chance-”

You two talked over each other as you bantered. Just then, you were interrupted by FRIDAY, the compound’s sentient AI. “Captain, sorry to bother you on your day off, but there are reports of a level 6 emergency..”

Like the flick of a switch, Steve's entire demeanor changed right before your eyes. Gone was the doting husband; in his place stood an Avenger. He stood protectively before you as if blocking you from any disturbing news. You didn't need to see or hear that in your state.  

"Do we have visuals?" he asked the AI. A flat projector screen descended from your ceiling, broadcasting the visuals STARK satellites might have gathered about the aforementioned incident. Steve didn't utter another word, just stood there taking it all in, his fists clenched by his sides the only indication of his rage. His voice was deceptively even when he said his next words, "Has Stark been alerted?"

"He's already on his way."

"Get the Quinjet ready,"

“Copy that, Captain. I’ll alert the others to gather in the briefing room,” Steve had already started towards your bedroom, and you guessed it was to fetch his uniform and weapons. You stood there for a moment, feeling helpless. You wanted to help him with every fiber of your being, but you knew that in your current state, you’d only slow him down and get in the way. 

But you still waddled to the hallway where you knew he had stored his holster and belt. You grabbed them and handed both to him as he left the bedroom, his uniform already donned. 

“Thanks, doll,” he breathed, and you stood on your tippy-toes trying to put the shoulder straps on him. He turned around and bent slightly so you could do it properly. Next, you helped him don the belt around his waist, and when you were done, you raised your doleful eyes at him. 

It was like the frantic energy of the room paused the moment your eyes met his. “Doll,” he sighed, “I know what you’re gonna say. I promise I’ll be careful. But I don’t have much time now. Thousands of lives are at stake.” You nodded, after all, you were well aware of what they all dealt with, thanks to your job (which you had taken a maternity sabbatical from) as a field analyst to the Avengers' core team. That’s how you had met and fallen in love with the hard-headed Captain, who was now your husband, Steve. 

You sighed and cast your gaze downward. Above your head, Steve did the same and then cupped your face with his hands. As you gazed up at him this time, your eyes were brimming with tears. Ever since you dated and later married Steve, you’ve had to see him off for countless missions, but that didn’t make the angst of separation any easier. Steve attributed it to your pregnancy hormones, but you knew better. He gave you a small smile and pressed his lips against yours in a deep yet quick kiss, stealing your breath away. “Love you,” he brushed those words against your lips while resting his forehead against yours. His body jerked as he made to pull away, but before he fully detached himself, he caressed your belly gently, “Love you too, bub. Be good for Momma, okay?” His words brought on another sob from you, but Steve had already overextended his goodbyes. With another caress to your cheeks, he parted, clipped his shield to his back, and broke out in a jog towards the briefing room.

Your feet rushed after him as if pulled by a magnet. Steve knew you would follow him to the door. “Don’t do anything stupid till I get back,” he threw over his shoulder at you as he continued sprinting. You smiled a watery smile at his retreating form, fully aware of the context. 

You stayed rooted to your spot in the doorway for an unknown amount of time, cradling your belly and lost in your thoughts. Movement from your son catapulted you into action as you decided to finish your breakfast. Going back to your cold coffee and pancakes, your mind was still reeling with worry for Steve’s safety. 

You were assigned to him after emerging as the most efficient field analyst hired by the Avengers HQ in the last year. You swiftly got promoted until you reached that stage, which your coworkers coveted as the ultimate goal. On the day of your induction, Tony had quipped that your chair was not the throne your coworkers made it seem like, but a chair of thorns, and that you’d need all the luck in the world to last even three months. His words rang true because Captain America was nearly impossible to work with. Not only was he technologically challenged, but he was also incredibly stubborn and reckless. He repeatedly ignored your inputs. He deliberately swerved left when you specifically told him over comms to go right. “Soldier’s instinct,” he would always argue. At first, his insubordination drew you up the wall, but slowly, you came to see it for what it was. It didn’t stem from arrogance as you wrongly assumed, but from his innate hardwiring to place the mission and his teammates’ safety above his own. When you took a deliberate step back from your anger, frustration, and annoyance at his actions, you saw a true leader and a selfless hero.

It went downhill from that point, where you struggled to maintain professionalism around him. Your admiration went from respect to crush to obsession to full-blown love. He was not oblivious to it, of course, and neither did he pretend to be. He went from exchanging just short of curse words with you on comms to actually listening to you on the field, from curt nods when he passed you in hallways to full-blown smiles. He insisted on your sitting in on the Avengers’ core meetings, opened doors and pulled chairs for you at those, much to everyone else’s silent amusement. Tony would loudly complain to you about the Captain’s foul moods on the rare occasions you took a day off and he had to work with a substitute. You were unofficially promoted to his personal assistant when he refused to hire another person to take care of his off-field responsibilities. “She just gets me like no one else can. We’re a team,” he had said with such a dazzling smile and shining eyes that you didn’t have the heart to turn down the huge pile of paperwork that implied. 

Everything escalated quickly when one day he was brought in from a tough mission to you chewing your nails and pacing the room. His comms had died out, and one by one, the team had started trickling in. You were guiding Sam Wilson in his aerial surveillance in looking for Captain Rogers. After 11 harrowing hours, the medic brought him in, barely conscious and severely injured. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, let alone sleep or eat, till you saw him in the flesh. Thankfully, his serum ensured that he was already healing in the Quinjet on his way over, able to prop himself up with some help. You marched in, and when you saw him, you could have either slapped him or kissed him, but instead, you let all hell loose and yelled at him as if he were a 5-year-old. Steve listened patiently to you ranting and losing your mind until you were close to ripping your hair out, at which point he pushed himself up into a sitting position using all his remaining strength, grabbed you, and kissed you soundly on the lips. “I knew it,” he had said, “I knew I was more than a job to you,” he had smirked after you reciprocated his kiss, and then promptly blushed and hid in his chest. “That means you’re gonna lose your best partner on the job,” you had mumbled, knowing the implications. “Never mind,” he had said as he dropped back down on his stretcher, “I’m gaining my best girl for life, hopefully.” You remembered his smile as he was carted away into the medbay. 

Cut to the present moment, you sighed as you bit into your cold breakfast, running a hand on your belly. “I wish you could read my mind, bubs,” you spoke to your son in your belly. “I just finished thinking about how I met your father.” It made sense to you now, why your goodbyes never became easier for you. With you stepping down as his assigned analyst (You insisted to Tony, citing ‘lack of objectivity’ when Steve flirted with you on missions more than once. You had to remind him, much to your chagrin, that your conversations weren’t exactly private). You had relinquished control of how he maneuvered himself on the field. You could no longer see him in action on the screen, sort of watching over him and ensuring his six was always covered. It was calming to your nerves to have that semblance of reassurance, but with that gone, you were just as helpless as any other military wife. 

But you weren’t complaining. The moment you and Steve began dating, you became an unofficial member of the Avengers. It felt odd at first, no longer being starstruck by the rest of them or squirming when they asked you to drop the honorifics and not act so professional around them. The boys all treated you like a delicate doll, seeing as you were not enhanced in any way. Some nights, you lay in bed pinching yourself, not able to believe that you had just returned from a pajama movie night with Wanda, Nat, and Pepper. Unreal.

As you reminisced about your relationship with Steve leading up to this moment, your child kicked you. “I know, bubs, do you miss Daddy already? I know I do,” you sighed. “It’s just…something about this mission doesn’t seem right to me,” you frowned, feeling unsettled. “Call it an analyst’s instinct but….I’ve got a bad gut feeling about this,” you muttered to yourself. “Oh, who am I kidding, no offense, bubs, but you’re just a smol bean, talking to you is not gonna help me, I need to talk to one of your uncles. Or aunties. Let’s go,” you made up your mind, pushed yourself out of your chair, and dumped the remaining cold coffee in the sink. 

You marched, no, waddled out, determined to find the first person on the staff to get in on this mission. Lady Luck must be shining on you because you crossed paths with none other than Bucky Barnes. 

“Hey, doll, where’s the fire?” he gave you his roguish half smile. 

“Bucky,” you breathed with relief. There was truly no better person to understand your predicament than your husband’s best friend. But wait a minute-

“Why aren’t you on the mission?” The uneasiness in your gut grew because this implied one less protector on the team. You knew very well that Bucky always had Steve’s back. Always.

“Well,” Bucky looked down at his prosthetic arm wistfully, “I busted the circuits in this thing on the last mission; it needs to be reprogrammed. So I’m benched.” 

Your frown deepened, and Bucky noticed that. “What’s up, doll?” he queried with his own frown. You decided to confide in him. “I have a gut feeling about this mission, Bucky. I need to know how it’s going.” 

Bucky looked at your face and your belly for a second before he replied. “You sure it’s not the little punk in there? Hi pal, it’s your uncle Bucky,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Bucky,” you sighed. “I’m sure it’s not. I just…can’t rest easy unless I know what’s going on.”

Bucky’s frown returned for a split second as he realized you were in no mood to joke. He smiled reassuringly, though, in the very next minute. “That’s easy, doll, and I’m surprised it didn’t strike you sooner,” he said as he started leading you away with him. You looked at him, puzzled. “The analyst’s bay, of course. You can ask your old pals on the staff about the updates, I’m sure they’ll be happy to provide them to you.” 

Bucky’s solution sounded good enough, although strangely it did nothing to settle your nerves. Nevertheless, you followed him, knowing that doing something rather than sitting on your hands will definitely ease your mind.

You reached the analytics bay and were surprised to see that it wasn’t buzzing with activity as you expected. Some of your ex-colleagues smiled at you from their desks, but nobody seemed to be in a rush or frantically giving remote guidance to the team. You saw Maria walking down one of the aisles, and you immediately stopped her. “Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I uh- wanted updates on the latest mission.” Maria cocked her head at you, her eyes softening. She measured her next words carefully before speaking, “I’m sorry, it’s a covert mission, and seeing as you’re no longer an analyst, you don’t have clearance to receive that information.” Knowing your hard-ass husband, you had anticipated this, sort of. But you weren’t about to give up. “Well, I don’t think I need clearance to know why the analysts aren’t working on the mission right now,” you gestured to the unhurried staff working around you. 

Maria sighed, knowing you could be as stubborn as your husband. “Look, I’m not saying this as the Chief of Ground Staff, but as your friend. Some analysts have traveled with the team on the Quinjet. They’ll be doing close surveillance as opposed to remote guidance. Captain’s orders,” She looked you square in the eye as she said it, hoping for it to be the final word on the matter. 

All the air left your lungs in a whoosh. Damn Steve. Trust him to hide important things from you. What was he thinking?

“I know what you’re thinking, doll,” Bucky broke you out of your reverie with a hand on your shoulder. “But can you blame him? If I had such precious cargo on the way,” he looked at your belly with eyes full of emotion, “I would do everything I could to make light of the situation. I would shield you from everything in the world if I could.”

“But that’s not how our partnership works, Bucky. It never has and it never will. And Steve knows that very well.” You said as you stomped out of the bay, one hand placed protectively on your bump. “Whatever he thought he was doing, he has succeeded in achieving the opposite. I’m even more worried than I was before. What started as a gut feeling is now a confirmation that things are bad.”

“Wait, where are you going, doll?” Bucky strode after you, trying to keep up with you. As if on autopilot, your feet were speed walking you over to the hangar. 

“Going to assist my husband on his mission, what does it look like?” You yelled at him over your shoulder. Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm. You winced as soon as you said it. You knew you could never outrun the Winter Soldier, your present condition notwithstanding. He was going to do everything in his power to stop you. You had to get him on your team. There was no other way.

“Doll,” Bucky cut through your path and held your arm. “What do you think you’re doing? In your condition? If Steve finds out you left the compound, and that too on my watch, he’ll kill me.”

“Bucky! I’m sorry, but I have to go. I would rather risk that than-” your bottom lip wobbled, “than Steve not c-c-oming home.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, doll, nothing’s gonna happen to him. This is not his first rodeo, alright? He knows what he’s doing, plus he’s not alone. In fact,” Bucky chuckled, going for humor again, “he once jumped out of a plane without his parachute and landed without a scratch on him.” Your mouth dropped open in horror, and Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm as he realized it was the wrong thing to say, “NOT HELPING BUCKY,” you yelled and started walking towards the hangar again.

“Doll, please don’t do this. You don’t have to. Everything’s under control. Do you see other spouses running to the hangar like this? This is reckless and stupid.”

You paused in your tracks and turned around to face him. “Bucky. If you bring my pregnancy hormones into this one more time, I swear to God,” you didn’t know what to threaten him with, but you hoped your voice carried enough menace in it. “I am not a concerned spouse. I was the best analyst on duty. I want to offer my services. Can’t you see? Analysts traveling with the team is completely unorthodox. This is more serious than they’re letting on. The team needs me. Now you have two choices. Help me and face Steve’s wrath, or do nothing and regret. Your choice. I’m going anyway; the least you can do is not try to stop me. Apart from that, you decide, and decide quickly. Time is slipping away.”

Bucky gulped and cursed to himself, shaking his head and following you. “I’m gonna kick my own ass before Steve does if this goes south.” 

You smiled and paced towards the Quinjet that was on standby. “Don’t do that just yet. I’m gonna need you to fly this thing.”

Bucky used his ID to unlock the jet and get into the cockpit. He fired up the engine, and immediately the plane was filled with FRIDAY’s disembodied voice. “Authorization request. State your name and mission.” 

“Sergeant James Barnes, codename Winter Soldier.”

“ID confirmed. Clearance granted. State your mission.”

“Uh, FRIDAY, I want you to pull up the recent mission logs,” Bucky racked his brain and spoke aloud a cryptic serial number. 

“Noted. The logs do not mention you being assigned to the mission, Sergeant. I’m sorry I can’t share the real-time status updates with you.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment before responding. “I have Core Team Clearance. Please overrule the lock FRIDAY.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ll have to obtain clearance from Mr. Stark for this. Contacting him right now.”

Oh no. This can’t be good. Before Bucky could open his mouth, you interjected. “FRIDAY, this is Y/N Rogers. We have intel that the team is going to need reinforcements. WE are the reinforcements. There’s no need to contact Tony and interrupt him on his mission.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll need to ID you.” Sighing, you spoke your credentials out loud. 

“Confirmed. My records confirm that you have Core Team Clearance, too. The rulebook allows me to override the need for further clearance.” The screen popped up with the coordinates of the team’s location. “Good luck, Sergeant, Mrs. Rogers.” 

Bucky fired up the engine, and the plane was ready for takeoff. “Uh, FRIDAY, one last thing, please relay this communication to base: DO NOT alert the field ops about our presence. The reinforcement is classified because we don’t want the hostiles to know. Do you copy?” Bucky ordered the AI. 

“I copy that, Sergeant,” and with that, you were off the tarmac and airborne. 

You fought the nausea that was imminent for a pregnant lady on a plane. It wasn’t as difficult as you suspected, seeing as you were a woman on a mission after all. 

About a couple of hours later, you were close to the site of the mission. Bucky turned on the reflectors so you could go undetected by the enemy. He landed as close as possible to the temporary base set up for the analysts at a distance from the location of the skirmish. The two of you were alarmed to see the signs of destruction already. There was a lot of debris, collapsed buildings, and totaled cars that you were making your way through. Once you reached the base, you ran inside and grabbed one of the analysts by the shoulders. “Which one of you is running ops for the Captain?” Startled, they pointed towards the right person, and you immediately darted over there. Some of them began protesting in murmurs, which were silenced by Bucky. He stood guard at the entrance with his rifle drawn. 

The analyst assigned to Steve was stunned to see you standing over him. He continued to gape at you. “Move!” you yelled, roughly grabbing him by the shoulder. He left his seat in a daze, and you quickly dropped into the chair vacated by him. You donned his headset, eyes scanning the screen even as you performed your other movements. 

God, it felt good to be back. It was all coming back to you via muscle memory. You were glad to know that you weren’t losing your touch. 

“Beagle, do you copy? Beagle! I need visuals,” your husband’s voice yelled over the comms, mentioning the code name of the previous operator. You could hear gunshots and explosions in the background. Typical. 

You took a deep breath to calibrate yourself to the task at hand. “Copy that, Captain, this is Desert Hawk,” you announced your call sign as per the protocol. For a moment, all you heard was static accompanied by deep breaths. You copied him, too, needing all your focus to remember that you had to separate your husband from your mission, intersected as they were. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” He exploded. You blinked.

Wow. You weren’t expecting that. You just assumed that you’ll catch him off guard mid-action and he’ll have no choice but to oblige. But he sounded furious. You gulped and squared your shoulders. 

“No time to explain. This is an emergency. Beagle is safe. I’ve taken over.”

"Abort mission, I’m gonna stop you right there, Desert Hawk. I want you to return to base immediately. IT’S AN ORDER,” He yelled. 

“With all due respect, Captain, you could use my expertise. Now I’m gonna have to overrule your direct order temporarily and comply with the sitrep demand,” you scanned the perimeter on your screen from his vantage point, looking for an opportunity to evacuate. Safe to say that you had earned your codename. You were an expert at spotting covert evac points. 

“I see a potential evac point 10 miles to your Southwest, Cap. I suggest you, Nat and Clint, I mean, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton, head over there, stat.”

“You do realize there’s a penalty for insubordination, right?” he growled in barely suppressed fury, completely ignoring the message you relayed. 

Oh boy. The situation was rapidly going south. Not good at all. 

“Roger that, Captain,” you tried your best to keep your voice from quivering. “May I repeat the message, sir?” 

“Oh, NOW you’re asking PERMISSION?” Okay. This you could not entertain. You were trying to be an analyst and not his wife, but your husband was hell-bent on quarreling as if it were your bedroom and not the battlefield. It was time to deflect. 

“Captain, do I need to remind you of the task at hand?” you stated in a raised tone before prattling off the coordinates again. 

“I heard you just fine the first time,” he grumbled, and a grenade went off too close to his earpiece. You gulped and winced. 

“Captain, PLEASE get out of there.”

“How many hostages?” He ignored you again. You sighed, cursed him, and relayed the information. And as was usual in your camaraderie with him, you gave him an additional nugget of advice. “Mr. Stark, Falcon, and War Machine will handle the evac of hostages aerially.” 

“Roger that,” he said in such a strained voice that you could picture his distended neck veins, which you saw in your arguments with him when he sounded exactly like that. “I repeat, Desert Hawk, I hope you recall the consequences of insubordination.”

“Y-yes, Captain. I do,” you gulped, knowing he was not gonna drop it till you acquiesced. 

“Damn right you do,” he growled under his breath but the comms picked it up nevertheless. Your panties grew damp at his low tone. A part of you wanted him there with you, right now, punishing you as he saw fit. 

“Captain, update your status.” You checked with him after a brief pause. 

“All clear. Sitrep update, stat,” he replied. 

“All clear for you to evac. Please relay your orders to the airborne team.”

“Copy that. I’ll see you in 10 minutes. Don’t. Move,” he said in a menacing voice, and then he turned the comms off. He actually, straight up, did that. You were so astounded that you threw your headset off. 

The rest of the time, you and the other analysts waited with bated breath. Sam and Nat were online, so you still had information pouring in. It looked like the situation was under control, much to your relief. 

Bucky was standing guard at the entrance. He straightened when your husband, Captain America himself, walked, no, practically burst in. 

(gif made by me)

The relief that you forgot to feel in the heat of the moment after hearing his voice for the first time came crashing down on you at the sight of him. He was bruised, bloody, and looking like a battle god. Fear and arousal clamored in your system, although they couldn’t overwhelm your relief. “Everyone! Leave us. Right now,” he commanded the rest of the room, without breaking eye contact with you. 

Chest heaving, you dared not utter a single word or take your eyes off him. You didn’t need to guess that he didn’t mean you by that. 

“Sergeant Barnes, you’ll transport the tech team to the base and immediately get back here.” He turned and looked at Bucky, whose eyes were shifting between you and Steve. “I’ll deal with you then,” he narrowed his eyes at his best friend. Bucky had no choice but to comply. He nodded and left, sparing one more concerned glance in your direction. 

“You’ll not punish Bucky, Steve,” you stated before your courage deserted you. “He didn’t act on his own accord.”

“QUIET!” He yelled so loudly he made you recoil in surprise. “I’m still your Captain, and you’ll address me as such. Do you understand?” 

You flinched but then nodded. “Use your words,” he stated with cold fury in his voice. 

“Y-yes, Captain.”

“As the leader of this mission, it is my responsibility to mete out punishments to insubordinate team members, and I’m dispensing it,” he said as he dropped his shield and took off his helmet. “But as your husband, I’m gonna have to be careful,” he added with a softness that betrayed his feelings. 

He turned, locked the door and windows, and then advanced on you. He marched straight into your personal space, crowding you against a table in the corner. “What were you thinking, huh? WHY did you put me in a situation like that? I was so scared when I heard your voice on comms that the shock alone would’ve killed me, had I been a lesser man. Didn’t even need bullets to take me out.” 

You had your eyes downcast, letting him have his moment. His rage was totally justified, and you knew it. But when you looked back up at him, you didn’t expect him to look pained. 

He looked so distraught that you stepped towards him and made to touch his cheek. He swatted your hand away. “What you did today cannot happen again, is that clear?” 

“On one condition.” Oh boy, you had some hubris. Even Steve narrowed his eyes at you. "You're in no position to-"

"I know." You held your palms up. "But hear me out. You'll not say a word to Bucky. Not a word. That's my condition."

Steve still stared at you. Breathing hard. But he didn't reply. 

"Please. I beg you," you choked out, tears pooling in your eyes. 

"Now that's more like it. Kneel." He said with a finality that brokered no argument. You complied, supporting your belly as you did so. 

"I'm gonna take your mouth, and I'm gonna take it hard. Tap my thigh if you can't breathe. Got it?" 

You nodded, looking up at him, eyes watery with unshed tears. Steve's cock lurched at the pretty sight that was you, on your knees at his mercy, begging. And round with his child. He felt the perverse pleasure of the moment surge through him and harden him further. 

He unzipped his pants, only letting his hard member out. The rest of him was still fully dressed. It was a first for you, too; you had never played while he was in his uniform. It was definitely doing something for you. 

You surged forward and grabbed him with both hands, but he flicked your wrists away. "Ah ah ah, you can only use your mouth. Hands behind your back." You obliged. He stroked himself once and then held his shaft up at the base so that the mushroom head was pointing straight at you. 

You wrapped your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around his sensitive head and flicking it rapidly against his frenulum. He moaned, and his knees buckled. He planted his palms on the table behind you and cursed. You slowly took more and more of him into your mouth, breathing slowly through your nose. He let you set the pace, thankfully, as you let him sink to the back of your throat. 

Fresh tears bloomed in your eyes, but these were due to the struggle of not gagging against him. He stretched your throat with his bulge, but you focused on your breathing and letting yourself adjust. Once you felt you were stable, you bobbed your neck back and forth, stimulating his length with your mouth. 

He did not touch you till you found a slow rhythm. But once you started deep-throating him vigorously, he started pumping his hips in tandem with you. He found his rhythm, going back when you came forth so that he had more room to fuck your face on the next stroke in. You moaned as he took more and more control, your eyes going glassy as you slipped into subspace. Seeing you dropping, he quickly held the sides of your face and threaded his fingers through your hair. He stilled for a moment. "Remember, you can tap out if it gets too much. Tap if you understand". He waited with bated breath till one of your hands weakly came up and tapped lightly on his thigh. Taking it as his go-ahead, he started thrusting into your mouth vigorously, using his hold on your hair to pull and push you on his cock. 

His thrusts became animalistic as drool and precum dripped down your chin and chest. He started grunting, and his thrusts became rougher, a telltale sign that he was about to come. You winced and closed your eyes, preparing to feel his hot salty cum fill your throat or splatter on your face, but he pulled out altogether. Bereft and dazed, you looked up at him to see him pull you up by your arms and manhandle you like a ragdoll on the table. 

He lay you flat on your back and stripped off your pants and panties. He turned you on one side and pushed your hips closer till you were folded in a fetal position. "You okay?" He gasped, and you tapped your own thigh, out of your mind already. "Use your words," he said sternly. 

"'m okay," you mumbled. He straightened again. "I'm gonna give you 20 spanks and then I'm gonna fuck you. You're not allowed to tap out unless you feel there's any harm to the baby. You got that?"  

"Yes, sir," you slurred, floating in your subspace. 

He propelled your body slightly forward as he landed his first hard spank on your ass. You whimpered and continued to take it on your limp body, jolting forward with every spank that landed on your cheeks. After your punishment was done, you were sure that your bottom was going to be flaming red. He placed a firm palm on your upper thigh, rolling it slightly forward so that your puffy lips were better visible to him. 

"Wet already, hmm?" He said as he tested your pussy with two fingers. "That's good enough," he grunted as he shoved himself into you and immediately set a brutal pace. A long whine of pain and pleasure left you the moment he entered you roughly. You stretched out one hand to grab the edge of the table you were on, afraid that the table might snap if its violent shaking at Steve's thrusts was any indication.

“Don’t. Ever. Do. That. To. Me. Ever. Again, got that?” Steve punched out each word in tandem with his thrusts. His balls and thighs slapped against the back of yours, and if you'd been a little more conscious, you would have squealed at his onslaught. Mad with rage as he was, you trusted him to still be in control fully and never do anything to put you in harm's way. Even in punishment, you felt safe, not feeling the need to tap out; safe in the knowledge that your husband and the father of your child was safe and back with you, punishing you because he cared for you. 

He got you cock drunk on his thrusts, and your head felt like it was full of cotton and the word 'safe' was pinging inside it. You lolled your head back and surrendered your body to your Captain. One of his fingerless glove-covered palms cupped your mound, the texture abrasive against your soft skin while his fingers teased your clit. You shuddered and made a few guttural noises as you couldn't hold it in, but you dared not cum unless he allowed you. 

"Did so well. Took the punishment like a champ. Let go honey, you can cum," he panted through the exertion of working your body over. White hot bliss filled your entire being as your toes curled, and a flutter started up in your womb and shuddered through you. It caught him, too, and he moaned as he soldiered through it until he spurted, spent and sated. He collapsed next to you, gently pulled himself out, and rolled you over to inspect you.  

You were still blissed out and limp. Steve dressed you and lifted you in his arms, cooing at you and stroking your hair and face. “Let me see your pretty eyes, lovely,” he said as he stroked your tummy next. You whined and buried your face in his chest, still not ready to let go of the warm, fuzzy headspace you were in. Steve kissed your head and kept cooing and cuddling you as he sat on the table with you in his arms, waiting for Bucky to return. 

On the Quinjet back home, you stirred and sat up. Steve was still holding you and chatting with Bucky as the latter steered the plane back home. You propped yourself up and smiled at Steve, making him look down at you. You held your breath for a beat until his lips stretched out in a fond smile. “Hey, doll, there you are. How are you feeling?” 

A surge of relief went through you at the sight of his relaxed countenance. You dropped your cheek back to his chest, the coarse fabric of his uniform abrading your skin. You smiled to yourself, “Mmmm, all good. I see things are all good here, too?” You looked up and glanced between him and Bucky in the cockpit. 

Steve raised his eyebrows at you. “Yes. You know I had to keep my word after you were so good to me. Took the punishment so well,” you preened at that, but Steve frowned, “I’ve been waiting to check with you: how’s our bubs?” 

You rubbed your tummy fondly, “All snuggly and quiet in there. Looks like he’s scared of angry Daddy,” you pouted up at him. 

Steve’s frown deepened, and he pressed his lips together. “As he should. Doll, we need to talk about this.” Your back straightened, and you gulped, knowing what was to come. 

“What you did back there was brave. Brave, but extremely stupid. How am I supposed to rest knowing you can pull shit like that again? How can I trust you not to do it again? I’ll not stop short of tying you to our bed before I leave for a mission. Or have FRIDAY bar you from leaving the compound. Thought I told you not to do anything stupid until I got back, huh? Didn’t I?"

You looked down as you played with your fingers, pouting. “Yes, you did, Steve. I was just worried. I know how you get on the field. You’re one to talk about brave and stupid. You’re reckless, too!”

“Hmmm looks like I’m gonna have to fix that mouth when we get back,” he narrowed his eyes at you with a light slap to your ass. You winced, “after I put some aloe on this ass,” he added. You said nothing, knowing it’ll only make matters worse for you if you did. Steve sighed and spoke again, “Doll, I get it. But you have to know, with our little one on the way, I want to be careful too. I want to come home to both of you. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna pull my punches or stop trying to do my duty. I’m trying to find a balance here. And you have to trust the team, we’ve got the best people, and we’ve always got each other’s backs. But I promise I’ll be careful. Can you promise me you’ll be careful too? You’ve got two lives to care about. It’s not just you anymore.”

“That’s fair, Steve,” you whispered. “I promise, too. This won’t happen again. I’ll be careful.”

“You better,” Steve warned, but he gave you a small smile and gathered you close. He kissed your forehead, “You two are my world. I’ll always protect you.”

You smiled back, cuddled him, and fell back asleep. All was right in your world, now that your Captain had briefed you about your mission (to keep baby Rogers safe).

fin   

✪ A/N2: Whew! Love protective Angry Dom Steve 🥵 I do not regret my actions.

I'd love to hear from you all about this fic! I could use feedback since I am coming back to writing after a long break.

The morning sun streaming through the curtains woke Steve up. A light sleeper himself, he wasn't bothered by that, but he arose to shut them tighter before it woke you up. 

(gif made by me)

He knew how precious your sleep was in your condition. He turned around to see you in deep sleep, cuddling your body pillow on one side while he occupied the other side until he arose. He saw you frown at the loss of his warmth and smiled softly at the adorable pout on your face. He couldn't resist kissing your brow, resting his lips there till your frown smoothed out. 

He fussed with the covers, trying to compensate for the loss of his body heat. He got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and left the bedroom to make breakfast for you. 

He knew from experience that although you loved pancakes of all kinds, your baby made you crave blueberry pancakes. He got to work on making them and started the coffee machine as well. 

His sharp ears caught the sound of your feet padding into the kitchen. He kept his back turned to you, however, hoping with a smile to himself that you’d come to him. 

And go to him you did, yawning and rubbing your eyes, sleepily seeking your husband’s warmth. You hugged his bare back, groaning when your pregnant belly got squished between you two and didn’t let you get as close to him as you wanted to be. 

“Steeb,” you whined, rubbing your nose between his shoulder blades. Steve smiled and pulled you into a half hug, slotting you up against his flank. You whined once again, wanting a bear hug. Sighing, he put his spatula down and obliged. “Why are you up, sweetie?” he asked in his gravelly morning voice. 

“Why are you?” came your reply against his chest. Steve chuckled and rocked you gently. “You know I don’t need much sleep, right?” he mumbled into the crown of your head, his hands stroking your hair and back, occasionally squeezing your lower back where he knew it hurt you a lot lately. “Mmm, yes, but you left and I was cold,” you whined again, burrowing your nose in his pillowy pecs. Steve kissed your head and whispered softly. “I’m sorry, sweetie. How’s the little bub?” 

“Still sleeping, but I bet either your voice or the smell of the pancakes will wake him,” you whispered back so as not to disturb his sleep. 

“Alright then, mama, have a seat at the table, I’ll bring you your coffee.”

“Decaf?” you checked with him. Coffee was your favorite thing in the world (Steve was a close second, although once the baby arrived, he was going to get demoted to number 3). It crushed you not to be able to partake in it due to the morning sickness, hence the decaf version. It had to do for now. 

Steve made a face that said, ‘obviously’ as he handed you the mug. The first sip breathed some life into you, and you sat up straighter, striking up a conversation with your husband about your trip to the gyno on the compound. “So… the doctor believes our baby boy will be here sooner than expected.” 

“Really?” Steve’s excited blue eyes turned on you, and you secretly prayed, not for the first time, that the baby inherits his beautiful eyes. 

You nodded. He had missed the appointment yesterday due to some work-related emergency and he was bummed about it. He was eager to hear all the details to make up for it. “Mmm-hmm. She said he’s growing faster than an average human child. So there’s a high chance I’ll be at full term before the usual nine months.” 

Steve went still. “Should we be worried?” 

You sighed, “No, Steve, it’s all under control. Apparently, he inherited your, um, serum enhancements, so…the theory is that his rapid growth is because of your rapid healing abilities. His cells grow faster or something like that.” Steve hummed, taking it all in. You perked up at your next statement. “And turns out I was right about my theory. The one about him being able to hear and smell things and respond.”

“Nah-”

“He recognised Bucky the other day.”

“That was a lucky chance-”

You two talked over each other as you bantered. Just then, you were interrupted by FRIDAY, the compound’s sentient AI. “Captain, sorry to bother you on your day off, but there are reports of a level 6 emergency..”

Like the flick of a switch, Steve's entire demeanor changed right before your eyes. Gone was the doting husband; in his place stood an Avenger. He stood protectively before you as if blocking you from any disturbing news. You didn't need to see or hear that in your state.  

"Do we have visuals?" he asked the AI. A flat projector screen descended from your ceiling, broadcasting the visuals STARK satellites might have gathered about the aforementioned incident. Steve didn't utter another word, just stood there taking it all in, his fists clenched by his sides the only indication of his rage. His voice was deceptively even when he said his next words, "Has Stark been alerted?"

"He's already on his way."

"Get the Quinjet ready,"

“Copy that, Captain. I’ll alert the others to gather in the briefing room,” Steve had already started towards your bedroom, and you guessed it was to fetch his uniform and weapons. You stood there for a moment, feeling helpless. You wanted to help him with every fiber of your being, but you knew that in your current state, you’d only slow him down and get in the way. 

But you still waddled to the hallway where you knew he had stored his holster and belt. You grabbed them and handed both to him as he left the bedroom, his uniform already donned. 

“Thanks, doll,” he breathed, and you stood on your tippy-toes trying to put the shoulder straps on him. He turned around and bent slightly so you could do it properly. Next, you helped him don the belt around his waist, and when you were done, you raised your doleful eyes at him. 

It was like the frantic energy of the room paused the moment your eyes met his. “Doll,” he sighed, “I know what you’re gonna say. I promise I’ll be careful. But I don’t have much time now. Thousands of lives are at stake.” You nodded, after all, you were well aware of what they all dealt with, thanks to your job (which you had taken a maternity sabbatical from) as a field analyst to the Avengers' core team. That’s how you had met and fallen in love with the hard-headed Captain, who was now your husband, Steve. 

You sighed and cast your gaze downward. Above your head, Steve did the same and then cupped your face with his hands. As you gazed up at him this time, your eyes were brimming with tears. Ever since you dated and later married Steve, you’ve had to see him off for countless missions, but that didn’t make the angst of separation any easier. Steve attributed it to your pregnancy hormones, but you knew better. He gave you a small smile and pressed his lips against yours in a deep yet quick kiss, stealing your breath away. “Love you,” he brushed those words against your lips while resting his forehead against yours. His body jerked as he made to pull away, but before he fully detached himself, he caressed your belly gently, “Love you too, bub. Be good for Momma, okay?” His words brought on another sob from you, but Steve had already overextended his goodbyes. With another caress to your cheeks, he parted, clipped his shield to his back, and broke out in a jog towards the briefing room.

Your feet rushed after him as if pulled by a magnet. Steve knew you would follow him to the door. “Don’t do anything stupid till I get back,” he threw over his shoulder at you as he continued sprinting. You smiled a watery smile at his retreating form, fully aware of the context. 

You stayed rooted to your spot in the doorway for an unknown amount of time, cradling your belly and lost in your thoughts. Movement from your son catapulted you into action as you decided to finish your breakfast. Going back to your cold coffee and pancakes, your mind was still reeling with worry for Steve’s safety. 

You were assigned to him after emerging as the most efficient field analyst hired by the Avengers HQ in the last year. You swiftly got promoted until you reached that stage, which your coworkers coveted as the ultimate goal. On the day of your induction, Tony had quipped that your chair was not the throne your coworkers made it seem like, but a chair of thorns, and that you’d need all the luck in the world to last even three months. His words rang true because Captain America was nearly impossible to work with. Not only was he technologically challenged, but he was also incredibly stubborn and reckless. He repeatedly ignored your inputs. He deliberately swerved left when you specifically told him over comms to go right. “Soldier’s instinct,” he would always argue. At first, his insubordination drew you up the wall, but slowly, you came to see it for what it was. It didn’t stem from arrogance as you wrongly assumed, but from his innate hardwiring to place the mission and his teammates’ safety above his own. When you took a deliberate step back from your anger, frustration, and annoyance at his actions, you saw a true leader and a selfless hero.

It went downhill from that point, where you struggled to maintain professionalism around him. Your admiration went from respect to crush to obsession to full-blown love. He was not oblivious to it, of course, and neither did he pretend to be. He went from exchanging just short of curse words with you on comms to actually listening to you on the field, from curt nods when he passed you in hallways to full-blown smiles. He insisted on your sitting in on the Avengers’ core meetings, opened doors and pulled chairs for you at those, much to everyone else’s silent amusement. Tony would loudly complain to you about the Captain’s foul moods on the rare occasions you took a day off and he had to work with a substitute. You were unofficially promoted to his personal assistant when he refused to hire another person to take care of his off-field responsibilities. “She just gets me like no one else can. We’re a team,” he had said with such a dazzling smile and shining eyes that you didn’t have the heart to turn down the huge pile of paperwork that implied. 

Everything escalated quickly when one day he was brought in from a tough mission to you chewing your nails and pacing the room. His comms had died out, and one by one, the team had started trickling in. You were guiding Sam Wilson in his aerial surveillance in looking for Captain Rogers. After 11 harrowing hours, the medic brought him in, barely conscious and severely injured. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, let alone sleep or eat, till you saw him in the flesh. Thankfully, his serum ensured that he was already healing in the Quinjet on his way over, able to prop himself up with some help. You marched in, and when you saw him, you could have either slapped him or kissed him, but instead, you let all hell loose and yelled at him as if he were a 5-year-old. Steve listened patiently to you ranting and losing your mind until you were close to ripping your hair out, at which point he pushed himself up into a sitting position using all his remaining strength, grabbed you, and kissed you soundly on the lips. “I knew it,” he had said, “I knew I was more than a job to you,” he had smirked after you reciprocated his kiss, and then promptly blushed and hid in his chest. “That means you’re gonna lose your best partner on the job,” you had mumbled, knowing the implications. “Never mind,” he had said as he dropped back down on his stretcher, “I’m gaining my best girl for life, hopefully.” You remembered his smile as he was carted away into the medbay. 

Cut to the present moment, you sighed as you bit into your cold breakfast, running a hand on your belly. “I wish you could read my mind, bubs,” you spoke to your son in your belly. “I just finished thinking about how I met your father.” It made sense to you now, why your goodbyes never became easier for you. With you stepping down as his assigned analyst (You insisted to Tony, citing ‘lack of objectivity’ when Steve flirted with you on missions more than once. You had to remind him, much to your chagrin, that your conversations weren’t exactly private). You had relinquished control of how he maneuvered himself on the field. You could no longer see him in action on the screen, sort of watching over him and ensuring his six was always covered. It was calming to your nerves to have that semblance of reassurance, but with that gone, you were just as helpless as any other military wife. 

But you weren’t complaining. The moment you and Steve began dating, you became an unofficial member of the Avengers. It felt odd at first, no longer being starstruck by the rest of them or squirming when they asked you to drop the honorifics and not act so professional around them. The boys all treated you like a delicate doll, seeing as you were not enhanced in any way. Some nights, you lay in bed pinching yourself, not able to believe that you had just returned from a pajama movie night with Wanda, Nat, and Pepper. Unreal.

As you reminisced about your relationship with Steve leading up to this moment, your child kicked you. “I know, bubs, do you miss Daddy already? I know I do,” you sighed. “It’s just…something about this mission doesn’t seem right to me,” you frowned, feeling unsettled. “Call it an analyst’s instinct but….I’ve got a bad gut feeling about this,” you muttered to yourself. “Oh, who am I kidding, no offense, bubs, but you’re just a smol bean, talking to you is not gonna help me, I need to talk to one of your uncles. Or aunties. Let’s go,” you made up your mind, pushed yourself out of your chair, and dumped the remaining cold coffee in the sink. 

You marched, no, waddled out, determined to find the first person on the staff to get in on this mission. Lady Luck must be shining on you because you crossed paths with none other than Bucky Barnes. 

“Hey, doll, where’s the fire?” he gave you his roguish half smile. 

“Bucky,” you breathed with relief. There was truly no better person to understand your predicament than your husband’s best friend. But wait a minute-

“Why aren’t you on the mission?” The uneasiness in your gut grew because this implied one less protector on the team. You knew very well that Bucky always had Steve’s back. Always.

“Well,” Bucky looked down at his prosthetic arm wistfully, “I busted the circuits in this thing on the last mission; it needs to be reprogrammed. So I’m benched.” 

Your frown deepened, and Bucky noticed that. “What’s up, doll?” he queried with his own frown. You decided to confide in him. “I have a gut feeling about this mission, Bucky. I need to know how it’s going.” 

Bucky looked at your face and your belly for a second before he replied. “You sure it’s not the little punk in there? Hi pal, it’s your uncle Bucky,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Bucky,” you sighed. “I’m sure it’s not. I just…can’t rest easy unless I know what’s going on.”

Bucky’s frown returned for a split second as he realized you were in no mood to joke. He smiled reassuringly, though, in the very next minute. “That’s easy, doll, and I’m surprised it didn’t strike you sooner,” he said as he started leading you away with him. You looked at him, puzzled. “The analyst’s bay, of course. You can ask your old pals on the staff about the updates, I’m sure they’ll be happy to provide them to you.” 

Bucky’s solution sounded good enough, although strangely it did nothing to settle your nerves. Nevertheless, you followed him, knowing that doing something rather than sitting on your hands will definitely ease your mind.

You reached the analytics bay and were surprised to see that it wasn’t buzzing with activity as you expected. Some of your ex-colleagues smiled at you from their desks, but nobody seemed to be in a rush or frantically giving remote guidance to the team. You saw Maria walking down one of the aisles, and you immediately stopped her. “Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I uh- wanted updates on the latest mission.” Maria cocked her head at you, her eyes softening. She measured her next words carefully before speaking, “I’m sorry, it’s a covert mission, and seeing as you’re no longer an analyst, you don’t have clearance to receive that information.” Knowing your hard-ass husband, you had anticipated this, sort of. But you weren’t about to give up. “Well, I don’t think I need clearance to know why the analysts aren’t working on the mission right now,” you gestured to the unhurried staff working around you. 

Maria sighed, knowing you could be as stubborn as your husband. “Look, I’m not saying this as the Chief of Ground Staff, but as your friend. Some analysts have traveled with the team on the Quinjet. They’ll be doing close surveillance as opposed to remote guidance. Captain’s orders,” She looked you square in the eye as she said it, hoping for it to be the final word on the matter. 

All the air left your lungs in a whoosh. Damn Steve. Trust him to hide important things from you. What was he thinking?

“I know what you’re thinking, doll,” Bucky broke you out of your reverie with a hand on your shoulder. “But can you blame him? If I had such precious cargo on the way,” he looked at your belly with eyes full of emotion, “I would do everything I could to make light of the situation. I would shield you from everything in the world if I could.”

“But that’s not how our partnership works, Bucky. It never has and it never will. And Steve knows that very well.” You said as you stomped out of the bay, one hand placed protectively on your bump. “Whatever he thought he was doing, he has succeeded in achieving the opposite. I’m even more worried than I was before. What started as a gut feeling is now a confirmation that things are bad.”

“Wait, where are you going, doll?” Bucky strode after you, trying to keep up with you. As if on autopilot, your feet were speed walking you over to the hangar. 

“Going to assist my husband on his mission, what does it look like?” You yelled at him over your shoulder. Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm. You winced as soon as you said it. You knew you could never outrun the Winter Soldier, your present condition notwithstanding. He was going to do everything in his power to stop you. You had to get him on your team. There was no other way.

“Doll,” Bucky cut through your path and held your arm. “What do you think you’re doing? In your condition? If Steve finds out you left the compound, and that too on my watch, he’ll kill me.”

“Bucky! I’m sorry, but I have to go. I would rather risk that than-” your bottom lip wobbled, “than Steve not c-c-oming home.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, doll, nothing’s gonna happen to him. This is not his first rodeo, alright? He knows what he’s doing, plus he’s not alone. In fact,” Bucky chuckled, going for humor again, “he once jumped out of a plane without his parachute and landed without a scratch on him.” Your mouth dropped open in horror, and Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm as he realized it was the wrong thing to say, “NOT HELPING BUCKY,” you yelled and started walking towards the hangar again.

“Doll, please don’t do this. You don’t have to. Everything’s under control. Do you see other spouses running to the hangar like this? This is reckless and stupid.”

You paused in your tracks and turned around to face him. “Bucky. If you bring my pregnancy hormones into this one more time, I swear to God,” you didn’t know what to threaten him with, but you hoped your voice carried enough menace in it. “I am not a concerned spouse. I was the best analyst on duty. I want to offer my services. Can’t you see? Analysts traveling with the team is completely unorthodox. This is more serious than they’re letting on. The team needs me. Now you have two choices. Help me and face Steve’s wrath, or do nothing and regret. Your choice. I’m going anyway; the least you can do is not try to stop me. Apart from that, you decide, and decide quickly. Time is slipping away.”

Bucky gulped and cursed to himself, shaking his head and following you. “I’m gonna kick my own ass before Steve does if this goes south.” 

You smiled and paced towards the Quinjet that was on standby. “Don’t do that just yet. I’m gonna need you to fly this thing.”

Bucky used his ID to unlock the jet and get into the cockpit. He fired up the engine, and immediately the plane was filled with FRIDAY’s disembodied voice. “Authorization request. State your name and mission.” 

“Sergeant James Barnes, codename Winter Soldier.”

“ID confirmed. Clearance granted. State your mission.”

“Uh, FRIDAY, I want you to pull up the recent mission logs,” Bucky racked his brain and spoke aloud a cryptic serial number. 

“Noted. The logs do not mention you being assigned to the mission, Sergeant. I’m sorry I can’t share the real-time status updates with you.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment before responding. “I have Core Team Clearance. Please overrule the lock FRIDAY.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ll have to obtain clearance from Mr. Stark for this. Contacting him right now.”

Oh no. This can’t be good. Before Bucky could open his mouth, you interjected. “FRIDAY, this is Y/N Rogers. We have intel that the team is going to need reinforcements. WE are the reinforcements. There’s no need to contact Tony and interrupt him on his mission.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll need to ID you.” Sighing, you spoke your credentials out loud. 

“Confirmed. My records confirm that you have Core Team Clearance, too. The rulebook allows me to override the need for further clearance.” The screen popped up with the coordinates of the team’s location. “Good luck, Sergeant, Mrs. Rogers.” 

Bucky fired up the engine, and the plane was ready for takeoff. “Uh, FRIDAY, one last thing, please relay this communication to base: DO NOT alert the field ops about our presence. The reinforcement is classified because we don’t want the hostiles to know. Do you copy?” Bucky ordered the AI. 

“I copy that, Sergeant,” and with that, you were off the tarmac and airborne. 

You fought the nausea that was imminent for a pregnant lady on a plane. It wasn’t as difficult as you suspected, seeing as you were a woman on a mission after all. 

About a couple of hours later, you were close to the site of the mission. Bucky turned on the reflectors so you could go undetected by the enemy. He landed as close as possible to the temporary base set up for the analysts at a distance from the location of the skirmish. The two of you were alarmed to see the signs of destruction already. There was a lot of debris, collapsed buildings, and totaled cars that you were making your way through. Once you reached the base, you ran inside and grabbed one of the analysts by the shoulders. “Which one of you is running ops for the Captain?” Startled, they pointed towards the right person, and you immediately darted over there. Some of them began protesting in murmurs, which were silenced by Bucky. He stood guard at the entrance with his rifle drawn. 

The analyst assigned to Steve was stunned to see you standing over him. He continued to gape at you. “Move!” you yelled, roughly grabbing him by the shoulder. He left his seat in a daze, and you quickly dropped into the chair vacated by him. You donned his headset, eyes scanning the screen even as you performed your other movements. 

God, it felt good to be back. It was all coming back to you via muscle memory. You were glad to know that you weren’t losing your touch. 

“Beagle, do you copy? Beagle! I need visuals,” your husband’s voice yelled over the comms, mentioning the code name of the previous operator. You could hear gunshots and explosions in the background. Typical. 

You took a deep breath to calibrate yourself to the task at hand. “Copy that, Captain, this is Desert Hawk,” you announced your call sign as per the protocol. For a moment, all you heard was static accompanied by deep breaths. You copied him, too, needing all your focus to remember that you had to separate your husband from your mission, intersected as they were. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” He exploded. You blinked.

Wow. You weren’t expecting that. You just assumed that you’ll catch him off guard mid-action and he’ll have no choice but to oblige. But he sounded furious. You gulped and squared your shoulders. 

“No time to explain. This is an emergency. Beagle is safe. I’ve taken over.”

"Abort mission, I’m gonna stop you right there, Desert Hawk. I want you to return to base immediately. IT’S AN ORDER,” He yelled. 

“With all due respect, Captain, you could use my expertise. Now I’m gonna have to overrule your direct order temporarily and comply with the sitrep demand,” you scanned the perimeter on your screen from his vantage point, looking for an opportunity to evacuate. Safe to say that you had earned your codename. You were an expert at spotting covert evac points. 

“I see a potential evac point 10 miles to your Southwest, Cap. I suggest you, Nat and Clint, I mean, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton, head over there, stat.”

“You do realize there’s a penalty for insubordination, right?” he growled in barely suppressed fury, completely ignoring the message you relayed. 

Oh boy. The situation was rapidly going south. Not good at all. 

“Roger that, Captain,” you tried your best to keep your voice from quivering. “May I repeat the message, sir?” 

“Oh, NOW you’re asking PERMISSION?” Okay. This you could not entertain. You were trying to be an analyst and not his wife, but your husband was hell-bent on quarreling as if it were your bedroom and not the battlefield. It was time to deflect. 

“Captain, do I need to remind you of the task at hand?” you stated in a raised tone before prattling off the coordinates again. 

“I heard you just fine the first time,” he grumbled, and a grenade went off too close to his earpiece. You gulped and winced. 

“Captain, PLEASE get out of there.”

“How many hostages?” He ignored you again. You sighed, cursed him, and relayed the information. And as was usual in your camaraderie with him, you gave him an additional nugget of advice. “Mr. Stark, Falcon, and War Machine will handle the evac of hostages aerially.” 

“Roger that,” he said in such a strained voice that you could picture his distended neck veins, which you saw in your arguments with him when he sounded exactly like that. “I repeat, Desert Hawk, I hope you recall the consequences of insubordination.”

“Y-yes, Captain. I do,” you gulped, knowing he was not gonna drop it till you acquiesced. 

“Damn right you do,” he growled under his breath but the comms picked it up nevertheless. Your panties grew damp at his low tone. A part of you wanted him there with you, right now, punishing you as he saw fit. 

“Captain, update your status.” You checked with him after a brief pause. 

“All clear. Sitrep update, stat,” he replied. 

“All clear for you to evac. Please relay your orders to the airborne team.”

“Copy that. I’ll see you in 10 minutes. Don’t. Move,” he said in a menacing voice, and then he turned the comms off. He actually, straight up, did that. You were so astounded that you threw your headset off. 

The rest of the time, you and the other analysts waited with bated breath. Sam and Nat were online, so you still had information pouring in. It looked like the situation was under control, much to your relief. 

Bucky was standing guard at the entrance. He straightened when your husband, Captain America himself, walked, no, practically burst in. 

(gif made by me)

The relief that you forgot to feel in the heat of the moment after hearing his voice for the first time came crashing down on you at the sight of him. He was bruised, bloody, and looking like a battle god. Fear and arousal clamored in your system, although they couldn’t overwhelm your relief. “Everyone! Leave us. Right now,” he commanded the rest of the room, without breaking eye contact with you. 

Chest heaving, you dared not utter a single word or take your eyes off him. You didn’t need to guess that he didn’t mean you by that. 

“Sergeant Barnes, you’ll transport the tech team to the base and immediately get back here.” He turned and looked at Bucky, whose eyes were shifting between you and Steve. “I’ll deal with you then,” he narrowed his eyes at his best friend. Bucky had no choice but to comply. He nodded and left, sparing one more concerned glance in your direction. 

“You’ll not punish Bucky, Steve,” you stated before your courage deserted you. “He didn’t act on his own accord.”

“QUIET!” He yelled so loudly he made you recoil in surprise. “I’m still your Captain, and you’ll address me as such. Do you understand?” 

You flinched but then nodded. “Use your words,” he stated with cold fury in his voice. 

“Y-yes, Captain.”

“As the leader of this mission, it is my responsibility to mete out punishments to insubordinate team members, and I’m dispensing it,” he said as he dropped his shield and took off his helmet. “But as your husband, I’m gonna have to be careful,” he added with a softness that betrayed his feelings. 

He turned, locked the door and windows, and then advanced on you. He marched straight into your personal space, crowding you against a table in the corner. “What were you thinking, huh? WHY did you put me in a situation like that? I was so scared when I heard your voice on comms that the shock alone would’ve killed me, had I been a lesser man. Didn’t even need bullets to take me out.” 

You had your eyes downcast, letting him have his moment. His rage was totally justified, and you knew it. But when you looked back up at him, you didn’t expect him to look pained. 

He looked so distraught that you stepped towards him and made to touch his cheek. He swatted your hand away. “What you did today cannot happen again, is that clear?” 

“On one condition.” Oh boy, you had some hubris. Even Steve narrowed his eyes at you. "You're in no position to-"

"I know." You held your palms up. "But hear me out. You'll not say a word to Bucky. Not a word. That's my condition."

Steve still stared at you. Breathing hard. But he didn't reply. 

"Please. I beg you," you choked out, tears pooling in your eyes. 

"Now that's more like it. Kneel." He said with a finality that brokered no argument. You complied, supporting your belly as you did so. 

"I'm gonna take your mouth, and I'm gonna take it hard. Tap my thigh if you can't breathe. Got it?" 

You nodded, looking up at him, eyes watery with unshed tears. Steve's cock lurched at the pretty sight that was you, on your knees at his mercy, begging. And round with his child. He felt the perverse pleasure of the moment surge through him and harden him further. 

He unzipped his pants, only letting his hard member out. The rest of him was still fully dressed. It was a first for you, too; you had never played while he was in his uniform. It was definitely doing something for you. 

You surged forward and grabbed him with both hands, but he flicked your wrists away. "Ah ah ah, you can only use your mouth. Hands behind your back." You obliged. He stroked himself once and then held his shaft up at the base so that the mushroom head was pointing straight at you. 

You wrapped your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around his sensitive head and flicking it rapidly against his frenulum. He moaned, and his knees buckled. He planted his palms on the table behind you and cursed. You slowly took more and more of him into your mouth, breathing slowly through your nose. He let you set the pace, thankfully, as you let him sink to the back of your throat. 

Fresh tears bloomed in your eyes, but these were due to the struggle of not gagging against him. He stretched your throat with his bulge, but you focused on your breathing and letting yourself adjust. Once you felt you were stable, you bobbed your neck back and forth, stimulating his length with your mouth. 

He did not touch you till you found a slow rhythm. But once you started deep-throating him vigorously, he started pumping his hips in tandem with you. He found his rhythm, going back when you came forth so that he had more room to fuck your face on the next stroke in. You moaned as he took more and more control, your eyes going glassy as you slipped into subspace. Seeing you dropping, he quickly held the sides of your face and threaded his fingers through your hair. He stilled for a moment. "Remember, you can tap out if it gets too much. Tap if you understand". He waited with bated breath till one of your hands weakly came up and tapped lightly on his thigh. Taking it as his go-ahead, he started thrusting into your mouth vigorously, using his hold on your hair to pull and push you on his cock. 

His thrusts became animalistic as drool and precum dripped down your chin and chest. He started grunting, and his thrusts became rougher, a telltale sign that he was about to come. You winced and closed your eyes, preparing to feel his hot salty cum fill your throat or splatter on your face, but he pulled out altogether. Bereft and dazed, you looked up at him to see him pull you up by your arms and manhandle you like a ragdoll on the table. 

He lay you flat on your back and stripped off your pants and panties. He turned you on one side and pushed your hips closer till you were folded in a fetal position. "You okay?" He gasped, and you tapped your own thigh, out of your mind already. "Use your words," he said sternly. 

"'m okay," you mumbled. He straightened again. "I'm gonna give you 20 spanks and then I'm gonna fuck you. You're not allowed to tap out unless you feel there's any harm to the baby. You got that?"  

"Yes, sir," you slurred, floating in your subspace. 

He propelled your body slightly forward as he landed his first hard spank on your ass. You whimpered and continued to take it on your limp body, jolting forward with every spank that landed on your cheeks. After your punishment was done, you were sure that your bottom was going to be flaming red. He placed a firm palm on your upper thigh, rolling it slightly forward so that your puffy lips were better visible to him. 

"Wet already, hmm?" He said as he tested your pussy with two fingers. "That's good enough," he grunted as he shoved himself into you and immediately set a brutal pace. A long whine of pain and pleasure left you the moment he entered you roughly. You stretched out one hand to grab the edge of the table you were on, afraid that the table might snap if its violent shaking at Steve's thrusts was any indication.

“Don’t. Ever. Do. That. To. Me. Ever. Again, got that?” Steve punched out each word in tandem with his thrusts. His balls and thighs slapped against the back of yours, and if you'd been a little more conscious, you would have squealed at his onslaught. Mad with rage as he was, you trusted him to still be in control fully and never do anything to put you in harm's way. Even in punishment, you felt safe, not feeling the need to tap out; safe in the knowledge that your husband and the father of your child was safe and back with you, punishing you because he cared for you. 

He got you cock drunk on his thrusts, and your head felt like it was full of cotton and the word 'safe' was pinging inside it. You lolled your head back and surrendered your body to your Captain. One of his fingerless glove-covered palms cupped your mound, the texture abrasive against your soft skin while his fingers teased your clit. You shuddered and made a few guttural noises as you couldn't hold it in, but you dared not cum unless he allowed you. 

"Did so well. Took the punishment like a champ. Let go honey, you can cum," he panted through the exertion of working your body over. White hot bliss filled your entire being as your toes curled, and a flutter started up in your womb and shuddered through you. It caught him, too, and he moaned as he soldiered through it until he spurted, spent and sated. He collapsed next to you, gently pulled himself out, and rolled you over to inspect you.  

You were still blissed out and limp. Steve dressed you and lifted you in his arms, cooing at you and stroking your hair and face. “Let me see your pretty eyes, lovely,” he said as he stroked your tummy next. You whined and buried your face in his chest, still not ready to let go of the warm, fuzzy headspace you were in. Steve kissed your head and kept cooing and cuddling you as he sat on the table with you in his arms, waiting for Bucky to return. 

On the Quinjet back home, you stirred and sat up. Steve was still holding you and chatting with Bucky as the latter steered the plane back home. You propped yourself up and smiled at Steve, making him look down at you. You held your breath for a beat until his lips stretched out in a fond smile. “Hey, doll, there you are. How are you feeling?” 

A surge of relief went through you at the sight of his relaxed countenance. You dropped your cheek back to his chest, the coarse fabric of his uniform abrading your skin. You smiled to yourself, “Mmmm, all good. I see things are all good here, too?” You looked up and glanced between him and Bucky in the cockpit. 

Steve raised his eyebrows at you. “Yes. You know I had to keep my word after you were so good to me. Took the punishment so well,” you preened at that, but Steve frowned, “I’ve been waiting to check with you: how’s our bubs?” 

You rubbed your tummy fondly, “All snuggly and quiet in there. Looks like he’s scared of angry Daddy,” you pouted up at him. 

Steve’s frown deepened, and he pressed his lips together. “As he should. Doll, we need to talk about this.” Your back straightened, and you gulped, knowing what was to come. 

“What you did back there was brave. Brave, but extremely stupid. How am I supposed to rest knowing you can pull shit like that again? How can I trust you not to do it again? I’ll not stop short of tying you to our bed before I leave for a mission. Or have FRIDAY bar you from leaving the compound. Thought I told you not to do anything stupid until I got back, huh? Didn’t I?"

You looked down as you played with your fingers, pouting. “Yes, you did, Steve. I was just worried. I know how you get on the field. You’re one to talk about brave and stupid. You’re reckless, too!”

“Hmmm looks like I’m gonna have to fix that mouth when we get back,” he narrowed his eyes at you with a light slap to your ass. You winced, “after I put some aloe on this ass,” he added. You said nothing, knowing it’ll only make matters worse for you if you did. Steve sighed and spoke again, “Doll, I get it. But you have to know, with our little one on the way, I want to be careful too. I want to come home to both of you. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna pull my punches or stop trying to do my duty. I’m trying to find a balance here. And you have to trust the team, we’ve got the best people, and we’ve always got each other’s backs. But I promise I’ll be careful. Can you promise me you’ll be careful too? You’ve got two lives to care about. It’s not just you anymore.”

“That’s fair, Steve,” you whispered. “I promise, too. This won’t happen again. I’ll be careful.”

“You better,” Steve warned, but he gave you a small smile and gathered you close. He kissed your forehead, “You two are my world. I’ll always protect you.”

You smiled back, cuddled him, and fell back asleep. All was right in your world, now that your Captain had briefed you about your mission (to keep baby Rogers safe).

fin   

✪ A/N2: Whew! Love protective Angry Dom Steve 🥵 I do not regret my actions.

I'd love to hear from you all about this fic! I could use feedback since I am coming back to writing after a long break.

The morning sun streaming through the curtains woke Steve up. A light sleeper himself, he wasn't bothered by that, but he arose to shut them tighter before it woke you up. 

(gif made by me)

He knew how precious your sleep was in your condition. He turned around to see you in deep sleep, cuddling your body pillow on one side while he occupied the other side until he arose. He saw you frown at the loss of his warmth and smiled softly at the adorable pout on your face. He couldn't resist kissing your brow, resting his lips there till your frown smoothed out. 

He fussed with the covers, trying to compensate for the loss of his body heat. He got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and left the bedroom to make breakfast for you. 

He knew from experience that although you loved pancakes of all kinds, your baby made you crave blueberry pancakes. He got to work on making them and started the coffee machine as well. 

His sharp ears caught the sound of your feet padding into the kitchen. He kept his back turned to you, however, hoping with a smile to himself that you’d come to him. 

And go to him you did, yawning and rubbing your eyes, sleepily seeking your husband’s warmth. You hugged his bare back, groaning when your pregnant belly got squished between you two and didn’t let you get as close to him as you wanted to be. 

“Steeb,” you whined, rubbing your nose between his shoulder blades. Steve smiled and pulled you into a half hug, slotting you up against his flank. You whined once again, wanting a bear hug. Sighing, he put his spatula down and obliged. “Why are you up, sweetie?” he asked in his gravelly morning voice. 

“Why are you?” came your reply against his chest. Steve chuckled and rocked you gently. “You know I don’t need much sleep, right?” he mumbled into the crown of your head, his hands stroking your hair and back, occasionally squeezing your lower back where he knew it hurt you a lot lately. “Mmm, yes, but you left and I was cold,” you whined again, burrowing your nose in his pillowy pecs. Steve kissed your head and whispered softly. “I’m sorry, sweetie. How’s the little bub?” 

“Still sleeping, but I bet either your voice or the smell of the pancakes will wake him,” you whispered back so as not to disturb his sleep. 

“Alright then, mama, have a seat at the table, I’ll bring you your coffee.”

“Decaf?” you checked with him. Coffee was your favorite thing in the world (Steve was a close second, although once the baby arrived, he was going to get demoted to number 3). It crushed you not to be able to partake in it due to the morning sickness, hence the decaf version. It had to do for now. 

Steve made a face that said, ‘obviously’ as he handed you the mug. The first sip breathed some life into you, and you sat up straighter, striking up a conversation with your husband about your trip to the gyno on the compound. “So… the doctor believes our baby boy will be here sooner than expected.” 

“Really?” Steve’s excited blue eyes turned on you, and you secretly prayed, not for the first time, that the baby inherits his beautiful eyes. 

You nodded. He had missed the appointment yesterday due to some work-related emergency and he was bummed about it. He was eager to hear all the details to make up for it. “Mmm-hmm. She said he’s growing faster than an average human child. So there’s a high chance I’ll be at full term before the usual nine months.” 

Steve went still. “Should we be worried?” 

You sighed, “No, Steve, it’s all under control. Apparently, he inherited your, um, serum enhancements, so…the theory is that his rapid growth is because of your rapid healing abilities. His cells grow faster or something like that.” Steve hummed, taking it all in. You perked up at your next statement. “And turns out I was right about my theory. The one about him being able to hear and smell things and respond.”

“Nah-”

“He recognised Bucky the other day.”

“That was a lucky chance-”

You two talked over each other as you bantered. Just then, you were interrupted by FRIDAY, the compound’s sentient AI. “Captain, sorry to bother you on your day off, but there are reports of a level 6 emergency..”

Like the flick of a switch, Steve's entire demeanor changed right before your eyes. Gone was the doting husband; in his place stood an Avenger. He stood protectively before you as if blocking you from any disturbing news. You didn't need to see or hear that in your state.  

"Do we have visuals?" he asked the AI. A flat projector screen descended from your ceiling, broadcasting the visuals STARK satellites might have gathered about the aforementioned incident. Steve didn't utter another word, just stood there taking it all in, his fists clenched by his sides the only indication of his rage. His voice was deceptively even when he said his next words, "Has Stark been alerted?"

"He's already on his way."

"Get the Quinjet ready,"

“Copy that, Captain. I’ll alert the others to gather in the briefing room,” Steve had already started towards your bedroom, and you guessed it was to fetch his uniform and weapons. You stood there for a moment, feeling helpless. You wanted to help him with every fiber of your being, but you knew that in your current state, you’d only slow him down and get in the way. 

But you still waddled to the hallway where you knew he had stored his holster and belt. You grabbed them and handed both to him as he left the bedroom, his uniform already donned. 

“Thanks, doll,” he breathed, and you stood on your tippy-toes trying to put the shoulder straps on him. He turned around and bent slightly so you could do it properly. Next, you helped him don the belt around his waist, and when you were done, you raised your doleful eyes at him. 

It was like the frantic energy of the room paused the moment your eyes met his. “Doll,” he sighed, “I know what you’re gonna say. I promise I’ll be careful. But I don’t have much time now. Thousands of lives are at stake.” You nodded, after all, you were well aware of what they all dealt with, thanks to your job (which you had taken a maternity sabbatical from) as a field analyst to the Avengers' core team. That’s how you had met and fallen in love with the hard-headed Captain, who was now your husband, Steve. 

You sighed and cast your gaze downward. Above your head, Steve did the same and then cupped your face with his hands. As you gazed up at him this time, your eyes were brimming with tears. Ever since you dated and later married Steve, you’ve had to see him off for countless missions, but that didn’t make the angst of separation any easier. Steve attributed it to your pregnancy hormones, but you knew better. He gave you a small smile and pressed his lips against yours in a deep yet quick kiss, stealing your breath away. “Love you,” he brushed those words against your lips while resting his forehead against yours. His body jerked as he made to pull away, but before he fully detached himself, he caressed your belly gently, “Love you too, bub. Be good for Momma, okay?” His words brought on another sob from you, but Steve had already overextended his goodbyes. With another caress to your cheeks, he parted, clipped his shield to his back, and broke out in a jog towards the briefing room.

Your feet rushed after him as if pulled by a magnet. Steve knew you would follow him to the door. “Don’t do anything stupid till I get back,” he threw over his shoulder at you as he continued sprinting. You smiled a watery smile at his retreating form, fully aware of the context. 

You stayed rooted to your spot in the doorway for an unknown amount of time, cradling your belly and lost in your thoughts. Movement from your son catapulted you into action as you decided to finish your breakfast. Going back to your cold coffee and pancakes, your mind was still reeling with worry for Steve’s safety. 

You were assigned to him after emerging as the most efficient field analyst hired by the Avengers HQ in the last year. You swiftly got promoted until you reached that stage, which your coworkers coveted as the ultimate goal. On the day of your induction, Tony had quipped that your chair was not the throne your coworkers made it seem like, but a chair of thorns, and that you’d need all the luck in the world to last even three months. His words rang true because Captain America was nearly impossible to work with. Not only was he technologically challenged, but he was also incredibly stubborn and reckless. He repeatedly ignored your inputs. He deliberately swerved left when you specifically told him over comms to go right. “Soldier’s instinct,” he would always argue. At first, his insubordination drew you up the wall, but slowly, you came to see it for what it was. It didn’t stem from arrogance as you wrongly assumed, but from his innate hardwiring to place the mission and his teammates’ safety above his own. When you took a deliberate step back from your anger, frustration, and annoyance at his actions, you saw a true leader and a selfless hero.

It went downhill from that point, where you struggled to maintain professionalism around him. Your admiration went from respect to crush to obsession to full-blown love. He was not oblivious to it, of course, and neither did he pretend to be. He went from exchanging just short of curse words with you on comms to actually listening to you on the field, from curt nods when he passed you in hallways to full-blown smiles. He insisted on your sitting in on the Avengers’ core meetings, opened doors and pulled chairs for you at those, much to everyone else’s silent amusement. Tony would loudly complain to you about the Captain’s foul moods on the rare occasions you took a day off and he had to work with a substitute. You were unofficially promoted to his personal assistant when he refused to hire another person to take care of his off-field responsibilities. “She just gets me like no one else can. We’re a team,” he had said with such a dazzling smile and shining eyes that you didn’t have the heart to turn down the huge pile of paperwork that implied. 

Everything escalated quickly when one day he was brought in from a tough mission to you chewing your nails and pacing the room. His comms had died out, and one by one, the team had started trickling in. You were guiding Sam Wilson in his aerial surveillance in looking for Captain Rogers. After 11 harrowing hours, the medic brought him in, barely conscious and severely injured. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, let alone sleep or eat, till you saw him in the flesh. Thankfully, his serum ensured that he was already healing in the Quinjet on his way over, able to prop himself up with some help. You marched in, and when you saw him, you could have either slapped him or kissed him, but instead, you let all hell loose and yelled at him as if he were a 5-year-old. Steve listened patiently to you ranting and losing your mind until you were close to ripping your hair out, at which point he pushed himself up into a sitting position using all his remaining strength, grabbed you, and kissed you soundly on the lips. “I knew it,” he had said, “I knew I was more than a job to you,” he had smirked after you reciprocated his kiss, and then promptly blushed and hid in his chest. “That means you’re gonna lose your best partner on the job,” you had mumbled, knowing the implications. “Never mind,” he had said as he dropped back down on his stretcher, “I’m gaining my best girl for life, hopefully.” You remembered his smile as he was carted away into the medbay. 

Cut to the present moment, you sighed as you bit into your cold breakfast, running a hand on your belly. “I wish you could read my mind, bubs,” you spoke to your son in your belly. “I just finished thinking about how I met your father.” It made sense to you now, why your goodbyes never became easier for you. With you stepping down as his assigned analyst (You insisted to Tony, citing ‘lack of objectivity’ when Steve flirted with you on missions more than once. You had to remind him, much to your chagrin, that your conversations weren’t exactly private). You had relinquished control of how he maneuvered himself on the field. You could no longer see him in action on the screen, sort of watching over him and ensuring his six was always covered. It was calming to your nerves to have that semblance of reassurance, but with that gone, you were just as helpless as any other military wife. 

But you weren’t complaining. The moment you and Steve began dating, you became an unofficial member of the Avengers. It felt odd at first, no longer being starstruck by the rest of them or squirming when they asked you to drop the honorifics and not act so professional around them. The boys all treated you like a delicate doll, seeing as you were not enhanced in any way. Some nights, you lay in bed pinching yourself, not able to believe that you had just returned from a pajama movie night with Wanda, Nat, and Pepper. Unreal.

As you reminisced about your relationship with Steve leading up to this moment, your child kicked you. “I know, bubs, do you miss Daddy already? I know I do,” you sighed. “It’s just…something about this mission doesn’t seem right to me,” you frowned, feeling unsettled. “Call it an analyst’s instinct but….I’ve got a bad gut feeling about this,” you muttered to yourself. “Oh, who am I kidding, no offense, bubs, but you’re just a smol bean, talking to you is not gonna help me, I need to talk to one of your uncles. Or aunties. Let’s go,” you made up your mind, pushed yourself out of your chair, and dumped the remaining cold coffee in the sink. 

You marched, no, waddled out, determined to find the first person on the staff to get in on this mission. Lady Luck must be shining on you because you crossed paths with none other than Bucky Barnes. 

“Hey, doll, where’s the fire?” he gave you his roguish half smile. 

“Bucky,” you breathed with relief. There was truly no better person to understand your predicament than your husband’s best friend. But wait a minute-

“Why aren’t you on the mission?” The uneasiness in your gut grew because this implied one less protector on the team. You knew very well that Bucky always had Steve’s back. Always.

“Well,” Bucky looked down at his prosthetic arm wistfully, “I busted the circuits in this thing on the last mission; it needs to be reprogrammed. So I’m benched.” 

Your frown deepened, and Bucky noticed that. “What’s up, doll?” he queried with his own frown. You decided to confide in him. “I have a gut feeling about this mission, Bucky. I need to know how it’s going.” 

Bucky looked at your face and your belly for a second before he replied. “You sure it’s not the little punk in there? Hi pal, it’s your uncle Bucky,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Bucky,” you sighed. “I’m sure it’s not. I just…can’t rest easy unless I know what’s going on.”

Bucky’s frown returned for a split second as he realized you were in no mood to joke. He smiled reassuringly, though, in the very next minute. “That’s easy, doll, and I’m surprised it didn’t strike you sooner,” he said as he started leading you away with him. You looked at him, puzzled. “The analyst’s bay, of course. You can ask your old pals on the staff about the updates, I’m sure they’ll be happy to provide them to you.” 

Bucky’s solution sounded good enough, although strangely it did nothing to settle your nerves. Nevertheless, you followed him, knowing that doing something rather than sitting on your hands will definitely ease your mind.

You reached the analytics bay and were surprised to see that it wasn’t buzzing with activity as you expected. Some of your ex-colleagues smiled at you from their desks, but nobody seemed to be in a rush or frantically giving remote guidance to the team. You saw Maria walking down one of the aisles, and you immediately stopped her. “Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I uh- wanted updates on the latest mission.” Maria cocked her head at you, her eyes softening. She measured her next words carefully before speaking, “I’m sorry, it’s a covert mission, and seeing as you’re no longer an analyst, you don’t have clearance to receive that information.” Knowing your hard-ass husband, you had anticipated this, sort of. But you weren’t about to give up. “Well, I don’t think I need clearance to know why the analysts aren’t working on the mission right now,” you gestured to the unhurried staff working around you. 

Maria sighed, knowing you could be as stubborn as your husband. “Look, I’m not saying this as the Chief of Ground Staff, but as your friend. Some analysts have traveled with the team on the Quinjet. They’ll be doing close surveillance as opposed to remote guidance. Captain’s orders,” She looked you square in the eye as she said it, hoping for it to be the final word on the matter. 

All the air left your lungs in a whoosh. Damn Steve. Trust him to hide important things from you. What was he thinking?

“I know what you’re thinking, doll,” Bucky broke you out of your reverie with a hand on your shoulder. “But can you blame him? If I had such precious cargo on the way,” he looked at your belly with eyes full of emotion, “I would do everything I could to make light of the situation. I would shield you from everything in the world if I could.”

“But that’s not how our partnership works, Bucky. It never has and it never will. And Steve knows that very well.” You said as you stomped out of the bay, one hand placed protectively on your bump. “Whatever he thought he was doing, he has succeeded in achieving the opposite. I’m even more worried than I was before. What started as a gut feeling is now a confirmation that things are bad.”

“Wait, where are you going, doll?” Bucky strode after you, trying to keep up with you. As if on autopilot, your feet were speed walking you over to the hangar. 

“Going to assist my husband on his mission, what does it look like?” You yelled at him over your shoulder. Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm. You winced as soon as you said it. You knew you could never outrun the Winter Soldier, your present condition notwithstanding. He was going to do everything in his power to stop you. You had to get him on your team. There was no other way.

“Doll,” Bucky cut through your path and held your arm. “What do you think you’re doing? In your condition? If Steve finds out you left the compound, and that too on my watch, he’ll kill me.”

“Bucky! I’m sorry, but I have to go. I would rather risk that than-” your bottom lip wobbled, “than Steve not c-c-oming home.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, doll, nothing’s gonna happen to him. This is not his first rodeo, alright? He knows what he’s doing, plus he’s not alone. In fact,” Bucky chuckled, going for humor again, “he once jumped out of a plane without his parachute and landed without a scratch on him.” Your mouth dropped open in horror, and Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm as he realized it was the wrong thing to say, “NOT HELPING BUCKY,” you yelled and started walking towards the hangar again.

“Doll, please don’t do this. You don’t have to. Everything’s under control. Do you see other spouses running to the hangar like this? This is reckless and stupid.”

You paused in your tracks and turned around to face him. “Bucky. If you bring my pregnancy hormones into this one more time, I swear to God,” you didn’t know what to threaten him with, but you hoped your voice carried enough menace in it. “I am not a concerned spouse. I was the best analyst on duty. I want to offer my services. Can’t you see? Analysts traveling with the team is completely unorthodox. This is more serious than they’re letting on. The team needs me. Now you have two choices. Help me and face Steve’s wrath, or do nothing and regret. Your choice. I’m going anyway; the least you can do is not try to stop me. Apart from that, you decide, and decide quickly. Time is slipping away.”

Bucky gulped and cursed to himself, shaking his head and following you. “I’m gonna kick my own ass before Steve does if this goes south.” 

You smiled and paced towards the Quinjet that was on standby. “Don’t do that just yet. I’m gonna need you to fly this thing.”

Bucky used his ID to unlock the jet and get into the cockpit. He fired up the engine, and immediately the plane was filled with FRIDAY’s disembodied voice. “Authorization request. State your name and mission.” 

“Sergeant James Barnes, codename Winter Soldier.”

“ID confirmed. Clearance granted. State your mission.”

“Uh, FRIDAY, I want you to pull up the recent mission logs,” Bucky racked his brain and spoke aloud a cryptic serial number. 

“Noted. The logs do not mention you being assigned to the mission, Sergeant. I’m sorry I can’t share the real-time status updates with you.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment before responding. “I have Core Team Clearance. Please overrule the lock FRIDAY.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ll have to obtain clearance from Mr. Stark for this. Contacting him right now.”

Oh no. This can’t be good. Before Bucky could open his mouth, you interjected. “FRIDAY, this is Y/N Rogers. We have intel that the team is going to need reinforcements. WE are the reinforcements. There’s no need to contact Tony and interrupt him on his mission.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll need to ID you.” Sighing, you spoke your credentials out loud. 

“Confirmed. My records confirm that you have Core Team Clearance, too. The rulebook allows me to override the need for further clearance.” The screen popped up with the coordinates of the team’s location. “Good luck, Sergeant, Mrs. Rogers.” 

Bucky fired up the engine, and the plane was ready for takeoff. “Uh, FRIDAY, one last thing, please relay this communication to base: DO NOT alert the field ops about our presence. The reinforcement is classified because we don’t want the hostiles to know. Do you copy?” Bucky ordered the AI. 

“I copy that, Sergeant,” and with that, you were off the tarmac and airborne. 

You fought the nausea that was imminent for a pregnant lady on a plane. It wasn’t as difficult as you suspected, seeing as you were a woman on a mission after all. 

About a couple of hours later, you were close to the site of the mission. Bucky turned on the reflectors so you could go undetected by the enemy. He landed as close as possible to the temporary base set up for the analysts at a distance from the location of the skirmish. The two of you were alarmed to see the signs of destruction already. There was a lot of debris, collapsed buildings, and totaled cars that you were making your way through. Once you reached the base, you ran inside and grabbed one of the analysts by the shoulders. “Which one of you is running ops for the Captain?” Startled, they pointed towards the right person, and you immediately darted over there. Some of them began protesting in murmurs, which were silenced by Bucky. He stood guard at the entrance with his rifle drawn. 

The analyst assigned to Steve was stunned to see you standing over him. He continued to gape at you. “Move!” you yelled, roughly grabbing him by the shoulder. He left his seat in a daze, and you quickly dropped into the chair vacated by him. You donned his headset, eyes scanning the screen even as you performed your other movements. 

God, it felt good to be back. It was all coming back to you via muscle memory. You were glad to know that you weren’t losing your touch. 

“Beagle, do you copy? Beagle! I need visuals,” your husband’s voice yelled over the comms, mentioning the code name of the previous operator. You could hear gunshots and explosions in the background. Typical. 

You took a deep breath to calibrate yourself to the task at hand. “Copy that, Captain, this is Desert Hawk,” you announced your call sign as per the protocol. For a moment, all you heard was static accompanied by deep breaths. You copied him, too, needing all your focus to remember that you had to separate your husband from your mission, intersected as they were. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” He exploded. You blinked.

Wow. You weren’t expecting that. You just assumed that you’ll catch him off guard mid-action and he’ll have no choice but to oblige. But he sounded furious. You gulped and squared your shoulders. 

“No time to explain. This is an emergency. Beagle is safe. I’ve taken over.”

"Abort mission, I’m gonna stop you right there, Desert Hawk. I want you to return to base immediately. IT’S AN ORDER,” He yelled. 

“With all due respect, Captain, you could use my expertise. Now I’m gonna have to overrule your direct order temporarily and comply with the sitrep demand,” you scanned the perimeter on your screen from his vantage point, looking for an opportunity to evacuate. Safe to say that you had earned your codename. You were an expert at spotting covert evac points. 

“I see a potential evac point 10 miles to your Southwest, Cap. I suggest you, Nat and Clint, I mean, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton, head over there, stat.”

“You do realize there’s a penalty for insubordination, right?” he growled in barely suppressed fury, completely ignoring the message you relayed. 

Oh boy. The situation was rapidly going south. Not good at all. 

“Roger that, Captain,” you tried your best to keep your voice from quivering. “May I repeat the message, sir?” 

“Oh, NOW you’re asking PERMISSION?” Okay. This you could not entertain. You were trying to be an analyst and not his wife, but your husband was hell-bent on quarreling as if it were your bedroom and not the battlefield. It was time to deflect. 

“Captain, do I need to remind you of the task at hand?” you stated in a raised tone before prattling off the coordinates again. 

“I heard you just fine the first time,” he grumbled, and a grenade went off too close to his earpiece. You gulped and winced. 

“Captain, PLEASE get out of there.”

“How many hostages?” He ignored you again. You sighed, cursed him, and relayed the information. And as was usual in your camaraderie with him, you gave him an additional nugget of advice. “Mr. Stark, Falcon, and War Machine will handle the evac of hostages aerially.” 

“Roger that,” he said in such a strained voice that you could picture his distended neck veins, which you saw in your arguments with him when he sounded exactly like that. “I repeat, Desert Hawk, I hope you recall the consequences of insubordination.”

“Y-yes, Captain. I do,” you gulped, knowing he was not gonna drop it till you acquiesced. 

“Damn right you do,” he growled under his breath but the comms picked it up nevertheless. Your panties grew damp at his low tone. A part of you wanted him there with you, right now, punishing you as he saw fit. 

“Captain, update your status.” You checked with him after a brief pause. 

“All clear. Sitrep update, stat,” he replied. 

“All clear for you to evac. Please relay your orders to the airborne team.”

“Copy that. I’ll see you in 10 minutes. Don’t. Move,” he said in a menacing voice, and then he turned the comms off. He actually, straight up, did that. You were so astounded that you threw your headset off. 

The rest of the time, you and the other analysts waited with bated breath. Sam and Nat were online, so you still had information pouring in. It looked like the situation was under control, much to your relief. 

Bucky was standing guard at the entrance. He straightened when your husband, Captain America himself, walked, no, practically burst in. 

(gif made by me)

The relief that you forgot to feel in the heat of the moment after hearing his voice for the first time came crashing down on you at the sight of him. He was bruised, bloody, and looking like a battle god. Fear and arousal clamored in your system, although they couldn’t overwhelm your relief. “Everyone! Leave us. Right now,” he commanded the rest of the room, without breaking eye contact with you. 

Chest heaving, you dared not utter a single word or take your eyes off him. You didn’t need to guess that he didn’t mean you by that. 

“Sergeant Barnes, you’ll transport the tech team to the base and immediately get back here.” He turned and looked at Bucky, whose eyes were shifting between you and Steve. “I’ll deal with you then,” he narrowed his eyes at his best friend. Bucky had no choice but to comply. He nodded and left, sparing one more concerned glance in your direction. 

“You’ll not punish Bucky, Steve,” you stated before your courage deserted you. “He didn’t act on his own accord.”

“QUIET!” He yelled so loudly he made you recoil in surprise. “I’m still your Captain, and you’ll address me as such. Do you understand?” 

You flinched but then nodded. “Use your words,” he stated with cold fury in his voice. 

“Y-yes, Captain.”

“As the leader of this mission, it is my responsibility to mete out punishments to insubordinate team members, and I’m dispensing it,” he said as he dropped his shield and took off his helmet. “But as your husband, I’m gonna have to be careful,” he added with a softness that betrayed his feelings. 

He turned, locked the door and windows, and then advanced on you. He marched straight into your personal space, crowding you against a table in the corner. “What were you thinking, huh? WHY did you put me in a situation like that? I was so scared when I heard your voice on comms that the shock alone would’ve killed me, had I been a lesser man. Didn’t even need bullets to take me out.” 

You had your eyes downcast, letting him have his moment. His rage was totally justified, and you knew it. But when you looked back up at him, you didn’t expect him to look pained. 

He looked so distraught that you stepped towards him and made to touch his cheek. He swatted your hand away. “What you did today cannot happen again, is that clear?” 

“On one condition.” Oh boy, you had some hubris. Even Steve narrowed his eyes at you. "You're in no position to-"

"I know." You held your palms up. "But hear me out. You'll not say a word to Bucky. Not a word. That's my condition."

Steve still stared at you. Breathing hard. But he didn't reply. 

"Please. I beg you," you choked out, tears pooling in your eyes. 

"Now that's more like it. Kneel." He said with a finality that brokered no argument. You complied, supporting your belly as you did so. 

"I'm gonna take your mouth, and I'm gonna take it hard. Tap my thigh if you can't breathe. Got it?" 

You nodded, looking up at him, eyes watery with unshed tears. Steve's cock lurched at the pretty sight that was you, on your knees at his mercy, begging. And round with his child. He felt the perverse pleasure of the moment surge through him and harden him further. 

He unzipped his pants, only letting his hard member out. The rest of him was still fully dressed. It was a first for you, too; you had never played while he was in his uniform. It was definitely doing something for you. 

You surged forward and grabbed him with both hands, but he flicked your wrists away. "Ah ah ah, you can only use your mouth. Hands behind your back." You obliged. He stroked himself once and then held his shaft up at the base so that the mushroom head was pointing straight at you. 

You wrapped your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around his sensitive head and flicking it rapidly against his frenulum. He moaned, and his knees buckled. He planted his palms on the table behind you and cursed. You slowly took more and more of him into your mouth, breathing slowly through your nose. He let you set the pace, thankfully, as you let him sink to the back of your throat. 

Fresh tears bloomed in your eyes, but these were due to the struggle of not gagging against him. He stretched your throat with his bulge, but you focused on your breathing and letting yourself adjust. Once you felt you were stable, you bobbed your neck back and forth, stimulating his length with your mouth. 

He did not touch you till you found a slow rhythm. But once you started deep-throating him vigorously, he started pumping his hips in tandem with you. He found his rhythm, going back when you came forth so that he had more room to fuck your face on the next stroke in. You moaned as he took more and more control, your eyes going glassy as you slipped into subspace. Seeing you dropping, he quickly held the sides of your face and threaded his fingers through your hair. He stilled for a moment. "Remember, you can tap out if it gets too much. Tap if you understand". He waited with bated breath till one of your hands weakly came up and tapped lightly on his thigh. Taking it as his go-ahead, he started thrusting into your mouth vigorously, using his hold on your hair to pull and push you on his cock. 

His thrusts became animalistic as drool and precum dripped down your chin and chest. He started grunting, and his thrusts became rougher, a telltale sign that he was about to come. You winced and closed your eyes, preparing to feel his hot salty cum fill your throat or splatter on your face, but he pulled out altogether. Bereft and dazed, you looked up at him to see him pull you up by your arms and manhandle you like a ragdoll on the table. 

He lay you flat on your back and stripped off your pants and panties. He turned you on one side and pushed your hips closer till you were folded in a fetal position. "You okay?" He gasped, and you tapped your own thigh, out of your mind already. "Use your words," he said sternly. 

"'m okay," you mumbled. He straightened again. "I'm gonna give you 20 spanks and then I'm gonna fuck you. You're not allowed to tap out unless you feel there's any harm to the baby. You got that?"  

"Yes, sir," you slurred, floating in your subspace. 

He propelled your body slightly forward as he landed his first hard spank on your ass. You whimpered and continued to take it on your limp body, jolting forward with every spank that landed on your cheeks. After your punishment was done, you were sure that your bottom was going to be flaming red. He placed a firm palm on your upper thigh, rolling it slightly forward so that your puffy lips were better visible to him. 

"Wet already, hmm?" He said as he tested your pussy with two fingers. "That's good enough," he grunted as he shoved himself into you and immediately set a brutal pace. A long whine of pain and pleasure left you the moment he entered you roughly. You stretched out one hand to grab the edge of the table you were on, afraid that the table might snap if its violent shaking at Steve's thrusts was any indication.

“Don’t. Ever. Do. That. To. Me. Ever. Again, got that?” Steve punched out each word in tandem with his thrusts. His balls and thighs slapped against the back of yours, and if you'd been a little more conscious, you would have squealed at his onslaught. Mad with rage as he was, you trusted him to still be in control fully and never do anything to put you in harm's way. Even in punishment, you felt safe, not feeling the need to tap out; safe in the knowledge that your husband and the father of your child was safe and back with you, punishing you because he cared for you. 

He got you cock drunk on his thrusts, and your head felt like it was full of cotton and the word 'safe' was pinging inside it. You lolled your head back and surrendered your body to your Captain. One of his fingerless glove-covered palms cupped your mound, the texture abrasive against your soft skin while his fingers teased your clit. You shuddered and made a few guttural noises as you couldn't hold it in, but you dared not cum unless he allowed you. 

"Did so well. Took the punishment like a champ. Let go honey, you can cum," he panted through the exertion of working your body over. White hot bliss filled your entire being as your toes curled, and a flutter started up in your womb and shuddered through you. It caught him, too, and he moaned as he soldiered through it until he spurted, spent and sated. He collapsed next to you, gently pulled himself out, and rolled you over to inspect you.  

You were still blissed out and limp. Steve dressed you and lifted you in his arms, cooing at you and stroking your hair and face. “Let me see your pretty eyes, lovely,” he said as he stroked your tummy next. You whined and buried your face in his chest, still not ready to let go of the warm, fuzzy headspace you were in. Steve kissed your head and kept cooing and cuddling you as he sat on the table with you in his arms, waiting for Bucky to return. 

On the Quinjet back home, you stirred and sat up. Steve was still holding you and chatting with Bucky as the latter steered the plane back home. You propped yourself up and smiled at Steve, making him look down at you. You held your breath for a beat until his lips stretched out in a fond smile. “Hey, doll, there you are. How are you feeling?” 

A surge of relief went through you at the sight of his relaxed countenance. You dropped your cheek back to his chest, the coarse fabric of his uniform abrading your skin. You smiled to yourself, “Mmmm, all good. I see things are all good here, too?” You looked up and glanced between him and Bucky in the cockpit. 

Steve raised his eyebrows at you. “Yes. You know I had to keep my word after you were so good to me. Took the punishment so well,” you preened at that, but Steve frowned, “I’ve been waiting to check with you: how’s our bubs?” 

You rubbed your tummy fondly, “All snuggly and quiet in there. Looks like he’s scared of angry Daddy,” you pouted up at him. 

Steve’s frown deepened, and he pressed his lips together. “As he should. Doll, we need to talk about this.” Your back straightened, and you gulped, knowing what was to come. 

“What you did back there was brave. Brave, but extremely stupid. How am I supposed to rest knowing you can pull shit like that again? How can I trust you not to do it again? I’ll not stop short of tying you to our bed before I leave for a mission. Or have FRIDAY bar you from leaving the compound. Thought I told you not to do anything stupid until I got back, huh? Didn’t I?"

You looked down as you played with your fingers, pouting. “Yes, you did, Steve. I was just worried. I know how you get on the field. You’re one to talk about brave and stupid. You’re reckless, too!”

“Hmmm looks like I’m gonna have to fix that mouth when we get back,” he narrowed his eyes at you with a light slap to your ass. You winced, “after I put some aloe on this ass,” he added. You said nothing, knowing it’ll only make matters worse for you if you did. Steve sighed and spoke again, “Doll, I get it. But you have to know, with our little one on the way, I want to be careful too. I want to come home to both of you. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna pull my punches or stop trying to do my duty. I’m trying to find a balance here. And you have to trust the team, we’ve got the best people, and we’ve always got each other’s backs. But I promise I’ll be careful. Can you promise me you’ll be careful too? You’ve got two lives to care about. It’s not just you anymore.”

“That’s fair, Steve,” you whispered. “I promise, too. This won’t happen again. I’ll be careful.”

“You better,” Steve warned, but he gave you a small smile and gathered you close. He kissed your forehead, “You two are my world. I’ll always protect you.”

You smiled back, cuddled him, and fell back asleep. All was right in your world, now that your Captain had briefed you about your mission (to keep baby Rogers safe).

fin   

✪ A/N2: Whew! Love protective Angry Dom Steve 🥵 I do not regret my actions.

I'd love to hear from you all about this fic! I could use feedback since I am coming back to writing after a long break.

The morning sun streaming through the curtains woke Steve up. A light sleeper himself, he wasn't bothered by that, but he arose to shut them tighter before it woke you up. 

(gif made by me)

He knew how precious your sleep was in your condition. He turned around to see you in deep sleep, cuddling your body pillow on one side while he occupied the other side until he arose. He saw you frown at the loss of his warmth and smiled softly at the adorable pout on your face. He couldn't resist kissing your brow, resting his lips there till your frown smoothed out. 

He fussed with the covers, trying to compensate for the loss of his body heat. He got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and left the bedroom to make breakfast for you. 

He knew from experience that although you loved pancakes of all kinds, your baby made you crave blueberry pancakes. He got to work on making them and started the coffee machine as well. 

His sharp ears caught the sound of your feet padding into the kitchen. He kept his back turned to you, however, hoping with a smile to himself that you’d come to him. 

And go to him you did, yawning and rubbing your eyes, sleepily seeking your husband’s warmth. You hugged his bare back, groaning when your pregnant belly got squished between you two and didn’t let you get as close to him as you wanted to be. 

“Steeb,” you whined, rubbing your nose between his shoulder blades. Steve smiled and pulled you into a half hug, slotting you up against his flank. You whined once again, wanting a bear hug. Sighing, he put his spatula down and obliged. “Why are you up, sweetie?” he asked in his gravelly morning voice. 

“Why are you?” came your reply against his chest. Steve chuckled and rocked you gently. “You know I don’t need much sleep, right?” he mumbled into the crown of your head, his hands stroking your hair and back, occasionally squeezing your lower back where he knew it hurt you a lot lately. “Mmm, yes, but you left and I was cold,” you whined again, burrowing your nose in his pillowy pecs. Steve kissed your head and whispered softly. “I’m sorry, sweetie. How’s the little bub?” 

“Still sleeping, but I bet either your voice or the smell of the pancakes will wake him,” you whispered back so as not to disturb his sleep. 

“Alright then, mama, have a seat at the table, I’ll bring you your coffee.”

“Decaf?” you checked with him. Coffee was your favorite thing in the world (Steve was a close second, although once the baby arrived, he was going to get demoted to number 3). It crushed you not to be able to partake in it due to the morning sickness, hence the decaf version. It had to do for now. 

Steve made a face that said, ‘obviously’ as he handed you the mug. The first sip breathed some life into you, and you sat up straighter, striking up a conversation with your husband about your trip to the gyno on the compound. “So… the doctor believes our baby boy will be here sooner than expected.” 

“Really?” Steve’s excited blue eyes turned on you, and you secretly prayed, not for the first time, that the baby inherits his beautiful eyes. 

You nodded. He had missed the appointment yesterday due to some work-related emergency and he was bummed about it. He was eager to hear all the details to make up for it. “Mmm-hmm. She said he’s growing faster than an average human child. So there’s a high chance I’ll be at full term before the usual nine months.” 

Steve went still. “Should we be worried?” 

You sighed, “No, Steve, it’s all under control. Apparently, he inherited your, um, serum enhancements, so…the theory is that his rapid growth is because of your rapid healing abilities. His cells grow faster or something like that.” Steve hummed, taking it all in. You perked up at your next statement. “And turns out I was right about my theory. The one about him being able to hear and smell things and respond.”

“Nah-”

“He recognised Bucky the other day.”

“That was a lucky chance-”

You two talked over each other as you bantered. Just then, you were interrupted by FRIDAY, the compound’s sentient AI. “Captain, sorry to bother you on your day off, but there are reports of a level 6 emergency..”

Like the flick of a switch, Steve's entire demeanor changed right before your eyes. Gone was the doting husband; in his place stood an Avenger. He stood protectively before you as if blocking you from any disturbing news. You didn't need to see or hear that in your state.  

"Do we have visuals?" he asked the AI. A flat projector screen descended from your ceiling, broadcasting the visuals STARK satellites might have gathered about the aforementioned incident. Steve didn't utter another word, just stood there taking it all in, his fists clenched by his sides the only indication of his rage. His voice was deceptively even when he said his next words, "Has Stark been alerted?"

"He's already on his way."

"Get the Quinjet ready,"

“Copy that, Captain. I’ll alert the others to gather in the briefing room,” Steve had already started towards your bedroom, and you guessed it was to fetch his uniform and weapons. You stood there for a moment, feeling helpless. You wanted to help him with every fiber of your being, but you knew that in your current state, you’d only slow him down and get in the way. 

But you still waddled to the hallway where you knew he had stored his holster and belt. You grabbed them and handed both to him as he left the bedroom, his uniform already donned. 

“Thanks, doll,” he breathed, and you stood on your tippy-toes trying to put the shoulder straps on him. He turned around and bent slightly so you could do it properly. Next, you helped him don the belt around his waist, and when you were done, you raised your doleful eyes at him. 

It was like the frantic energy of the room paused the moment your eyes met his. “Doll,” he sighed, “I know what you’re gonna say. I promise I’ll be careful. But I don’t have much time now. Thousands of lives are at stake.” You nodded, after all, you were well aware of what they all dealt with, thanks to your job (which you had taken a maternity sabbatical from) as a field analyst to the Avengers' core team. That’s how you had met and fallen in love with the hard-headed Captain, who was now your husband, Steve. 

You sighed and cast your gaze downward. Above your head, Steve did the same and then cupped your face with his hands. As you gazed up at him this time, your eyes were brimming with tears. Ever since you dated and later married Steve, you’ve had to see him off for countless missions, but that didn’t make the angst of separation any easier. Steve attributed it to your pregnancy hormones, but you knew better. He gave you a small smile and pressed his lips against yours in a deep yet quick kiss, stealing your breath away. “Love you,” he brushed those words against your lips while resting his forehead against yours. His body jerked as he made to pull away, but before he fully detached himself, he caressed your belly gently, “Love you too, bub. Be good for Momma, okay?” His words brought on another sob from you, but Steve had already overextended his goodbyes. With another caress to your cheeks, he parted, clipped his shield to his back, and broke out in a jog towards the briefing room.

Your feet rushed after him as if pulled by a magnet. Steve knew you would follow him to the door. “Don’t do anything stupid till I get back,” he threw over his shoulder at you as he continued sprinting. You smiled a watery smile at his retreating form, fully aware of the context. 

You stayed rooted to your spot in the doorway for an unknown amount of time, cradling your belly and lost in your thoughts. Movement from your son catapulted you into action as you decided to finish your breakfast. Going back to your cold coffee and pancakes, your mind was still reeling with worry for Steve’s safety. 

You were assigned to him after emerging as the most efficient field analyst hired by the Avengers HQ in the last year. You swiftly got promoted until you reached that stage, which your coworkers coveted as the ultimate goal. On the day of your induction, Tony had quipped that your chair was not the throne your coworkers made it seem like, but a chair of thorns, and that you’d need all the luck in the world to last even three months. His words rang true because Captain America was nearly impossible to work with. Not only was he technologically challenged, but he was also incredibly stubborn and reckless. He repeatedly ignored your inputs. He deliberately swerved left when you specifically told him over comms to go right. “Soldier’s instinct,” he would always argue. At first, his insubordination drew you up the wall, but slowly, you came to see it for what it was. It didn’t stem from arrogance as you wrongly assumed, but from his innate hardwiring to place the mission and his teammates’ safety above his own. When you took a deliberate step back from your anger, frustration, and annoyance at his actions, you saw a true leader and a selfless hero.

It went downhill from that point, where you struggled to maintain professionalism around him. Your admiration went from respect to crush to obsession to full-blown love. He was not oblivious to it, of course, and neither did he pretend to be. He went from exchanging just short of curse words with you on comms to actually listening to you on the field, from curt nods when he passed you in hallways to full-blown smiles. He insisted on your sitting in on the Avengers’ core meetings, opened doors and pulled chairs for you at those, much to everyone else’s silent amusement. Tony would loudly complain to you about the Captain’s foul moods on the rare occasions you took a day off and he had to work with a substitute. You were unofficially promoted to his personal assistant when he refused to hire another person to take care of his off-field responsibilities. “She just gets me like no one else can. We’re a team,” he had said with such a dazzling smile and shining eyes that you didn’t have the heart to turn down the huge pile of paperwork that implied. 

Everything escalated quickly when one day he was brought in from a tough mission to you chewing your nails and pacing the room. His comms had died out, and one by one, the team had started trickling in. You were guiding Sam Wilson in his aerial surveillance in looking for Captain Rogers. After 11 harrowing hours, the medic brought him in, barely conscious and severely injured. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, let alone sleep or eat, till you saw him in the flesh. Thankfully, his serum ensured that he was already healing in the Quinjet on his way over, able to prop himself up with some help. You marched in, and when you saw him, you could have either slapped him or kissed him, but instead, you let all hell loose and yelled at him as if he were a 5-year-old. Steve listened patiently to you ranting and losing your mind until you were close to ripping your hair out, at which point he pushed himself up into a sitting position using all his remaining strength, grabbed you, and kissed you soundly on the lips. “I knew it,” he had said, “I knew I was more than a job to you,” he had smirked after you reciprocated his kiss, and then promptly blushed and hid in his chest. “That means you’re gonna lose your best partner on the job,” you had mumbled, knowing the implications. “Never mind,” he had said as he dropped back down on his stretcher, “I’m gaining my best girl for life, hopefully.” You remembered his smile as he was carted away into the medbay. 

Cut to the present moment, you sighed as you bit into your cold breakfast, running a hand on your belly. “I wish you could read my mind, bubs,” you spoke to your son in your belly. “I just finished thinking about how I met your father.” It made sense to you now, why your goodbyes never became easier for you. With you stepping down as his assigned analyst (You insisted to Tony, citing ‘lack of objectivity’ when Steve flirted with you on missions more than once. You had to remind him, much to your chagrin, that your conversations weren’t exactly private). You had relinquished control of how he maneuvered himself on the field. You could no longer see him in action on the screen, sort of watching over him and ensuring his six was always covered. It was calming to your nerves to have that semblance of reassurance, but with that gone, you were just as helpless as any other military wife. 

But you weren’t complaining. The moment you and Steve began dating, you became an unofficial member of the Avengers. It felt odd at first, no longer being starstruck by the rest of them or squirming when they asked you to drop the honorifics and not act so professional around them. The boys all treated you like a delicate doll, seeing as you were not enhanced in any way. Some nights, you lay in bed pinching yourself, not able to believe that you had just returned from a pajama movie night with Wanda, Nat, and Pepper. Unreal.

As you reminisced about your relationship with Steve leading up to this moment, your child kicked you. “I know, bubs, do you miss Daddy already? I know I do,” you sighed. “It’s just…something about this mission doesn’t seem right to me,” you frowned, feeling unsettled. “Call it an analyst’s instinct but….I’ve got a bad gut feeling about this,” you muttered to yourself. “Oh, who am I kidding, no offense, bubs, but you’re just a smol bean, talking to you is not gonna help me, I need to talk to one of your uncles. Or aunties. Let’s go,” you made up your mind, pushed yourself out of your chair, and dumped the remaining cold coffee in the sink. 

You marched, no, waddled out, determined to find the first person on the staff to get in on this mission. Lady Luck must be shining on you because you crossed paths with none other than Bucky Barnes. 

“Hey, doll, where’s the fire?” he gave you his roguish half smile. 

“Bucky,” you breathed with relief. There was truly no better person to understand your predicament than your husband’s best friend. But wait a minute-

“Why aren’t you on the mission?” The uneasiness in your gut grew because this implied one less protector on the team. You knew very well that Bucky always had Steve’s back. Always.

“Well,” Bucky looked down at his prosthetic arm wistfully, “I busted the circuits in this thing on the last mission; it needs to be reprogrammed. So I’m benched.” 

Your frown deepened, and Bucky noticed that. “What’s up, doll?” he queried with his own frown. You decided to confide in him. “I have a gut feeling about this mission, Bucky. I need to know how it’s going.” 

Bucky looked at your face and your belly for a second before he replied. “You sure it’s not the little punk in there? Hi pal, it’s your uncle Bucky,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Bucky,” you sighed. “I’m sure it’s not. I just…can’t rest easy unless I know what’s going on.”

Bucky’s frown returned for a split second as he realized you were in no mood to joke. He smiled reassuringly, though, in the very next minute. “That’s easy, doll, and I’m surprised it didn’t strike you sooner,” he said as he started leading you away with him. You looked at him, puzzled. “The analyst’s bay, of course. You can ask your old pals on the staff about the updates, I’m sure they’ll be happy to provide them to you.” 

Bucky’s solution sounded good enough, although strangely it did nothing to settle your nerves. Nevertheless, you followed him, knowing that doing something rather than sitting on your hands will definitely ease your mind.

You reached the analytics bay and were surprised to see that it wasn’t buzzing with activity as you expected. Some of your ex-colleagues smiled at you from their desks, but nobody seemed to be in a rush or frantically giving remote guidance to the team. You saw Maria walking down one of the aisles, and you immediately stopped her. “Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I uh- wanted updates on the latest mission.” Maria cocked her head at you, her eyes softening. She measured her next words carefully before speaking, “I’m sorry, it’s a covert mission, and seeing as you’re no longer an analyst, you don’t have clearance to receive that information.” Knowing your hard-ass husband, you had anticipated this, sort of. But you weren’t about to give up. “Well, I don’t think I need clearance to know why the analysts aren’t working on the mission right now,” you gestured to the unhurried staff working around you. 

Maria sighed, knowing you could be as stubborn as your husband. “Look, I’m not saying this as the Chief of Ground Staff, but as your friend. Some analysts have traveled with the team on the Quinjet. They’ll be doing close surveillance as opposed to remote guidance. Captain’s orders,” She looked you square in the eye as she said it, hoping for it to be the final word on the matter. 

All the air left your lungs in a whoosh. Damn Steve. Trust him to hide important things from you. What was he thinking?

“I know what you’re thinking, doll,” Bucky broke you out of your reverie with a hand on your shoulder. “But can you blame him? If I had such precious cargo on the way,” he looked at your belly with eyes full of emotion, “I would do everything I could to make light of the situation. I would shield you from everything in the world if I could.”

“But that’s not how our partnership works, Bucky. It never has and it never will. And Steve knows that very well.” You said as you stomped out of the bay, one hand placed protectively on your bump. “Whatever he thought he was doing, he has succeeded in achieving the opposite. I’m even more worried than I was before. What started as a gut feeling is now a confirmation that things are bad.”

“Wait, where are you going, doll?” Bucky strode after you, trying to keep up with you. As if on autopilot, your feet were speed walking you over to the hangar. 

“Going to assist my husband on his mission, what does it look like?” You yelled at him over your shoulder. Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm. You winced as soon as you said it. You knew you could never outrun the Winter Soldier, your present condition notwithstanding. He was going to do everything in his power to stop you. You had to get him on your team. There was no other way.

“Doll,” Bucky cut through your path and held your arm. “What do you think you’re doing? In your condition? If Steve finds out you left the compound, and that too on my watch, he’ll kill me.”

“Bucky! I’m sorry, but I have to go. I would rather risk that than-” your bottom lip wobbled, “than Steve not c-c-oming home.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, doll, nothing’s gonna happen to him. This is not his first rodeo, alright? He knows what he’s doing, plus he’s not alone. In fact,” Bucky chuckled, going for humor again, “he once jumped out of a plane without his parachute and landed without a scratch on him.” Your mouth dropped open in horror, and Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm as he realized it was the wrong thing to say, “NOT HELPING BUCKY,” you yelled and started walking towards the hangar again.

“Doll, please don’t do this. You don’t have to. Everything’s under control. Do you see other spouses running to the hangar like this? This is reckless and stupid.”

You paused in your tracks and turned around to face him. “Bucky. If you bring my pregnancy hormones into this one more time, I swear to God,” you didn’t know what to threaten him with, but you hoped your voice carried enough menace in it. “I am not a concerned spouse. I was the best analyst on duty. I want to offer my services. Can’t you see? Analysts traveling with the team is completely unorthodox. This is more serious than they’re letting on. The team needs me. Now you have two choices. Help me and face Steve’s wrath, or do nothing and regret. Your choice. I’m going anyway; the least you can do is not try to stop me. Apart from that, you decide, and decide quickly. Time is slipping away.”

Bucky gulped and cursed to himself, shaking his head and following you. “I’m gonna kick my own ass before Steve does if this goes south.” 

You smiled and paced towards the Quinjet that was on standby. “Don’t do that just yet. I’m gonna need you to fly this thing.”

Bucky used his ID to unlock the jet and get into the cockpit. He fired up the engine, and immediately the plane was filled with FRIDAY’s disembodied voice. “Authorization request. State your name and mission.” 

“Sergeant James Barnes, codename Winter Soldier.”

“ID confirmed. Clearance granted. State your mission.”

“Uh, FRIDAY, I want you to pull up the recent mission logs,” Bucky racked his brain and spoke aloud a cryptic serial number. 

“Noted. The logs do not mention you being assigned to the mission, Sergeant. I’m sorry I can’t share the real-time status updates with you.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment before responding. “I have Core Team Clearance. Please overrule the lock FRIDAY.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ll have to obtain clearance from Mr. Stark for this. Contacting him right now.”

Oh no. This can’t be good. Before Bucky could open his mouth, you interjected. “FRIDAY, this is Y/N Rogers. We have intel that the team is going to need reinforcements. WE are the reinforcements. There’s no need to contact Tony and interrupt him on his mission.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll need to ID you.” Sighing, you spoke your credentials out loud. 

“Confirmed. My records confirm that you have Core Team Clearance, too. The rulebook allows me to override the need for further clearance.” The screen popped up with the coordinates of the team’s location. “Good luck, Sergeant, Mrs. Rogers.” 

Bucky fired up the engine, and the plane was ready for takeoff. “Uh, FRIDAY, one last thing, please relay this communication to base: DO NOT alert the field ops about our presence. The reinforcement is classified because we don’t want the hostiles to know. Do you copy?” Bucky ordered the AI. 

“I copy that, Sergeant,” and with that, you were off the tarmac and airborne. 

You fought the nausea that was imminent for a pregnant lady on a plane. It wasn’t as difficult as you suspected, seeing as you were a woman on a mission after all. 

About a couple of hours later, you were close to the site of the mission. Bucky turned on the reflectors so you could go undetected by the enemy. He landed as close as possible to the temporary base set up for the analysts at a distance from the location of the skirmish. The two of you were alarmed to see the signs of destruction already. There was a lot of debris, collapsed buildings, and totaled cars that you were making your way through. Once you reached the base, you ran inside and grabbed one of the analysts by the shoulders. “Which one of you is running ops for the Captain?” Startled, they pointed towards the right person, and you immediately darted over there. Some of them began protesting in murmurs, which were silenced by Bucky. He stood guard at the entrance with his rifle drawn. 

The analyst assigned to Steve was stunned to see you standing over him. He continued to gape at you. “Move!” you yelled, roughly grabbing him by the shoulder. He left his seat in a daze, and you quickly dropped into the chair vacated by him. You donned his headset, eyes scanning the screen even as you performed your other movements. 

God, it felt good to be back. It was all coming back to you via muscle memory. You were glad to know that you weren’t losing your touch. 

“Beagle, do you copy? Beagle! I need visuals,” your husband’s voice yelled over the comms, mentioning the code name of the previous operator. You could hear gunshots and explosions in the background. Typical. 

You took a deep breath to calibrate yourself to the task at hand. “Copy that, Captain, this is Desert Hawk,” you announced your call sign as per the protocol. For a moment, all you heard was static accompanied by deep breaths. You copied him, too, needing all your focus to remember that you had to separate your husband from your mission, intersected as they were. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” He exploded. You blinked.

Wow. You weren’t expecting that. You just assumed that you’ll catch him off guard mid-action and he’ll have no choice but to oblige. But he sounded furious. You gulped and squared your shoulders. 

“No time to explain. This is an emergency. Beagle is safe. I’ve taken over.”

"Abort mission, I’m gonna stop you right there, Desert Hawk. I want you to return to base immediately. IT’S AN ORDER,” He yelled. 

“With all due respect, Captain, you could use my expertise. Now I’m gonna have to overrule your direct order temporarily and comply with the sitrep demand,” you scanned the perimeter on your screen from his vantage point, looking for an opportunity to evacuate. Safe to say that you had earned your codename. You were an expert at spotting covert evac points. 

“I see a potential evac point 10 miles to your Southwest, Cap. I suggest you, Nat and Clint, I mean, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton, head over there, stat.”

“You do realize there’s a penalty for insubordination, right?” he growled in barely suppressed fury, completely ignoring the message you relayed. 

Oh boy. The situation was rapidly going south. Not good at all. 

“Roger that, Captain,” you tried your best to keep your voice from quivering. “May I repeat the message, sir?” 

“Oh, NOW you’re asking PERMISSION?” Okay. This you could not entertain. You were trying to be an analyst and not his wife, but your husband was hell-bent on quarreling as if it were your bedroom and not the battlefield. It was time to deflect. 

“Captain, do I need to remind you of the task at hand?” you stated in a raised tone before prattling off the coordinates again. 

“I heard you just fine the first time,” he grumbled, and a grenade went off too close to his earpiece. You gulped and winced. 

“Captain, PLEASE get out of there.”

“How many hostages?” He ignored you again. You sighed, cursed him, and relayed the information. And as was usual in your camaraderie with him, you gave him an additional nugget of advice. “Mr. Stark, Falcon, and War Machine will handle the evac of hostages aerially.” 

“Roger that,” he said in such a strained voice that you could picture his distended neck veins, which you saw in your arguments with him when he sounded exactly like that. “I repeat, Desert Hawk, I hope you recall the consequences of insubordination.”

“Y-yes, Captain. I do,” you gulped, knowing he was not gonna drop it till you acquiesced. 

“Damn right you do,” he growled under his breath but the comms picked it up nevertheless. Your panties grew damp at his low tone. A part of you wanted him there with you, right now, punishing you as he saw fit. 

“Captain, update your status.” You checked with him after a brief pause. 

“All clear. Sitrep update, stat,” he replied. 

“All clear for you to evac. Please relay your orders to the airborne team.”

“Copy that. I’ll see you in 10 minutes. Don’t. Move,” he said in a menacing voice, and then he turned the comms off. He actually, straight up, did that. You were so astounded that you threw your headset off. 

The rest of the time, you and the other analysts waited with bated breath. Sam and Nat were online, so you still had information pouring in. It looked like the situation was under control, much to your relief. 

Bucky was standing guard at the entrance. He straightened when your husband, Captain America himself, walked, no, practically burst in. 

(gif made by me)

The relief that you forgot to feel in the heat of the moment after hearing his voice for the first time came crashing down on you at the sight of him. He was bruised, bloody, and looking like a battle god. Fear and arousal clamored in your system, although they couldn’t overwhelm your relief. “Everyone! Leave us. Right now,” he commanded the rest of the room, without breaking eye contact with you. 

Chest heaving, you dared not utter a single word or take your eyes off him. You didn’t need to guess that he didn’t mean you by that. 

“Sergeant Barnes, you’ll transport the tech team to the base and immediately get back here.” He turned and looked at Bucky, whose eyes were shifting between you and Steve. “I’ll deal with you then,” he narrowed his eyes at his best friend. Bucky had no choice but to comply. He nodded and left, sparing one more concerned glance in your direction. 

“You’ll not punish Bucky, Steve,” you stated before your courage deserted you. “He didn’t act on his own accord.”

“QUIET!” He yelled so loudly he made you recoil in surprise. “I’m still your Captain, and you’ll address me as such. Do you understand?” 

You flinched but then nodded. “Use your words,” he stated with cold fury in his voice. 

“Y-yes, Captain.”

“As the leader of this mission, it is my responsibility to mete out punishments to insubordinate team members, and I’m dispensing it,” he said as he dropped his shield and took off his helmet. “But as your husband, I’m gonna have to be careful,” he added with a softness that betrayed his feelings. 

He turned, locked the door and windows, and then advanced on you. He marched straight into your personal space, crowding you against a table in the corner. “What were you thinking, huh? WHY did you put me in a situation like that? I was so scared when I heard your voice on comms that the shock alone would’ve killed me, had I been a lesser man. Didn’t even need bullets to take me out.” 

You had your eyes downcast, letting him have his moment. His rage was totally justified, and you knew it. But when you looked back up at him, you didn’t expect him to look pained. 

He looked so distraught that you stepped towards him and made to touch his cheek. He swatted your hand away. “What you did today cannot happen again, is that clear?” 

“On one condition.” Oh boy, you had some hubris. Even Steve narrowed his eyes at you. "You're in no position to-"

"I know." You held your palms up. "But hear me out. You'll not say a word to Bucky. Not a word. That's my condition."

Steve still stared at you. Breathing hard. But he didn't reply. 

"Please. I beg you," you choked out, tears pooling in your eyes. 

"Now that's more like it. Kneel." He said with a finality that brokered no argument. You complied, supporting your belly as you did so. 

"I'm gonna take your mouth, and I'm gonna take it hard. Tap my thigh if you can't breathe. Got it?" 

You nodded, looking up at him, eyes watery with unshed tears. Steve's cock lurched at the pretty sight that was you, on your knees at his mercy, begging. And round with his child. He felt the perverse pleasure of the moment surge through him and harden him further. 

He unzipped his pants, only letting his hard member out. The rest of him was still fully dressed. It was a first for you, too; you had never played while he was in his uniform. It was definitely doing something for you. 

You surged forward and grabbed him with both hands, but he flicked your wrists away. "Ah ah ah, you can only use your mouth. Hands behind your back." You obliged. He stroked himself once and then held his shaft up at the base so that the mushroom head was pointing straight at you. 

You wrapped your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around his sensitive head and flicking it rapidly against his frenulum. He moaned, and his knees buckled. He planted his palms on the table behind you and cursed. You slowly took more and more of him into your mouth, breathing slowly through your nose. He let you set the pace, thankfully, as you let him sink to the back of your throat. 

Fresh tears bloomed in your eyes, but these were due to the struggle of not gagging against him. He stretched your throat with his bulge, but you focused on your breathing and letting yourself adjust. Once you felt you were stable, you bobbed your neck back and forth, stimulating his length with your mouth. 

He did not touch you till you found a slow rhythm. But once you started deep-throating him vigorously, he started pumping his hips in tandem with you. He found his rhythm, going back when you came forth so that he had more room to fuck your face on the next stroke in. You moaned as he took more and more control, your eyes going glassy as you slipped into subspace. Seeing you dropping, he quickly held the sides of your face and threaded his fingers through your hair. He stilled for a moment. "Remember, you can tap out if it gets too much. Tap if you understand". He waited with bated breath till one of your hands weakly came up and tapped lightly on his thigh. Taking it as his go-ahead, he started thrusting into your mouth vigorously, using his hold on your hair to pull and push you on his cock. 

His thrusts became animalistic as drool and precum dripped down your chin and chest. He started grunting, and his thrusts became rougher, a telltale sign that he was about to come. You winced and closed your eyes, preparing to feel his hot salty cum fill your throat or splatter on your face, but he pulled out altogether. Bereft and dazed, you looked up at him to see him pull you up by your arms and manhandle you like a ragdoll on the table. 

He lay you flat on your back and stripped off your pants and panties. He turned you on one side and pushed your hips closer till you were folded in a fetal position. "You okay?" He gasped, and you tapped your own thigh, out of your mind already. "Use your words," he said sternly. 

"'m okay," you mumbled. He straightened again. "I'm gonna give you 20 spanks and then I'm gonna fuck you. You're not allowed to tap out unless you feel there's any harm to the baby. You got that?"  

"Yes, sir," you slurred, floating in your subspace. 

He propelled your body slightly forward as he landed his first hard spank on your ass. You whimpered and continued to take it on your limp body, jolting forward with every spank that landed on your cheeks. After your punishment was done, you were sure that your bottom was going to be flaming red. He placed a firm palm on your upper thigh, rolling it slightly forward so that your puffy lips were better visible to him. 

"Wet already, hmm?" He said as he tested your pussy with two fingers. "That's good enough," he grunted as he shoved himself into you and immediately set a brutal pace. A long whine of pain and pleasure left you the moment he entered you roughly. You stretched out one hand to grab the edge of the table you were on, afraid that the table might snap if its violent shaking at Steve's thrusts was any indication.

“Don’t. Ever. Do. That. To. Me. Ever. Again, got that?” Steve punched out each word in tandem with his thrusts. His balls and thighs slapped against the back of yours, and if you'd been a little more conscious, you would have squealed at his onslaught. Mad with rage as he was, you trusted him to still be in control fully and never do anything to put you in harm's way. Even in punishment, you felt safe, not feeling the need to tap out; safe in the knowledge that your husband and the father of your child was safe and back with you, punishing you because he cared for you. 

He got you cock drunk on his thrusts, and your head felt like it was full of cotton and the word 'safe' was pinging inside it. You lolled your head back and surrendered your body to your Captain. One of his fingerless glove-covered palms cupped your mound, the texture abrasive against your soft skin while his fingers teased your clit. You shuddered and made a few guttural noises as you couldn't hold it in, but you dared not cum unless he allowed you. 

"Did so well. Took the punishment like a champ. Let go honey, you can cum," he panted through the exertion of working your body over. White hot bliss filled your entire being as your toes curled, and a flutter started up in your womb and shuddered through you. It caught him, too, and he moaned as he soldiered through it until he spurted, spent and sated. He collapsed next to you, gently pulled himself out, and rolled you over to inspect you.  

You were still blissed out and limp. Steve dressed you and lifted you in his arms, cooing at you and stroking your hair and face. “Let me see your pretty eyes, lovely,” he said as he stroked your tummy next. You whined and buried your face in his chest, still not ready to let go of the warm, fuzzy headspace you were in. Steve kissed your head and kept cooing and cuddling you as he sat on the table with you in his arms, waiting for Bucky to return. 

On the Quinjet back home, you stirred and sat up. Steve was still holding you and chatting with Bucky as the latter steered the plane back home. You propped yourself up and smiled at Steve, making him look down at you. You held your breath for a beat until his lips stretched out in a fond smile. “Hey, doll, there you are. How are you feeling?” 

A surge of relief went through you at the sight of his relaxed countenance. You dropped your cheek back to his chest, the coarse fabric of his uniform abrading your skin. You smiled to yourself, “Mmmm, all good. I see things are all good here, too?” You looked up and glanced between him and Bucky in the cockpit. 

Steve raised his eyebrows at you. “Yes. You know I had to keep my word after you were so good to me. Took the punishment so well,” you preened at that, but Steve frowned, “I’ve been waiting to check with you: how’s our bubs?” 

You rubbed your tummy fondly, “All snuggly and quiet in there. Looks like he’s scared of angry Daddy,” you pouted up at him. 

Steve’s frown deepened, and he pressed his lips together. “As he should. Doll, we need to talk about this.” Your back straightened, and you gulped, knowing what was to come. 

“What you did back there was brave. Brave, but extremely stupid. How am I supposed to rest knowing you can pull shit like that again? How can I trust you not to do it again? I’ll not stop short of tying you to our bed before I leave for a mission. Or have FRIDAY bar you from leaving the compound. Thought I told you not to do anything stupid until I got back, huh? Didn’t I?"

You looked down as you played with your fingers, pouting. “Yes, you did, Steve. I was just worried. I know how you get on the field. You’re one to talk about brave and stupid. You’re reckless, too!”

“Hmmm looks like I’m gonna have to fix that mouth when we get back,” he narrowed his eyes at you with a light slap to your ass. You winced, “after I put some aloe on this ass,” he added. You said nothing, knowing it’ll only make matters worse for you if you did. Steve sighed and spoke again, “Doll, I get it. But you have to know, with our little one on the way, I want to be careful too. I want to come home to both of you. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna pull my punches or stop trying to do my duty. I’m trying to find a balance here. And you have to trust the team, we’ve got the best people, and we’ve always got each other’s backs. But I promise I’ll be careful. Can you promise me you’ll be careful too? You’ve got two lives to care about. It’s not just you anymore.”

“That’s fair, Steve,” you whispered. “I promise, too. This won’t happen again. I’ll be careful.”

“You better,” Steve warned, but he gave you a small smile and gathered you close. He kissed your forehead, “You two are my world. I’ll always protect you.”

You smiled back, cuddled him, and fell back asleep. All was right in your world, now that your Captain had briefed you about your mission (to keep baby Rogers safe).

fin   

✪ A/N2: Whew! Love protective Angry Dom Steve 🥵 I do not regret my actions.

I'd love to hear from you all about this fic! I could use feedback since I am coming back to writing after a long break.

The morning sun streaming through the curtains woke Steve up. A light sleeper himself, he wasn't bothered by that, but he arose to shut them tighter before it woke you up. 

(gif made by me)

He knew how precious your sleep was in your condition. He turned around to see you in deep sleep, cuddling your body pillow on one side while he occupied the other side until he arose. He saw you frown at the loss of his warmth and smiled softly at the adorable pout on your face. He couldn't resist kissing your brow, resting his lips there till your frown smoothed out. 

He fussed with the covers, trying to compensate for the loss of his body heat. He got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and left the bedroom to make breakfast for you. 

He knew from experience that although you loved pancakes of all kinds, your baby made you crave blueberry pancakes. He got to work on making them and started the coffee machine as well. 

His sharp ears caught the sound of your feet padding into the kitchen. He kept his back turned to you, however, hoping with a smile to himself that you’d come to him. 

And go to him you did, yawning and rubbing your eyes, sleepily seeking your husband’s warmth. You hugged his bare back, groaning when your pregnant belly got squished between you two and didn’t let you get as close to him as you wanted to be. 

“Steeb,” you whined, rubbing your nose between his shoulder blades. Steve smiled and pulled you into a half hug, slotting you up against his flank. You whined once again, wanting a bear hug. Sighing, he put his spatula down and obliged. “Why are you up, sweetie?” he asked in his gravelly morning voice. 

“Why are you?” came your reply against his chest. Steve chuckled and rocked you gently. “You know I don’t need much sleep, right?” he mumbled into the crown of your head, his hands stroking your hair and back, occasionally squeezing your lower back where he knew it hurt you a lot lately. “Mmm, yes, but you left and I was cold,” you whined again, burrowing your nose in his pillowy pecs. Steve kissed your head and whispered softly. “I’m sorry, sweetie. How’s the little bub?” 

“Still sleeping, but I bet either your voice or the smell of the pancakes will wake him,” you whispered back so as not to disturb his sleep. 

“Alright then, mama, have a seat at the table, I’ll bring you your coffee.”

“Decaf?” you checked with him. Coffee was your favorite thing in the world (Steve was a close second, although once the baby arrived, he was going to get demoted to number 3). It crushed you not to be able to partake in it due to the morning sickness, hence the decaf version. It had to do for now. 

Steve made a face that said, ‘obviously’ as he handed you the mug. The first sip breathed some life into you, and you sat up straighter, striking up a conversation with your husband about your trip to the gyno on the compound. “So… the doctor believes our baby boy will be here sooner than expected.” 

“Really?” Steve’s excited blue eyes turned on you, and you secretly prayed, not for the first time, that the baby inherits his beautiful eyes. 

You nodded. He had missed the appointment yesterday due to some work-related emergency and he was bummed about it. He was eager to hear all the details to make up for it. “Mmm-hmm. She said he’s growing faster than an average human child. So there’s a high chance I’ll be at full term before the usual nine months.” 

Steve went still. “Should we be worried?” 

You sighed, “No, Steve, it’s all under control. Apparently, he inherited your, um, serum enhancements, so…the theory is that his rapid growth is because of your rapid healing abilities. His cells grow faster or something like that.” Steve hummed, taking it all in. You perked up at your next statement. “And turns out I was right about my theory. The one about him being able to hear and smell things and respond.”

“Nah-”

“He recognised Bucky the other day.”

“That was a lucky chance-”

You two talked over each other as you bantered. Just then, you were interrupted by FRIDAY, the compound’s sentient AI. “Captain, sorry to bother you on your day off, but there are reports of a level 6 emergency..”

Like the flick of a switch, Steve's entire demeanor changed right before your eyes. Gone was the doting husband; in his place stood an Avenger. He stood protectively before you as if blocking you from any disturbing news. You didn't need to see or hear that in your state.  

"Do we have visuals?" he asked the AI. A flat projector screen descended from your ceiling, broadcasting the visuals STARK satellites might have gathered about the aforementioned incident. Steve didn't utter another word, just stood there taking it all in, his fists clenched by his sides the only indication of his rage. His voice was deceptively even when he said his next words, "Has Stark been alerted?"

"He's already on his way."

"Get the Quinjet ready,"

“Copy that, Captain. I’ll alert the others to gather in the briefing room,” Steve had already started towards your bedroom, and you guessed it was to fetch his uniform and weapons. You stood there for a moment, feeling helpless. You wanted to help him with every fiber of your being, but you knew that in your current state, you’d only slow him down and get in the way. 

But you still waddled to the hallway where you knew he had stored his holster and belt. You grabbed them and handed both to him as he left the bedroom, his uniform already donned. 

“Thanks, doll,” he breathed, and you stood on your tippy-toes trying to put the shoulder straps on him. He turned around and bent slightly so you could do it properly. Next, you helped him don the belt around his waist, and when you were done, you raised your doleful eyes at him. 

It was like the frantic energy of the room paused the moment your eyes met his. “Doll,” he sighed, “I know what you’re gonna say. I promise I’ll be careful. But I don’t have much time now. Thousands of lives are at stake.” You nodded, after all, you were well aware of what they all dealt with, thanks to your job (which you had taken a maternity sabbatical from) as a field analyst to the Avengers' core team. That’s how you had met and fallen in love with the hard-headed Captain, who was now your husband, Steve. 

You sighed and cast your gaze downward. Above your head, Steve did the same and then cupped your face with his hands. As you gazed up at him this time, your eyes were brimming with tears. Ever since you dated and later married Steve, you’ve had to see him off for countless missions, but that didn’t make the angst of separation any easier. Steve attributed it to your pregnancy hormones, but you knew better. He gave you a small smile and pressed his lips against yours in a deep yet quick kiss, stealing your breath away. “Love you,” he brushed those words against your lips while resting his forehead against yours. His body jerked as he made to pull away, but before he fully detached himself, he caressed your belly gently, “Love you too, bub. Be good for Momma, okay?” His words brought on another sob from you, but Steve had already overextended his goodbyes. With another caress to your cheeks, he parted, clipped his shield to his back, and broke out in a jog towards the briefing room.

Your feet rushed after him as if pulled by a magnet. Steve knew you would follow him to the door. “Don’t do anything stupid till I get back,” he threw over his shoulder at you as he continued sprinting. You smiled a watery smile at his retreating form, fully aware of the context. 

You stayed rooted to your spot in the doorway for an unknown amount of time, cradling your belly and lost in your thoughts. Movement from your son catapulted you into action as you decided to finish your breakfast. Going back to your cold coffee and pancakes, your mind was still reeling with worry for Steve’s safety. 

You were assigned to him after emerging as the most efficient field analyst hired by the Avengers HQ in the last year. You swiftly got promoted until you reached that stage, which your coworkers coveted as the ultimate goal. On the day of your induction, Tony had quipped that your chair was not the throne your coworkers made it seem like, but a chair of thorns, and that you’d need all the luck in the world to last even three months. His words rang true because Captain America was nearly impossible to work with. Not only was he technologically challenged, but he was also incredibly stubborn and reckless. He repeatedly ignored your inputs. He deliberately swerved left when you specifically told him over comms to go right. “Soldier’s instinct,” he would always argue. At first, his insubordination drew you up the wall, but slowly, you came to see it for what it was. It didn’t stem from arrogance as you wrongly assumed, but from his innate hardwiring to place the mission and his teammates’ safety above his own. When you took a deliberate step back from your anger, frustration, and annoyance at his actions, you saw a true leader and a selfless hero.

It went downhill from that point, where you struggled to maintain professionalism around him. Your admiration went from respect to crush to obsession to full-blown love. He was not oblivious to it, of course, and neither did he pretend to be. He went from exchanging just short of curse words with you on comms to actually listening to you on the field, from curt nods when he passed you in hallways to full-blown smiles. He insisted on your sitting in on the Avengers’ core meetings, opened doors and pulled chairs for you at those, much to everyone else’s silent amusement. Tony would loudly complain to you about the Captain’s foul moods on the rare occasions you took a day off and he had to work with a substitute. You were unofficially promoted to his personal assistant when he refused to hire another person to take care of his off-field responsibilities. “She just gets me like no one else can. We’re a team,” he had said with such a dazzling smile and shining eyes that you didn’t have the heart to turn down the huge pile of paperwork that implied. 

Everything escalated quickly when one day he was brought in from a tough mission to you chewing your nails and pacing the room. His comms had died out, and one by one, the team had started trickling in. You were guiding Sam Wilson in his aerial surveillance in looking for Captain Rogers. After 11 harrowing hours, the medic brought him in, barely conscious and severely injured. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, let alone sleep or eat, till you saw him in the flesh. Thankfully, his serum ensured that he was already healing in the Quinjet on his way over, able to prop himself up with some help. You marched in, and when you saw him, you could have either slapped him or kissed him, but instead, you let all hell loose and yelled at him as if he were a 5-year-old. Steve listened patiently to you ranting and losing your mind until you were close to ripping your hair out, at which point he pushed himself up into a sitting position using all his remaining strength, grabbed you, and kissed you soundly on the lips. “I knew it,” he had said, “I knew I was more than a job to you,” he had smirked after you reciprocated his kiss, and then promptly blushed and hid in his chest. “That means you’re gonna lose your best partner on the job,” you had mumbled, knowing the implications. “Never mind,” he had said as he dropped back down on his stretcher, “I’m gaining my best girl for life, hopefully.” You remembered his smile as he was carted away into the medbay. 

Cut to the present moment, you sighed as you bit into your cold breakfast, running a hand on your belly. “I wish you could read my mind, bubs,” you spoke to your son in your belly. “I just finished thinking about how I met your father.” It made sense to you now, why your goodbyes never became easier for you. With you stepping down as his assigned analyst (You insisted to Tony, citing ‘lack of objectivity’ when Steve flirted with you on missions more than once. You had to remind him, much to your chagrin, that your conversations weren’t exactly private). You had relinquished control of how he maneuvered himself on the field. You could no longer see him in action on the screen, sort of watching over him and ensuring his six was always covered. It was calming to your nerves to have that semblance of reassurance, but with that gone, you were just as helpless as any other military wife. 

But you weren’t complaining. The moment you and Steve began dating, you became an unofficial member of the Avengers. It felt odd at first, no longer being starstruck by the rest of them or squirming when they asked you to drop the honorifics and not act so professional around them. The boys all treated you like a delicate doll, seeing as you were not enhanced in any way. Some nights, you lay in bed pinching yourself, not able to believe that you had just returned from a pajama movie night with Wanda, Nat, and Pepper. Unreal.

As you reminisced about your relationship with Steve leading up to this moment, your child kicked you. “I know, bubs, do you miss Daddy already? I know I do,” you sighed. “It’s just…something about this mission doesn’t seem right to me,” you frowned, feeling unsettled. “Call it an analyst’s instinct but….I’ve got a bad gut feeling about this,” you muttered to yourself. “Oh, who am I kidding, no offense, bubs, but you’re just a smol bean, talking to you is not gonna help me, I need to talk to one of your uncles. Or aunties. Let’s go,” you made up your mind, pushed yourself out of your chair, and dumped the remaining cold coffee in the sink. 

You marched, no, waddled out, determined to find the first person on the staff to get in on this mission. Lady Luck must be shining on you because you crossed paths with none other than Bucky Barnes. 

“Hey, doll, where’s the fire?” he gave you his roguish half smile. 

“Bucky,” you breathed with relief. There was truly no better person to understand your predicament than your husband’s best friend. But wait a minute-

“Why aren’t you on the mission?” The uneasiness in your gut grew because this implied one less protector on the team. You knew very well that Bucky always had Steve’s back. Always.

“Well,” Bucky looked down at his prosthetic arm wistfully, “I busted the circuits in this thing on the last mission; it needs to be reprogrammed. So I’m benched.” 

Your frown deepened, and Bucky noticed that. “What’s up, doll?” he queried with his own frown. You decided to confide in him. “I have a gut feeling about this mission, Bucky. I need to know how it’s going.” 

Bucky looked at your face and your belly for a second before he replied. “You sure it’s not the little punk in there? Hi pal, it’s your uncle Bucky,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Bucky,” you sighed. “I’m sure it’s not. I just…can’t rest easy unless I know what’s going on.”

Bucky’s frown returned for a split second as he realized you were in no mood to joke. He smiled reassuringly, though, in the very next minute. “That’s easy, doll, and I’m surprised it didn’t strike you sooner,” he said as he started leading you away with him. You looked at him, puzzled. “The analyst’s bay, of course. You can ask your old pals on the staff about the updates, I’m sure they’ll be happy to provide them to you.” 

Bucky’s solution sounded good enough, although strangely it did nothing to settle your nerves. Nevertheless, you followed him, knowing that doing something rather than sitting on your hands will definitely ease your mind.

You reached the analytics bay and were surprised to see that it wasn’t buzzing with activity as you expected. Some of your ex-colleagues smiled at you from their desks, but nobody seemed to be in a rush or frantically giving remote guidance to the team. You saw Maria walking down one of the aisles, and you immediately stopped her. “Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I uh- wanted updates on the latest mission.” Maria cocked her head at you, her eyes softening. She measured her next words carefully before speaking, “I’m sorry, it’s a covert mission, and seeing as you’re no longer an analyst, you don’t have clearance to receive that information.” Knowing your hard-ass husband, you had anticipated this, sort of. But you weren’t about to give up. “Well, I don’t think I need clearance to know why the analysts aren’t working on the mission right now,” you gestured to the unhurried staff working around you. 

Maria sighed, knowing you could be as stubborn as your husband. “Look, I’m not saying this as the Chief of Ground Staff, but as your friend. Some analysts have traveled with the team on the Quinjet. They’ll be doing close surveillance as opposed to remote guidance. Captain’s orders,” She looked you square in the eye as she said it, hoping for it to be the final word on the matter. 

All the air left your lungs in a whoosh. Damn Steve. Trust him to hide important things from you. What was he thinking?

“I know what you’re thinking, doll,” Bucky broke you out of your reverie with a hand on your shoulder. “But can you blame him? If I had such precious cargo on the way,” he looked at your belly with eyes full of emotion, “I would do everything I could to make light of the situation. I would shield you from everything in the world if I could.”

“But that’s not how our partnership works, Bucky. It never has and it never will. And Steve knows that very well.” You said as you stomped out of the bay, one hand placed protectively on your bump. “Whatever he thought he was doing, he has succeeded in achieving the opposite. I’m even more worried than I was before. What started as a gut feeling is now a confirmation that things are bad.”

“Wait, where are you going, doll?” Bucky strode after you, trying to keep up with you. As if on autopilot, your feet were speed walking you over to the hangar. 

“Going to assist my husband on his mission, what does it look like?” You yelled at him over your shoulder. Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm. You winced as soon as you said it. You knew you could never outrun the Winter Soldier, your present condition notwithstanding. He was going to do everything in his power to stop you. You had to get him on your team. There was no other way.

“Doll,” Bucky cut through your path and held your arm. “What do you think you’re doing? In your condition? If Steve finds out you left the compound, and that too on my watch, he’ll kill me.”

“Bucky! I’m sorry, but I have to go. I would rather risk that than-” your bottom lip wobbled, “than Steve not c-c-oming home.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, doll, nothing’s gonna happen to him. This is not his first rodeo, alright? He knows what he’s doing, plus he’s not alone. In fact,” Bucky chuckled, going for humor again, “he once jumped out of a plane without his parachute and landed without a scratch on him.” Your mouth dropped open in horror, and Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm as he realized it was the wrong thing to say, “NOT HELPING BUCKY,” you yelled and started walking towards the hangar again.

“Doll, please don’t do this. You don’t have to. Everything’s under control. Do you see other spouses running to the hangar like this? This is reckless and stupid.”

You paused in your tracks and turned around to face him. “Bucky. If you bring my pregnancy hormones into this one more time, I swear to God,” you didn’t know what to threaten him with, but you hoped your voice carried enough menace in it. “I am not a concerned spouse. I was the best analyst on duty. I want to offer my services. Can’t you see? Analysts traveling with the team is completely unorthodox. This is more serious than they’re letting on. The team needs me. Now you have two choices. Help me and face Steve’s wrath, or do nothing and regret. Your choice. I’m going anyway; the least you can do is not try to stop me. Apart from that, you decide, and decide quickly. Time is slipping away.”

Bucky gulped and cursed to himself, shaking his head and following you. “I’m gonna kick my own ass before Steve does if this goes south.” 

You smiled and paced towards the Quinjet that was on standby. “Don’t do that just yet. I’m gonna need you to fly this thing.”

Bucky used his ID to unlock the jet and get into the cockpit. He fired up the engine, and immediately the plane was filled with FRIDAY’s disembodied voice. “Authorization request. State your name and mission.” 

“Sergeant James Barnes, codename Winter Soldier.”

“ID confirmed. Clearance granted. State your mission.”

“Uh, FRIDAY, I want you to pull up the recent mission logs,” Bucky racked his brain and spoke aloud a cryptic serial number. 

“Noted. The logs do not mention you being assigned to the mission, Sergeant. I’m sorry I can’t share the real-time status updates with you.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment before responding. “I have Core Team Clearance. Please overrule the lock FRIDAY.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ll have to obtain clearance from Mr. Stark for this. Contacting him right now.”

Oh no. This can’t be good. Before Bucky could open his mouth, you interjected. “FRIDAY, this is Y/N Rogers. We have intel that the team is going to need reinforcements. WE are the reinforcements. There’s no need to contact Tony and interrupt him on his mission.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll need to ID you.” Sighing, you spoke your credentials out loud. 

“Confirmed. My records confirm that you have Core Team Clearance, too. The rulebook allows me to override the need for further clearance.” The screen popped up with the coordinates of the team’s location. “Good luck, Sergeant, Mrs. Rogers.” 

Bucky fired up the engine, and the plane was ready for takeoff. “Uh, FRIDAY, one last thing, please relay this communication to base: DO NOT alert the field ops about our presence. The reinforcement is classified because we don’t want the hostiles to know. Do you copy?” Bucky ordered the AI. 

“I copy that, Sergeant,” and with that, you were off the tarmac and airborne. 

You fought the nausea that was imminent for a pregnant lady on a plane. It wasn’t as difficult as you suspected, seeing as you were a woman on a mission after all. 

About a couple of hours later, you were close to the site of the mission. Bucky turned on the reflectors so you could go undetected by the enemy. He landed as close as possible to the temporary base set up for the analysts at a distance from the location of the skirmish. The two of you were alarmed to see the signs of destruction already. There was a lot of debris, collapsed buildings, and totaled cars that you were making your way through. Once you reached the base, you ran inside and grabbed one of the analysts by the shoulders. “Which one of you is running ops for the Captain?” Startled, they pointed towards the right person, and you immediately darted over there. Some of them began protesting in murmurs, which were silenced by Bucky. He stood guard at the entrance with his rifle drawn. 

The analyst assigned to Steve was stunned to see you standing over him. He continued to gape at you. “Move!” you yelled, roughly grabbing him by the shoulder. He left his seat in a daze, and you quickly dropped into the chair vacated by him. You donned his headset, eyes scanning the screen even as you performed your other movements. 

God, it felt good to be back. It was all coming back to you via muscle memory. You were glad to know that you weren’t losing your touch. 

“Beagle, do you copy? Beagle! I need visuals,” your husband’s voice yelled over the comms, mentioning the code name of the previous operator. You could hear gunshots and explosions in the background. Typical. 

You took a deep breath to calibrate yourself to the task at hand. “Copy that, Captain, this is Desert Hawk,” you announced your call sign as per the protocol. For a moment, all you heard was static accompanied by deep breaths. You copied him, too, needing all your focus to remember that you had to separate your husband from your mission, intersected as they were. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” He exploded. You blinked.

Wow. You weren’t expecting that. You just assumed that you’ll catch him off guard mid-action and he’ll have no choice but to oblige. But he sounded furious. You gulped and squared your shoulders. 

“No time to explain. This is an emergency. Beagle is safe. I’ve taken over.”

"Abort mission, I’m gonna stop you right there, Desert Hawk. I want you to return to base immediately. IT’S AN ORDER,” He yelled. 

“With all due respect, Captain, you could use my expertise. Now I’m gonna have to overrule your direct order temporarily and comply with the sitrep demand,” you scanned the perimeter on your screen from his vantage point, looking for an opportunity to evacuate. Safe to say that you had earned your codename. You were an expert at spotting covert evac points. 

“I see a potential evac point 10 miles to your Southwest, Cap. I suggest you, Nat and Clint, I mean, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton, head over there, stat.”

“You do realize there’s a penalty for insubordination, right?” he growled in barely suppressed fury, completely ignoring the message you relayed. 

Oh boy. The situation was rapidly going south. Not good at all. 

“Roger that, Captain,” you tried your best to keep your voice from quivering. “May I repeat the message, sir?” 

“Oh, NOW you’re asking PERMISSION?” Okay. This you could not entertain. You were trying to be an analyst and not his wife, but your husband was hell-bent on quarreling as if it were your bedroom and not the battlefield. It was time to deflect. 

“Captain, do I need to remind you of the task at hand?” you stated in a raised tone before prattling off the coordinates again. 

“I heard you just fine the first time,” he grumbled, and a grenade went off too close to his earpiece. You gulped and winced. 

“Captain, PLEASE get out of there.”

“How many hostages?” He ignored you again. You sighed, cursed him, and relayed the information. And as was usual in your camaraderie with him, you gave him an additional nugget of advice. “Mr. Stark, Falcon, and War Machine will handle the evac of hostages aerially.” 

“Roger that,” he said in such a strained voice that you could picture his distended neck veins, which you saw in your arguments with him when he sounded exactly like that. “I repeat, Desert Hawk, I hope you recall the consequences of insubordination.”

“Y-yes, Captain. I do,” you gulped, knowing he was not gonna drop it till you acquiesced. 

“Damn right you do,” he growled under his breath but the comms picked it up nevertheless. Your panties grew damp at his low tone. A part of you wanted him there with you, right now, punishing you as he saw fit. 

“Captain, update your status.” You checked with him after a brief pause. 

“All clear. Sitrep update, stat,” he replied. 

“All clear for you to evac. Please relay your orders to the airborne team.”

“Copy that. I’ll see you in 10 minutes. Don’t. Move,” he said in a menacing voice, and then he turned the comms off. He actually, straight up, did that. You were so astounded that you threw your headset off. 

The rest of the time, you and the other analysts waited with bated breath. Sam and Nat were online, so you still had information pouring in. It looked like the situation was under control, much to your relief. 

Bucky was standing guard at the entrance. He straightened when your husband, Captain America himself, walked, no, practically burst in. 

(gif made by me)

The relief that you forgot to feel in the heat of the moment after hearing his voice for the first time came crashing down on you at the sight of him. He was bruised, bloody, and looking like a battle god. Fear and arousal clamored in your system, although they couldn’t overwhelm your relief. “Everyone! Leave us. Right now,” he commanded the rest of the room, without breaking eye contact with you. 

Chest heaving, you dared not utter a single word or take your eyes off him. You didn’t need to guess that he didn’t mean you by that. 

“Sergeant Barnes, you’ll transport the tech team to the base and immediately get back here.” He turned and looked at Bucky, whose eyes were shifting between you and Steve. “I’ll deal with you then,” he narrowed his eyes at his best friend. Bucky had no choice but to comply. He nodded and left, sparing one more concerned glance in your direction. 

“You’ll not punish Bucky, Steve,” you stated before your courage deserted you. “He didn’t act on his own accord.”

“QUIET!” He yelled so loudly he made you recoil in surprise. “I’m still your Captain, and you’ll address me as such. Do you understand?” 

You flinched but then nodded. “Use your words,” he stated with cold fury in his voice. 

“Y-yes, Captain.”

“As the leader of this mission, it is my responsibility to mete out punishments to insubordinate team members, and I’m dispensing it,” he said as he dropped his shield and took off his helmet. “But as your husband, I’m gonna have to be careful,” he added with a softness that betrayed his feelings. 

He turned, locked the door and windows, and then advanced on you. He marched straight into your personal space, crowding you against a table in the corner. “What were you thinking, huh? WHY did you put me in a situation like that? I was so scared when I heard your voice on comms that the shock alone would’ve killed me, had I been a lesser man. Didn’t even need bullets to take me out.” 

You had your eyes downcast, letting him have his moment. His rage was totally justified, and you knew it. But when you looked back up at him, you didn’t expect him to look pained. 

He looked so distraught that you stepped towards him and made to touch his cheek. He swatted your hand away. “What you did today cannot happen again, is that clear?” 

“On one condition.” Oh boy, you had some hubris. Even Steve narrowed his eyes at you. "You're in no position to-"

"I know." You held your palms up. "But hear me out. You'll not say a word to Bucky. Not a word. That's my condition."

Steve still stared at you. Breathing hard. But he didn't reply. 

"Please. I beg you," you choked out, tears pooling in your eyes. 

"Now that's more like it. Kneel." He said with a finality that brokered no argument. You complied, supporting your belly as you did so. 

"I'm gonna take your mouth, and I'm gonna take it hard. Tap my thigh if you can't breathe. Got it?" 

You nodded, looking up at him, eyes watery with unshed tears. Steve's cock lurched at the pretty sight that was you, on your knees at his mercy, begging. And round with his child. He felt the perverse pleasure of the moment surge through him and harden him further. 

He unzipped his pants, only letting his hard member out. The rest of him was still fully dressed. It was a first for you, too; you had never played while he was in his uniform. It was definitely doing something for you. 

You surged forward and grabbed him with both hands, but he flicked your wrists away. "Ah ah ah, you can only use your mouth. Hands behind your back." You obliged. He stroked himself once and then held his shaft up at the base so that the mushroom head was pointing straight at you. 

You wrapped your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around his sensitive head and flicking it rapidly against his frenulum. He moaned, and his knees buckled. He planted his palms on the table behind you and cursed. You slowly took more and more of him into your mouth, breathing slowly through your nose. He let you set the pace, thankfully, as you let him sink to the back of your throat. 

Fresh tears bloomed in your eyes, but these were due to the struggle of not gagging against him. He stretched your throat with his bulge, but you focused on your breathing and letting yourself adjust. Once you felt you were stable, you bobbed your neck back and forth, stimulating his length with your mouth. 

He did not touch you till you found a slow rhythm. But once you started deep-throating him vigorously, he started pumping his hips in tandem with you. He found his rhythm, going back when you came forth so that he had more room to fuck your face on the next stroke in. You moaned as he took more and more control, your eyes going glassy as you slipped into subspace. Seeing you dropping, he quickly held the sides of your face and threaded his fingers through your hair. He stilled for a moment. "Remember, you can tap out if it gets too much. Tap if you understand". He waited with bated breath till one of your hands weakly came up and tapped lightly on his thigh. Taking it as his go-ahead, he started thrusting into your mouth vigorously, using his hold on your hair to pull and push you on his cock. 

His thrusts became animalistic as drool and precum dripped down your chin and chest. He started grunting, and his thrusts became rougher, a telltale sign that he was about to come. You winced and closed your eyes, preparing to feel his hot salty cum fill your throat or splatter on your face, but he pulled out altogether. Bereft and dazed, you looked up at him to see him pull you up by your arms and manhandle you like a ragdoll on the table. 

He lay you flat on your back and stripped off your pants and panties. He turned you on one side and pushed your hips closer till you were folded in a fetal position. "You okay?" He gasped, and you tapped your own thigh, out of your mind already. "Use your words," he said sternly. 

"'m okay," you mumbled. He straightened again. "I'm gonna give you 20 spanks and then I'm gonna fuck you. You're not allowed to tap out unless you feel there's any harm to the baby. You got that?"  

"Yes, sir," you slurred, floating in your subspace. 

He propelled your body slightly forward as he landed his first hard spank on your ass. You whimpered and continued to take it on your limp body, jolting forward with every spank that landed on your cheeks. After your punishment was done, you were sure that your bottom was going to be flaming red. He placed a firm palm on your upper thigh, rolling it slightly forward so that your puffy lips were better visible to him. 

"Wet already, hmm?" He said as he tested your pussy with two fingers. "That's good enough," he grunted as he shoved himself into you and immediately set a brutal pace. A long whine of pain and pleasure left you the moment he entered you roughly. You stretched out one hand to grab the edge of the table you were on, afraid that the table might snap if its violent shaking at Steve's thrusts was any indication.

“Don’t. Ever. Do. That. To. Me. Ever. Again, got that?” Steve punched out each word in tandem with his thrusts. His balls and thighs slapped against the back of yours, and if you'd been a little more conscious, you would have squealed at his onslaught. Mad with rage as he was, you trusted him to still be in control fully and never do anything to put you in harm's way. Even in punishment, you felt safe, not feeling the need to tap out; safe in the knowledge that your husband and the father of your child was safe and back with you, punishing you because he cared for you. 

He got you cock drunk on his thrusts, and your head felt like it was full of cotton and the word 'safe' was pinging inside it. You lolled your head back and surrendered your body to your Captain. One of his fingerless glove-covered palms cupped your mound, the texture abrasive against your soft skin while his fingers teased your clit. You shuddered and made a few guttural noises as you couldn't hold it in, but you dared not cum unless he allowed you. 

"Did so well. Took the punishment like a champ. Let go honey, you can cum," he panted through the exertion of working your body over. White hot bliss filled your entire being as your toes curled, and a flutter started up in your womb and shuddered through you. It caught him, too, and he moaned as he soldiered through it until he spurted, spent and sated. He collapsed next to you, gently pulled himself out, and rolled you over to inspect you.  

You were still blissed out and limp. Steve dressed you and lifted you in his arms, cooing at you and stroking your hair and face. “Let me see your pretty eyes, lovely,” he said as he stroked your tummy next. You whined and buried your face in his chest, still not ready to let go of the warm, fuzzy headspace you were in. Steve kissed your head and kept cooing and cuddling you as he sat on the table with you in his arms, waiting for Bucky to return. 

On the Quinjet back home, you stirred and sat up. Steve was still holding you and chatting with Bucky as the latter steered the plane back home. You propped yourself up and smiled at Steve, making him look down at you. You held your breath for a beat until his lips stretched out in a fond smile. “Hey, doll, there you are. How are you feeling?” 

A surge of relief went through you at the sight of his relaxed countenance. You dropped your cheek back to his chest, the coarse fabric of his uniform abrading your skin. You smiled to yourself, “Mmmm, all good. I see things are all good here, too?” You looked up and glanced between him and Bucky in the cockpit. 

Steve raised his eyebrows at you. “Yes. You know I had to keep my word after you were so good to me. Took the punishment so well,” you preened at that, but Steve frowned, “I’ve been waiting to check with you: how’s our bubs?” 

You rubbed your tummy fondly, “All snuggly and quiet in there. Looks like he’s scared of angry Daddy,” you pouted up at him. 

Steve’s frown deepened, and he pressed his lips together. “As he should. Doll, we need to talk about this.” Your back straightened, and you gulped, knowing what was to come. 

“What you did back there was brave. Brave, but extremely stupid. How am I supposed to rest knowing you can pull shit like that again? How can I trust you not to do it again? I’ll not stop short of tying you to our bed before I leave for a mission. Or have FRIDAY bar you from leaving the compound. Thought I told you not to do anything stupid until I got back, huh? Didn’t I?"

You looked down as you played with your fingers, pouting. “Yes, you did, Steve. I was just worried. I know how you get on the field. You’re one to talk about brave and stupid. You’re reckless, too!”

“Hmmm looks like I’m gonna have to fix that mouth when we get back,” he narrowed his eyes at you with a light slap to your ass. You winced, “after I put some aloe on this ass,” he added. You said nothing, knowing it’ll only make matters worse for you if you did. Steve sighed and spoke again, “Doll, I get it. But you have to know, with our little one on the way, I want to be careful too. I want to come home to both of you. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna pull my punches or stop trying to do my duty. I’m trying to find a balance here. And you have to trust the team, we’ve got the best people, and we’ve always got each other’s backs. But I promise I’ll be careful. Can you promise me you’ll be careful too? You’ve got two lives to care about. It’s not just you anymore.”

“That’s fair, Steve,” you whispered. “I promise, too. This won’t happen again. I’ll be careful.”

“You better,” Steve warned, but he gave you a small smile and gathered you close. He kissed your forehead, “You two are my world. I’ll always protect you.”

You smiled back, cuddled him, and fell back asleep. All was right in your world, now that your Captain had briefed you about your mission (to keep baby Rogers safe).

fin   

✪ A/N2: Whew! Love protective Angry Dom Steve 🥵 I do not regret my actions.

I'd love to hear from you all about this fic! I could use feedback since I am coming back to writing after a long break.