Author: @coveredamity, writing for @totheendofthelinepal
A/N: Angst and fluff. not my best one, but for the pregnant feels. This may or may not also be an epilogue to a 40s!Bucky WIP in my drafts.
You sighed heavily as you stared out the amber glow of Brooklyn meeting dusk. Here you were again, as like every morning of everyday since you met him. A soft breeze wafted into his apartment, making the hairs on your skin stick up to the ends. Your thin, silk nighties were the only few clothes you often leave here, they weren’t much, but he liked the reminder of you whenever you weren’t here.
The soft sound of the sheets rustling moved your attention to the center of the room. There he laid quietly, legs entangled in the messed-up sheets as a reminder of the events from last night.
“God, is he beautiful. How am I supposed to tell him now?” You thought. You sighed once again and rested your forehead on your palm.
You’re a nurse, how the fuck did you not know you were pregnant? How could you have been so irresponsible for this to happen? The world may be different at 1943, but you and Bucky were not engaged to be married. Society wouldn’t open their arms to you, you would be shunned. The world is at war, and there were full lengths of service ahead for you. But you let yourself be in love with another one of these soldiers, just like every other foolish girl who gets charmed by a uniform, bright smile, and a beautiful pair of eyes.
But you couldn’t deny that every time he held you close or touched you at night, and whispered sweet nothings, along with promises you hoped he would keep -- you fell deeply, and endlessly in love with him. How could you not, when he professed nothing but his--
“Love? What are you doing there, it’s cold. Come ‘ere, let me hold you.” His voice soft and raspy.
You dropped your hands from your face, and stepped slowly to the bed, “Just thinking,” you muttered as you slipped into the sheets and buried your face into the crook of his neck.
“What about?” His lips resting on the top of your head and looked down as you twiddled your fingers with the hem of blanket
“Just yesterday,” you sighed.
How could you do this now? The moment you say it, you could lose him forever. Right now was just too good -- your face buried in his chest, his arms wrapped around you engulfing you in his warmth, and his soft lips rested on your forehead. You feel small and vulnerable around him, and as though nothing could ever hurt you. But not telling him makes your heart ache.
“Yesterday? What about?” he murmurs as his fingertips feather across arm.
You were breathing too hard, panic was consuming you, you could almost cry. You curled up into a smaller ball under his arms and buried your face into his chest even more.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You’re breakin’ my heart not tellin’ me right now.” Bucky tucked your hair behind your ear.
“I’m sorry, Bucky.” you whimpered
“Sorry?” he breathed out in confusion, “Darlin’, what happened yesterday? You had worried me sick, I didn’t know where you were. Please tell me.” he pleaded
Anxiety was devouring you, there was nothing but fright in your body. You pushed the sheets off yourself and stood up.
“I’m so sorry, Bucky. I don’t know how this happened. I... I-” you sobbed as you paced back and forth next to the window again hoping the air would make your nerves subside.
The sight of Brooklyn awakening outside looked calming, stopping to look at it relaxes you immediately. Small tears fell down your face as you sniffled quietly. You felt Bucky walk slowly towards you, his hand cradled your jaw to wipe a tear away with his thumb. He rested his forehead on your temple and softly kisses your cheeks.
“I was at the hospital yesterday.” You whispered blankly keeping our eyes out the window.
“Did they move your duties there?” Mumbling, but his lips not parting from your skin.
You closed your eyes and shook your head no, “I had a check-up.”
You opened your eyes to look up at him, “Bucky,” your voice wavered. You sighed and looked into his beautiful eyes, “I’m pregnant.”
Bucky blinked at you, his expression was enigmatic, your panic beginning to swell up again.
“You are?” he breathed with a grin creeping up his face.
You blinked up at him in disbelief, “You’re happy?”
Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his nose with yours, “I’m over the moon,” he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose.
His eyes were rimmed red, but he laughed as he knelt down and nestled his face on your abdomen.
Tears streamed down your face. This was more than what you expected from him, you thought the future ahead of you was ruined. But here he was, the most beautiful man in the Army on his knees crying with joy as he kissed the most important creation that would bind you together.
“Oh god, I love you.” he muttered on your belly.
You ran your fingers through his hair and knelt down with him, cradling his jaw to pull him for a deep kiss.
Bucky holds you to his chest, “My strong and brave girl,” he murmurs. “I’m going to take care of you, and god I knew that buying that ring yesterday was--”
You lifted you head from his hold, and looked up at him.
He chuckled and shook his head not believing how quick this was all happening, “If you’ll have me,”
“Bucky...” you whispered.
“-- to have each other for a lifetime and forever.” his voice soft, thumb feathering the outline of your lips, “Please be Mrs. Barnes.”
Your tears were inescapable, “Yes,” you sobbed. “Yes, yes, yes. I will. I do.”
He sighed happily and engulfed you once more in his embrace.
The rest of the day was spent in bed talking, canoodling, and Bucky more than often lifting your silk nightie so he could kiss your very small bump.
The week after, James Buchanan Barnes was married. The following month, he was shipped out to London with the 107th Infantry Regiment. Two years later, Sergeant Barnes was killed in action after falling off a speeding train in the Swiss Alps.
