#fictional dad

Hello, I am James Buchanan Barnes, you've probably heard about me already, under the name "winter soldier".

Well, I'm not that man anymore. I've recovered and decided that maybe I needed to do something "good" for other people, with the help of my friend, Steve Rogers.

You can call me Bucky, but also daddy/daddy Bucky/dada/papa or whatever feels best for you.

Feel free to dm me or text in my ask box of you need a caregiver, if you have any questions, need a bit of comfort or want to talk about your day.

I'm getting better at this technology thing, but sometimes I might need a bit of patience to answer every ask or message, so Steve will help me too.

You're clearly free to ask for who you wanna talk to when texting us, kiddo.

I think it's clear enough that this is a kiddo/pet space only, so I don't want any nsfw or triggering interaction here, this is a safe space for anyone who needs a bit of comfort, ya'll can go be pervs somewhere else.

That being said, I'll wait for you, little ones, and try my best to cheer up your days.

Have fun and stay safe, kiddos. Bucky loves you

hes so pretty and awesome!!!

When Bucky told you he'd have to work with Steve in a mission for a few days, you'd said that you would be fine.

You could take care of yourself, you were sure you weren't gonna regress, sure you wouldn't get yourself in trouble. And you seemed convinced, so he didn't make a big deal out of it.

The first day went great: you went to work, cleaned around the house, got out with your friends after dinner and showered before going to bed. He had called you, you told him about your day and both of you went to sleep content. The second day was a bit more difficult, but still manageble. You had breakfast, but forgot your lunch on the table before leaving, and when you started eating dinner, Bucky called, and by the end of the call you forgot to finish your plate. The third day, your body was too tired to get out of the bed at all, and you only managed to clean the dinner table before collapsing again. When Bucky called, you assured him you were fine, just a bit tired, but adult. He told you that was great, because he was gonna go no contact for a bit since the area him and Steve were reaching didn't have signal. So you didn't hear from him for another few days, and the situation escalated. Your pain hit you worse than usual today, and not having Bucky there to help was really hard. Slowly, without even realizing, you slipped into little space, turning into a bundle of whines and cries and little kicks on the sheets. Bucky had called to tell you he was gonna come back that night, but you didn't reply, too small to register any sound out of the little bubble that was your bed. You were ashamed- Bucky had said he was so proud that you were all big now- but couldn't pull yourself out of that headspace for more than a few minutes. So when Bucky came in and found you all bundled up in the covers, achy, whiny and so, so small, his heart melted. He knelt down to your height, brushing your hair out of your face

"hi, sweetheart. How are we feeling today? You look so tiny" he smiled. You opened your eyes, rubbing them with your fists as you babbled something without meaning. Still half asleep, you felt a pair of strong arms picking you up and carrying you to the kitchen, and before you could react, a warm bottle of milk was resting between your lips. Bucky was whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and you were closing your eyes again. Bucky kissed the top of your head before pulling the bottle out of your mouth and making you bounce a bit. "Shh, don't worry kiddo, papa's here right now. Let's go to sleep, mhm?"