Bucky never thought he’d have the chance to get his life back after everything he’d gone through, and he hardly expected to be able to find himself worthy of love again.

But of course, he was proved wrong. You were in his life, and now Bucky was going to get a family. A child. He was going to be a father. He was terrified when you broke the news; he could hardly imagine being capable of taking care of such a fragile and tiny baby, but you’d assured him time and time again that he was the most gentle person you knew, and soon, fear made way for excitement… Alongside lots of worry.

And he really did prove that. His hands on your belly were steady and cautious, he held you with such tender care that it was as if he were touching thin porcelain. You weren’t even showing yet, and he was already preparing - researching cots and clothes, book after book about taking care of a newborn. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was already setting up a college fund the moment those two lines showed up on that test.

He already worried too much over you before your pregnancy, but now his protective attitude was in full swing. Anything that required the smallest amounts of effort, and he was immediately at your side to take over, despite your insistent protests. ’I don’t want you over-exerting yourself, Sweetheart.’ You could hardly turn over in bed without Bucky shooting up to help you out.

If being at home wasn’t bad enough, Bucky was truly the epitome of anxiety out in public. His eyes constantly darted around, scoping out every exit and hazard, he placed himself closest to the road as you walked down the street, and he never left your side. You were carrying his child, he’d be damned if he had you out of his sight for even a millisecond.

However, he knew he couldn’t watch over you 24/7, and you were still your own person with independence and the capability to handle yourself, so he reluctantly stepped away for you to wander the different aisles of the grocery store you’d gone to as Bucky did the same a few aisles down.

Bucky had returned to you to ask for a reminder of your most recent craving so he could get what you needed, but his jaw clenched tight at the view in front of him.

He could see the discomfort on your face as a stranger shuffled closer to you, with incessant one-sided conversation, and the question of whether you were single had him immediately beside you.

He only needed to send a deadly glare to the stranger before they were cautiously slinking away, muttering a few apologies, and Bucky huffed softly.

“Asshole.” He grunted, sliding an arm around your waist as his hand found itself straight on your stomach, unconsciously shielding you from anyone else wanting to try their luck.