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Shorteralls




The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. Steve was, and still is, absolutely tiny; five-foot nil at most, and at that moment, he might have been 120 or 130 pounds. Bucky could have easily picked him up and carried him, at least for a short distance but that was more of a comment on Bucky’s then endurance than Steve’s size. And at the very moment that Bucky first saw him, he was standing to one of the school’s football players, a student affectionately nicknamed Thor for his pure Viking godly resemblance. So, next to a man that was 6’6” and 250 pounds, Steve appeared truly tiny. It had been hot out and he’d been wearing high-waisted jean shorts that were ripped, very used but still bright red All-Stars, and a baggy crop top. His back had been to Bucky, more importantly, he’d been leaning on the shoulders of a seated friend, so his ass was stuck out just a little. Bucky had seen him from a slight distance, the freckles covering his exposed back and the way the pockets of his shorts framed his perfect heart-shaped bottom and Bucky’s first thought had been I’d love to fuck him.

 

But, of course, Bucky immediately scolded himself mentally for thinking that because it was, as stated, a very primitive first impression and that boy, as he'd been unyet aware of Steve’s name, deserved better than to be considered a lovely ass to fuck by a passing stranger. Worse yet, they were on a college campus, Steve had clearly been a student, and Bucky was a teacher. He had to hold himself to much higher standards. 

 

So that particular day, Bucky had just kept walking. He did pass Steve and the group he’d been with and did glance briefly at his face, just in time to catch him in a laugh and Bucky remembered thinking that he was otherwise aesthetically gorgeous and had freckles across his nose and cheeks as well as his back, and then he was walking into his building to teach a class and the brief first glimpse he’d had of Steve was out of his mind.

 

The very next time he’d seen Steve had been a few weeks later. It had also been a passing glance, though Bucky had spent longer looking at him to figure out where he’d seen him before. Steve had initially been facing him, they’d been in a nearby mall food court, and no one really noticed Bucky looking at Steve. Steve had been with someone else, Bucky couldn’t remember who or what they’d been doing, but when they turned to go, Bucky had gotten an excellent view of Steve’s back. Upon seeing him from that angle, Bucky instantly recognized him. Or his ass. It had lead to another mental beration for looking at a stranger’s assets, though it had been followed by wondering about Steve and how old he was. Bucky had been 29 at the time, he was really just a grad student himself, and it might not have been too bad to consider Steve attractive if he hadn't been much younger.

 

The third time Bucky saw Steve, he actually learned his name. He’d had his arm twisted into trying speed dating, and lo and behold, there was Steve, at the event. Not to speed date, Bucky, unfortunately, found out, he just worked at the restaurant the event was hosted at. Bucky ended up abandoning speed dating to sit at the bar to chat with him. Bucky learned that he was an art student, was close to finishing his BA, was an Omega but wore scent-blockers because too many people questioned his designation and gender combination, and was 22. After that, Bucky figured perhaps Steve was too young for him. But at the end of the night, he found a note slipped into his pocket from Steve, with his number and a challenge to give him a call. Bucky had reasoned, if Steve didn’t think he was too old, then it must have been fine.

 

So he’d called him. Steve had said he’d actually expected Bucky to text first and Bucky admitted he’d been tempted. The conversation lasted about 30 minutes and by the end of it, Bucky was solidly in “like” with him, as the kids said. That phone call spawned texts, then more calls, then daily texts, then daily calls, and then Steve asked in the middle of a conversation when Bucky was going to ask him on a date and Bucky found himself having coffee with Steve every single Sunday night. Coffee on Sundays became dinner on Sundays, then dinner at Bucky’s apartment on Sundays, and then Bucky accidentally let slip what he’d thought the very first time he saw him and Steve instead of laughing it off, looked him in the eye and smirked and said: “Why don’t you find out?”

 

And that, Bucky would never tell their kids, was how dinner at his place Sunday night lead to breakfast at his place Monday morning. Every Monday. And then some Saturdays, some Sundays, sometimes, Friday to Monday. And then it was summer, and Steve admitted that he didn’t want to go home for the summer, and Bucky had just blurted “So stay with me.” 

 

That had worked out beautifully, there were times Bucky didn’t even let Steve out of bed, almost as many times that Steve didn’t let Bucky out of bed. And then, the fall was coming up and Steve said “Seniors don’t actually have to live on campus,” to which Bucky replied, “Please don’t live on campus,” and Steve had kissed him and promised to stay.

 

Somewhere around finals, Bucky found himself wandering jewelry stores. Not only was Steve graduating, but Bucky was completing his Ph.D. and becoming an adjunct professor instead of a grad-student teacher and that felt very adult to Bucky. About a week before graduation, he talked to a financial advisor, did some quick planning, and bought a ring. Immediately after getting home with it, Bucky had panicked and hid it because, being a moron, he was afraid of Steve saying no. Being more of a moron, he only hid it in his sock drawer, inside the packaging from the shop, with the receipt still shoved next to the velvet box. Being the biggest of morons, Bucky didn’t notice that not only had Steve found it, but had been wearing it until the day of graduation.

 

“Uh,” Bucky had started, bug-eyed and pointing at the diamond Steve was sporting. “Honey? What –?”

“You’re the biggest of morons,” Steve informed promptly. “I’ve been wearing this for three weeks waiting for you to notice.”

 

“That’s a yes?” Bucky replied dumbly.

 

“Again, moron,” Steve pointed out, and then he’d kissed him. “Duh.”

 

Bucky still likes to think that he never technically proposed. Steve still tells him he’s a moron, which is fair, but recently, a case could be made for Steve being as much, if not more, of an oblivious moron. This is what happened. 

 

They got married in August. Bucky began his first year as an adjunct professor and Steve started work as an illustrator for a very nice publishing company; mostly he does children’s books. Shortly into his first term as an adjunct professor, Bucky was offered the opportunity to teach a half-semester at Oxford, which would pay twice his salary and shrink the amount of time until tenure. Plus, it was Oxford. When bringing it up with Steve, Bucky was initially hesitant to accept since Steve had just started his dream job, but Steve waved off his concerns. 

 

“It’s half a semester,” he’d said, “you go, have the opportunity of a lifetime, I’ll stay here and we’ll Skype all the time.”

 

“Half a semester is still three months,” Bucky complained.

 

“It’s Oxford, ” Steve said with exasperation. “You’ve been talking about how much it would mean for you to teach at Oxford since I met you.”

 

Steve had been right, of course. Long-distance would be tough but doable. So in February, after Valentine’s Day Bucky managed to work out, he left for England and left his Omega in New York. It was surprisingly not so bad. The first few days felt like he’d had a hole ripped out of his chest and he wallowed in guilt and worry that he was being entirely selfish or that they’d grow apart. Then after a few weeks, Steve was proven right (yes, as usual), and Bucky started properly enjoying teaching at Oxford. At any rate, Bucky got to go back for spring break, which meant he only had about five weeks without his babydoll at a time.

 

But Steve was being the greater of the two of them at being oblivious. Bucky might not have noticed Steve wearing his engagement ring for three weeks, but that had all been in the middle of finals and he’d been frantically putting together the last of his Ph.D. requirements. Steve, on the other hand, didn’t really think there was any cause for concern when during spring break, he was constantly nauseous. 

 

“What do you mean, this has been going on for weeks?” Bucky had demanded.

 

“I’m getting migraines,” Steve said dismissively. “I take some Tylenol and drink a lot of water and I’m fine.”

 

Bucky had still not been happy. Despite the fact that it had happened before. He very grumpily coddled Steve through drinking even more water and ridding the pantry of any migraine-triggering foods.

 

“No, not the ramen!” Steve whined when Bucky pitched it.

 

“It’s full of sodium!” Bucky retorted. “I don’t know how it works, but it causes headaches!”

 

Steve pouted. Bucky had, by then, grown some resistance to his pout.

 

“You’re not getting me to budge on junk food,” he’d said firmly. “You’re my sweet and precious babydoll and I will not stand idly by while you have awful headaches because you like cheap noodles.”

“You’re using my care kink against me,” Steve continued whining.

 

“Unapologetically,” Bucky answered. “I’m throwing out the ramen and that’s final.”

 

“Then I’ve been a good boy and I get a treat?” Steve said cheerfully.

 

“Yes,” Bucky immediately had agreed.

 

(Treats are, for Steve at least, spending quality time with his nose either in Bucky’s pubic hair or tucked under his balls. In other words, cock warming or worship. Bucky considers himself luckier than a 5-leaf clover, yes.)

 

After spring break was over and Bucky returned to Oxford, he expected some improvement with Steve’s migraines. He did extensive reading on the subject and talked Steve through all of the best tips. However, a few weeks went by and Steve’s nausea did not improve. He actually got worse, though, for the most part, Bucky had to coax it out of him; he was notoriously awful at paying attention to his health. The change to his diet did nothing, he started getting fatigued, started gaining weight, his fidgeting got worse, though only Bucky noticed that, and then he told Bucky that he’d had trouble sleeping the past few nights and Bucky got legitimately worried.

 

“Go to a doctor,” he’d begged. “Like, right now.”

 

“I don’t need to go to the ER,” Steve had replied. “But!” he’d added when Bucky opened his mouth. “I’ll call and make an appointment.”

 

“Promise?” Bucky asked him.

 

“Promise,” Steve insisted. “Does that make me a good boy?”

 

His libido was, clearly, unaffected. 

 

“Definitely,” Bucky had said, less worried by then.

 

The doctor’s visit took a week to happen, which was eight days more than Bucky liked. At that point, he was preparing for finals, reviewing material with his students, and furiously grading quizzes. The night after Steve’s appointment, Bucky neglected a few papers in order to talk with him more about what had happened during it.

 

“They’re running tests, but Doc’s not really concerned,” Steve insisted. “He actually thinks I might be depressed ‘cause you’re away and my nesting period's probably started.”

 

“Are you?” Bucky demanded, twice as worried.

 

Steve grimaced a little. “You’ll be home in a few weeks, anyway.”

 

“Steve,” Bucky said, resisting the urge to pull out his hair, “I will get on a plane right now if you need me, baby, Oxford can suck its own dick, I’ll come home –”

 

“I’m not that depressed!” Steve cut him off, at least smiling at him. “Seriously! Sure, I miss you, yes, it’s tough, but we agreed you needed to do this!”

 

“Baby,” Bucky muttered a little hopelessly.

 

Steve had just touched the screen just below his webcam. “I’m okay,” he’d insisted. “Really. Just, don’t dawdle in getting home, okay?”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Bucky said.

 

And then three days later, Steve answered their nightly Skype call looking sheepish.

 

“Baby,” Bucky just started.

 

“Don’t be mad,” Steve started, then giggled a little at himself, “but – See –”

Baby, ” Bucky repeated frustratedly. “Did you eat something with lots of sodium? It’s not good for you!”

“Not that,” Steve said quickly, waving his hands. “Not that at all. No, it’s not been migraines and I am a little depressed but –”

 

Baby! ” Bucky gasp-whined.

 

“That,” Steve then said. “Yeah. That.”

 

Bucky had stopped, blinked, frowned, sat up, and frowned some more. “Pardon?” he’d said.

 

“I, uh,” Steve started, laughing a little again. “I’m pregnant?”

Which had not been what Bucky had been expecting at all.  

 

“And I might be pretty far along,” Steve had said then, half-grimacing and half-grinning. “Like… Nineteen weeks…”

 

“Baby,” Bucky had said in a strangled croak.

 

Steve had still been half-grimacing, half-grinning, and then he reached over to the side of the laptop and picked up something that flopped and wobbled audibly. He had held it up for Bucky to see and Bucky was of the opinion that no, Skype, the quality of his video call was not good enough, because nothing but seeing the ultrasound printout Steve was holding up in person could have been satisfactory.

 

“I’m pregnant,” Steve had repeated. “Say something.”

 

“I’m coming home,” Bucky said something. “Is it a boy or a girl? Are you eating enough? You’re not walking to work, right? Please don’t tell me you’re walking anywhere alone, you’re tiny and gorgeous and pregnant – !”

 

Steve had cut him off with a litany of his name and some hey’s. “I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl,” he answered the first question, “I wanted to wait until you were here.”

“I’m booking a flight now,” Bucky added, opening Chrome on his laptop.

 

“No!” Steve whined. “You’re at Oxford! And you only have two weeks left, Buck –”

 

“Fuck Oxford, my baby’s pregnant with my baby!” Bucky said.

 

“I’ll still be pregnant in two weeks!” Steve laughed. “You promised me you’d do this. Please?”

 

“You’re pregnant,” Bucky whimpered.

 

“It’s twelve days,” Steve reasoned.

 

Bucky pouted. Steve was much better at resisting pouts.

 

“You have twelve days left,” he repeated, “and I’m only, like, nineteen weeks?”

 

“That’s half a pregnancy!” Bucky blurted.

 

“I barely have a bump!” Steve insisted, then shoved back the laptop and his chair and got up. “Look!”

 

He raised his shirt, turning to the side. Steve had always had a curve to his stomach, but Bucky was an engineering professor, he knew the curve of his husband’s tummy.

 

“You’ve grown!” he protested. “That’s not barely a bump!”

 

“I think that’s baby weight,” Steve said with a wrinkling of his nose.

 

Bucky clapped his hands together under his nose. “It’s a bump and I love you and I adore you and I’m coming home.”

 

“After finals!” Steve countered, dropping his shirt. “You owe it to your students, if not yourself!”

“Baby,” Bucky whined.

 

“Twelve days,” Steve insisted.

 

Steve always wins arguments. That was two weeks ago. Bucky collects the final final exam and just breathes in relief.

 

“Have a good summer!” he calls to everyone, throwing his shit in his briefcase on his way out the door. 

 

“Where’s the fire, Prof?” someone shouts behind him.

 

“Plane to catch!” Bucky just says.

 

He’ll grade the exams from New York, but he’s done in London, he’s done with Oxford, his Omega is home pregnant and has been since New Year’s. Bucky is a bit of a nervous wreck all the way to the airport, through security, through boarding, and through the takeoff. He intends to grade papers on the plane, except he falls asleep. 

 

Someone pokes him awake what feels like moments later. Bucky jerks and blinks and the flight attendant smiles generically at them.

 

“We’re landing, sir,” they say, “please put your seatbelt on.”

 

“Right,” Bucky mutters, fumbling with it.

 

The plane lands. Bucky disembarks with everyone else in a bit of a daze. Steve had wanted to meet him at the airport, but Bucky had insisted that a public place with lots of people watching would prevent him from kissing Steve the way he’d want to; Steve had agreed to that. Bucky gets his bags, hails a taxi, and vibrates in his seat all the way home.

 

“Thanks,” he says to the driver, forking over a good tip. “My Omega’s pregnant, wish us luck!”

 

“Good luck!” the driver calls after him. “Hey, your bags!”

 

Bucky runs back and gets them. The driver laughs him off.

 

Somehow, Bucky gets upstairs. He unlocks their front door, gets inside, and drops his shit right there. The apartment smells like so many batches of sugar cookies and Bucky is instantly addicted. Steve normally smells like gingerbread, and he’s heard that an Omega’s scent mellows out during pregnancy, but he hadn't been expecting such a drastic and delicious change. Bucky immediately shuts and locks the door, not wanting anyone to catch a whiff of his Omega. He dumps his keys, phone, and wallet onto the coffee table first. There’s music coming from the spare bedroom and he heads straight there.

 

Steve is inside, a hand on his stomach and the other raised with a paintbrush, wide leaves appearing from his hand with almost no effort. Bucky’s breath is just taken away. Steve is wearing short overalls that highlight his ass, just like the very first time he ever saw him.

 

“Baby,” Bucky just says.

 

Steve turns around, drops his paintbrush, and runs up to Bucky with a squeal. Bucky catches him and scoops him off his feet, arms tight around him, and buries his nose in Steve’s hair right away to inhale his wonderful scent.

 

“I thought you were gonna call when you landed!” Steve mumbles into Bucky’s shoulder.

 

“Forgot,” Bucky admits. “Let me look at you.”

 

He puts Steve down and grabs his shoulders, taking a step back. Steve flushes a gorgeous shade of pink and Bucky immediately looks at his midsection. 

 

“Hardly a bump,” he mutters a little mockingly. “Fucking hell, sweetheart.”

 

Bucky drops to his knees and frames Steve’s stomach in his hands. The front of his overalls don’t even reach his chest, they strain to contain his swollen belly. Steve’s wearing one of Bucky's shirts under it, and it's scrunched up at the sides to fit in his shorts, but the front’s bulging a little over his chest. His tits are filling out already. 

 

“Fuck,” Bucky repeats, sliding his hands from the denim to Steve’s thighs, where he can touch skin. “You’re pregnant.”

 

“Lil’ bit,” Steve mumbles.

 

Bucky glances up, grinning, then presses forward and kisses his belly. “I got you pregnant,” he says quietly. “My babydoll’s carryin’ my baby.”

 

Steve presses his hands over Bucky’s. “I’m pregnant,” he just repeats. “And it’s been five weeks since you fucked me last, Bucky, don’t make me wait for it anymore –”

 

Bucky surges up and kisses Steve on the mouth hard. Steve grabs him by the shirt and moans into his mouth, standing on his toes to get closer. Bucky keeps his hands on Steve’s stomach, Steve’s pregnant belly, and pulls him in until they’re touching in the middle. 

 

“Fuck, you’re makin’ me so hot,” Bucky gasps, feeling the swell of Steve’s stomach. “Baby, you’re pregnant. You got my baby in you.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Steve answers breathlessly, “fuck me, Buck, c’mon, I need it!”

 

“Yeah,” Bucky just agrees. “Yeah, shit, babydoll, bedroom.”

 

Steve keeps kissing him as they stumble out of the spare room and into the living room. Bucky shoves him up against the wall, intentionally gentle, and drops to his knees again to kiss Steve’s belly. Steve just whines and tugs on his shirt to pull him back up, captures his mouth in a kiss, and starts tugging him towards their room. Bucky can’t take his hands off Steve’s belly, he can’t stop imagining which time it was that did it; Bucky worked from home all of January and the first week of the year, Steve had off, so they’d fucked almost constantly that whole week.

 

No wonder he knocked Steve up around that time.

 

“I’ve been insanely horny the past few days,” Steve says against Bucky’s mouth. “I haven’t changed the sheets –”

 

Bucky pushes Steve onto the bed and shoves him onto his back. “Good,” he says, “you know like it when you get our bed all wet, sugar.”

 

Steve whines and scrambles up the bed on his back, the fabric of his overalls riding up his soft thighs and catching in the crack of his ass. Bucky rips off his jacket and throws it somewhere towards the bathroom, then his tie, tugs his shirt out of his slacks, and just yanks it up over his head to abandon it to the floor. Steve whimpers at the sight of him.

 

“God,” Steve murmurs, “fuck me –”

 

“Fuck, yeah,” Bucky promises, “but baby, you can’t tell me you’ve forgotten your manners.”

 

"I don't care!" Steve retorts. "Help me out of this, Daddy?"

 

Steve pouts at Bucky in a very convincing way. Bucky laughs a little and pulls Steve up into a sitting position, then pops the straps of his overalls for him.

 

"You been wearing your Daddy's clothes a lot lately, sweetheart?" Bucky asks as he bunches up the overlarge shirt Steve's drowning in.

 

"I missed you," Steve admits, leaning into Bucky. "A lot."

 

"I know," Bucky coos, "poor thing, all alone with a baby growin' in you and I had t'a stay away so long. It's alright now, I'm here."

 

Steve ducks forward and nuzzles Bucky's stomach, rubbing against his solar plexus. Bucky pulls the shirt off over his head and the overall straps fall around his waist.

 

"Lookit'chu," Bucky says in awe, pushing Steve back by his shoulders. "Fuck, sweetheart, don't you look so gorgeous like this? Look at this beautiful little belly."

 

Steve blushes furiously. Bucky kneels and peels his overalls away, exposing his swollen stomach to Bucky's view. Steve has always been thin, but now he curves out neatly, enough that as Bucky spreads his hands over his waist and touches his fingertips behind his back, his thumbs barely reach around Steve's waist. He has a few pink stretch marks below his navel and by his hips, and Bucky sees the lines of more growing on his small tits, which might even fill up an A cup already.

 

"You're gorgeous," Bucky repeats, pressing a kiss to Steve's navel, which is poking out already. "You got no idea how gorgeous you look like this, how fuckin' sweet you smell, baby, fuck ––"

 

"Daddy, c'mon," Steve whines, dropping back on the bed to lift up his ass. "I'm not wearing underwear, Daddy –"

 

" Shit, " Bucky exhales, grabbing the legs of Steve's overalls; he yanks them off, helps Steve get his feet untangled, then, impulsive, he bunches them up and presses his nose to them, inhaling deeply. "Shit," he murmurs again. " Fuck. "

 

"Daddy!" Steve whines reprovingly. "I'm right here!"

 

Bucky laughs and tosses the overalls away. He grabs Steve's ankles, puts his feet on the bed, spread apart, and takes his hips in his hands again. Eye-level with Steve's ass, Bucky leans in and presses his nose against Steve's taint, inhaling deeply there instead. His slick has always smelled intoxicating, now it smells like heat, but somehow better. Some rational part of Bucky's mind says it's probably so he'll be inclined to get Steve pregnant again after this baby. His lizard brain insists that Bucky knot his pretty Omega and have Steve live on it.

 

"Fuck," Steve whimpers softly.

 

"Holy Mary, mother of God," Bucky murmurs. "Babydoll, you smell so fucking good like this."

 

"Fuck me," Steve demands. "C'mere!"

 

Bucky stands up, puts a knee on the bed, and folds over Steve to kiss him. Steve grabs his face and arches off the bed to kiss back, whining softly. Bucky breaks the kiss after a second, drags his lips down Steve's jaw to his neck, and seeks out his scent gland. Like sugar, just like sugar.

 

"Need you in me," Steve gasps. "Been forever, Daddy, c'mon!"

 

"Whatever you want, babydoll," Bucky promises. "But lemme taste you first."

 

Steve just whines. Bucky drops back off the bed, kneels, and spreads Steve's ass open by pushing on the soft parts of his inner thighs. He exposes Steve's pretty pink asshole, and without any further hesitation, he dives in. He licks right across Steve's hole, pauses to suck on the taste on his tongue, groans, and digs his tongue in again. Steve cries out as Bucky forces his tongue in, he cants his hips out and clenches down like a vice. Bucky sucks on his rim, groans into his skin, and twists and plunges his tongue as deep as he can get it. He makes his jaw start to ache and digs his fingers into Steve's thighs, trying to get deeper. Steve's cunt tastes like browned sugar and butter, which is fucking delicious. 

 

"Daddy," Steve whines, "you gotta gimme your cock, please, I'll be good, please, just let me have your cock!"

 

Bucky scrapes his teeth against Steve's rim, then pulls back and smacks his lips. Steve's hole is a wet, puffy mess; reddened and leaking slick by the second. Bucky wipes his mouth off, then stands and undoes his belt as quick as he can. The buckle jangles and Steve lets out a euphoric gasp.

 

"Finally," he sighs, "Daddy, please, just put it in me, I can take it, I promise!"

 

"Sweetheart, you're not that loose," Bucky says with a chuckle.

 

"I don't care," Steve insists, his eyes a bit wild. "Please, I don't care if it hurts, I need it!"

 

Bucky laughs again and stops undoing his pants to push a finger into Steve's hole. Steve whines and clenches, rocking back to fuck himself on Bucky's finger.

 

"You're too tight, baby," Bucky says. "But you'll open up easy, don't worry."

 

"Please," Steve just whines again.

 

Bucky grins at him and, swirling his finger in Steve's hole, he uses his other hand to pop open his slacks and shove them down his hips. Steve bites his lip looking at him, pushes his arms up above his head and arches his back, showing off his belly. Bucky pulls his finger free for just a second, tugs his boxers down, and kicks off his clothes. 

 

"Daddy," Steve begs, "c'mon, hurry up!"

 

"Don't be greedy, baby," Bucky scolds half-heartedly. "You know what happens to greedy, impatient brats."

 

"Spank me, then," Steve retorts. "Just fuck me sometime this century!"

 

"Little shit," Bucky accuses, but he presses a finger back into Steve's cunt. "I'll spank you later."

 

Steve breaks into giggles. Bucky can't help but grin, too. He grabs his flat knot with his free hand, adds another finger into Steve's hole, and shoves his cock against Steve's belly.

 

"Yeah, mark me, Daddy," Steve begs, "I need your scent, gotta smell like you, need to."

 

"Yeah, I know," Bucky promises, still grinning as he drags the head of his cock down from Steve's navel to his groin. "You hafta smell like your Alpha knocked up like this, sweetheart, wouldn't do t'a leave you unmarked. Just anybody could an' try take you away from me, can't have that."

 

"Uh-uh," Steve agrees, "'m yours, Daddy."

 

"That's right," Bucky says bending over Steve to kiss his bump. "All mine."

 

Bucky rubs his cockhead against Steve's dick, over his ballsack, and down his taint. Steve whines and clenches on Bucky's fingers; poor thing's desperate. Bucky kisses his belly again, going up, and latches onto one of his nipples. Steve gasps, clenches again, and Bucky slips a third finger into him as he sucks on his tit.

 

"Gonna fill up," Bucky mumbles against Steve's chest, "be all soft, cutie pie, gonna need t'a get you some bras."

 

Steve just whines. Bucky pops off his tit and switches to the other one, scissoring his fingers. He fists his cock and rubs the tip along Steve's crease, smearing his pre-come into his skin and marking him with his scent. Bucky gently scrapes his teeth over Steve's nipple and massages his rim with the knuckle of his pinky.

 

"I'm loose, Daddy, c'mon," Steve demands again. "Gimme your cock, need it, need it now!"

 

"What's the magic word?" Bucky asks crooningly.

 

"Daddy!" Steve whines angrily. 

 

Bucky laughs, straightening, and pulls his fingers out to finally press his cock against Steve's rim. He doesn't push in, though, not yet. 

 

"C'mon," he coaxes, "what do good boys say to Daddy when they want something?"

 

Steve flushes pink all the way down to his gorgeous little tits.

 

"Please," he mumbles. 

 

Bucky grins down at him. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" he asks, and in just one motion, shoves his dick in completely to the hilt.

 

Steve howls and arches up, shoving his pregnant belly out and pressing his head back into the mattress to show off his throat. Bucky folds over him and starts sucking marks into his neck, giving special attention to his pinked-up scent gland, as Steve moans out a noise almost like a sob. Bucky immediately starts rolling his hips, but takes care to move slowly, just teasing him. He drags his teeth across Steve's scent gland and Steve whimpers under him. 

 

"Bite me," Steve blurts. "Bite me, Daddy, I want it, want it, bond me ––"

 

Bucky nips at a different part of his neck. "Not gonna do that for just anything, baby," he says. 

 

"No, I want it," Steve insists. "I got your baby in me, I want your bite on my neck, Buck, seriously, bite me."

 

Bucky props himself up on his elbows, hovering just over Steve. Steve looks at him, his eyes blown by his arousal, but they're clear. He nods. 

 

"I wanna be yours forever," he insists. "Please, Daddy?"

 

"We can't undo it," Bucky says nervously. 

 

Steve reaches up and cups his face, wrapping his fingers around his neck and holding him close. "Don't you want it, too?" he asks, his voice soft and shy.

 

"Baby, you know I do," Bucky insists quickly. "You know I love you, I love you more than anything in the world. I just want you to be sure."

 

Steve pulls him into a kiss. Bucky lets him keep it slow, languid, and he can't help but grind his hips into Steve's ass. Steve breaks off with a soft gasp, but Bucky stays right where he is. 

 

"Want it," Steve sighs. "Bond me, Daddy, make me yours."

 

Bucky lets out a low growl. He presses kisses down Steve's jaw, then nips at his earlobe.

 

"You are mine," he insists. 

 

"Then bite me," Steve begs. "Please?"

 

Bucky comes back to Steve's scent gland, just brushing his parted lips across it. He braces himself against the bed, plants his feet, and rocks his dick into Steve hard. Steve gasps, breathy, and Bucky licks his scent gland roughly.

 

"Mine," he rumbles. "My pregnant little Omega. You're mine."

 

"Bite me," Steve whines again, "Daddy, gimme your bite, bond me!"

 

Bucky scrapes his teeth across Steve's scent gland again, with a little more intent this time. He slams his hips against Steve's ass, rutting into him, and starts the headboard banging against the wall. Steve moans again, breathy and loud and beautiful, and Bucky drags his teeth hard over his scent gland.

 

"Yes!" Steve cries out. "C'mon, Daddy, gimme your bite, knot me, make me yours, Daddy, please!"

 

" Mine, " Bucky growls sharply, setting his heels and truly pounding Steve's cunt. "You're mine, my Omega, my pregnant, pretty baby, mine! "

 

"Yes!" Steve shouts. "Fuck, Daddy, fuck, knot me!"

 

Bucky grabs Steve's hip with one hand and the back of his neck with the other, holds him in place and fucks into him as fast and as hard as he can. The headboard continues banging. Steve is shouting almost, gasping for every thrust Bucky gives him. 

 

On the other side of the wall, someone bangs in protest. Bucky ignores it and positions himself to sink his teeth into Steve's scent gland, continues railing him and making the headboard hit the wall. Their neighbor bangs against the other side again.

 

"Fuck off!" Bucky shouts back.

 

Distantly, he hears their neighbor swearing at them. Bucky carries on ignoring them, though he does make the mental note to check the bolts on bedframe on tighten them.

 

"Daddy!" Steve gasps. "Daddy, I'm close, don't stop, don't stop!"

 

"Yeah?" Bucky pants. "Gonna come on Daddy's dick, wanna make me knot you?"

 

"Fuck, yeah," Steve whines, "c'mon, Daddy, gimme it!"

 

"Shit," Bucky growls, breathing hot on Steve's neck. "Come for me, babydoll, that's it, be a good Omega for Daddy –"

 

Steve shouts. His ass tightens up as his cock spurts between them. Bucky doesn't stop, he speeds up, and as Steve is gasping still, he sinks his teeth into his scent gland. 

 

Then, Steve screams. He screams nonsense and arches his neck and somehow gets tighter. Bucky fucks into him, slams the headboard on the wall, and pops his knot. He groans, his teeth still buried in Steve's scent gland, and grinds his hips a moment longer. Steve is gasping. Bucky presses a hand to his ribs and rubs a thumb against where his diaphragm is, calming him. Steve whimpers a little and Bucky is finally able to unlock his jaw, releasing his scent gland. It's red and the lines of his teeth are a dark purple, blood beading up in a few spots. Bucky licks over the mark a few times, letting out a low, rumbling purr deep in his throat. 

 

"Alpha," Steve mumbles. 

 

"Baby," Bucky murmurs back, licking his neck still. "You feel good, baby? You happy?"

 

Steve giggles, nodding. Bucky parts his lips over his teeth-marks and sucks on it, pulling back to look at it every so often. Only when the skin is puffy and purple all over does he relent, nuzzling up Steve's neck to kiss his lips. Steve hums softly.

 

"Are you finally done?" their neighbor yells through the wall.

 

Steve laughs again while Bucky groans in frustration. 

 

"Will you fuck off?" he shouts back. "We're havin' a baby, jackass!"

 

"Yeah, I can tell!" the neighbor retorts. "Make it quieter!"

 

"Should go again," Steve mumbles, sounding almost drunk.

 

Bucky snorts. "Gimme a second to catch my breath, honey, Christ."

 

Steve laughs properly and pulls him into another kiss. They're grinning stupidly and the kiss is hardly more than them giggling into each other's mouths, but it doesn't matter. 

 

"You're happy," Steve says. "Can feel it."

 

"Yeah?" Bucky asks, nuzzling Steve's cheek. "What else?"

 

Steve hums. "Happy," he repeats, still giggling. 

 

"'M proud," Bucky says. "So proud'a my sweet Omega, mama'a my babies, my bondmate. I love you so much."

 

Steve giggles more. Bucky presses their lips together again, lazy this time. 

 

"We should do it again," Steve adds seriously, "the doctor said we should be having as much sex as possible, it'll make the birth go smoother."

 

"Sweetheart, I'm not sure that that's how that works," Bucky chuckles. 

 

Steve just raises his eyebrows. "Are you questioning your pregnant mate?"

 

"Certainly not," Bucky says. "But can we have dinner first? I haven't eaten since London."

 

"Ugh, fine," Steve says dramatically. 

 

Bucky laughs and lifts Steve up carefully, still knotted to him. He carries him out of the bedroom, into the living room, and drops onto the sofa. Steve lets out a little gasp as the drop impales him a little more on Bucky's knot, then whines and rolls his hips on it. Bucky pinches his hip.

 

"Be patient," he scolds. "Gotta call for pizza."

 

"Pizza sounds good," Steve agrees, cuddling against Bucky's chest.

 

"Pizza sounds excellent," Bucky mutters, grabbing his phone.

 

"Then knot again," Steve adds.

 

"You sure you're not in heat?" Bucky teases.

 

"I promise," Steve drawls. "I just missed you. And I'm your mate now. And I'm pregnant."

 

Bucky chuckles and presses a quick kiss to Steve's lips. "You are," he says. "And I'll knot you again as soon as I've stocked up some more calories, baby, I'm starving."

 

"Pussy has calories," Steve remarks sassily.

 

Bucky laughs and squeezes him. "That's desert, babydoll."