Bucky Barnes Fanfiction Collection

Dirty Diaper

Summary: Bucky is a good dad and a superhero. A dirty diaper is not to be afraid of.
Pairing: Bucky x East-Asian!Reader
Warnings: Fluff. Parent Bucky, baby diaper stuff.

"Are you sure you can do this?" You looked at Bucky.

"Baby, it is just a diaper," your husband looked at you. "It is not like he dropped a bomb, it's just poop."

You gave him an unsure look. Your son – Steven - was nine months old now, and Bucky had only changed peed diapers during his short parenthood.

"Okay," you sighed. "Okay, just..."

"Go finish your stuff," he rolled his eyes. "I do it. And then I'll feed Stevie and put him to bed."

You sighed but complied, and he looked at the boy in his arms.

Steven looked like a perfect mix of you too. With his blue eyes and your East-Asian features, he was a sight to his eyes.

Steve was, of course, his godfather, and was deep in his role. If you needed anything or any help, he was right there. He always took care of the baby when you and Bucky needed a night to yourselves.

"Now, punk," he looked at the boy. "Let's clean you."

Bucky considered himself as a good project of a dad. He had good intentions but was far from perfect.

"Okay," he said, putting the baby down. "This can't be so hard, Y/N do this all the time."

He looked around, finding the wipes and the powder and smiling openly.

Yep. It was easy.

"Now, boy," he smiled. "Let's clean you up."

He opened the boy's legs carefully and then his diaper, making an ugly face at the smell.

Just poop.

He cleaned his son carefully, spreading more powder than he probably needed and tossing the dirty diaper away before realising he had completely forgotten about grabbing a new one.

"Stay here," he held your son down with his right hand and reached out to the drawer where the clean diapers were.

He picked a random one and positioned himself in front of his son, smiling with his success, but his smile died when the shot of urine reached his face.

In response to this father's discontent, Steven laughed out loud.

"Dada," he clapped. "Dada."

Bucky sighed.

"Oh boy," he muttered, reaching out for a clean wipe, closing his diaper and cleaning his own face with a wipe.

"Dada," your son repeated, almost like he knew this would melt his father's heart instantly.

"If I didn't love you, you'd be screwed."

You walked into the apartment you shared with your husband in silence.

You had finished your tasks with the Avengers and was hoping your baby was asleep by now so you could enjoy some time snuggling with Bucky on the couch.

"Bucky?" you called softly.

Walking inside and to the baby's nursery, you couldn't help but smile with the scene in front of you.

Stevie was in his crib and Bucky was sat on a chair by his side, both asleep and your husband snoring.

Taking your phone from your pocket, you took a picture, writing a note to yourself about printing it before approaching Bucky and touching his face softly.

"What?" he asked, awake but sleepy.

"Come on, let's go to bed," you whispered and he stood up, following you in silent steps.

Both of you stopped for a moment and looked at your son, and your husband caressed you back for a moment.

"You know I love you, right?" he whispered to you. "You gave me everything I never thought I could have."

"I do," you leaned on his chest. "I love you too."