"What is that?," Bucky pointed at the small black kitten now cozy and asleep in your lap. "Well...," you grinned, scratching his tiny ear, "I haven't given him a name yet, but...," you began and he held up a hand. "Don't. Don't give him a name. That's how you get attached."
You looked up a him, frowning a bit. "He's staying," you said sternly, petting the kitten who was beginning to stir. "So you can just get over it, Barnes. Poor little guy was cold and all alone. Probably abandoned." Bucky shook his head. "He's not staying, Y/N. End of discussion."
Six months later, little Stevie, as you had christened him for his daredevil-like behavior, too much bravery for such a little guy, had grown. Bucky hadn't necessarily relented, and he'd tried, unsuccessfully, on several occasions to get rid of him, he'd simply learned to ignore him.
Despite Stevie's attempts.
Stevie loved Bucky. He followed him through the apartment. Always at his heels. You'd hear Bucky groan loudly and you knew what was coming. "Just like Rogers! Damn shadow. Y/N!," he'd yell, you'd grin, "come get this fucking cat!"
"Look at him," he sighed as you laid in bed. Stevie was curled up in your lap as you read, fast asleep. "What about him?," you asked, annoyed. "He's always all over you. I can't believe you let him sleep in the bed! Why in the hell did we spend all that money on a cat bed that he never uses?," he huffed and you raised a brow.
"James Buchanan Barnes," you looked at him, an amused look on your face, "are you jealous of little Stevie?," you teased and he pouted. He actually pouted. "No...," he muttered and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my god! The great Bucky Barnes is jealous of a little kitty cat!," you teased and he turned red.
"Am not....," he muttered again and you leaned over, kissing him gently on the lips. "You know you're my everything, right?," you asked him and he nodded reluctantly. "Buck...," you said sternly, turning his head to look at you. "I mean it."
He sighed, nodded again and kissed you. And you admitted what you hadn't wanted to admit. That you wanted a family with him. But you'd been so afraid. Desperate for something else, you'd taken in the kitten, needing something to mother.
Bucky looked at you for a long moment, surprised by your admission. "Really?," he asked finally and you nodded, still a bit afraid of his reaction. "You want to have a baby? With me?," he searched your eyes and you nodded again. He wasted no time, kissing you passionately.
"Okay little Stevie," he said, picking up the kitten gently and placing him in the cat bed, "the adults need the bed tonight," he said as he turned back to look at you. "We have things to do."
