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timidpumpkin · 1 year

Note

Can you do a stucky little reader? She wakes up sick ( flu symptoms) and they take care of her. Angst and fluff with cute nicknames. 🥺🥺❤️❤️

You had me at angst…and fluff…and cute nicknames…okay you had me at the whole thing🙈🙈💞💞heheh i hope you like it!! I set it in little light universe🫶🫶❤️💙❤️💙

(pictures are not my own)

More Than Anything (Stucky x reader)

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Warnings/tags: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Female reader, Implied forced age regression, Sick reader, Meanie bucky, Implied reader has small hands in comparison because Stucky is gigantic (fact), Angst, Fluff, Comfort. Reader baby-talks as well, Lots o' cute nicknames.

Word count: 4.2k

It hurts.

“Mornin’ Doll,” Bucky says after flipping your lights on. The illumination now burning your vision makes you pull the covers over your head as you flip over, hiding from the bright room. You hear him making his way to your bedside. The mattress beneath dips you sideways a bit as he sits beside your dormant form.

“Come on now, time to get up.” he pulls lightly at the duvet covering you. He can tell you’re gripping it with all you can. Though he could easily unveil you, he decides against it, knowing that ripping the blanket from your delicately curled-up fingers might hurt them. Instead, he leans his body over yours, one hand placed on the other side of your hip as he hovers above you. He dips his head close to where yours is concealed by the warm blanket. “Don’t make me carry you down there,” he whispers teasingly, figuring it’s likely what you’re hoping for.

Instead, you only groan in response, mumbling something about getting a little more sleep. It wasn’t an uncommon request from you, and Bucky knew how much babies needed their sleep. Usually, he would let it slide, loving how adorable you look in dreamland, but he can’t. Not this time.

It was almost noon. He peers around your room. It’s not the cleanest, but it looks pristine compared to the current state of your playroom. He had asked you yesterday to clean it, noticing the myriad of toys and their respective accessories scattered across the carpeted floor.

You, preoccupied with dressing your doll so she could ‘go on vacation,’ promised him you’d do it after dinner. Bucky apprehensively agreed, and even let you fall through on your assigned chore after you quickly fell asleep on the couch, much before your usual bedtime. Figuring you played your little heart out, he carried you upstairs and told himself to remind you in the morning.

Having already slept almost twelve hours, he knows if he lets your slumber last any longer, you’ll never sleep tonight. He sighs.

“I know you want more babygirl, but Dada already made breakfast and lunch. You need to come eat,” he waits a few moments for you to respond, but you don’t let out a sound or groan. “I'm serious, Doll, time to get up,” he states, standing up, hoping it’ll prompt you to follow. You peel your sheets back to look at him.

“Daddy…” you whine, unsure of what you're asking for. All you knew is that it hurt. Everything. It wasn’t just that the lights were too bright. It wasn't just that you were sleepy. Your whole body felt…bad. Just bad. You couldn’t exactly explain it, but you did know that moving didn’t seem like it would help.

Bucky only looks at you, unsatisfied. You try sitting up, which you find is more difficult than it should have been. Once you’re upright, you feel pressure in your head. Your cheeks and forehead feel as if there's unwanted gunk smooshed inside. It makes you want to lie back down immediately.

“m’ tired daddy,” you say groggily.

“That’s ‘cause you slept so much,” Bucky knew messing with your established sleep pattern too much would likely make you feel more cranky than it seemed you already were. So, as much as he knew you didn’t want to, he believed it would be for the best to make you get up.

As you start to get out of bed, it feels as though the air is made of thick jello with every movement you make.

“Daddyyy…ughhhh” you groan unhappily at him, and kick at your sheets frustrated that you’re being forced to move.

Bucky’s eyes narrow at your agitated action, never liking that kind of behavior from you.

“Don’t be that way, Doll. it’s too early for that,” he warns.

“Mmm,” you groan again. “noo, don’t wanna, wanna sleep!” you say crankily, flopping back down on the bed again with your arms crossed to prove your point. That point being: you. did. not. want. to. move.

Bucky rolls his eyes, and takes a deep breath, debating internally on how to approach your grouchiness. He decides, only since it’s so early—for you—that he’ll go easy on you, hoping this attitude will fade as you wake up.

“No more sleep, but,” he leans down closer to you, “if you promise to be a good girl all day, Daddy will carry you down there.” he offers as a compromise.

Truthfully, you’d still rather lay in bed, but you knew you had to do what Daddy asked. More so, you didn’t want him to be upset with you, so you nod your head in agreement.

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Okay daddy, what?” he questions.

“I-i’ll be good,” you say, having a hard time remembering what he asked. He slides his hands under you and begins to pick you up. Once you’re in his hold, you quickly let your head fall to his shoulder, wishing you could now sleep there instead.

“And you’ll eat your breakfast this morning?” he asks into your heavy head. You nod into his neck and mumble a ‘yes daddy’ assentingly.

Once he places you in your chair downstairs, Steve greets you with a bright smile, and a kiss to your forehead after setting down your food. When he does, he notices how hot your skin feels against his.

“You feel warm angel, you feel okay, babygirl?” he asks, gently checking the temperature of your cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Oh, she just got up, she’s probably still warm from sleep,” Bucky answers before you get the chance to speak. “Somebody really didn’t want to get up this morning,” he pokes.

“Ohh,” Steve coos, “you still sleepy, babygirl?” he asks. You shake your head weakly, eyes drifting closed. You think about telling him how bad you feel, but you don’t really have the energy to try to explain it.

Instead, you decide to focus on eating, hoping the sooner you finish, the quicker you can return to resting. However, the very first swallow of your otherwise pleasant meal scratches at your throat. You still try to get some down, thinking the pain will go away if you keep trying. When it becomes evident that won't be the case, you poke at your plate and begin to speak up.

“Daddy, m’done,” you push your plate away, “my thro-”

“Uh-uh, a few more bites,” Bucky pushes the plate back in front of you, knowing you’ll never feel more awake with an empty stomach. “And after you finish, you can go clean your playroom,” You look at him puzzled.

“But-”

“No buts. I already asked you to do it yesterday,” he explains, not looking up from whatever he happened to be reading at the table with you. Your face twists in confusion for a few moments before you remember how tired you felt last night. Truthfully, the fatigue was all your body could focus on, making you completely forget about the room.

“But daddy-”

“What did I just say?” he looks up at you.

“I’m tired!” you snap at him, voice raised high and whiney as you bemoan at him. You cross your arms and huff grumpily back into the chair.

“I don’t care if you’re tired. Do what Daddy says, or you can say goodbye to your playroom for the next week” he threatens. Not wanting to get out of bed was one thing, but directly disobeying him with that attitude was another.

Still, you only groan angrily in response, not feeling like you could do anything right now.

“Ugh!” you flop your head down on the table dramatically, hiding between your arms. Bucky lets your stew there for a moment before speaking up.

“Are you gonna finish eating or not?” He asks eventually, eerily calm. You remain silent, unsure of what to say. “Fine, you can go clean your room now,” You look up to him at that, suddenly confused and disoriented. Surely your daddy should know how bad you feel.

“But Daddy! I don't wanna now! I don't feel g-”

“Did I ask if you wanted to? I don’t care if you don't feel like it. Now. Or no playroom for a month.” your jaw drops, your muddled brain beyond baffled on why he’s being so harsh. Still, you know he means it. It wasn’t outside his usual punishment by any means. You almost think you should consider yourself lucky he hasn’t bent you over his knee already with how you’re fighting him.

Feeling defeated, you drag your body out of your chair. Before you can go, he grabs your arm with a warning.

“and quit with the attitude.”

“Yes, Daddy” you squeak lamentably, noticing how your throat hurts as you speak.

You drag your feet upstairs, physically resisting your legs from stomping as you go. Anger and confusion mix together in you as you think about what he said. You didn’t want to be grounded from your playroom. So many of your favorite things were in there. And, again, more importantly, you didn't want to make daddy upset with you. You never liked it when he was. You always tried so hard to be a good girl for them. But right now, it was so hard. In actuality, what you wanted more than anything was for him to cuddle with you. You felt Daddy and Dada could always make you feel better. No matter what, you were convinced your Daddies loving embrace could cure you from any ailment.

Maybe, you think, if you just cleaned your room like a good girl, you could ask to cuddle with him after.

You try your hardest to ignore the pain that ignites at every move you make, but truthfully, you're already abnormally out of breath just from your quick walk up the stairs. The room feels uncomfortably chilly against your skin.

After you get a small portion of the floor cleared, you decide to take a little break. You practically collapse beneath yourself, curling underneath the cozy play tent filled with askew fluffy pillows and dismayed blankets. You shut your eyes and tell yourself you’ll only rest for a few minutes…

“Angel?” Steve's voice echoes back at him from the loft balcony where you should easily be able to pick up his voice. He can’t hear you moving around. “Are you sure she’s in there?” he asks Bucky.

“She better. It’s where I told her to be.” he retorts disdainfully, hoping you're not again disobeying him by being somewhere else.

Steve stills himself, and listens closely, he can tell you’re there, but your breathing doesn’t sound normal.

Concerned, he makes his way upstairs. Bucky follows, recognizing Steve’s ‘something’s wrong’ face.

Steve panics for a brief moment when he enters the empty but disarrayed room. Then he spots you. Your delicate form hidden amongst haphazardly arranged fabrics. He approaches you slowly, not wanting to startle you.

He kneels down, overshadowing you as he gently caresses your cheek to wake you.

“Babygirl?” he calls softly. Puffs of hot air escape your mouth. Labored breathing is all he can hear. All they can both hear.

“Babygirl,” he calls again, shaking you slightly. To his relief, your eyes slowly open. They look sunken, tired, and devoid of their usual playful sparkle.

“Dada…?” you question quietly. “m’cold” your murmur softly, eyes begging to be closed again.

You’re not cold though. Not to Steve. You feel a million degrees too hot under his touch.

“Babygirl…” he says for the third time, this time preparing to move you. “Dada’s gonna pick you up okay?” he explains, remaining calm so as to not worry you. “We're gonna go downstairs,” you feel limp in his arms, no different than if you were deep in sleep. But you are certainly awake, even if barely. He mumbles something to Bucky you don't make out, but his tone alone tells you he’s not happy.

Once you’re downstairs, he sets you on the kitchen counter. You don’t let go of him though, your body weight is leaned almost fully onto his.

“Can you sit up for me, babygirl?” he asks encouragingly, but gently. “Daddy and I are gonna check you out okay?” you groan a bit, still just feeling tired.

“Here,” Bucky speaks up softly, snaking his arms around you, and taking Steve’s place in front of you. As you’re shifted from one body’s hold to another, it wakens you a bit. You almost go back to leaning fully onto his chest when you realize who’s holding you.

“Daddy?” you shift back a little to look up at him. One hand of his is resting at your hip, the other helping support the rest of your body.

“Hey, babydoll…” he says softly, voice drifting, and stomach sinking as he sees how sick you look.

He almost wishes he could somehow shut his hearing out. Your heartbeat is quicker than usual. He knew it better than his own. How it sounded while you slept, when you’d play, how it picks up when you laugh, giggling for breath and telling him ‘daddy, stop it tickles’ with the brightest grin lighting up your face. Now…now he can’t stand it. It’s thumping too fast. Faster than it should be for when his little girl hasn’t moved an inch herself.

Why didn’t he notice it before? He thinks back to how heavily you held onto him when he carried you this morning. How quickly he was to interrupt you. He realizes you probably tried to tell him. And he didn’t listen. Even worse, he made you clean. Guilt seeps deep into his guts as he remembers how funny your voice sounded today.

“Daddy,” you break him from his thoughts, he sees tears beginning to form in your doleful eyes. “Daddy m’sorry,” you breathe in sharply, beginning to cry “m’sorry didn't f-finish-i just-i gots so tireds daddy I’m-I'm sorry,” you sob pathetically, knowing you’ve disappointed him.

Bucky’s face falls.

All you had to do was one simple thing, and you couldn't even do that right. You weren’t being a good girl by disobeying him like that. Even if you felt bad, you feel you should have tried harder.

“Doll, no-” you cry sorries to him more, your own hands reaching to cover your shameful face. He catches them before you do, gently taking them into his and guiding them around his neck for you so you can be more level with his gaze. “Babydoll, look at daddy,” He pulls you, hands drawing you closer so he’s flush with you in between your legs. Needing to feel your skin, his right hand tenderly guides your face to look at him. “I’m not upset with you. Daddy’s not upset with you,” he reassures, silently pleading for you not to cry.

“But-but-I didn’t cleans-I-I just-I-I not good girl,” you sob miserably at the admission, never wanting to be bad for him.

“My little girl, my sweet girl, no, please no” he assures, hating how skewed shut your eyes are. “That’s not true, Doll, it’s just not. Daddy…” he carefully wipes at the wet tears on your cheek, “Daddy should have known.” he admits shamefully. You finally blink your eyes open at him, a timidly unsure expression written on your face. “I should have known. You...you tried to tell daddy huh?” he takes one of your hands and gives it soft kisses.

“N-n’your not mad at me?” you sniffle as your cries begin to slow down.

“No, Doll, never.” he couldn’t be, never for something like this. His mouth opens again, he wants to tell you how sorry he is. He’s the one who should be, but he only finds his own tongue twisted, unsure of how to fully express his remorse. Before he has time to puzzle the words together, Steve interrupts, thermometer in hand.

“Open wide, babygirl,” you do as he says. “tongue up,” he mimics the motion for you. The cold metal feels uncomfortable in your mouth. They must know this as Bucky squeezes your hand soothingly, and Steve tells you ‘just a little longer’ with a sympathetic gaze as he holds your jaw with the hand that’s not keeping the thermometer in place.

When it beeps, Steve removes it and frowns when he reads the displayed numbers.

“Can you tell us what hurts, princess?” Steve asks. You point your hand towards your neck. “Your throat?” he confirms, and you nod your head. “What else babygirl?” you then squeeze your eyes together, remembering how squished your brain feels.

“Head,” you mumble quietly, before crossing and rubbing your arms together in discomfort. “Everything.”

“Your body hurts? Feels sore?” He asks. You nod your head weakly at him, closing your eyes and wishing you could be laying down right now. Even just sitting somewhat upright felt hard at the moment.

“Okay babygirl, why don’t you let Daddy take you to the bedroom,” Steve suggests. “I’ll be there in just a minute.” he smiles at you comfortingly, before placing a kiss on your forehead with his hand cradling the back of your head.

“m’I sick?” you ask Bucky as he carries you to their room.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, Dada and I will help you feel better,” he carefully sets you on their large bed.

It's soft. Yours is soft too, but Daddies always felt so much softer for some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to sleep next to your favorite people. He arranges the pillows and blankets around you to make you more comfortable, then slides next to you. You rest your head on his chest, almost instantly falling asleep again.

Some time passes, particularly how much time is beyond you. All you knew in this moment, is how comfy Daddy felt.

After some time, Steve’s voice brings you back to reality. He instructs you to sit more upright so he can give you medicine.

The odd color liquid he brings toward you makes you cringe. You can tell just from looks how bitter and unpleasant it will taste. You recoil into bucky, small hands gripping at the buttons of his shirt as you whine.

“Daddyyy…” you tug on Bucky's shirt more, trying to force your head into his flannel to hide from Steve and his icky medicine, practically begging Bucky to not make Steve give it to you.

“Doll,” Bucky chuckles a bit at your attempt to hide inside his outer shirt. He still holds you close, hands supporting you on your bottom as you have now completely crawled on top of him.

“Angel…you know I can still see you…right?” Steve teases.

“No you can’ts…m’not here” you proclaim, muffled into Bucky’s chest.

“The sooner you take it, the sooner it will be over, come on princess.” Steve encourages. You’re still not convinced and instead mumble out one word: ‘pill.’

For a second, Steve isn’t sure if he understood you correctly before his lips tighten with a displeased look on his face.

You’ve had this conversation before. He thought surely by now you understood it, but he figured since you’re sick, it might be hard for your little head to remember.

“Sweet girl, babies can’t take pills, you know that.” Steve explains patiently. You did know that. It was early on when Steve refused to let you take any medication you needed through a pill. It didn't matter what you needed, he was always able to find a way to get a liquid version of it from Uncle Bruce. Or, as you like to think, a much yuckier version of it.

Still, you groan in disagreement, not wanting to taste something that bad, let alone when your throat hurt as much as it did.

“Doll,” Bucky speaks up. “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll make you feel so much better.”

You shake your head against his chest, disagreeing with both of your daddies now.

“it’s yucky dough daddy,” you whine.

“I know it’s yucky, babydoll,” Bucky pats at your back comfortingly while he thinks. He knows how hard this is for you, especially when you feel so bad. “Hey,” he peels you back from him a bit, unburying you from his shirt as he has an idea. “Look,” he instructs, “Here,” he takes the small cap of medicine from Steve’s hands and–to your horror–throws it back in his mouth. You look at him in horror as the icky liquid disappears from the cap into Bucky's mouth. You stare at him wildly.

Daddy’s crazy, you think.

“There. See? Daddy took it. It’s not so bad.” Bucky says nonchalantly in an attempt to convenience you. He hands the empty cap back to Steve so he can refill it. Steve shares your look of bewilderment, before you can't help but break out a smile at his action.

“Daddy,” you giggle at him.

“What?” He fakes surprise. “Daddy took it, so you can too.” he assures happily, taking the now filled-again cap from Steve. Still, you recoil from it a bit.

“Yeah…” you look between him and the medicine suspiciously. “but daddy also drinks other yucky stuffs,” you defend, referring to the strong-smelling caramel-colored stuff he likes to drink sometimes. Daddy never lets you have that.

Bucky chuckles a bit when he realizes what you meant.

“Okay, true…and little baby definitely can’t have that stuff…” he says pointedly. “but this,” he gestures the cap towards you. “you have to take.” You look between him and Steve warily.

“Please angel, I know you can do it. Do it for Daddy and Dada princess,” Steve encourages. You agree this time, mentally pepping yourself up and telling yourself if daddy could do it, so could you.

You scrunch your eyes closed as Bucky brings it closer to your lips. You feel Steve’s hands reach down to hold your face. One hand holding your jaw up firmly, with the other around the back of your head. This way, you aren't able to move should you change your mind. Steve knew you’d be a good girl and take it, but he always had to be sure just in case–not unlike what has happened before–you decide to spit it out.

When it hits your tongue, it’s just as yucky as you had imagined. Maybe even worse. Instinctively, your face contorts in displeasure as you squirm around from the gross sensation.

Steve and Bucky hold you firmly in place the whole time and instruct you to swallow.

Once you do, Steve asks you to open your mouth for him, just to make sure you really swallowed it all.

“Good girl, my brave little girl. I knew you could do it.” Steve praises you. “Dada’s so proud of you.” he beams at you, making you smile.

“Daddy proud too?” you ask shyly to Bucky.

“Super proud doll. The proudest of them all.” he winks at you, making you giggle a little bit, but it tickles your throat, causing you to start having a coughing fit.

Bucky brings a sippy on their nightstand to your lips and lets you drink some cold water. It helps calm your throat.

Steve asks if there’s anything else you want right now. You ask for some juice in your favorite sippy, and he lets you know he’ll bring it after he’s done making some soup for you.

Bucky gets out of the bed, making you confused. You promptly grab at his hands.

“Where going?” you look up to him, eyes big and sad.

“I was just gonna go help Dada, why don’t you get some rest, Doll?” He says, knowing it’s what you need most right now. To his surprise though, you don’t let go.

“Nooo,” you say, tugging feebly at his hands. “Stay…wanna…can…cuddle daddy?” you ask bashfully, suddenly feeling shy.

Bucky’s eyes turn soft. Soft. Just like his little girl. Soft. Like how your voice always sounded. Soft. Something, an emotion, a feeling, a sensation, that only you made him experience.

Even after he made you clean your playroom, even after he snapped at you and didn’t listen, you still asked in your softest voice, doleful eyes, and small grabby hands if he would cuddle with you. Sometimes–he’s not sure what he did to deserve you.

“Of course, princess,” he climbs back into the bed with you and you grin happily as you curl yourself around him just like before. He suggests again that you to get some rest, but that too comes with protest.

“Wanna watch ‘toons wif Daddy…can we’s?” you ask. Bucky smiles to himself and kisses your head. Even though he knows you’ll likely fall fast asleep no more than five minutes into it, there’s nothing more he’d like more than watch shows with his little girl

He turns on your favorite show and makes sure you’re perfectly comfortable, tucked around him and under blankets.

“Doll?” he whispers softly after a few minutes. To his surprise, you’re still awake. You mumble a questioning ‘hmm?’ he takes a few seconds to respond, trying to gather the words correctly for you. He breathes in.

“I’m sorry Daddy didn’t listen earlier,” he admits, lips ghosting the top of your head, before placing a kiss there. “I should have listened.”

“It’s okies Daddy,” you hum sleepily into his chest. It wasn’t okay. He knew that. But you—you and your never-ending soft and kind heart—forgave him. And that’s all that mattered to him. He truly was more than lucky to have a little girl like you.

“I love you Daddy,” you squeeze him softly, voice quiet. And even though he can’t see you, he knows you're smiling when you say it.

“I love you, Doll.” more than anything.

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 6 months

Text

Daddy’s Good Girl » Steve Rogers/Captain America

October 30th

Pairings: Stepdad!Steve Rogers x Stepdaughter!Reader

Summary: The reader is a good girl for her stepdaddy.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, daddy kink, praise kink, pet names (honey, sweetheart)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡

“Daddy please!” You whined.

Steve has been denying you of orgasms all night. It all started when you were about to leave the house to go to a Halloween party, wearing a costume very revealing and not you’re paying the price.

“What do you want sweetheart?” Steve asks.

“Please let me cum!” You begged.

“Nice try, but no.” He says.

You whined and threw your head back against the pillow. Your jaw dropped when Steve rubbed his fingers faster against your now sensitive clit. Your lower abdomen tightened. Your orgasm was coming closer and closer.

“I’m gonna cum!” You moaned.

Steve abruptly took his fingers away from you when you said that making you to whine in frustration.

“Not yet, honey.” He says.

Steve stood up and took off his clothes. You licked your lips when you seen his hard cock, leaking with precum.

“My eyes are up here.” He says, snapping his fingers in your face.

Steve got in between your legs. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, your legs were on either side of him. He rubbed his tip in between your folds, teasing your entrance.

“Daddy please!” You whined.

Steve chuckled at your desperateness. He slid his cock inside of you, inch by inch till he was fully inside of you. His hands gripped your hips as he began thrusting at a slow pace to tease you.

“Faster please, daddy!” You begged.

“Are you going to be my good girl?” Steve asks.

“Yes! I’ll be good! So good!” You say.

Steve increased the pace of his thrusts, faster and harder. One of his hands left your hips and found it’s way to your clit, rubbing it in circles with his fingers. Moans left your lips as you threw your head back against the pillow. Steve leaned down to kiss along your neck, nipping at your skin hard enough to leave hickeys behind.

“Such a good girl for daddy.” He says against your neck.

You felt a familiar tightening in your lower abdomen that you felt earlier. You had a feeling that Steve was going to deny you of another orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum, daddy!” You moaned.

“Cum for daddy, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear as his fingers rubbed faster on your clit.

Your jaw dropped, his name left your lips as you came. Steve wasn’t too far behind you.

“Fuck!” Steve moans as he came inside of you.

His thrusts came to a slow stop. Steve pulled out of you and laid down next to you, pulling you against him.

“You’re daddy’s good girl.” Steve says.

“Mhmm.” You hummed.

🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡

-Bucky’s Doll

#captain steve rogers #captain rogers #steve rogers #captain america #chris evans #chris evans characters #the avengers #avengers #marvel #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #stepdad!steve rogers #daddy!steve #steve rogers one shot

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marvelfanfics1 · 8 months

Note

I just fell. I know a random start but when I was playing outside I fell and hurt my knee and it bleeded 😥 maybe you can do the same with daddy stucky x little reader x little Peter (Tom Peter) where the reader fell and it bleeded so her dada Steve toke care of it and put a cute little unicorn plaster (I'm not sure how it calls bc English is not my native Language) and she is still crying when they got out of the bathroom and daddy Bucky but her in his lap and hug her and little petie comes to the reader and put a kiss on the hurting knee and says "that makes u feel bwtter"

🩹<---- I mean this thing

Kisses make it better

(GIFs not mine)

The Super Soldiers Little Angels au

Pairing: daddy!stucky x little!reader x little!Peter

Warnings: Age Regression, hurt knee, mentions of blood, fluff, comfort

A/n: Hey guys 🤗 I'm really sorry for the lack of fics, I had a writersblock and have been struggling with family drama (ya know the usual 🤙🏻) anyway, I hope I overcame it now and can spoil you with fics again 💜

⭒𖥸⭒

It was a beautiful day outside so Steve and Bucky decided to take you and Peter to the compound so you could play outside with other littles from the Avengers group.

At the compound were so many fun things to do and with how much space they have you can find activities literally everywhere.

Now you were running around a play structure with Kate while Peter was chasing you both. It was all fun and games until you tripped over your own foot and fell on the rubber ground that was around the structure.

It all happened so quickly that it took you a few seconds to now feel the pain that was coming from your knees, tears already blurring your vision before you could even take a look at it.

Peter was a second later beside you, trying desperately to figure out what was wrong when he saw your bruised knees and quickly jumped into action.

"I go get daddies!" he said and rushed off to where all the caregivers were sitting and talking.

Meanwhile, poor Kate was trying as hard as she could to comfort you, Peter would most definitely almost suffocate you in a hug, Kate only rubbed your back, assuring you that Peter will be back soon with your daddies and it did comfort you in a way.

Soon enough you saw Peter coming back with Steve jogging after him and he quickly knelt beside you.

"Shh, it's okay, Angel. Dada's here." he grimaced a little when he saw your bloody knees. Your little sobs broke his heart, he and Bucky hate seeing either of their littles in pain, and in a quick motion, he picked you up and carried you inside to the nearest bathroom.

"Dada hurts." you cried while Steve was looking for some bandaids and something to clean the wounds.

"I know, sweetheart." he kissed your forehead. "I promise it will be better soon."

You kept crying silently, wincing when he touches a sore spot with the alcohol pad. When all the blood was wiped off he grabbed a colorful unicorn bandaid and put one on each knee, hoping to cheer you up a little but you were still sobbing a little.

"Let's go see what daddy's doing." he offered you a smile and you nod, raising your arms for him to pick you up which he happily did.

Your crying ceased to little sobs and hiccups while Steve carried you to where he was before Peter came in running and frantically pointing outside. There you saw Peter who was leaning with his back against Bucky's shoulder and playing on his switch but he quickly turned it off when he saw you.

"Our poor doll." Bucky cooed and you started to make grabby hands for him.

Steve handed you over to him and you got comfortable on his lap with your back against his chest and him wrapping his arms around you to make you feel secure and safe.

Peter frowned a little, seeing how some tears kept falling from your eyes. He got up from his spot beside his daddy to kneel before you both. First, you were confused, tilting your head to the side. He then leaned forward to kiss each of your knees carefully.

"Dis will make you feel better!" he smiled and you wiped the remained tears away, smiling back at him.

"Fank you, Petie."

He got back on his spot and took one of your hands caressing the back of it with his thumb, making your daddies hearts almost explode from the cuteness.

⭒𖥸⭒

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

Stucky masterlist:

@almostcontentcreator @stuckysgirl27

Crossed out are the ones I somehow can't tag!

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strangererotica · 1 month

Text

EXPLICIT CONTENT • MINORS DNI • older!daddy!dom!Steve Harrington x bratty!fem!reader • Includes daddy kink, teasing, jealousy/possessiveness, implied age gap (reader 20’s or 30’s, Steve 40’s or 50’s) rough sex, talking back, spanking, oral, and fluff ♥️

All semblance of calm left Steve’s eyes the moment he saw what you were wearing. Normally, he enjoyed the little ‘show,’ you put on for him before leaving for a night out with your girlfriends. But not this time.

You pranced down the stairs in quite possibly the shortest mini skirt Steve had ever seen. In fact, he wasn’t sure the strip of material could even be called a skirt at all. The way it hugged your body, accentuating the curve of your hips and tummy, made Steve’s cock twitch despite his surprise. You were gorgeous. And not to mention, the blouse you were wearing: soft, thin fabric that barely concealed your bra-less breasts beneath it, nipples poking prominently through the sheer material.

Steve could feel the jealousy boiling in his stomach; he didn’t want any other man or woman in Hawkins to see what belonged to him, what only HE was privileged enough to see. He could be a bit domineering at times, and perhaps that was an understatement. But you loved pressing Steve’s buttons, testing his jealousy. Sometimes, you’d openly flirt with other men in front of Steve, because you knew the ‘punishment,’ for your behavior would be fucking WORTH IT.

Steve’s jaw was tight as he watched you descend the stairs. You caught the look immediately, and a little thrill shivered inside you. This is exactly the response you’d hoped to inspire. So you decided to go all-in with your teasing little game.

“Do you like my outfit, Daddy?” you asked, blinking up at him innocently. Steve pressed his lips together a moment before speaking, as if choosing his words carefully. “You dressed yet?” he asked, and you giggled.

“Of course I’m dressed, silly!” you replied, resting your hands lightly on his chest. “Your eyes must be playing tricks on you, old man.”

It was said with levity, in a playful tone, but Steve was not amused. You often teased him about his age when you wanted him to fuck you stupid, like now, and show you exactly what a man his age could DO…

Steve grit his teeth behind his lips. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Well, if you were dressed, would it be this easy for me to grab a handful of your ass?”

You winced as Steve’s palm slid in an instant beneath your skirt and squeezed one side of your ass, hard. The thrill inside you grew, going straight to your core.

“Well you do have big hands, Daddy,” you mused, sinking yourself against Steve’s warm palm.

“Mmm-hmm,” Steve agreed. “And you know what Daddy can do with his hands, don’t you Princess?”

He abruptly pulled his hand away and spanked the cheek of your ass he’d been gripping. A little gasp of surprise and excitement left your lips, and you smiled in spite of the act you were pulling. Steve was NOT smiling, however. He was pissed.

“Give me one good reason why I should let you go out tonight half naked,” he said, his voice low. You shook your head, feigning ignorance. “I don’t understand,” you responded. “I’m wearing a skirt and a blouse. That hardly makes me naked-.”

Another swat on your ass silenced you.

“Don’t talk back to me, (y/n),” Steve warned. The darkness in his tone sent your heart fluttering, warmth pooling between your legs. Both of Steve’s hands were on your ass now, massaging you, kneading roughly.

“You think I’d let you show everyone in this town what’s mine, and only mine?” he asked, pulling you a little closer. “Think I’d let you trot this pussy all over Hawkins like it’s nothing? Like it doesn’t belong to me…?”

You shivered as Steve’s hand slid between your thighs, cupping your pussy in his large, warm palm. Steve’s lip curved in a grin at your response, at feeling how soaking wet you were.

“Aww,” he cooed, massaging your slick between the folds of your pussy, purposefully neglecting your clit. “Looks like somebody’s misbehaving on purpose…”

Your eyes lolled back as Steve pressed two fingers inside you easily, considering how wet you were already. You moaned at the thickness of his touch inside you, the way he instantly found your g-spot and curved his fingers around it. “Oh baby,” Steve purred against your ear as you sank your forehead into his chest. “That’s right, thats my girl…”

You buried your nose against the coarse hair of Steve’s chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, letting his warmth consume you. “Such a good girl…such a good girl for Daddy…” Steve‘s voice was like syrup, sweet and soothing as he gently stroked inside your pussy. “Gave in so easily…” You frowned, momentarily caught off guard. “Didn’t give her Daddy any trouble at all,” Steve murmured sweetly. “Just a couple of fingers up her cunt, and she forgets how to be a brat…”

You lifted your head from Steve’s chest, meeting his eyes. He was smirking at you, fingers buried to his knuckles in your cunt. He clearly thought he’d won, that he’d broken you. But it wasn’t a gentle fuck you were after; you wanted to be punished. A soft fingering wasn’t going to be enough; and you realized that unless you showed Steve that you were still VERY much a brat, he wasn’t going to be convinced…

So with all the strength you could muster, considering how fucking amazing Steve’s fingers felt up your cunt, you looked up at him and said with a straight face, “I have somewhere to be, Daddy.” You pushed Steve’s arm out from between your legs, lifting off his fingers with a wet squelch. “You’ll just have to play with my pussy later…”

Steve’s lips curved into a circle of surprise; he had NOT been anticipating this from you. But his demeanor shifted quickly to something much darker, his eyes staring you down intensely. “Later?” he muttered, his voice like ice. “You’re gonna make me wait, Princess?”

Your heart raced once again as you nodded, happy to see this darker Steve returning.

“The hell I will,” Steve growled. His hand found your hair, fingers clutching it just tightly enough not to hurt. You tried not to smile, but it was difficult to hide it. THIS was the Steve you’d been trying to provoke.

He led you by your hair to the nearby sofa, pushing you down so your ass was facing him. Another hard swat of his palm against it had you wincing, grinning freely into the couch cushions where Steve couldn’t see. “Fucking brat,” Steve murmured over your back, moving to straddle you. “Full of surprises tonight, aren’t you Princess?”

Steve pulled the skirt up over your ass and spanked you again, leaving a mark this time which he quickly soothed with his palm. You didn’t mind Steve roughing you up, but he was worried sometimes about going too far and accidentally hurting you. “You good, Princess?” he asked, and you quickly replied “yes, Daddy. But I wish you’d spank me next.”

Steve almost laughed out loud at your audacity, but restrained himself. He didn’t restrain his hand, however, and this time, his smack against your ass brought a tear to your eye. “Fuck yes,” you groaned into the couch cushion, your voice muffled but Steve could still hear it. He was on his knees behind you now, straddling your legs. His fingers slid under the waist of your thong panties and yanked them off of you, unintentionally ripping the elastic in his haste. “Oops,” he muttered under his breath, throwing the strip of fabric aside.

Steve took in the view of your bare ass, your cheeks crimson from his punishment. He pressed a hand to your back, sliding his palm down your spine, his touch lingering at the dip just above your ass. He leaned forward, taking a bit of your skin between his teeth. You flinched, your body tensing at the slight pain. Steve massaged your skin between his teeth, working his way across your ass, his hands on either side, groping.

When he was finished, Steve spread you open, and sank his face between your cheeks. You exhaled as his tongue slid down between your pussy lips and slowly up over your asshole. Steve continued to massage you, kneading your ass like dough in his strong hands. You arched your back, pressing your ass into his face. Steve obliged you, tilting his chin so you were now sitting on his face, the tip of his nose slipping between the lips of your pussy, his tongue lapping at your clit from behind.

Steve ate you like this till you were screaming his name, cum spraying his chin and trickling into his mouth like a small stream. He rutted his face between your lips letting you ride his nose as you came, breathing through his mouth in between swallowing your cum, grateful for every single drop. You were left shaking and crying into the couch, your mind and body completely fucked stupid. Steve had finally broken you, his little brat, and he smiled over your back at his victory, licking his slick lips and taking a moment to savor his win.

He flipped you over by your shoulders and hoisted you up onto the couch, your back against it. The look on your face was priceless: eyes glassy, half-lidded and dumb, your mouth hanging open lazily as you readily accepted whatever else your Daddy wanted to do to you. He knelt against the couch with one knee, eyes fixed on yours as he undid his pants. You were lost in a haze of bliss, taking in the sight of Steve’s drenched face and shirt, the smell of your pussy filling the air between you. He spit on his cock and pumped it a few times in his fist, lining himself up with your entrance.

In one hard thrust, Steve entered you fully, his balls slapping wet against your sopping cunt. He growled low in his chest, your wet heat enveloping and sucking him as he pulled his hips backward. Thrusting into you again, you felt the breath knocked out of your lungs. THIS is the fucking you’d needed Steve to give you, making you come harder than you ever had before and then stuffing you with his cock to do it all again…

He punched your insides like he was actually angry, hands locked around your hips, not letting you escape, even as you bucked and whimpered against his chest. Steve panted into your hair, dusting it off your shoulders as he fucked your ass into the couch. Your body was weak, depleted from the sheer power of the climax you’d just had on Steve’s face. He knew you could do it again, however, could already feel another orgasm building within you as your walls trembled around him.

“Come on, Princess,” he soothed, his forehead pressed to yours as he thrusted deep inside you. “You can do it…come for Daddy, baby…” Steve’s voice was so gentle it made you weak, the scent of your cunt on his breath as he spoke sending you over the edge. Your legs shook around Steve’s waist, your heels kicking into his ass as he pummeled your cunt. The room around you went white as your eyes squeezed shut, the force of your orgasm rocking you even harder than the one before it. Steve’s cock was prodding your deepest space, nearly splitting you in half. It would have been painful, SHOULD have been painful, but your body was too lost in the intensity of your climax to know it.

He moaned your name against your ear, a beautiful desperation and love in his tone. “Come for me, Daddy,” you begged, a hot tear streaming down your cheek. “Come inside this pussy…it belongs to you…”

At that, Steve lost the last bit of restraint he had, growling into your shoulder as he emptied himself against your cervix. You felt his cum filling you, breeding you, marking you once again as his, and only his.

Steve’s chest was wet with sweat and your cum soaked into his shirt. He gently lifted off of you, panting down at you, and smiled. You lifted your face to meet Steve’s, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his, still wet with your slick. “I love you, Daddy,” you breathed, a soft smile spreading your lips.

Steve kissed you, deeply, his cum-soaked tongue folding gently with yours. He pulled back and sleepily blinked down at you, grinning. “Love you too, Princess.”

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babyhatesreality · 8 months

Note

OKAY HOW ABOUT A LITTLE ONE THAT LOVES SHARING HER FOOD WITH EVERYONE IN THE ROOM AND ESPECIALLY WITH HER DADDIES

Soo maybe a scenario or headcanon where the reader start with sharing her veggies with her daddies but after a while she start sharing food that she likes so when there at the avenger tower and its Lunch time she wanna give petie and the other a bit of her food and wann give her daddies a bit of her favorite food so she grabs a bit and hold it to her daddies mouth 😻

Oh, this is an adorable thought, you cute Nonnie you...

Sharing is Caring

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, language, fluffity fluff fluff fluff.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

Bucky had never seen your eyes so wide before. He chuckled softly, thoroughly enjoying your incredulous delight.

"Dat's....for me?" you asked in a hushed tone, completely in awe of something so wondrous.

Bucky had to bite the inside of his cheek from outright laughing. They had found some individual snack packs of mini Chips Ahoy cookies the last time they went grocery shopping, and had packed them as a post-lunch treat today. They'd brought you up to the work floor with them, as it was just boring paperwork today. Knowing how much you loved your cookies, the small bags seemed like a good idea to try. They had no idea you'd react with such reverence.

Your little mind was BLOWN. A whole bunch of little chocolate chip cookies in a pretty blue bag, and all for you??? It was too much. You were overwhelmed with the indescribable majesty of it all.

"Yeah, it's for you, munchkin," Bucky said gleefully, his grin threatening to split his face. "You can have the whole bag since you finished all your fruit." He opened the bag and held it out to you.

You took it as carefully as if it were a Faberge Egg. Bucky had to pretend like he had an itchy nose- using his hand to cover his mouth as your complete and total wonder was so damned cute that it was making him giggle like a schoolgirl. He wondered how long you'd actually be able to keep quiet about this.

He didn't have to wonder for long.

You shrieked with absolute delight, jumped up and down, and then absolutely hurtled yourself at Bucky, who caught you with a laugh. "TANK YOU TANK YOU TANK YOOOOOOOU!" you screamed delightedly, hugging your Daddy as hard as you could. You let him go and popped one cookie into your mouth. It was so little and it was so good and it was the BEST. You looked back into the bag. There were SO MANY in there. You carefully extracted one, and held it up to Bucky. "Here, Daddy!"

Bucky smiled and shook his head. "Those are yours, baby, they're for you."

"But I wanna share!" you said, jumping up and down. "C'mere! Open!!" Laughing at your sweet impatience, Bucky leaned down and opened his mouth as requested. With a squeal of delight, you popped it into his mouth, then surprised him with a quick kiss on the nose. "Tank you!! Chew good!" you shrieked over your shoulder as you tore out of the room, on a mission. You just heard Bucky laugh at your instructions as you skidded into the next room.

"GUYS LOOK!" you shrieked with joy, holding your small bag aloft. Peter, Wanda, and Pietro turned around, curious, but were just as excited as you were when they realized the treasure that you held. You shared one with each of your friends, in turn, before running out of the room and back to Papa's office. You yelled 'hi' to all your friends and family as you ran past them in your delight, and they all knew you well enough to step to the side as you barreled down the hallway to your destination.

Steve sighed patiently. He could hear you blazing your typical path of destruction towards him. He loved your carefree and playful spirit, but was constantly afraid that you were going to get hurt in your exuberance. You flew into his office, looking more wound-up than usual.

"Hi Papa! Guess what??"

"Hi Baby. Whatever it is, it must have been important for you to be running around the floor like that."

"Oh. Oops. Sorry, I forgotted again."

"Yeah, I figured. What's up, pup?"

You giggled at the little rhyme and the resigned but loving look on his face. "Lookit da COOKIES!!!" You made a show of clearly walking- not running- towards him, and he grinned at the strained look on your face as you fought against your natural cheetah instincts. Once you got next to him through, you flung yourself into his lap, scrambling and squirming to pull yourself upright. Steve gave you little assists here and there, and put his arms around you once you got to your destination. "Here, I wanna share with you please!"

"That is so sweet, baby, thank you." He couldn't say anything else as you dug one out of the bag and tapped it against his lips. He made a funny face at you, then started pretending that his lips were glued together. He tilted his head at your, his eyes playfully twinkling. You giggled, then laughed as he teased you by not opening his mouth, and playing like he couldn't. You ended up smashing the cookie flat to his lips and pressing it in, not letting up, screaming with laughter. Finally Steve "pried" his lips apart and let you push the cookie in, then tickled you as you continued to laugh like crazy.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's going on in here?" A deep voice startled you. You stopped laughing, twisting around. "There's not this much happiness allowed on this floor." Nick Fury was standing there with his arms crossed, but you could see a hint of a smile on his face. You hopped off your Papa's lap and skipped around the desk to stand at the Director's feet. Ever since he'd declared you a part of the family, you absolutely LOVED him and always enjoyed a moment to bask in his coolness.

"Hi Mr. Nick!" you said happily, completely unaffected by his tough guy demeanor. "Here, I wanna give you something!" You held up a cookie to him. You might not have been afraid of him, but there was no way that you were going to ask him to open his mouth like your Papa and your Daddy.

Nick took it from your hand with a low chuckle. "Well, thank you, little one. How'd you know I love mini cookies so much?" He looked at you curiously when you got a very, very serious look on your face.

"I am about to blow your mind then," you said, completely solemnly. You held up the cookie bag for him to inspect, inwardly thrilled. You knew that you were about to change Nick Fury's life forever with your little blue packaged miracle.

#daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky #daddy bucky x little reader #daddy!steve #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy steve #daddy steve x little reader #daddy steve rogers #daddy steve rogers x little reader #daddy!steve rogers #daddy!steve rogers x little #daddy stucky #daddy!stucky #daddy stucky x little reader #daddy!stucky x little reader

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manic-eddie · 2 years

Text

Flashback to s3 of stranger things when Steve was tripping absolute balls after being drugged🤭😵‍💫

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bunnyscraft · 2 years

Note

What about Andy Barber with a cheating / getting back at kink

Like he knows Laurie is cheating on him so he turns to you

Dark!Andy Barber x Younger!Reader | Guilty

Bunny’s Note : oooo spicy !! Always love some dark!Andy Barber !! Hope you enjoy this one <3

Warnings : slight! dub-con, darkish!Andy, cheating, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), inexperienced!Reader, mean!Andy, slight misogyny, BIG AGE GAP !!

Andy’s pov:

I’d made it two steps into the pristine seemingly empty home before I heard it—the obnoxiously loud ringing of my wife’s phone. The shrill sound of the speaker shouldn’t have irritated me more than the reason for the call.

I knew who it was. Who he was.

Laurie’s feet thumped down the hallway—always quick to pick up the unknown caller or send it straight to voicemail before mumbling on about annoying telemarketers and asking how my day was.

I knew what she was doing.

I watched as her chipped red nails flipped the device over—screen now flat against the cold expensive marble that stood in the middle of our kitchen. “Oh! Ands—baby,” she faked surprise, moving around the counter to conduct our mandatory kiss. What once used to be the most exciting part of my day—I was about to get laid—now blended in with my other daily duties.

It’s Thursday—take out the trash.

Don’t forget to schedule with the groomer.

Take a handful of vitamins because apparently—I am now old.

Kiss cheating wife.

Go to work.

She leaned in, kissed the corner of my mouth as quickly as one could. I didn’t bother to return it and she didn’t bother to care—no she only continued to clamber around the kitchen searching for her bag and shoes and whatever else she’d need for her night out of pretending she wasn’t a mother and wasn’t in her mid forties and definitely wasn’t a married woman sleeping with drunk men in their twenties.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, babe. Sorry it’s such short notice—you know Susan can’t bake it all without me. She’ll definitely need my help with the bake sale and—” Laurie rambled on, picking up her phone and anxiously tapping through it.

She seemed to have forgotten that Susan didn’t know shit about baking and that our son, who was now a senior in high school, was possibly a little too old to have a mother host a bake sale for him.

All of these things—the bullshit lies and the shifty behavior—should have hurt me. Maybe they should have triggered a sort of dominance in me to protect my family or confront my wife. But no, in moments like these, I felt nothing.

“Oh and y/n is here—upstairs with Jacob.” She revealed—voice laced with annoyance. “You make sure she doesn’t try anything on him—she dresses like some kind of slutty-church girl. It’s weird and I don’t want that kind of influence around him. Especially right now.”

I had to bite back a smirk. It was almost comical—her calling you a slut, not that I’d disagree.

Y/n was a cute little thing—always smiling and offering to help when she’d find me covered in grass and dirt—dripping with sweat from working meticulously on our perfect suburban yard. She’d always stand there in some little sundress that would barely reach her knees and pristine white socks—obviously not dressed for the job but always ready to help old Mr. Barber out.

I’d never let her—dirtying a little thing like that wasn’t what I had in mind. Instead, like the old pervert I’ve grown into, I’d have her run inside the house for me for water—just to watch the little sway of her ass as she turned to do what I said, then ogle at the bounce of her tits when she’d skip back.

I’ll admit—I was a creep, I am a creep, but she had a slutty side to her.

Every now and then i’d jolt awake to the flash of y/n’s headlights shining through my window in the peak hours of the night—my bed uncomfortably empty. Were you like Laurie, y/n?Spending long nights out—lying and hiding about where and what you had been doing, either to your absent parents or doting boyfriend?

I had decided that that’s what she was: a little desperate slut—eager for the attention of an older man. It made me feel better to think of y/n this way. It kept me from focusing on those times when her soft laugh stuck a little too long in my head or when her comforting squeezes to my shoulder caused more than just a slight hard-on.

They caused emotions to spill.

I had written it all out in my head—a story on what this oblivious girl was really like.

You were easy—an easy little girl who was desperate for any form of male attention. Sure I didn’t really have enough evidence to back this claim, but I would stand by it.

Thats probably why you, once again, were helping Jacob prepare for his final exams—my son seemed to be under your spell too.

“Yeah sure.” I grunted, though Laurie was already more than halfway to the door, fidgeting anxiously with her keys.

Hours later—Laurie was gone. Empty goodbyes exchanged and forgotten. Andy was now on the couch—he’d not even bothered to rid himself of his button up and slacks for pajamas. His suit jacket hung over the couch and his white button up laid untucked and wrinkled against his torso as he apathetically listened to the news.

He’d stay like this—still and unfeeling until he had the energy to do it all again. At least Laurie didn’t require him to be fake—no she simply accepted that he accepted her infidelity and that if she were to comment on his behavior it would only backfire on her forcing them both into that ever looming, uncomfortable, conversation.

Andy had just began to zone out fully, the commercial for LED sprinkler lights turning into white noise—when the soft taps of feet sounded from the stairs. Your soft hums surrounding him in a sirens call—a warning of his inevitable fate.

His breathing became rigged—his eyes sealed shut as if he were an animal playing dead, hoping you’d walk right past him and out the front door—because if you didn’t, he knew he’d become just like Laurie. He knew he would no longer have the right to be bitter.

He would be just as guilty—thus no longer having the upper hand.

The smell of your floral-y perfume began to surround him. Sweet and warm—just what a girl like you should be—and it caused him to tightly grip the expensive leather couch.

“Mr. Barber? I know you’re awake~” You’d giggled. Andy had sensed your presence had gotten closer—he assumed you had now been standing directly in front of him—probably twirling your hair like some sick-man’s favorite porn star, giving him those big alien-fuckdoll ‘fuck me’ eyes.

“Mr. Barber? a-are you okay? you’ve been down here for a few hours and—” you’d carried on worriedly. Andy’s eyes finally cracked open—you were worried about him. And it had caused Andy to swoon.

Taking you in, he began to realize you’d looked nothing like he expected you to, well besides the checkered skirt and teddy bear soft sweater, no instead of alien-fuckdoll-pornstar, you looked worried. Your smaller soft hands fidgeted with each other and your eyebrows pulled together from nerves. Andy felt the strong urge to grab you—pull you into him and hold you until your concern suffocated him. Not that Andy had felt love, real love, in such a long time—but a small voice was gnawing at him to give it to you.

When you had gotten no response you moved closer—now standing between his spread legs, watching as his emotionless eyes darted across your face. So you tried again. “Mr. Barber I really think you should go to bed—or eat something. Andy—”

“You think I need to go to bed?” Andy asked, his eyes not giving way to his intentions. His voice was gruff—and tired. It made you nervous.

“I-I do, Sir.”

Andy hummed at your response, as if thinking it over. A darkness emitting from his actions.

“No. No, I don’t need that. Figure something else out. What do I really need y/n?” Andy urged, not bothering to hide his smirk and not really caring that he let you see. You looked so scared—worried for him but so so scared.

“I know you’re a smart girl, honey. Go on—show me what I need.” He urged, thick thighs spreading Knowing—hoping you’d get the hint.

You swallowed harshly. You weren’t oblivious to sex, you weren’t a virgin. But you’d never slept with someone so much older than you, someone married, and you had never even been able to cum or even sucked a cock before. Yet, you were curious—would he be gentle with you?

Slowly you sank down, the dark rug scraping against your knees surely leaving burns. Being eye-level with his bulge but refusing to look towards it.

Andy’s heart swelled with pride at how well you obeyed. “That’s all it takes, Honey? Just need a’ man to be a’ little bit bossy and you’re happy to be on your knees.” He belittled, watching as your puffy cheeks flushed red. “Go on then, baby, take daddy’s cock out. We both know that’s what you’re here for.”

A pathetic whine crawled it’s way up your throat and passed through your lips before you could catch it—adding onto your embarrassment. Shakily you moved to unbutton his slacks, fingers lightly brushing against the outline of his cock. Andy groaned at the sight of you—Your pretty eyes well up with salty tears, pouty bottom lip caught by your teeth, trying to free his cock without actually touching it.

For a moment Andy thought—No you couldn’t possibly—

“Honey,” Andy drawled, taking your dainty hands in his. His touch and tone suddenly much softer. “Has a man ever gotten you on your knees like this, Honey?”

Suddenly heat flooded your being—either from embarrassment or excitement or both. You quickly hid away from his questioning eyes, afraid to tell him that: No, you hadn’t ever been on your knees for a man before.

Andy’s thumb began to rub small shapes around your hands. Soothing you as he waited for an answer before realizing that the younger girl in front of him hadn’t. He felt as if he’d struck gold—the universe was giving him what he rightfully deserved.

“Look at me, Baby.” He commanded, grasping you chin, tilting your head up. “Answer me this time—has a man ever gotten on his knees for you, Honey?” He didn’t miss the way your thighs began to shake, just slightly.

“I-I…I don’t know what you…No. No sir—”

A savage growl ripped through the room and before you knew it—you were sprawled out on the couch, pillow under your head, and Andy between your thighs.

“Fuck baby,” He groaned, taking in your wetness that had by now ruined the delicate fabric of your panties, “Daddy’s gonna eat this little pussy, m’kay, baby? Then when daddy’s done,” he paused, leaving starved kisses and bites along the insides of your thighs. “You’re gonna gonna take me—lemme claim you, honey”

His words had your head spinning. Here you were, about to let a man twice your age, a married man, eat you out on his couch. Andy’s hands moved up your thighs, leaving little excited tingles, before settling on your hips. “Fuck. These little panties are so fucking cute, Honey.” He admired, tugging at the little black bow that sat above the white lace. “Andy don’t-" you tried to stop him from ripping the lace, because you too thought they were cute, only to receive a harsh strike to the outside of your thigh. “Don’t go dumb on me already, little girl. I told you to call me something, not any of this ‘Andy’ bullshit.” Before you could even muster an ‘I’m sorry Daddy’ he was ripping them down your thighs, before diving into your pussy.

The sounds spilling from his mouth mixed with your own wetness was so obscene it had you shuffling away from the embarrassment, only for his left hand to land on your tummy, firmly holding you in place. “God—fuck I should have done this a long fucking time ago,” he said between breaths, “could have been in this pretty pussy instead of waiting on my goddamn whore of a wife.”

His wife. Oh god his fucking wife. “a-andy we c-cant! what if l-laurie walks in?” you tremble, terrified of being caught with your friend’s—father’s face between your thighs by said friend’s mother. Your protest only seem to egg him on. A pleasantly painful burn making its appearance on your skin—due to the friction of his beard.

“Laurie,” Andy spits, “doesn’t fucking matter.” His words are harsh. And a part of you hurts for Laurie, but that hurt quickly vanishes as your visions begins to fuzz and tummy begins to tighten—suddenly all you can focus on is the impending approach—not your guilt. Your thighs clamp around Andy’s head, and he welcomes the pressure—happy to be making his girl feel her first real orgasm. He even chuckles when they begin to shake.

“You gonna cum, little girl? Cum on daddy’s tongue?” He patronizes, fingers harshly flicking your bud before he begins to fuck you with his tongue.

“a-andy! I think—It feels funny—im gonna,”

“Say it, baby. Tell daddy you’re gonna cum.”

“Im cumming, Daddy!”

Your hands tightly grasp his brown locks as stars begin to cloud your eyes. Crying out a series of whines and ‘thank you Daddy’’s. The sensitivity of it all becoming too much as his tongue laps up your slick.

You had never experienced something so intensely before—your body was giving out, ready to fall into a warm sleep.

That is—until his dark chuckles began to surround your hazzy mind.

“I tire you out, honey?” He laughed, leaning over your smaller frame. “Can’t believe you’ve been starving me of this cute little body.”

His fingers were gentle—lightly tracing the teeth marks he’d left along the inside of your thigh. They hurt and were still very fresh but you found his touch comforting—almost sweet.

“a-andy? can I ask you something?” Your soft voice broke through the silence.

Andy hummed, blue eyes intense but encouraging you to continue.

“Andy…can you kiss me?”

In that moment he knew. He knew you couldn’t just be a simple fuck. Or some simple slut he used to take his marital frustrations out on.

You had a future so different from his present—and he was willing to use everything at his disposal to solidify that it was with him.

bunny’s note : Thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs are what keeps me writing so feel free to do so!!

Taglist : @themotherofhorses @mgkbabygirl @yessirsargeantbarnes @thedarthpancakes @openup-yourmind @booksandbenbarnes @siriusjohnpotter @clearwatersfalling @juulle987 @leesbadussy @rach2602 @slashersluttt @kitty1960 @phildunphyisadilf @charmed-asylum @dopeqff @pono-pura-vida @peacinourtime82 @buckgasms

#bunny rambles 🎟#Gossip Bun 💋#andy barber x reader #Andy Barber #chris evans characters #chris evans #Dark!Andy Barber x reader #dark!andy barber #Daddy!Andy Barber x reader #ari levinson x reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!steve #dilf steve rogers

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angelbaby-fics · 4 months

Note

Daddy stucky x little reader x little Peter where the reader is in babyspace and want to give them paci kisses and everytime she does she start to giggle 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Paci Kisses

Word Count: 640

A/N: Eeeep this idea is so so cute, thank you for requesting it!!! I don't know what else to say about this one other than I had a sweet time writing it & I hope you enjoy! 💕

Steve and Bucky were so very in love, and they weren’t afraid to show it. Every morning when Steve put breakfast down on the table, he’d kiss Bucky on the lips before they each began eating, their own little way of saying grace. Peter would always giggle, usually regressed around that silly age when kisses meant cooties, but you were too little to understand. Every time one of them left the house, they’d share a kiss; sometimes even just when one of them left the room. You were so tiny, you didn’t fully comprehend what it meant, your brain only really working in concepts. All you knew was that daddies meant love, and daddies kissed a lot, so kisses must mean love too. You wanted to return the favor.

That morning, you were woken up by Steve’s strong arms lifting you out of your crib. You blinked sleepily and smiled at him from behind your paci, your cheeks rounding out and your eyes squinting as you did so.

“Good morning angel, I love you,” Steve greeted, always wanting the first thing you heard every morning to be words of love. He kissed you on the forehead and shifted you into the crook of his arm so he could carry you out into the living room with one hand. As he did so, you leaned forward, tapping the plastic of your pacifier against his cheek.

“Woah, what was that, baby?” Steve asked with a slight chuckle. He didn’t think you’d really be violent with him, but he wasn’t sure what you could be doing when you clumsily headbutted his cheek.

You were too small to explain it, your little brain couldn’t find the words. All you could think to do was kiss him, over and over and over.

“Mwah, mwah, mwah!” You mumbled softly from behind the paci, softening your taps in the hopes he’d get the memo. And boy did he. “Is that a kiss? Are you kissing daddy?” Steve asked with wide, excited eyes and laughter in his voice.

You nodded, giggling as you kissed him again, again, again. Steve kissed you back, planting his lips on the plastic, which made you giggle even more. Then, he carried you into the living room where Bucky and Peter were, with a huge grin on his face.

“Buck! Look what our baby can do!” He said with glee, and then tapped on his cheek, motioning for you to kiss him once more, which you did joyously.

Bucky cheered and clapped for you, getting up from the couch to give a standing ovation, which made you beam even harder from behind the paci.

“Can I have one, babydoll?” He asked eagerly, and you nodded, reaching out from Steve’s arms towards Bucky’s.

You happily kissed your Baba all over his face, giggling after each one until eventually the kisses devolved into you just nuzzling your paci across his cheeks like a puppydog. Steve joined the cuddlefest on the couch, pinching your little round cheeks. Peter had been distracted from his toys since the moment you entered the room, watching your interactions with captivated awe, but he finally couldn’t stand it anymore. He stood up, letting a toy car fall from his hand with a clatter.

“‘S not fair! I want kisses too!” He whined with a pout.

You didn’t want your Petie to feel left out, you loved him just as much as you loved your daddies of course. You reached out to him now, kicking your little feet with delight as he ran over to the three of you. Now your whole family was together on the couch, and you took turns kissing each of them, and each of them took turns kissing you. You’d already mastered your newest skill, and you couldn’t wait to keep practicing every single day.

#little!reader #stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #bucky x little!reader #steve rogers x little!reader #daddy!bucky #daddy!steve #cg!bucky #cg!steve #cg x little!reader #peter x little!reader #little!peter x little!reader #marvel agere #agere fic #chloe's fic

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haleyhunwritess · 1 year

Note

hi haley love, i’m probably sending too many requests i’m so sorry i just feel like i’m being heard here and i feel seen. i’ve been having so many panic and anxiety attacks and i was wondering if you can write something where broken promises stucky help the reader get through it or honestly whoever you’d like. i love you and i hope you’re doing good 🥺

𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬

warning: anxiety/panic attack, mentions of anxious feelings, angst, fluff, dd/lg themes, soft!dark!stucky x little!reader

a/n: hi sweetheart, i'm so sorry you've been feeling that way love 🥺 but i hope you're doing a lot better now and you can always talk to me if you need help, my dms are always open my love <33 also i know you said broken promises but i think this could work as a general fic and for broken promises too, i hope you like it lovely <33 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"Sweetheart I need you to put your coat on so that we can leave, we're already very behind on our schedule today. We still have to make dinner when we come home, I promised Steve we would try to cook tonight." Bucky rambled as he quickly slipped his boots on.

It had been kind of a hectic morning. Lots of errands to run, lots of things that needed to be done before a peaceful night in with Steve, who was coming back home after two weeks away.

However, when you woke up this morning, your head was pounding and it felt like heart was about to burst out of your chest. You were feeling uneasy as anxious thoughts were running through your head about everything and nothing at the same time. You didn't know why but sometimes you would have days like these where your anxiety got the best of you, and traumatic memories from your past felt like they occurred moments ago.

You needed a mental health day. There was no way you'd be able to handle a whole day of running errands with Bucky. Even getting out of bed this morning felt like an impossible task.

Of course if you told him how you were feeling, he'd be understanding, and he could help you feel better too. But you were in no mood to talk about your feelings.

It seems unfair but you were hoping Bucky would be able to just sense how you're feeling so you wouldn't have to vocalize how you felt. Normally Bucky would have noticed that you were feeling triggered, however, with it being a stressful and busy day, he was too busy trying to complete everything on his to-do list for today before Steve came home.

Unfortunately, with all these anxiety built up in your chest and how exhausted you were after helping Bucky clean the house, you were feeling more and more vulnerable. You felt so weak. So small. And Bucky had yet to notice.

For some reason, he assumed you were being difficult because of little things that happened throughout the day. First, you ran out of your favourite cereal for breakfast. Then, while you were picking up the dishes from the table, you spilled chocolate milk on one of your favourite sweaters.

There were some other small incidences but after each one Bucky assured you there is an easy fix, and that after today, things would be less chaotic.

Currently, he was trying to get you to slip your coat on but instead you just stood there in front of the front door, huffing with your arms crossed. Normally, Bucky would've laughed and called you adorable for trying to look intimidating but right now he was only getting annoyed since you were now an hour behind on your schedule.

"Baby please just listen to me, just this once. We can even have get my girl a new stuffie while we're out?" Bucky crouched down in front of you, trying to help you put your sneakers on. He could tell you were starting to feel kind of small, and he knew he might be able to bribe you with the promise of a stuffie.

Instead, you just shook your head and kicked him as he tried to put your sneakers on your feet for you. He groaned slightly in pain ad stood up immediately, all the patience having left his body at this point.

"Okay, put your shoes and your coat on right now, and meet me by the car in five minutes, understood?" He snapped. He was clearly very upset with your behaviour and he was not in the mood to deal with it right now.

You were frustrated and feeling even more little now, and you couldn't figure out what to do. All you knew was that you did not want to go out. You just wanted to stay home. Deciding to leave without saying a word, you picked up the sneakers and threw them at the front door before starting to walk away and towards the stairs. However, you didn't get very far as Bucky caught your arm and roughly picked you up in his strong arms. Judging from the expression on his face, he was certainly angry now if he wasn't before.

"What did I just tell you, huh? I'm not in the mood to deal with a brat today. When I put you down, you're going to pick up your sneakers and put them on before joining me outside by the car, is that clear?" He said sternly, while still trying not to lose his temper. Tears started to fill your eyes as soon as you heard his harsh tone towards you, and they almost fell as you noticed he nearly rolled his eyes at them, "Don't you dare with the tears, or I’ll give you something to cry about, doll."

After that, you couldn't help it anymore. Tears started rapidly streaming down your face as you sobbed uncontrollably in his arms. Bucky was shocked at first, he didn't realize you were this upset. He instantly began to apologize as he carried you over to the couch.

Whispering, sweet gentle words and apologizes while trying to calm you down was clearly not going to work this time. No matter how hard he tried to comfort you, you were inconsolable. You could feel your entire body shaking, and no matter how hard Bucky tried to calm you down, you just felt like your heart was on fire. It was getting more and more difficult to breathe. Moving your hand up to rub your chest gently, you tried to get yourself to slow down and work on your breathing. Bucky quickly caught on and carefully picked you up from his lap and put you down on the couch. He quickly got up, and sat down in front of the couch, kneeling in front of you.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's alright, baby. I've got you." He took your other hand in his, rubbing it gently while trying to get you to focus on him, "Just look at me, baby. I need you to look at me so I can help you, babygirl. I need you to focus on my breathing, okay? Do you think you can do that for me sweet girl?"

You looked at him for a second before carefully nodding, making him smile. He leaned up for a second to give you a quick kiss before settling back down and trying to help you again.

Focusing on Bucky, and trying to follow as him as he instructed you to take deep breaths with him. It seemed to be working, however, the anxious thoughts were still there. You didn't know how to tell Bucky though you knew he'd definitely wanna know what just happened.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Bucky said, as if he just read your mind, "I mean if you want to talk about it then I'm here for you, but I don't want you to feel like you have to. I just wanna know whether or not you're okay, doll."

"I..." You looked away, feeling even more nervous than before. It felt like your body was screaming at you to tell him why you were acting this way and how you felt right now. But you just couldn't, "I just want to be alone for a bit. I don't want to go out, I know you need to get some errands done but I don't think I wanna come with."

"Fuck the errands. So what if we order in again? No big deal, who cares. I need to make sure that you're okay, I can't just leave you alone after that."

"But I'd rather be alone right now, I promise I'm alright." You muttered nervously.

"Sweetheart, are you feeling little at all? Do you think you need da-" Bucky tried pulling you onto his lap to hug you, but instead you pushed him away and interrupted him.

"I'm not. I wanna be left alone." You nearly snapped as you got off the couch. You didn't know why but you were feeling very angry all of a sudden. The anxiety was still there but the implication of being too weak, vulnerable, or small to handle this on your own was making you a little frustrated.

"Umm alright, sweetheart, if you're sure. I guess I'll see you in an hour then, doll?" Bucky got up from the couch awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he felt slightly confused about what just happened. He knew it was a bad idea to leave you alone but he wanted to respect your decision and give you your space. He quickly left after that, and the second you heard him drive off in his car, you fell back on the couch and started crying once again.

You felt weaker than before and somehow the horrible feeling had reached your stomach making you feel a bit queasy. You couldn't help but wish that you hadn't asked Bucky to leave you alone. You wished that Steve was here too. You felt so small right now, you did not want to be alone. You curled up into a little ball on the couch and hoped that Bucky would be back soon.

After about ten more minutes of crying, you heard the front door open. You quickly looked up from the couch, hoping Bucky had decided to abandon his errands and come home to you instead. However, to your surprise, it seemed that Steve had come home a few hours early, He strolled into the living room towards you with a beaming smile on his face as he was excited to see his girl after being away for so long. Although, that smile disappeared pretty quickly when he noticed your tear-stained face.

"Oh no, pretty girl, what happened to you? Are you hurt?" Steve knelt down in front of you, looking at you with his concern-filled eyes. You quickly shook your head in reply, letting him know that you're not hurt. He could already tell that you were feeling little right now, and didn't seem to be up for much talking, "Bubba, where's Bucky? Why isn't he here with you right now?"

"He left...errands..." You mumbled, looking down at the ground, feeling guilty for practically kicking Bucky out of the house. You looked up at Steve and felt your guilt getting even worse when you noticed the shift in his demeanour. Watching him take his phone out of his pocket and angrily text someone.

"Baby come on, let's get you upstairs to bed for now, okay?" Steve said as he gently rubbed your back for a bit before getting up to you carry you upstairs in his arms. You heard his phone buzz in his pocket, and he stopped in his tracks to check and see what it was before continuing to walk upstiars again.

On the way to your room, you couldn't help but lean into Steve's touch making him smile slightly. He kissed the top of your head before gently putting you down on your bed.

You gulped, feeling guilty about receiving all these sweet attention from him while he clearly seemed mad at Bucky for leaving you alone when you told him what happened downstairs. Although, it was you who asked him to leave you alone, "Daddy please don't be mad. I asked him to leave."

Steve frowned at your words before shaking his head in reply, "Sweet girl, I'm not angry. I'm sorry I made you feel that way but I promise I'm not, okay?"

You slowly nodded in response, still unconvinced. Steve sighed in response and began gently rubbing your back as he spoke, "I'm not angry, I'm just a little upset that Bucky wasn't here while you were feeling this way, pretty girl."

You gulped before answering him in a quiet tone, "I asked him to leave me alone."

"Why would you do that, pretty girl?" Steve asked, although he already knew what happened as Bucky already texted him and explained the situation to him. He was upset that Bucky left, but he wasn't angry once Bucky explained that you asked him to leave. Now, he was just upset that you were all alone while feeling this way.

"Was feeling anxious...didn't wanna talk about it...still don't. Don't really know why I asked him to leave. I'm sorry..." You said, sniffling near the end of your sentence as the tears started flowing down your cheeks once again.

"Oh my sweet girl, it's okay, it's alright. There's no need to apologize, okay? Sometimes feelings like anxiety, or even sadness, make us do silly things. It happens to all of us, even me and Bucky." He carefully wiped your tears away before leaning down to kiss your forehead, "I'm right here, okay? I've got you, sweetheart. You just get some rest, and when Bucky comes home, we'll have a nice night in with some of your favourite pasta and whatever movie you want to watch, okay?"

You smiled and nodded your head in response. Steve smiled back at you and leaned down to kiss you again before getting up to pick up your favourite stuffie for you to cuddle with as you took your much needed nap.

taglist/moots: @starobi @chrisevansdaughter @cherryflavoredchapsticck @livvinitt @marvel1984 @babyhoneyriv @babyhatesreality @timidpumpkin @matchat3a @pono-pura-vida @sonalokibarnes @alex-ackerman-11 @ailathealternate @buckysugar

#daddy!steve #daddy!bucky #soft!dark fic #soft!dark bucky barnes #soft!dark!stucky x little!reader #soft!bucky #soft bucky #soft!dark steve rogers #soft!dark bucky x reader #soft!dark steve x reader #soft steve rogers #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #bucky x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers fic #brokenpromisesblurb #brokenpromisesseries #brokenpromisesau!

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timidpumpkin · 10 months

Text

Little Light (Stucky x reader)

Part 4: Retribution

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: While you're left feeling hopelessly confused, it's clear to Steve and Bucky that you have a lot to learn about being their good little girl.

Warnings for this part: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Forced age regression, DDLG themes, Female reader, Manipulation, Violence against reader, Being tied up, Hints to sexual themes, This one's dark folks, Mean Steve and Bucky, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

As always, lemme know if I missed any!!

Notes: Thank you to everyone who has supported me since I posted Part 1 many many months ago. I love you all and appreciate your support and kind words more than I can express. I'm super nervous to post this one so i'm really hoping everyone likes it. ^.^

Tagging: @ppatricia34me @canyonmooncreations @haleyhunwritess

(lemme know if you wanna be added to my taglist!)

P.S. Please feel free to comment/ask questions as they are a million times appreciated as I ALWAYS love to read you guy's thoughts!

(pictures are not my own)

Warm.

The cozy temperature surrounding you beckons you to sink further into its comfortable drowsy feeling. It feels nice–good. It’s comfortable as you pull at the blanket wrapped around you to cover the cold tip of your nose.

When you do though, adjusting as you move, adrenaline rushes through you.

All sense of tranquility leaps out of your body to be replaced by standing hairs and cold blood as you realize you’re not napping in your bed.

No–you’re napping on your capture’s lap.

Hazy memories from just a bit ago replay in your mind. The picture they paint is fogged up by an overcast of intense emotion.

Worry. Fear. Shock.

The panic you felt is now an almost disembodied ghost, content with hiding in the closet as it knows you can’t handle its presence anymore.

Not right now.

It would be too much. Your body and mind having already fought till every single cell within you is doused with exhaustion.

The wispy wave of relief you felt–feel–now molds into another feeling. It rips the comfort your body so desperately clings to at this moment of peril and unkindly reminds you that you shouldn’t have let your guard down.

But you did.

You–as you see it–involuntarily allowed the very person, no, the very people who have snatched you, took you from your, albeit, unexcitingly ordinary–but otherwise stable–life, to soothe the very predicament they have forced you in.

As you recall their hushed voices anchoring you, steady hands smoothing your trembling ones, and sweet comfort that you somehow found in their pacifying of you, the one emotion you painfully feel now is…embarrassment. It aligns with disgrace you feel within yourself for giving into…this.

You stiffen, body frozen in place as you become acutely aware of your situation again. Both the larger reality of being held hostage, and the other–ever so slightly smaller issue–that currently places your head nestled right in your captor’s lap. Bucky’s lap.

This is what you found so comforting in your sleep state?

Head wedged exactly between his legs, resting heavily against his lower half. Your hands curled up. You stare at them. They lay right in front of your view. Almost too close to your vision where you watch them resting, palms nestled down between his thighs.

But it’s not just your position. It’s his too. One of his arms is resting against you, draped over your side, his hand sprawled just at your navel, adding to the welcoming warmth you felt upon waking up. The other, languidly stroking your head with his thumb.

It’s an intimate position–close–in more ways than one. It’s not one you should be in, it’s not one you’re in voluntarily–despite what your last memories torturously remind you.

“You get enough sleep there, princess?” Bucky’s voice calls. You haven’t spoken a word but he must be able to tell you’re awake. Whether it’s from how your muscles have tensed, or the way you’ve been holding your breath since, is unknown to you.

You can’t see him. Your eyes are too intensely focused on how your hands rest with faux intimacy at his thighs and the realization of how long you’ve been in this position makes your lungs feel as if they don’t work anymore.

“You really scared Dada you know,” he moves his hand from your navel to caress your arm as he lends forward a bit to get a better view of your face. Still, frozen in place, you don't meet his gaze. Your self-preservation response only knows how to freeze now as you don’t move, but keep looking forward, completely unsure of how to tackle the situation you’re in.

Waves of memory come back to you. It’s blurry as you remember how scared you were. You remember how Steve calmed you. How his voice led you to placidity. How could that be? It’s what led you to the position you're in now.

Vulnerable. Again. And yet, you let it happen.

But you didn’t, no–you couldn’t–you don't remember exactly with anxiety fogging up your memory.

You knew one thing for sure; you couldn’t give in.

“Not going to ignore Daddy now, are you?” Bucky questions, taking his hand to your chin and facing it upwards so you’re looking up to him. Somehow, it’s still shocking how large he looks. You feel as though you've somehow been shrunk down a third of your size when looking at him. His hand is mostly just ghosting your face, guiding it up as he looms over you, one cheek smooshed against his navel now as his hand remains on the other.

“Hmm?” he questions, his pointer finger tapping methodically on your cheek, prompting you to answer. “Don’t tell me you forgot your manners already now, doll.”

“I-I wanna go home,” You try to sit up, not exactly sure why you said that, as recent events have told you already it’s not what he wants to hear. But you’re just not sure about anything at the moment. He looks at you with a displeased look, face dropping into an unkind frown.

His hold on you tightens; his forearm presses down on your chest lightly, silently reminding you that trying to move would be a bad idea. You don’t fight it, knowing you wouldn’t be able to succeed in getting up even if your life depended on it.

“You are home.” he declares curtly, before swiftly picking you up, dizzying you as he turns you around. You feel as though you’ve barely blinked before you’re in the new position. Your back is to his stomach as he situates you on his lap. His right arm wraps snugly around your waist, firmly securing you against his body. His left hand reaches in front and clasps around your cheeks, the cool metal instantly raising goosebumps on your once warm face as he slowly tilts your head back and forth for you, forcing you to look around the room.

“You see all this?” he lilts with a scolding undertone. “This is your home. All of it.” he pauses before–somehow–squeezing you closer to him. He brings his head to the side of your ear. His chest flush against your back, engulfing your body, and encapsulating your very being with how he maintains his grip on your face. His breath dances lightly against your ear as he speaks, adding to the chilling feeling overtaking your insides.

“Now what would you call a house where two Daddies take care of their little baby?” He speaks in a low, hushed tone. Not a sweet one–like the hushed subdued one Steve used on you just hours ago–No, Bucky’s tone is polar to that. It’s mocking, and sardonic as you can almost feel the smirk gracing his face without even looking at him. It’s as if he’s asking the most rhetorical question known to man. “Hmm?”

You feel your own breathing pick up. It becomes evident with how every millimeter your chest moves, your lungs have to fight against the pressure of Bucky’s heavy arms around you. Your mind is blank as fright starts to fill it instead. How were you supposed to answer that?

When you take too long to respond, Bucky promptly pinches at your side and simultaneously squeezes your cheeks harder, causing a retaliatory yelp out of you.

“Ah! I-I don’t know!” you squirm around at the pain that certainly doesn’t help you think.

He promptly covers your mouth with a shush, his sizable metallic hand swallowing up your face as you squeak dully now into his solid palm.

“No yelling now, doll.” He turns your face towards him so he can look at you as he speaks. He glances quickly at the closed bedroom door before looking back at you. “Answer Daddy’s question.” He directs, “I know you’re a smart girl.” he grins at you, and though–in most contexts–that would sound like a compliment, his tone is decidedly condescending as he continues. “But I’ll repeat my question, just in case my silly little girl forgot.” he smiles snidely at you for a brief moment before continuing. “What do you call a house where two Daddies take care of their little girl?” He says the question more slowly this time, eerily calm but just as patronizing as he goes.

You stare at him with wide eyes as he carefully removes his hand from your mouth. He doesn’t have to speak the words as his eyes alone tell you not to yell again. His fingers remain on your face, retaking their previous position of gripping your chin as he looks at you expectantly.

“...home…” you breathe meekly, voice almost cracking as you do, hoping that was the right answer.

“Good girl,” he roughly pats at your cheek with a slightly more authentic smile. “that’s exactly right.” he praises. You then hear some movement coming from the bedroom. Bucky glances that way before speaking to you again with a stern glare in his eye. “Now when Dada comes in here, you won't say any of those silly little thoughts, will you?” he asks presumptuously. You shake your head agreeably, and when Bucky’s head tilts with a clench of his jaw, you answer promptly out loud.

“Yes, Daddy” you quiver. He smiles at you, and as if on cue, Steve emerges from the door. There's a towel around his neck and he ruffles it around his hair before spotting you, his face lighting up when he does.

“Hi there angel,” he beams and leans down to you, instantly taking in the sight in front of him.

Your adorable frame sitting atop his partner's lap. You looked so perfect right there. As if you were the last puzzle piece missing his entire life, now fitting together so seamlessly that it just looks like a painting. A beautiful one. Steve isn’t sure how they went without you before. Your soft face still holds a frayed look. His poor girl. He was hoping a little bit of rest would ease your frazzled little mind.

“You feeling a bit better after your nap?” Steve asks with a loving tone as he carefully picks you up from Bucky’s lap. He situates you so that you are on his hip, one arm supporting your bottom with legs wrapped around his side as he guides your arms around his neck. You fit so nicely around him like this. He almost wishes he could stop time and freeze this moment forever. Being able to hold you like this, he’s never felt so whole, so complete. You feel tense in his arms, but he knows one day…that won’t be the case. You’ll lean fully in, wholly relying on and giving yourself to them both. He’s eager for every moment leading to it and each subsequent instant after.

Steve’s cold and wet hair tickles your arms. Being so close, you can’t help but notice the crisp comforting aroma that emits from his warm skin.

For some reason, you look to Bucky as if he holds the answer to Steve’s question. He just glares at you with a slight scowl that dares you to misbehave before standing up after too long of silence on your part.

“She’s still feeling a bit confused.” Bucky caresses you, palm enveloping the side of your face. “Huh, doll?”

“Awh…” Steve joins in on stroking your face by soothing the back of your head. “well that’s okay angel. Babies get confused so easily.” he says with that underlying patronizing but sweet tone he uses. “Why don’t you let Dada check you, huh?” he asks while looking you up and down. You then feel all blood draining from your face as your eyes go wide, having no idea what he means by that.

You look between him and Bucky frantically as Steve gently grabs one of your hands from behind his neck. You instinctively try pulling away but his grip tightens before you’re able to.

“Now now, don’t be scared,” Steve assures sweetly, a stark contrast to the death grip on your hand. “Dada just needs to look at those pesky little marks we had to leave on you last night,” he explains while unraveling you from him and setting you back down on the couch where he kneels in front of you. Your body trembles in anticipation–for what exactly, doesn’t matter.

You can’t control it as he diligently peels your socks off and rolls your leggings up to look underneath. He takes his time tracing the deformed marks with his fingertips, lifting up your ankles as he goes before making his way to your arms. He tugs on them gently in front of you and repeats his previous examination as if he’s mapping out every little laceration. “You don’t want any more of these…do you, babygirl?” Steve lilts, an ever so slightly threatening tone lacing his otherwise calm voice as he presses his fingers down, digging just harshly enough into where a bruise must be forming and causing you to jolt at the pain.

“Ah!-n-no!” you yelp pitifully quick at the discomfort.

“No…what?” Steve prods with false grace before pressing harder into your skin.

“N-no Dada!…ah!...please.” you shakily breathe the last word with a plea, pathetically pulling on your arms that don’t move an inch under his hold.

“Good girl,” he praises with a mischievous smile, and unclenches his painful grip, but doesn’t let go completely, instead, keeping a firm hold on you.

He steadily lifts your wrists up…to his lips. They ghost your skin as he glints at you with a soft smirk before placing slow…slow kisses along the marked-up lines.

Warm lips meet the welts that are painted all across and up your arms from where you were bound–corporal reminders of what disobeying meant–he trails each one of them, dragging his lips and dousing each inch of burning skin with tender kisses, his grip remaining its powerful hold so you remain immobile.

When he makes his way to your upper arm, you physically resist from full-on screaming. A quick glance to Bucky with your sorrowful eyes reveals no mercy from him. He just glares at you, a deadpan look on his face but a teasing smirk in his eyes that dares you to make a noise.

Steve lifts his head up to face you after planting his last kiss on your upper arm, just a hair's breadth from your face. Your head has already pushed itself back as far as it’ll go as the rest of your body is ensnared by his that hovers atop yours. Thick air surrounds you as your trembles turn to full-on shaking, watching him as his eyes don’t even meet yours. His blown pupils are intensively fixated on your lips now.

They look so soft.

Time itself seems frozen, all except a slow-motion icy droplet that falls from the tips of his hair. It lands atop soft cotton, dampening the fabric on your chest that ripples chills throughout you. He follows it, dark eyes lowering to where sensitive skin is hidden by the dainty onesie Bucky dressed you in earlier. You feel heat taking over the arctic sensation within you as he looks at your body with what you can only prescribe as desire–want.

But to your–very minuscule–relief he looks back up to your eyes, and gives you a quick smile, before leaning back on his knees again in front of you with a satisfied smile adorning his face.

“Might take a while for those to heal up,” he remarks, “but don’t worry, Daddy and I will give them lots of kisses to help them heal.” he smiles at you.

“What do you say, doll?” Bucky speaks up, crossing his arms.

A confused and worried look that causes your eyebrows to furrow comes over your face, unsure of what he wants when you’ve barely gotten your heart to stop pounding from the previous predicament.

Bucky decides–for now–he’ll key you in. Mostly because he doesn’t like seeing his Stevie all upset when you don’t do as you were told.

He mouths a “thank you” with a cock of his head motioning towards Steve below him.

“Th-thank you…D-dada” you squeak, voice uncontrollably shaky.

“Oh, such a good girl. My good little girl,” Steve beams at you before standing up. “Oh…poor thing,” he remarks while looking down at your trembling form. “You must be freezing,” he states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Dada will go get you a sweater. Stay right here,” he instructs before trailing off.

When he comes back, there's more than just an extra garment in his hand.

“Now later you can play upstairs all you want, but right now,” he speaks while setting down a few colorful-looking books and a box of crayons on the coffee table. “Daddy and I need to watch you and make sure you stay safe,” He then motions for you to move your arms up so he can put the sweatshirt he brought for you on. He carefully moves your arms and head through the holes and then leads you to the coffee table. “You can color as long as you like, angel, just make sure to tell us if you need anything, like water…or juice, okay?”

You nod your head complacently at him while he holds your hand looking down at you.

“Okay-I mean-I-yes…Dada” you fumble before kneeling down on the carpet yourself in front of the variety of coloring books.

You don’t want to color. But–genuinely–what choice do you have? You could protest, but it wouldn’t lead anywhere beneficial.

You scan the playful books in front of you, trying to find some solace in the fact that maybe focusing on this would at least mean less nerve-wracking interactions with…them.

It shouldn't matter–which picture you settle on–with your brain still rattled from before, only you can’t help but feel choosy about the drawing you pick. You flip through the books, dog-earing the ones that pique your interest before settling on a foresty scene that depicts two large sleeping wolves and a little rabbit nestled right in the middle.

For some perplexing reason, the crayon box decides it doesn’t want to be opened by your frail fingers. Steve quickly notices your frustrated struggle with it and instructs you to hand it to him so he can open it for you. You groan at the box and mutter something about how you ‘got it.’

You don’t see his eye squint and eyebrow raise as he watches you fumble with it for a moment longer, but you do feel him taking the box from your hands.

“I don’t want you hurting those precious little fingers of yours now,” He smoothly opens the box and hands it back to you with a pet to your head.

At some point, Bucky notices your tired posture and offers you a pillow to sit on before moving the coffee table closer to the couch so you can rest your back on the cushiony sofa. He moves it effortlessly as if the table wouldn’t break your back if you tried to move it.

You mumble an assenting “thank you daddy” to which Bucky responds. “You’re welcome, sweet girl” with a wink and you withhold from sticking your tongue out at him.

Either one or both of them remain in the room with you for the rest of the evening, checking on you every so often. You attempt to keep your attention on remaining within the lines when you color, but you can’t help the way your unnerved hands still shake, causing you–to your annoyance–to occasionally strike outside the lines.

By the time the sun has long set, and the only thing illuminating the paper in front of you is warm artificial light, you find yourself yawning with your head sideways on the table as you color. Whiffs of savory smells dance through your nose as Bucky has been in the kitchen for the last little bit preparing dinner.

“Getting sleepy babygirl?” Steve asks, peering down at you and your drawings. You shrug your shoulders, unsure of which answer would allow you the most leniency.

“Oh, that one is just perfect,” he remarks while bending over and picking up the forest scene you colored first. It was hidden amongst other drawings that you had shuffled to the side. He holds it up and takes a good look at it. “You did such a good job,” he compliments. “I think this one deserves a place on the fridge” he boasts.

You turn your head back and watch in curiosity as he really does make his way to the kitchen and secures it with a little magnet. He stands back and smiles in satisfaction while you go back to coloring, feigning that you never even noticed the proud expression radiating off his body, and positively pretending that your insides didn’t go soft for a brief moment watching him.

Steve and Bucky chatter while setting the table. You try to tunnel in on their voices but you can’t exactly make out what they’re saying as they speak quite lowly to each other.

Steve makes his way to you and takes your hand to guide you to the table. He sets you in the seat furthest away from the door as they both sit rather closely to you–practically trapping you in. You poke at your otherwise appetizing plate as you have little desire to eat with your stomach still turned in tangled knots.

They both encourage you to eat throughout, but you only manage to get a few bites down. Neither of them look particularly happy with you and your full plate. Nevertheless, they stop pushing after a bit and share a knowing look that you can’t make out the meaning of.

You huff a quiet sigh of relief when they take your plate and start cleaning the kitchen, silently feeling as though you won this trivial round of control.

Bucky catches you from the corner of his eye as you take it upon yourself to get out of your chair. He tenses, preparing to snatch you before you can move until he realizes you’re only going to the living room, opposite of where the front door is. He decides to just watch you for a few moments as you go back to coloring with criss-crossed legs.

Innocent little thing. His naive little doll shading away, having not a clue in your pretty little head of how erroneous it was to make your own decisions like that. It really was much too soon for you to truly understand what consequences will come when trying to think for yourself. He can’t exactly blame you though. His poor little baby had to do it for so long before they found you. It’s probably why you’re benignly coloring away with not an idea in your head of what’s really in store for your life here. Such a sweet, sweet little girl they had. All to themselves. Forever now.

He observes how you ferociously analyze and juxtapose the colors before you, even testing them on other miscellaneous paper before choosing the right one for the job.

He already knows you better than you can even comprehend. He knows you’ve likely already thought you’ve gotten away with it.

“What do you think you’re doing little girl?” Bucky’s scolding voice startles you, causing you to jump a little in your spot. After just a second, he roughly yanks you up by your arm, spinning you around to face him as he holds you. “Did Daddy tell you you could leave the table? Hmm? Did Dada?” he fumes, the sudden escalation in action and tone making you want to just cry.

“I-I-” you fumble, squirming uncomfortably below him. “I thought-”

“Oh I don’t think you were thinking anything in that silly little head of yours,” he chastises while pinching one of your cheeks harshly with his free hand. “And did you really think you could get away with not eating?”

“Ah!-” you fight, struggling against him, confused and disoriented on why he’s suddenly being so harsh when you thought you were off the hook.

“Hey-hey, it’s okay,” you hear Steve speaking up behind him. “Let me talk to her Buck,” he says, allowing Bucky to let go of your arm and cheek. You tearfully rub at your hurt cheek while Steve kneels down to your level. “Sweet girl…remember yesterday when daddy gave you apple juice?” he asks, circling his hand behind your ear and gently cupping the cheek that Bucky previously inflicted harshly. You nod smally, glancing away around the room as you recall the unfond memory of being bottle-fed against your will. “Good, then you should know that little girls need their nutrients. And that means no skipping dinner,” he explains with a kind voice that makes you feel as if he's quite literally talking to a child.

“I-okay…Dada” you add, grateful for Steve at least being gracious enough as to not yell at and pinch you like Bucky just was.

“Good girl,” he smiles at you before telling you to sit tight on the couch while he goes to get your dinner. You sit there, a bit perplexed on how he planned on giving you a meal when you’re pretty sure you saw Bucky scrape the remnants of your food into the trashcan.

Steve returns with no plate in hand and sits a bit away from you, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion until you see it.

You watch in horror as he reveals a milky white bottle that he shakes in his hand while speaking to you.

“Come here,” he beckons, patting his spacious thigh. You grimace at the granule liquid that swirls around in the bottle, not unlike the one Bucky used on you yesterday. If you didn't know better–which you don’t–you’d say it quite literally looks like baby formula.

“Uhm…I just…” you trail off, trying to come up with a reason, any reason not to be literally bottle-fed like you were yesterday. “I’m-I’m really not hungry-my-my stomach hurts,” you reason clumsily, but truthfully as well since the only thing filling your stomach right now is queasiness. Most of it coming from your situation, but the grainy texture swirling around in the bottle certainly doesn’t help your appetite either. “And-and I can just eat the other stuff,” you add frantically while looking back to the kitchen and wringing your hands.

“Now this is going to help my sweet girl feel a lot better and sleep real tight,” Steve remarks, completely ignoring your words and requests.

“I-I said I'm not hungry.” you say a bit louder, but with a mild tone as to not sound too combative.

“And I said this will help you sleep,” he asserts while dabbing the tip of the bottle on his wrist. “Now come sit on Dada’s lap,” he demands while patting his thigh again. You shake your head while subtly scooting away from him.

“Mmm-mmm” you hum a no while sliding back even further. “Please, I don’t wan-”

“Did Dada ask what you wanted?” he cuts you off with a cock to his head at you. “No,” he shakes his head, answering his own question patronizingly. “I didn’t. You don’t get to decide what’s good for you. Only Daddy and I know that. Now I won’t ask again. Come here. Now.” he insists sternly. You debate quickly in your head, weighing out your limited options. When you still sit there not moving an inch, Steve sighs and reaches for you. He grabs your arm and pulls you towards him.

“No!” you say in response to the action. He’s not necessarily yanking or being particularly rough, but without thinking, you push back at him, your free hand overshooting and accidentally hitting his shoulder. Of course, it’s like you’ve hit a brick wall, the small action hurting your wrist much more than it likely hurt him at all. But something about it felt…cathartic. And something inside you just…snaps.

You had played nice all day, letting them hold you, touch you, kiss you. Hell–you even sat on the floor for hours and colored while wearing a onesie. And now he wanted to bottle feed you actual formula. You had to draw the line.

You couldn’t give in. The silent promise you made to yourself earlier rings in your head. You weren’t going to drink this stupid bottle.

Steve still has you in his grasp and is pulling you closer to him so that you can be in his lap. Only, you take this opportunity to fight. Hard.

With all the strength you have, you wrench yourself back. Steve quickly encapsulates both your hands, making you feel as though you’ll sooner break your own wrists before you ever successfully free yourself from his grip. You take it upon yourself to switch strategies, maneuvering yourself into a position where you just start kicking at him feverishly. It felt childish. It looked childish. But you didn’t care right now. You weren’t going to play along any longer.

You realize halfway through your nonsensical thrashing fit that Steve is likely just letting you play this out before he decides he’s had enough. He decisively stands up, dragging your combative form with him as he roughly swings you up to throw you over his shoulder. You still fight him, your flailing is joined with nonsensical shrieks as you lash out on him physically and verbally. Steve holds you down atop him firmly while hauling you upstairs. Before you realize it, you’re roughly tossed down into a mattress. The otherwise compliant spread hurts you on impact from the height you fall from. Your swirling vision from being upside down and lack of oxygen in your lungs from screaming leaves you disoriented until your dazed eyes focus on structured parallel bars.

Steve’s thrown you into the very crib he showed you just hours ago.

“That’s just for when you’re feeling extra little,”

You instantly try to stand up only for Steve to effortlessly push you back down, sending you to roughly bounce on your bottom. You clumsily try to regain your balance and breath while Steve reaches for something besides the crib. Before you know it, Steve’s grabbed both your hands and starts heatedly tying them together. Tightly. He ensnares your fingers together and weaves the rope around every inch of your digits up to the middle of your forearm, completely restraining the hands that fought him.

You try getting up again only to find it’s surprisingly hard to move with your hands bound in front of you.

He mutters to you something about ‘not moving’ while making his way to the end of the crib. He abrasively yanks both of your legs down to the edge of the caged mattress and begins tying those together too. You flail hopelessly, hurling unkind words at him while he secures your ankles to the bars, completely immobilizing the legs that were just unabashedly kicking at him.

When you finally catch a glimpse of Steve’s face, his expression is unforgiving. Furrowed eyebrows highlight his intense dark focus as veined arms secure you to the crib.

Steve straightens himself up and towers over you from beside the crib. He just watches you until you decide to give up on fighting, realizing you can’t free yourself from your binds. Your anger slowly turns to just pure sorrow, as you find yourself crying hot tears into your already burning face. You murmur pointless cries asking over and over again to just be let go…

“Angel…” Steve says softly, his features appearing less angered now, but still unhappy nonetheless. “I’m going to give you one more chance,” he kneels down, leveling himself with you from outside your confines. He reaches through the bars and caresses your rope-covered hands. “If you do what Dada says, then I might go easy on your punishment,” he slides his hands up, open-palmed, slowly inching his way to your face. He lingers on your throat for a moment too long before laying his hand across your cheek. “But that’s only if you stop being a bad girl…is that what you want?” he asks patronizingly, with a cock to his head, faux sympathy lining his tone. “You want Dada to treat you like a bad girl?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, heavy tears pitifully falling as Steve watches you. He doesn’t catch them as he awaits your answer that doesn’t come.

He then tries to give you the bottle from before again but you only resist. Shaking your head and crying profusely while mumbling sorrowful nonsense.

Steve sighs, and hangs his head. He doesn’t enjoy seeing you like this. He wants to hear you laugh. The same laugh he heard over anything else the first night he found you. He wants to see you smile. The same way you beamed at him that night he helped you find your way back. He wants to draw you close when you fall asleep next to him. The same way he’s watched you fall asleep all by yourself for months. He wants to replace the teeny little thumb you always stick in your mouth when you think no one is watching with his. He knows you want this. He knows you need this.

But it’s obvious his poor girl just doesn’t understand that yet.

Steve knows babies have a hard time listening when throwing tantrums anyway...

For now, if you won’t listen, he’ll just have to show you.

“My sweet girl…” Steve grabs your face, turning it towards him. “You just won’t learn unless Dada shows you, huh?” he releases your face dismissively and stands up.

“If you want to act out…” he speaks while reaching across the crib above you,

“and think you’re a big girl…” he lifts something weighty that’s attached to the top of the crib,

“that’s fine,” parallel bars intrude your vision of Steve from above you,

“But this is what happens when you act like a bad girl.” Steve’s voice turns more ireful with every word he speaks, as he works his way around the crib, latching multiple locks together that you hadn't noticed before with increasingly aggressive force.

“You get treated like one. Bad girls get left all alone by themselves without Dada. If you really want Dada to let you go. Fine. You’ll stay right here until you understand what it means to listen.” he slams the last latch shut.

You barely have time to process his words while your wobbly vision interprets what’s happening above you. By the time you comprehend that there’s a top to this ‘crib’ that Steve has locked you in, he’s already left the room, truly isolating you.

Anguished sobs that were falling on deaf ears during Steve’s spiel to you now meet the equally deaf silence of the room itself.

The only sound that accompanies you now is your own cries, echoing back pitifully to you from the horizontal bars above…

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dinodinodin0 · 2 years

Text

The older kids with little!reader

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Eddie and Steve had known about your little space for a while now, and they've completely adopted it or, you, respectfully.

However, due to how excepting they were, you felt it eventually got harder and harder to stop slipping into little space. Beforehand, you hid it from everyone, but now your two boyfriends knew and they'd actively make it harder to mask it. You didn't mind, you loved that they encouraged it, but eventually you wished your other friends knew aswell, so you could be yourself around them

So Eddie and Steve made it their own personal mission to make them comfortable with it. They encouraged you to slyly regress in front of them, or just act more childish, so that way the news wouldn't be too jarring

Eventually without them even knowing why, they started to treat you smaller and smaller. It was natural to then, given how you acted. To others it may have sounded like they were condescending, but to you it sounded like they cared.

After a while, you told Eddie and Stevie that it was okay to tell them. They took you out of the room and told them privately, explaining what it was, that it was okay, and why you did it. They were all completely accepting, but some had more questions then others. Nancy specifically wanted to learn about you and how to care for you, but Jonathan wanted to learn by interacting with you.

So now whenever you were comfortable with it and you were little, your daddies invited your friends Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy to come play with you aswell.

Robin loved going to arcades with you and making you laugh, bringing you new knock knock jokes every visit. She wins you plushies at crane games, and let's you beat her when she plays competitive games with you.

Jonathan loves teaching you things, and is fascinated by you. He loves to let you tell him about your toys, art you've made, and loves doing fashion photoshoots if your stuffies with you.

Nancy is your go to for anything girly. You wanna play makeup? Go to nance. Wanna paint everyone's nails? Nance will help you pick the colors. Feel the need to vent about your stressfully storyline between your Barbies? Always nance.

You and your daddies are extremely happy they love you as much as they do, and you love being yourself around people who care about you.

Oh, and Steve finally got to enjoy a break from being the babysitter <3

#eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munsin x reader #steve harrington x reader #daddy!steve harrington #daddy!eddie munson #daddy!eddie #daddy!steve #little!reader #steddie #steddie x reader #steddie x little!reader #fruity four #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x y/n #stranger things fanfic #agere #agere danfic

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marvelfanfics1 · 1 year

Text

Breathe With Me

Summary: You're having an asthma attack in the middle of the night and your daddies are quick to help and comfort you.

Pairing: daddy!stucky x little!reader

Warnings: Age Regression, asthma attack, angst?, fluff

⭒𖥸⭒

Steve groaned when he got woken up by a noise he couldn't really figure out yet with how sleepy he was. He turned on his other side and could now hear that the noises came from the baby monitor.

He picked the device up and heard you coughing a few times, thinking you would settle down by yourself but the coughing didn't stop and he started to worry.

He started shaking Bucky awake when you started wheezing.

"Steve? What time is it?" Bucky mumbled into his pillow while Steve got up and made his way to your room.

Opening the door, he instantly rushed over to you when he saw how you were clawing at your chest, still coughing and wheezing.

"Deep breaths, sweetheart. Here just like daddy." he said and inhaled, you tried to do the same but you simply couldn't.

You shook your head while tears started to flow down your red cheeks. "Can't- breathe"

"Bucky! Get the inhaler!" he shouted and you jumped at the loud noise, your breathing getting shorter each second.

Your vision started to blur and your body swayed itself back and forth a little.

You could register Steve's and Bucky's worried voices, trying to reach out for one of them until you felt Bucky sitting behind you supporting your body while Steve held the inhaler against your lips.

You opened your mouth and tried to focus on your daddy. "Alright, three, two, one" he gave you one puff, sighing in relief when you started to calm down and gave you a second one just in case.

"There we go, in and out, that's our good girl" Bucky whispered in your ear, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

When you fully calmed down you wiped away the remaining tears and held one arm out again for Steve.

"M tired daddy." you mumbled and rubbed your eyes.

"I know sweetie. Let's go back to sleep, you can sleep in our bed tonight" he smiled and picked you up, carrying you to their bedroom while Bucky grabbed your favorite stuffie and one of your spare pacis.

Steve laid you back down in the middle of their bed, climbing in beside you and making sure you're all comfortable. Bucky soon joined you both, handing you your comfort items you instantly popped your pacifier in.

You sighed and started to close your eyes, feeling safe being squished between your big daddies and your legs tangled together.

⭒𖥸⭒

Taglist

for everything

for Stucky

@almostcontentcreator @stuckysgirl27

#little!reader #little reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #daddy stucky #daddy stucky x little reader #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy!steve rogers #daddy!steve #daddy steve rogers #daddy steve x little reader #daddy steve

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babyhatesreality · 9 months

Note

Hey babes! Can you do a stucky mafia little reader where stucky and they reader are out at dinner or shopping and someone tries to attack them? The reader is ok but very shaken. 🥺

Fluff, angst, mentions of shock and doctors 🥺❤️

I love your page

Sure thing! And I love you back <3 Thank you for your patience, it means the world to me.

A/N- this is an AU outside of Katie Cat, and outside of my other series. I decided to try my hand at Dark Stucky for this one. This is a stand alone- and I'm excited to play in this sandbox for a minute, so thank you darling nonnie!

Down the Rabbit Hole

Pairing: Dark!Mafia!Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: dark mafia Stucky, f! reader, severe Stockholm syndrome, Stucky both referred to as Daddy, pet names, reader is smaller than Stucky, language, an attack on all three, violence (not towards reader), shock, fear, angst, doctor talk, fluff.

"Mmmm," you couldn't help but say as you lingered on the last delicious bite of spaghetti. It was so rare that Steve and Bucky had a night away AND could take you out to dinner, that you'd almost forgotten what any other spaghetti other than Steve's tasted like. "It's so good."

"Good girl, you cleaned your plate. I'm proud of you," Steve said, the corner of his lip curling up in that smile that was almost a sneer, but you'd come to understand it meant he was pleased. You giggled and ducked your head, not wanting to admit that his praise in public made you feel all giddy.

"I think we should get the tiramisu to go. It's getting near your bedtime, little one," Bucky said, looking at his expensive diamond-encrusted watch. He chuckled when you pouted. "Now, now. None of that or we don't do this again." You instantly wiped the pout off your face. You couldn't remember the last time you'd actually gotten to leave the mansion for a date night with your daddies, and you weren't about to jeopardize that. Seeing the pout gone, Bucky purred. "That's better. Now let's go."

A waitress handed Steve a to-go bag with a large piece of the dessert in it as you all were heading out the door. You were surprised when you realized that neither Steve nor Bucky had paid, and couldn't help but look behind you as you all were exiting. "What's the matter, Princess?" Steve asked, taking a firm hold of your hand. "What's wrong?"

"Don't...don't we have to give monies to the people for making us food?" you whispered, a little afraid that this was going to be one of those questions that got your daddies mad when you asked it. But this was the exact opposite. Steve squeezed your hand a bit, and Bucky quickly took you other hand and kissed it as you all walked down the street to where Sam had parked the car a few blocks away.

"Look at our sweet little girl, Buck, making sure all her people are taken care of," Steve said, grinning at Bucky and then down at you. "Seems like she picked up a thing or two from the business."

"It's okay, Sweet Cheeks, Daddy and I know the people that run this place. They make us food for free, whenever we want," Bucky said, smiling down indulgently at you.

"Oh. That's nice of them!"

"Did you like going to that place?"

"It was...nice. The food was way yummy. There was lots of people there."

"Was that too many people, honey?"

"Um...it's okay. Just not used to anybody but Daddies."

"Well, how about we all go back home and it can be just Daddies again?"

"Yeah!" you cheered, relieved. It was weird being around people again- you weren't sure that you liked it. You hadn't been around that many people since your Daddies saved you from your boring life to make you their Princess. It had taken a long time, but now you couldn't live without them.

The three of you turned into an alley. Normally, it would have terrified you to walk down a place like this, but with both of your daddies holding your hands, you knew you had nothing to fear.

Suddenly, you heard a deep voice behind you. "Stay right where you are. Don't move."

Ignoring the voice's orders, both Bucky and Steve whipped around instantly. Steve forcefully shoved you behind him. Afraid, you buried your face in the back of his jacket and tried not to make a sound. As you did when you were home and their work people came over, you stayed silent, like a good girl does.

"Give me your wallets and no one gets hurt," the voice said, low and gruff. Bucky let out a bark of a laugh as Steve stepped forward.

"Oh, son. You have no idea what you've just done, do you?" Steve said lightly, but you could hear the undercurrent of violence in his tone. You felt Steve's arms shove aside his jacket lapels, but the next thing you knew, Bucky had you up against the brick wall of the alleyway. Everything got really loud really fast. You turned your head in terror to make sure Steve was okay, but Bucky forcefully grabbed your chin in his hand and made you look at him.

"Eyes on me, Princess," he commanded, and you obeyed instantly. "Good girl. You remember our codes?"

"Y-yes, Daddy."

"Good girl. Rabbit hole. Quick like a bunny. Go." He let your chin go and stepped towards Steve, leaving you alone with your orders.

After Steve and Bucky had rescued you and you'd grown accustomed to this new life, they had drilled code words into you in case of situations like this. "Rabbit Hole" and "Quick like a bunny" were codes for find a place to hide as fast as you can, and don't move until they come to get you.

You looked for a safe hiding space, just like Steve had taught you to, and found a slight notch in the brickwork of the alley- just large enough to hold a dumpster. You ran into it as fast as you could, squeezing yourself in between the dumpster and the wall. You huddled down, hands over your ears and eyes squeezed shut, pretending you were a rabbit in a hole, just like they taught you. Your hands over your ears mostly muffled the shouts, the grunts, and the loud bang. Then everything was silent.

After a couple minutes, you felt three taps on your arm. You opened your eyes to see Bucky kneeling in front of you, smiling. You peeled your hands from your ears just in time to hear him say "Good girl."

You flung yourself into his arms, sobbing and scared. He picked you up, balancing you on his hip, as you cried into his shoulder. He gently kissed the top of your head before pulling his phone out and making a call. Less than a minute later, Sam came barreling into the alley. Without a word, Bucky passed you to him and walked towards Steve.

You started crying even more hysterically. "No, Daddy, please don't go!" you wailed, trying to stretch out of Sam's arms to get to them.

"Hey," Steve's voice cut in sternly. You instantly stopped squirming, knowing better than to push Steve when he was angry. Seeing that you were behaving the way he wanted you to, Steve turned his attention back to what was left of the would be attacker. Sam pressed your face into his shoulder so you wouldn't look, and you stayed right there, unable to control your trembling.

A couple phone calls later and the situation was resolved. Your cries had quieted to occasional hiccups, but you were trying your hardest to be quiet and good, just like they wanted you to be. When you felt Steve's strong hands lift you out of Sam's arms though, you turned with lightning speed and latched onto him.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay, Princess, Daddy is here now," he said in a much softer and more soothing voice that before. You sniffled a little.

"Daddy?" you whispered, looking up at him. He smiled softly at you.

"Hey there, Princess," he said, rubbing his nose against yours. You sighed in relief, and returned the butterfly kiss, before turning your head to look for Bucky. You didn't have to look far- Bucky was right behind Steve, smiling from ear to ear at you.

"Princess, tell Daddy what you just did," Bucky said proudly, lightly punching Steve in the back to get him to listen up.

"Runned to be a rabbit in a hole, like Daddy said to," you explained carefully, wanting to make sure you didn't mess it up. Steve's smug smile grew.

"Yeah? You were in a rabbit hole like Daddy told you to be?" Steve said proudly. "Well, how about that. You must have been a very brave little girl to be such a good bunny when the mean man came." At the mention of the attacker, you began to shake again.

"Shh, it's okay Sweet Cheeks, we're here and the bad man is gone. He didn't hurt us and he can't hurt you," Bucky crooned softly, stroking your cheek with his finger. But you couldn't stop shaking.

"Boss, you want me to call the doctor to come check her out?" Sam asked gruffly, seeing you beginning to tremble again.

"No! No doctor!" you whimpered before burying yourself in Steve's shoulder. You heard a smack and turned your head to see Sam holding the back of his head and looking annoyed, while Bucky stood next to him, fuming.

"Idiot, you know she hates doctors," Bucky hissed at their second in command.

"Sorry, sorry," Sam apologized, before looking at you. "Sorry, Princess."

"Is okay, Sammy. Thank you for...for helping me." You didn't really want to thank Sam for holding you back while your daddies were taking care of their business, but Steve and Bucky were very strict about manners and you knew they would want you to thank Sam. You were rewarded with kisses from the both of them, on either side of your head.

"Good manners, Princess," Steve whispered. "Come on. Let's go home. And see? Daddy didn't even let the bad man get our dessert. Let's go watch a movie and eat it before bed, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy."

"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go out to dinner, hm?"

"I'll do anything you want, as long as I can stay with you and Daddy forever."

"Good girl. That's what we want to hear."

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