Daddy!steve - Blog Posts

Distracting Daddy

(Part 1/2) Taking what you want

CEO!Steve Rogers, Daddy!Steve Rogers

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Ddlg, asphyxiation/choking, oral fixation (thumb sucking), hand kink, scent kink, size kink/ size difference , Daddy, Dom/Sub dynamic, word slut is used (not by Steve), reverse cow girl, uniform/suit kink

Nicknames: Princess, angle, brat, little girl, Baby girl, Daddy

Word count: 3.1k

He’s told you time and time again not to disrupt him whilst he’s on a work call, but this time you can’t help yourself. Seeing your daddy with his fitted dress shirt sleeves rolled up his thick, veiny muscular arms drives you wild and always causes your pussy to tingle. You want to ride him whilst he strangles you with his one of his expensive ties and get lost in the manly, musky scent of his cologne and today you just couldn’t suppress the temptation. You know what awaits you as soon as he finishes his call, but while he’s busy you have his undivided attention.

Part 2 coming soon, if I can stop thinking of more random scenarios for five seconds to be able to write coherently. I have so many drafts T~T

You were bored, well bored was an understatement. Your Daddy had been on one of his ‘Important Daddy business’ phone calls for almost three hours, but it felt like an eternity, he’d promised he wouldn’t be long but he’d lied. He said something about it being an extremely important phone call, one to close a multimillion dollar deal; You didn’t really pay attention to what he said, just the end part where he said he’d be able to buy you so many nice things. You were looking forward to your spending spree, but sitting on your shared California king mattress, tv on low acting as white noise, holding Stevie, your funshine carebear, the absence of your daddy’s touch was killing you, your princess parts ached. Just before the call you had convinced Steve to take a break and fool around with you, your orgasm was so close; his tongue was drawing tight circles on your clit as his long, thick digits massaged that spot inside of you that made your legs twitch and shake. And just as the knot inside of you was beginning to tighten, your head was beginning to cloud and your eyes were rolling back into your head Steve’s ringtone disrupted your pleasure, you begged him not to answer but he said he had to “It’s Stark princess, Bucky will kill me if I don’t close this deal. It’s my work hours anyway, I shouldn’t be doing this with you right now.” He huffed, standing up from his position on his knees. You gave him your best puppy eyes, you even attached yourself to his leg like a koala, but he managed to remove you and slip into his office and answer the call. Once the door was closed you knew it was over, you knew what happened if you went into his office whilst he was on a business call—punishment.

You gave Stevie one last squeeze and rested his head on your pillow, you scooted to the edge of the bed and hopped off your bare feet meeting the pristine, soft square of carpet you stood there relishing in the feeling and preparing yourself for what you were about to do. You strode off the carpet and onto the cool grey wood, you creaked open the bedroom door and looked down the corridor hoping Daddy had finished the work call and was coming to you, he wasn’t. You took one last deep breath collecting every fragment of courage within your little body and walked to his office door, this was the only door in the house that wasn’t a modern slate grey with silver pull handle this door was an aged, sturdy dark teak wood with a golden door knob, and near the top door there was a shiny golden plaque with ‘Study’ engraved on it. This room wasn’t always forbidden, you were allowed in it; just not when Steve was on the phone or had expressed the urgency of a certain piece of work that was due. Now was one of the time you weren’t meant to go in but you were desperate, you were craving him, his scent, his hands, the weight of his body on top of your, his soft hair— You slapped your hands gently against your cheeks you we’re getting distracted you had a mission ‘Distract Daddy’ You grabbed the large golden door knob with you small hand and turned it. It was open!

You slowly inched the door open to see your daddy leaned back in his black leather chesterfield chair, his hand nestled his blonde locks tugging at it, stress presided over his usual smiley face. He was wearing one of your favourite dress shirts, his robin egg blue one that you picked out at the fancy store he took you to—it was tailored to perfection, it displayed his sculpted pecs that you loved to snuggle up to at night and squeezed his brawny arms flawlessly and he paired it with one of his expensive navy ties, you wanted it around your neck to slowly deprive you of oxygen. You slipped into the room and closed the door behind you with a click. Steve’s gaze rose from the paperwork in front of him to meet your wanton stare, he shook his head in return, mouth ‘No’ and removed his hand from his hair to point at the phone that was pressed to his ear “We’ve reviewed the figures, Tony, we believe this deal will be beneficial for us both. The statistics were sent over to Pepper yesterday. They should have been forwarded to you, no and I understand the hesitancy, really I get it.” His eyes remained locked with yours expecting you to leave, but you just sauntered towards him and plopped down in the chair facing him, a devious smile spreading across your face as you swung your legs back and forth like a schoolgirl. His jaw ticked in response, he was already beginning to get angry. It was no secret that your Daddy dislikes Tony Stark, they got on like oil and water, for some reason, but that paired with the disobedience you were displaying was enough for him to start getting agitated—especially when he had no idea what you planned to do “ Let me go get those documents so we can be on the same page, just a moment.” He sets his phone down on the table with a thump and puts his line on mute “Baby girl I’m gonna give you one chance to leave this room before I rain hell down on your poor little bottom. You know the rules, you’re not allowed in Daddy’s office when he’s on a work call.” He warned, his tone edging into an almost growl, but you just smiled.

“I’ll be quiet Daddy, I promise! You’ve been in here for three hours pleaseeee?” You whined shuffling over to his side of the desk and dropping to your knees, you rubbed your head against his midnight blue slacks, you could smell the detergent on them. His warmth seeped through the material onto your cheek and you clasped your hand around his hand dragging it towards your mouth, slipping his thumb in and sucking on it gently letting his blonde hairs tickle the side of your face, your pussy clenched as you remembered the feeling of his fingers inside you bringing you to orgasm, the salty taste of his finger pricked at your tongue. His other fingers stroked your head lovingly

“You gotta be quiet, okay? Pinky promise?” Steve questioned, sceptical about the truth of your promise, you just nodded softly chewing on the digit in your mouth moaning softly.

“Are you still there, Rogers? Are you hiking up Mount Everest for those documents?” Tony’s unamused voice called out, Steve’s attention returned back to his call giving your face intermittent rubs as you sucked on his thumb and snuggled up to his calf. This was nice, your Daddy always ran warm and he was gentle (most of the time) but this isn’t what you came for you wanted your holes filled, you wanted the climax Tony Stark’s stupid business call robbed you of.

Steadily you stood up, Steve stared at you quizzically as you began to clamber into his lap. His face contorted, he looked as if he’d eaten a lemon, his hand that had just been in your mouth gripped the chair's arms rest so harshly you thought he’d rip the leather. You promised to be quiet, not to be still. You sat facing him grinding you hips down on his crotch, you ghosted you hand over his chest, down his arms playing with his arm hair as you came back up to his neck you ran your hands over his freshly shaven face up to his hair which you carded you fingers through attempting to fix the mess his stressful pulling had made then you brought your hands back down to his neck, you caressed his tie with your fingers, drawing random shapes on the the silk before you untied it. Steve threw his head back in annoyance, humming intermittently at whatever Tony was telling him on the phone. He seized one of your thighs, with a bruising grip, in an attempt to keep you still; but this just made you quicken your pace catching your bare clit on his clothes bulge causing you to bite back a moan as the pleasure you had been robbed of began to rise. You scrunched his freshly ironed tie in your hand as you leaned on Steve’s shoulders for support, nipping and sucking at his neck, taking in the smell of his cologne—magnolia and cedar wood— it drove you wild how good he smelt all the time just for you.

Suddenly, Steve’s hand slithered up your body gripping your neck and pushing you back till your spine met his desk. Your eyes met once again, but now his usual kind green eyes were dark and his pupils were shot wide—you’d awakened his dominant side, the card he only pulled when you were getting on his last nerve. You wanted to retreat, but you were still craving his thick cock. Craving how it rubbed all the right places inside you. Craving how with each powerful thrust his tip kissed your cervix, clearing your head of any and all thoughts, you were a slut for his dick and he loved it, just not right now. You grabbed at his arm with both of your hands, you were so small compared to him, he could probably do some damage to you if he really wanted, but Steve was too nice for that and you were going to use that niceness. He pulled you close looking over your shoulder towards his desk, with gritted teeth he began to speak “I’m looking at it. No that’s not correct, the projection was calculated-“ he was cut off by Stark's incessant rambling. You used your chance to unzip his slacks and pull down his boxers, just enough to pull out his hardened cock, Steve hissed in response

You paused for a moment “You okay there?” Stark questioned

“I’m fine, I just kicked the corner of my table. What were you saying about the quarterly?” Steve pinched his nose and sighed

“Maybe you should invest in a bigger desk for your giraffe legs” Stark quipped, you could hear him chuckling at his own joke and you had to bite your tongue to not also laugh at his comment about your daddy having giraffe legs, it was painfully accurate. Maybe Stark wasn’t that bad after all.

“Hardy-har-har.” Steve responded dryly

You took a hold of Steve’s large cock, it always surprised you how he managed to fit inside you. You pressed your pelvis up to his dick, biting your lip when you felt the head touch just below your belly button, you ran your thumb over the weeping head, smearing his pre around his mushroom head. You peered upwards to see Steve’s eyes scrunched tight and his lips pressed together so hard, it looked like he had no lips at all. He began voice shaking “Comparing both of our companies statistics from last year and the start of this year, you can tell that…” he paused. Suppressing a moan as you squeezed his shaft “it would be beneficial for us both, as our earnings are almost equal. But you already know that, Stark.” You shuffled on his lap, turning yourself to face the office door.

Gripping the hard wood table as you rose up on your knees, you ran the head of his cock through your silken folds and then began lowering yourself down. You heard the sound of his thumb smacking the mute button as he let out a husky growl, your walls tightened around his length as you slid further down his length. You gripped the table even tighter “ Daddyyy” you whined, the painful yet pleasurable burn of his thick cock stretching you out made it hard to keep moving, but you continued to take him inside you. Your hand grabbed his tie, which you had thrown down on the desk, and you dangled it behind you “choke me please!” You felt him grab it from you roughly, he began to tie it around your neck tugging at it slightly, depriving you of oxygen briefly to tease you.

His face brushed against your ear, he suckled at the thin skin of your earlobe “I’m going to unmute the phone now. Be quiet and I’ll give you what you want, my naughty little girl.” He demanded playfully, his voice thick with lust, you nodded in agreement and you heard him unmute the phone. You began to move your hips slowly biting down hard on your bottom lip to suppress any moans, in return Steve tugged at the tie around your neck robbing you of air. The feeling was utter ecstasy, you could barely hear Steve talking as you rode him in pure wanton bliss. He loosened the tie, allowing oxygen to flood back into your system, your whole body tingled and the corners of your vision went black for a moment; but you kept rolling your hips back and forth letting your Daddy’s cock rub your sweet spot “no that would be irrelevant, those aren’t the right numbers. I have 75,000 and 90,000 here and a graph with blue and-” once again he was cut off.

“Wait…Excuse me, Rogers, I’ve got the wrong thing in front of me. Give me a minute, let me find it.” You heard Tony sigh, his footsteps getting further from his phone. Steve muted his line again, he pulled at the tie harshly pulling you close to him so your head was on his shoulder

“You’re gonna ride me like your life depends on it, because this call is almost over. And if you don’t cum by the end of it your punishment will be ten times worse, because you would have disrupted me for nothing. Get to riding princess.”

“Yes daddy.” He muttered a ‘good girl’ as you leaned towards the desk, using it as support as you began frantically rising and slamming your hips back down on his lap “Daddy! Please choke me!” You begged as his free hand came down to your clit and began to rub tight circles on the sensitive bud, he yanked the tie once again, spit ran down your chin and tears brimmed your eyes as your lungs emptied of oxygen.

“I found them! They were in the other pile. You still there Rogers?” Tony questioned as he slumped back into his chair.

Steve unmuted the phone “Still here, now then how about the deal? It makes sense to large companies coming together rather than waging war, together we’d have enough combined power to rival Odinsons & co. for more competitive market positions.” He loosened his grip on the tie allowing your to take in some oxygen, your pussy fluttered around him as his fingers diligently teased your clit

“Very true, but if I partnered with Odinsons & co. Then I could take you guys down and you’d no longer be competition, what stopped me from doing that?” You could practically hear the confidence and sass dripping from Starks words

Steve let out a low chuckle “We both know that although Thor is not the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to negotiating his brother Loki is unmatched, you wouldn’t get a deal as good as we’re offering you and anyway do you really want to deal with Loki?” Steve questioned giving your pussy a light slap, you almost let out a yelp but you muffled it in your shoulder. You were so close, you tugged at the tie in your daddy’s hand and he began to pull. You pressed your hand firmly to your mouth, to silence the moans that were bubbling in your throat, as you began to ride him with newfound need. The coil inside you was tightening, the pleasure in your hips felt unbearably good to the point that it ached.

“Okay your right, you’re right. I’ll sign. Looking at the schedule Barnes forwarded over, you have an afternoon free this coming Thursday. I’ll be there for 1:30 pm and we’ll sign the contracts. Pleasure doing business with you Rogers.”

“No, the pleasure is all mine.” You heard the sound of the call end “isn’t that right baby girl. I can feel it, your pussy tightening your legs shaking. Come for me, do it now and maybe your punishment won’t be that bad.” He let out a grunt as his thrust began to match yours, with one final tug on the tie around your neck you practically screamed as you came, your body shaking, your legs twitching and an electrifying aftershock ran through your clit. Steve pressed your head onto the desk, your warm cheek was cooled by the cold wood which glistened with your saliva and tears. He let out an animalistic grunt, as he snapped his hips a few more times before he came inside you, his warm come spread out inside you. He rocked his hips as he came more, and you felt a warm liquid trickle down your thigh.

Steve’s strong hand pulled your face towards his “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at you little brat. Riding my cock while I’m on an important call, you’re in so much goddamn trouble.” He threatened, his tone was primal, he was looking at you as if you were his prey. Your lip trembled and you diverted your eyes. He made your sensitive pussy ache pleasurably and twitch around him.

“But daddy! You left me right before I could cum I’ve been all tingly ever since and toys don’t feel as good as you. I wanted my daddy.” You whined, jutting out your bottom lip in a pout, as he slipped out of you.

“I know angel, I know,” his hand grazed your cheek tenderly, pushing some hair that had become displaced from your bouncing, “I wanted you too but I was on a really important call. But now that it’s over and my greedy little princess has taken what she’s wanted, you should run and hide. You have as long as it takes me to text Bucky about the meeting to hide before I find you and punish you for that little stunt you just pulled.” He threatened, picking up his phone from the desk.

“But daddy…” you whined turning to face him, his gaze was dark and he had already begun texting.

“Run and hide Princess. Because when I find you, and I will find you, your ass and legs are going to be so sore I’ll be carrying you around for the rest of the week.” Steve snarled, looking up from his phone to stare into your innocent teary eyes. His gaze was dark, he was serious. Without a second thought you took off running, you could hear his raspy chuckle from down the hallway. You were in so much trouble.

Beach Day

Pairing: Stucky x little!reader [Disclaimer: Age Regression!]

Summary: You and your caregivers go on a trip to the beach where you have an action-packed day of building sand castles, splashing in the water, and spending time with your daddies.

Word Count: 3.1k+

A/N: I tried to make reader actually speak more this time, more excited in little space. I’m also going to the beach this week, so maybe I’ll find some inspiration to write more beach-related scenarios. Happy reading!

Main Masterlist

Sunlight peeks through your curtains, warm and golden. Before you’re even fully awake, you feel it, that fluttery kind of excitement deep in your belly. Today is the day you take a trip with your daddies to the beach.

You practically tumble out of bed, your stuffie clutched in one hand and your blanket trailing behind you like a cape. Your feet patter down the hall to the kitchen where Steve is already pouring coffee and Bucky’s at the table packing snacks and food into a cooler bag.

As soon as they see you, both of their faces light up.

“Well, good morning, sunshine,” Steve says with a grin, crouching down as you barrel into him for a hug.

“‘S beach day!” You declare, bouncing on your toes and giggling. “Gon’ swim, an’ eat sammiches, anddd… maybe find a crab!”

Steve chuckles and ruffles your bedhead. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”

Bucky comes over and lifts you into his arms with a dramatic motion. “You sound ready to explode with excitement, doll.”

“Boom!” You shout happily, flopping into his shoulder with a squeal.

“Alright, tiny firecracker,” Bucky says with a smirk, kissing your temple, “Let’s pick out that swimsuit, huh? I laid out a few.”

He carries you back to your room, setting you down in front of the bed where three different swimsuits are folded: one with little sharks, one with rainbows and glitter, and one with ducks wearing sunglasses.

You gasp. “Ducks!! ‘M wearin’ the ducky one!”

“Excellent choice,” Steve says from the doorway, holding up a tiny bottle of sunscreen like it’s a secret weapon. “Operation Sunshield begins after we’re dressed.”

You squeal again and squirm excitedly while Bucky helps you into the ducky swimsuit, gently tugging the fabric into place and letting you spin in front of the mirror.

“Look at you,” He teases. “The duck commander herself.”

You pose with your hands on your hips. “Quack,” You say seriously before breaking into giggles.

Steve brings over your favorite sunhat, the one with little cat ears sewn on top. He crouches down to tie the strings carefully under your chin. “There. Our beach baby is ready.”

You nod with a wide smile, pointing to yourself. “Beach baby. Dat’s me.”

Bucky hands you your beach bag, shaped like a strawberry, already packed with your floatie, water bottle, a towel, and your favorite shell-collecting bucket. You peek inside and spot your teddy tucked in there too, wearing his own little sunglasses.

“Brownie comin’ tooooo!” You squeal, hugging the bag tight.

Steve chuckles and kisses your forehead. “Of course. He’s our co-pilot.”

You skip toward the door, flip-flops smacking the floor, bag bouncing against your side, already humming a made-up beach song.

And behind you, Steve and Bucky exchange a soft look, all warm smiles and quiet love, before following you out the door.

It doesn’t take long until you’re all buckled into your seat in the back of Steve’s big SUV, your strawberry beach bag beside you and Brownie resting in your lap. Your feet are swinging back and forth and you’ve got a sippy cup of cold apple juice in one hand.

Bucky’s driving, sunglasses on and arm relaxed out the window, while Steve twists in the front seat to check on you again.

“Got everything, sweetheart?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Mhm! Brownie, got snacks, got juice… oh! Forgot da crayons- wait, no I didn’t! They in the bag!” You unzip it and proudly show off your zip-up pouch full of stubby, broken crayons and coloring pages.

Steve gives you a dramatic sigh of relief. “Phew. Beach emergency averted.”

Bucky grins at the road. “Can’t survive a beach trip without crayons. Everyone knows that.”

You lean back and hum a little song to yourself while kicking your feet. Then, suddenly, “Papa?”

Steve turns again, his expression soft. “Yeah, bug?”

“How many waves do ya fink there gonna be? A gazillion?”

He hums in thought before answering, “Maybe a gazillion and one.”

You giggle and wiggle in your seat. “I’mma jump in alla them! Gonna splash ev’rywhere!”

Bucky snorts, joking. “Better not splash me, unless you wanna get launched into orbit.”

You gasp, wide-eyed. “Like a rocket?!”

“Yup. Straight to the moon, kiddo.”

Steve leans over and smacks Bucky’s arm playfully. “No launching beach babies today, sergeant.”

“Awwww,” You whine with a little pout, “But I wanna go moon swimmin’…”

They both laugh, and Bucky says, “Okay, okay. We’ll settle for ocean splashing. But you are gonna need to hold our hands in the water if you don’t have your floatie with you.”

You cross your arms with a dramatic sigh. “Cuz waves big?”

Steve nods. “And ‘cause we love you. Wanna keep you close.”

That makes you go quiet for a second before you agree with a nod, “Okay. I hold your hands forever!”

The car is quiet after that for a few minutes, filled only with the sound of tires on pavement and the music playing softly through the speakers, one of your favorite silly beach songs.

Eventually, your eyes start to feel a little heavy from the sun and excitement, and your voice gets small. “Tell me when we’re there?”

Steve turns slightly in his seat, watching you snuggle up with your teddy bear. “Of course, baby. You rest. We’ll get you there safe.”

And with Bucky humming along to the song and Steve’s assurance warm and steady, you drift off to sleep, dreaming of ducks in sunglasses and waves that reach the stars.

-

The car slows down into a parking lot full of stray sand, and you awaken instinctively.

“We here?” You mumble, still a little sleepy, rubbing your eyes.

“We’re here, baby,” Steve says, twisting to smile at you. “And there’s the shore.”

You sit up fast, blinking at the blue sky, the seagulls flying overhead, and the endless stretch of sparkling ocean beyond the dunes. Your mouth opens in a soft gasp. “Iss sooooo biiiiig!”

Bucky chuckles as he parks the car. “Told ya the ocean was a giant bathtub.”

“Bath tub don’t got birds,” You correct him seriously.

Steve laughs and gets out, opening the back door and unbuckling your seatbelt and helping you out. “You’re right, smarty-pants. No seagulls allowed in bathtubs.”

Bucky lifts the beach bag and tosses a towel over his shoulder. Your floatie, shaped like a giant donut with pink frosting, is tucked under his arm. “Alright, sunshine, grab a hand.”

You immediately reach for both of them, one hand in each of theirs, swinging between them as the three of you walk toward the beach. You can feel the sand seep onto the surface of your flip-flops and the ocean breeze tugs playfully at your hat, but you don’t mind one bit. You’re too busy bouncing in excitement.

“Papa! Daddy! Look, look, a doggie!” You shout, pointing to a golden retriever with a stick in its mouth.

“I see him,” Bucky says. “Reckon he’s here for the waves too.”

“Bet he surfs,” You whisper, awed.

The beach opens up in front of you, wide and bright, with the tide glittering under the sun. Steve lays down a big blanket while Bucky sets up the umbrella and cooler. You spin in place, arms out, squealing, “So big!! So blue!! So sandyyyy!!”

“You’re gonna be so sticky by the end of the day,” Steve teases, “Sticky and sandy and tired.”

You beam. “Dat’s the best kinda day.”

He chuckles, holding out the donut floatie. “Want it on now or wait till we go in?”

You tap your chin like you’re thinking real hard, then answer, “Gon’ wait. ‘Mma build da castle first.”

Bucky sets the floatie down, securing it to make sure it doesn’t blow away in the wind. “Then let’s build the biggest castle in the whole world. Fit for a beach princess.”

“I’m a queen,” You say matter-of-factly, plopping down and grabbing your bucket.

“Apologies, your majesty,” Bucky replies with a bow, handing you your shovel.

You take it gratefully. Now sitting criss-cross in the sand, shovel in hand, and your tongue poking out the side of your mouth in deep, serious concentration. “Dis side gonna be da dungeon,” You declare, patting down a lopsided tower with a wet slap.

“Uh-oh,” Steve says, leaning over with a raised brow. “Who’s getting sent to the dungeon?”

You look up at him dramatically. “Any bad guys. Like… da people who steal snacks. Or take my floatie wifout askin’.”

Bucky smirks. “That first one’s harsh, kiddo. Even I snuck a bite of your granola bar last week.”

You gasp, eyes wide. “DADDY!”

He holds up both hands. “I surrender to the queen.”

You scramble up and point your shovel at him. “To the dungeon!!”

Steve is already half-laughing as he scoops up a little wet sand with his palm and begins forming a jail cell beside your crooked tower. “There. You can lock him up right next to the crab moat.”

“Crab moat?” You squeak, spinning to look and sure enough, Steve has drawn a little wavy trench in the sand around your castle.

“Yup. To keep the villains out. Filled with tiny crab soldiers.”

You light up. “Can I name ‘em?!”

Bucky grins from where he’s now digging a tunnel. “They need names if they’re gonna work for you.”

You begin listing in a sing-song voice as you place little seashells at intervals around the moat. “Dis one’s Sir Pincie. Dat one’s Lady Clawdia. Ooooh! And King Crunch!”

“You’re a natural monarch,” Steve says, brushing sand off your nose gently.

The three of you work for a long while like that. Steve shapes towers and walls with his big, careful hands, while Bucky digs tunnels and hides treasure shells underneath the sand (“For adventurers later,” He says with a wink). Meanwhile, you are darting between them, giving orders, adding stick flags, and occasionally squashing the sand with your knees when things get too exciting.

At one point, you tug Steve’s hand and whisper, “Papa, look! I made a tiny throne!” and point to a lumpy mound near your castle.

He crouches beside you, looking at your creation with a warm smile. “That’s perfect, baby. Just your size.”

You plop onto it,sticking your legs out and puffing up proudly. “Now I’m da queen of da whole beach.”

Bucky bows low. “Queen of Shelltown.”

“Queen of Snacksville,” Steve adds with a smile.

You nod seriously. “I rule wif kindness… and naps.”

Sand coats your legs and arms, your cheeks are flushed pink from the sun and all the giggles, and there’s a little grain of sand stuck to your bottom lip, but you’re glowing from all the fun.

And when the tide starts creeping closer, Steve leans over and murmurs, “Wanna defend the castle, or let the waves have it?”

You consider that deeply, then whisper, “They can have it. I’ll build a new one. Wif you an’ Daddy.”

Steve kisses your temple. “Always, sweetheart.”

-

The castle’s been claimed by the tide, you had waved goodbye to Sir Pincie and Lady Clawdia, and now it’s ocean time.

Bucky crouches down beside you, holding your floatie. “Alright, sunshine. Arms up.”

You giggle and shoot both arms skyward. “Up, up, up!!”

He gently slides the floatie down over your head and around your tummy, adjusting the back. “There ya go. You’re officially donut-fied.”

Steve steps up beside you, brushing hair out of your face and slipping your goggles down over your eyes. “Ready to swim, baby?”

You nod furiously, bouncing in place. “Ready!! Wanna splash! Wanna gooooo!”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky chuckles, scooping you up into his arms. “Let’s get those little feet wet.”

As he carries you toward the water, your legs kick excitedly in the air. The waves rush up to greet you and Bucky sets you down in the shallows, keeping a hand on your floatie. “Whoa there, jellybean. Don’t go zoomin’ off just yet.”

The water laps at your knees and you squeal. When Bucky helps you a bit further to where you can float in the water, you exclaim with glee. “I’m floatin’! I’m a boat!! Papa, look!! I’m a boat!!”

Steve walks in beside you, letting the waves wash over his ankles as he chuckles. “Best boat I’ve ever seen. Might need to name you ‘Captain Giggles.’”

You dramatically turn the wheel of your imaginary ship. “Aye-aye, Captain Papa!”

Bucky lets you drift out a little more, still holding on. The floatie bobs up and down with the swell, and you squeal every time the water splashes up. “The ocean’s ticklin’ me!!”

“You’re lucky it likes you,” Bucky teases.

Another wave comes, bigger this time, and it lifts you gently, your floatie catching it just right. “WHOOOOA!!” You twist in the floatie and throw your arms up. “DO IT ‘GAIN!”

Steve laughs and nudges the float gently from behind so you rock back into Bucky’s waiting hands. “You’re fearless today, huh?”

You beam up at them through your goggles. “M’brave. ‘Cause I gots you two.”

Something about the way you say it makes both men soften instantly.

“That’s right, baby,” Steve murmurs. “You always got us.”

Forever, even when the tide rolls in.

-

After some more fun in the ocean, your floatie squeaks faintly as Bucky lifts you out of the water, droplets running down your legs and arms. “Okay, okay, little sea monster,” He says with a soft smile. “Time for snacks before you turn into a prune.”

You giggle, leaning your wet cheek against his shoulder. “I’m not a monster… I’m a…. mermaid now!”

“Even mermaids need snacks,” Steve calls from where he’s already crouched by the umbrella, unfolding a soft towel with cartoon sea creatures on it, the one you picked out at the store yourself and insisted “smells like sunshine.”

Bucky lowers you onto it, and Steve helps remove your floatie then immediately starts rubbing you down gently with another dry towel, working from your toes up with patient, warm hands. “You did a lot of splashing out there,” He says as he dries your hair with a little tousle. “You hungry, sweetheart?”

You nod dramatically. “M’really hungwy. Like…” You pause to think, then spread your arms wide, “…like this much hungry.”

Bucky chuckles as he pops open the cooler. “Well lucky for you, I packed the royal picnic. Your Majesty’s favorites.”

You scoot onto your knees and peek eagerly as he starts unpacking it all. Slices of juicy watermelon cut into stars, a crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwich cut into triangles just the way you like, a little container of goldfish crackers, and a juice box with a tiny superhero on it. Your mouth already waters just looking at the watermelon.

Steve sits cross-legged beside you, passing you the juice box with the straw already poked in. “Start with some sips, okay? You got lots of sun.”

You sip happily, legs folded under you. “Dis tastes like blue.”

“That’s ‘cause it is blue,” Bucky teases, handing you one of the watermelon stars on a tiny plastic fork. “Eat that before your sandwich. Hydration first.”

You crunch into it and immediately let out a content hum. “Mmmmmm. Cold!”

Both men smile as they eat alongside you, not rushing, not talking much. It’s just quiet, sun-warmed company. Seagulls squawk in the distance. Waves roll in soft and lazy now, like the ocean’s getting sleepy too. There’s sand on your knees, salt on your cheeks, and watermelon juice running down your chin.

Steve reaches over with a napkin and dabs your face gently. “You’re makin’ a mess, aren’t you?”

You look up at him, grinning. “I’m da mess queen.”

Bucky leans over and plants a kiss to your temple. “Then we must be the mess kings.”

You end up snuggled between them, leaning back against Bucky’s chest with your legs draped across Steve’s lap, half a sandwich in hand. The sun peeks out from behind a cloud, warming your face. You let out a little yawn around a bite.

Steve notices and brushes your damp hair back. “Sleepy?”

You shake your head slowly, though your body sags against Bucky. “Noooo. Jus’… comfy.”

Bucky pulls a second towel over your legs, letting you burrow in like a little cocoon. “That’s okay, sweetheart. You just rest. We’ve got you.”

“Uh-huh,” you murmur, eyes fluttering closed. “You always do.”

And they always will.

-

The sun is dipping low now, casting long golden streaks across the parking lot as Steve loads up the trunk. The beach towels are a little sandy, the cooler is mostly empty, and your floatie sits squished between the seats like a deflated donut. Everything smells like salt and sunscreen.

Bucky lifts you gently from where you were half-dozing under the umbrella, your cheeks warm and your limbs floppy with that worn-out, sun-drenched tiredness that only little ones know.

“C’mon, peanut,” He murmurs, cradling you close against his chest. “Time to go home.”

You mumble something into his shirt, mostly vowels and half-syllables, nothing real, but your arms curl around his neck automatically. He smiles, brushing a kiss into your damp hair.

The backseat’s already set up, your soft blanket with the stars and moons, Brownie resting nearby, and a small travel pillow that smells like home. Bucky settles you in carefully, buckling you up while keeping the blanket snug around your legs before shutting the door carefully and moving into the passenger’s seat.

Steve climbs into the driver’s seat and glances back at you in the rearview mirror. “All set, sweetheart?”

You blink slowly, eyes heavy. “Goin’ home?”

“That’s right,” He says, starting the engine. “You did so good today. Brave in the water, kind to the sand crabs, full of giggles. I’m proud of you.”

You smile sleepily, turning your head toward the window as the car pulls away from the beach. The world passes by in a blur of fading light, palm trees, street signs, the occasional swoop of a bird overhead. Your eyelids flutter, heavier with every mile.

Bucky twists in his seat, watching you for a moment. His voice is softer now. “Get some rest, babydoll. We’ll be home soon.”

You hum softly, barely awake, your fingers curling in the corner of your blanket. “You stay wif me?”

“Always,” He whispers. “Not going anywhere.”

The car hums along the road, the sound of tires and the occasional song from the radio blending into the perfect lullaby. Steve drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting quietly on Bucky’s thigh, and the two of them share a look, the kind that says everything without words.

And in the back seat, warm and all out of energy from the big day… you drift off to sleepy, safe and loved as ever.

A Little Mess Won’t Hurt

Pairing: Stucky x little!reader [Disclaimer: Age Regression!]

Summary: Despite your love for the arts, you’ve always been hesitant to use your paint kits, watercolors, or anything that could make a mess. Your caregivers notice and help you try finger painting for the first time.

Word Count: 1.9k+

A/N: This is purely a self-indulgent kind of fic. More on the fluffier side, hopefully.

Main Masterlist

You sit quietly on the couch, legs crossed beneath you, as you watch Steve work on his sketchbook. The pencil moves fluidly across the page, creating beautiful shapes, faces, and scenes. You’re mesmerized by how easily his hand moves, as if the paper were an extension of himself. His concentration makes him look so calm, so relaxed, and you wish you could do that too. Create something beautiful.

You reach over and grab your coloring book, your favorite one with intricate patterns of flowers and animals, and open it to the next unfinished page. You’ve always loved coloring, the neat lines and precise strokes, careful to stay inside the borders. But when you think about what Steve is doing and what Bucky sometimes does when he’s working with paints and clay, it makes your chest feel tight. You’ve never touched the paint kits or watercolor sets that Steve bought for you. It always feels like a line you’re afraid to cross.

Your fingers itch to try it. You know it’s fun. You’ve seen Bucky with his hands covered in clay and Steve covered in paint, laughing and smiling, their faces bright with joy. But the mess… the mess always brings memories you don’t like. The sharp words. The scolding. The fear of ruining something precious.

"Hey, kiddo, you done with your drawing?" Steve’s voice cuts through your thoughts. You blink, looking up at him. He’s watching you with soft eyes, a half-smile on his face. "You’re awfully quiet today."

You fidget with your coloring book, picking at the edges. "I’m just… coloring," You mumble, offering him a small smile.

Steve notices the way your gaze flicks back to his sketchbook, your eyes lingering on his pencil as it moves. He sets his book aside gently and leans closer, his voice tender but curious.

"You know," He starts, "I’ve got a new sketchbook in the other room. But it’s not the only way to make art."

Your heart skips a beat. You’ve heard them talk about painting before. About how messy it gets and how much fun it is. They thought you would like it. Bucky has even shown you his pottery and tried to convince you to join him in the studio once, but you always hesitated. The idea of making a mess, of getting dirty? It just felt wrong.

"I—" You pause, unsure how to explain. You tug at the hem of your shirt, a nervous habit. "I like… watching. But I don’t know if I could… do it."

Steve’s eyes soften as he tilts his head. "Do what, sweetheart?"

"Make a mess," You murmur, almost embarrassed.

The room falls into a quiet moment, Steve’s gaze turning understanding. He’s seen the way you’ve avoided the paints, the watercolors, the clay. He knows how much you love the idea of creating, anything to do with art. He can see it in your eyes every time you sit with your coloring book, every time you watch him draw. But he also knows there’s something holding you back. Something deeply rooted.

"You don’t have to be afraid of making a mess with us," Steve says gently. "You’re safe here. We’re not going to scold you for it. You don’t have to be perfect."

You glance up at him, your cheeks flushing. The words feel foreign, like they shouldn’t be said to you. But… they are. And the warmth in Steve’s voice makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could try.

"You sure?" You whisper.

Bucky, who has been quietly listening from the armchair, smiles softly and walks over to where you’re sitting. He crouches down to your level, his expression warm and inviting.

"I’ll even help you clean up after," He promises. "We can have a little messy play time, just the three of us. No judgment, no worries. Just fun."

Your heart flutters in your chest. The idea of it sounds fun. So much fun, in fact, that you can feel your fingers twitch with excitement. But the fear still clings to you. You don’t want to disappoint them too. You don’t want to make a mess at all.

Steve catches the look in your eyes and gives you a soft smile. "It’s okay if you don’t want to yet," He reassures calmly, "But I think you’ll enjoy it. Sometimes, making a little mess is how we make the best memories."

Bucky holds out his hand, "What do you say, kiddo? Wanna try it with us? You can start small. Just dip your fingers in a little bit of paint. We’ll take it slow."

You hesitate. Your fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt as you think, battling with the urge to try something new and the fear of failure. But then Steve places a gentle hand on your shoulder, the warmth of his touch calming you. "No pressure. If you don’t like it, we can always stop. But if you want to, we can make something really special."

You glance at Bucky, who’s still waiting patiently. He doesn’t look rushed or frustrated. He’s simply… waiting for you to decide. To trust them and that’s the push you need.

Taking a deep breath, you nod, just a little.

"I’ll try," Your voice barely audible.

Bucky’s smile grows, and he gently takes your hand, as he brings you to the dining table. Steve grabs some of the finger painting supplies and sets them down near you. The tray of paints now sits before you with a blank sheet of paper. The colors are so bright, so inviting, and for the first time, you feel a small wave of excitement wash over you. You slowly reach over, still hesitant but brave. Bucky’s voice remains light and reassuring.

"That’s it. Now, just a little dab," He encourages.

You dip your fingers into the paint, the cool sensation making your breath catch in your throat. And then, with a deep breath, you press your fingers to the paper.

It’s messy. It’s a little wild. But it’s also… freeing.

Steve watches you with pride, his gaze soft as you begin to explore the colors with more confidence. Bucky’s chuckles ring in the air as he joins you on another page, painting alongside you. The mess doesn’t seem so bad now. In fact, it’s kind of fun. And with Steve and Bucky by your side, it’s safe. There’s no judgment, no scolding. Just a loving space where you can make something beautiful, even if it’s a little messy.

The paint feels warmer now, smoother against your fingertips as you move your hand across the page. You make a bold swirl of yellow and green, your face lighting up with a quiet smile as you experiment with the colors. It’s not perfect, but that’s the best part. The colors bleed into one another in playful patterns, as if the paper itself is dancing with you.

Bucky glances, grinning as you explore. "That’s it, kiddo. Let it flow," He says, his voice filled with encouragement. He’s got a bit of red paint smeared on his cheek from his own work, but he doesn’t mind. "No rules. Just fun."

You glance at him, then at Steve, who’s already made a few broad strokes on his paper with a brush. The whole room feels lighter, almost fizzing with energy as the three of you work in a little creative chaos together.

Steve watches you with a fond smile, leaning in to dip his own brush into a deep purple. "There you go," He adds. "Look at that swirl. Looks like a rainbow already."

You tilt your head and glance at your page, and sure enough, the yellow and green you've painted already do look like the beginnings of a rainbow, the colors blending like the hues of a sunset.

The idea of a perfect painting slowly fades from your mind, and you start adding more colors, simply having fun with it. Maybe blue here, a touch of red there. Bucky and Steve occasionally encourage you, their voices soft but full of praise. The weight of your old anxieties begins to melt away. They never push you to do anything more than you’re ready for, and you find yourself taking more risks, adding blobs of color that you wouldn’t have dared to make a few minutes ago.

The first few smudges on your fingers did feel odd at first, but then you realize they aren’t that bad. You laugh when a bit of orange accidentally splatters onto the side of your cheek. Bucky chuckles too, and reaches over with a napkin to wipe it away. "Guess you’re really getting into it now."

You can’t help but laugh back, the sound light and airy, filling the room with the pure joy of finally letting go.

It’s so much fun—more than you thought it could be. You notice that the fear you had about messing up seems so small now. There’s a comforting warmth in knowing that Steve and Bucky are right there with you, sharing in the mess, the fun, and the art. No one’s looking to judge or critique, just to enjoy the moment together.

The hours pass quickly, the three of you laughing and creating. Before you know it, your page is a beautiful, colorful mess. It’s nothing like the neat, careful drawings you used to make. Instead, it’s a chaotic explosion of colors, shapes, and patterns that make your heart flutter. You didn’t have to hold back. You didn’t have to be perfect. And that’s exactly what made it perfect.

"Look at you," Steve’s voice is full of pride as he leans in to admire your work. "I think we’ve got ourselves an artist in the making."

Bucky grins, nudging you lightly with his shoulder; his tone full of love and approval. "You’ve got a real eye for this, you know."

You smile, a warm, contented feeling filling your chest. Your hands are a little sticky with paint, and your shirt has a few splatters too, but you don’t mind. You look over at Bucky and Steve, seeing their faces beaming with pride. You realize that it wasn’t just about making art. It was about trusting them enough to let go, to not be afraid of what could happen if things got messy.

As you finish the last few touches on your page, you feel a sense of accomplishment. Your masterpiece isn’t about following the rules or being perfect. It’s a reflection of you: creative, brave, and free.

Steve and Bucky glance over at each other and share a look, one of shared pride and understanding. They’re proud of you for stepping out of your comfort zone, for trusting them, and for making something beautiful in the process.

When the paintings are finally dry, Steve gathers them up carefully. "We’ll hang these on the fridge," He smiles when your face lights up. "We’ll put yours right at the top, where everyone can see."

Bucky nods, pulling you into a soft, affectionate hug. "You did so good, sweetheart. You made a mess, and you made art. That’s what it’s all about."

You snuggle into his arms, still grinning from ear to ear. It feels good. It feels right.

And for the first time, you don’t worry about what happens if things get a little messy. Because, in this moment, you realize that a little mess is part of the magic. Part of the fun. And no matter what mess happens, you’re safe enough to make it with the people who love you.

Sick Day

Summary: You’re sick and your fathers take care of you. (Stucky x little!reader)

Disclaimer: Age Regression. Reader is sick.

Word Count: 400+

A/N: I tried to write more paragraphs, but I’m noticing dialogue makes that hard. Experimental blurb basically. Also, I discovered the read more button. Main Masterlist

You wake up feeling wrong.

Your head is fuzzy, your nose is stuffy, and your whole body feels like it’s moving through molasses. Even the soft sheets wrapped around you feel too heavy. When you try to sit up, a wave of dizziness knocks you right back down. Your head falls back onto the pillow, defeated. 

Your whimper must’ve been louder than you thought, because before long, you hear footsteps approaching. They’re slow, careful, familiar. The door then creaks open, revealing one of your fathers.

“Hey,” Bucky says gently, voice low and full of concern. He steps inside, moving next to your bed without hesitation. “You’re burning up, doll.”

You don’t argue. You can’t. Everything hurts. You blink at him, eyes glassy, and manage a tiny, miserable sound. Bucky doesn’t say anything more. He just presses the back of his hand to your forehead and frowns. Bucky scoops you up without a word, wrapping you in a blanket like you’re the most fragile thing in the world. You let your head rest against his shoulder, too tired to lift it. He grabs your stuffed bunny as he carries you to the living room couch, where Steve has already set up a cozy little nest of pillows and soft blankets. 

Steve walks in from the kitchen, holding a glass of water and a thermometer, already in full nurse-mode. “Told you she looked flushed last night,” He murmurs as he sets the glass down on the coffee table, concern evident in his expression. “Think it’s a cold, maybe more.”

Bucky hums in agreement as he lays you down and tucks the blanket under your chin, your stuffed animal placed nearby for comfort. “You just rest. We’ve got you.”

Steve comes over, brushing your hair back gently and slides the thermometer into your mouth before you can protest. You’re too dazed to mind. When it beeps, they exchange a look you’re too tired to read; something between worry and protectiveness.

“Gonna make you some tea,” Steve states. “Chamomile, with honey. That sound good, sweetheart?”

You nod faintly, eyes already drifting shut. Bucky stays beside you, fingers tracing soft circles on your back, his voice a quiet murmur of comfort. “Rest now, doll. No fighting it. You’re safe.”

You don’t need to pretend to be strong today. Not with them. Not ever.

And as your eyes flutter closed again, you know; no matter how bad you feel, you’re going to be okay. Because they’re here. 

Difficult Morning

Summary: You’re having a harder time waking up this morning. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are patient and comforting throughout. [Disclaimer: Age Regression!] Word Count: 700+

A/N: What better way to start the blog than to start the day.

Main Masterlist

The morning light is softer than usual, and the room feels like it’s spinning just a little. You can’t quite remember how you got here, but you’re already clinging to the blankets like it’s your only anchor.

Your head hurts. It’s that sort of ache that makes your eyes sting, and everything feels fuzzy and distant.

You want to stay tucked under the covers, but there’s a feeling in your chest that’s hard to ignore. Something’s wrong. You don’t know what it is, but you’re not okay.

Your breathing comes in small, uneven gasps as you curl up tighter, pressing your face into the pillow. The bed feels too big for you today.

You hear a door creak open, followed by soft footsteps. Then Bucky’s voice, gentle, “Hey, kiddo. You up?”

You want to answer, but your throat feels tight. You don’t want to talk. You don’t know how to talk. You just want to stay where it’s safe.

Steve appears, and his expression softens when he sees you, curled up with your face hidden, your hands clutching at the blanket.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asks quietly. His tone is light, but you can hear the concern in it.

You can’t speak.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, his voice steady. “It’s okay, doll. We’re here. You just need a minute?”

You nod, but even the simple motion feels like too much. You feel so tired, like your body’s made of lead, like your thoughts are swirling too fast to catch. It all feels so overwhelming to you.

Bucky reaches out, his metal hand brushing gently against your arm. “You wanna talk about it?”

The words stick in your throat. You can’t explain why it’s so hard. You want to, but everything’s stuck inside, and it’s too much.

Steve kneels beside the bed, his hand soft on your back. “How about we get you up for some breakfast? Just pancakes, yeah? You like those, right?”

You don’t answer, but Steve’s hand stays on your back, rubbing slow circles that help ground you just a little. He doesn’t push. He just waits. You can feel Bucky’s presence beside you, steady and calm.

After a long moment, Bucky adds in softly, “We’ll take it slow, okay? No rush. You just let us know when you’re ready to move, and we’ll help you.”

You don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, your fingers uncurl from the blanket, and you feel Steve’s gentle touch on your arm, helping you sit up. It feels like your whole body is heavy, like you can’t quite hold yourself together.

“Come on, we’re gonna get you to the kitchen,” Steve says, his voice soft but firm, like a quiet promise. “Bucky, you wanna help her up while I grab the pancakes?”

Bucky gives a quiet hum of agreement, his hand reaching out to help lift you gently from the bed. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t make it feel like something’s expected of you. His arm is around your waist, his other hand steady on your back. Steve already departing the room toward the kitchen, preparing your breakfast.

You cling to him instinctively, your eyes still closed as you let him guide you through the apartment, already feeling safe against his chest.

When you get to the table, Bucky moves to set you down in your chair. However, a soft whine escapes your lips as you hold on a little tighter. He doesn’t mind though, taking a seat instead and placing you in his lap. He adjusts his hold, his voice soft as he assures you, “We’re not going anywhere, baby. We’ve got you.”

Steve places the pancakes in front of you, but you don’t feel like eating. You poke at the whipped cream, your hand unsteady, and then push a tiny piece into your mouth.

“You’re doing great,” Steve says quietly, sitting beside you. “One step at a time, okay? No pressure.”

You try to smile, but it’s small. It feels like too much. You want to speak, to say that you’re sorry or thank them, but the words just don’t come. Instead, you curl closer into Bucky’s chest, burying your face in his shirt.

“It’s okay to just be here with us, Doll,” Bucky says, kissing the top of your head. “No need to talk. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Steve reaches over and rests a hand on your back, steady and reassuring. “We’re right here, kid. You don’t have to be big today. You’re safe with us.”

And as you sit there between them, slowly easing into their warmth and comforting words, you realize that it’s enough. You don’t need to explain. You don’t need to be big right now. You don’t need to push through it all on your own. They’re here, and that’s what matters.