A Rose By Any Other Name (Steve Harrington X Plus Size Y/N)
A/N: I decided to release it tonight :)
The hormones have spoken!
Like I said, this will probably be a small series, like 3 chapters total.
Enjoy <3
Warnings: Older (Late Thirties) Daddy Dom Professor Steve Harrington & Young (Early Twenties) Sub Fem Erotic Call Line Worker/ Student Plus Size Y/N (phew! That was a mouth full!), SMUT, phone sex, daddy kink (obvs), mutual masturbation (over the phone), oral (m & f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v, sex in Steve's office, LOTS of dirty talk.
ANGST, the whole relationship is angsty with Steve being her professor, Y/N mentions fear over her size and how she looks (very brief, she afraid she won't visual be what he expects), um...Y/N had a bit of a panic attack (again brief), Cliffhanger ending if you squint (Ive given y'all worse!)
Word Count: 5491
“That’s it, sexy girl. Ride your fingers for Daddy, baby.”
Biting your bottom lip, you try to contain your groan as you do what this man on your phone commands, lying on your tummy with your hips bouncing against your digits. It wasn’t enough, it never was but you loved the way he spoke to you.
Unlike the other men who called into the erotic line you worked for; Steve Harrington actually sounded like he knew what he was doing.
Normally, you faked it with the people that called but with him, you didn’t want to, ignoring the fact that he could always tell anyway.
You heard the slight whirring on his side followed by his firm grunt that had your pussy clenching around your appendages knowing he was pleasuring himself to you.
“W-What are you using tonight, Daddy?”
“You can hear that, huh?”, he chuckles. “Fuck, I bought one of those fleshlights online hoping it would be better than my hand but—shit—I wish it was your tight pussy clinging to my cock.” You moan at his words, pumping your fingers into you at a faster pace as you neared your release. “You like that don’t you, sweetheart? You like hearing Daddy’s filthy mouth?”
“I do. Fuck…M’gonna cum. Please, Daddy, can I cum?”
“Mmph, yeah, baby. Let me hear it.” You whine into your device, collapsing fully onto your bed as you roll your hips and the ball drops in your stomach. “Fuck, Rose, you sound so goddamn beautiful when you cum. I’m going to fucking cum to. Fucking picturing you here on your knees in front of me with your mouth open…tongue out…you want my cum, don’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy, please.”
You lazily smirk into your mattress as you listen to him grunt before his steady breathing fills the line followed by a light chuckle that matches your own.
“Shit, baby.”
“Yeah.”, you giggle, rolling on to your back and closing your eyes.
“Are you ok over there?”
“Mmmm yeah. Just picturing you laying here with me.”
Your grin grows at the sound of his throaty laugh, imaging him tilting his head back exactly like you were as you both stared at the ceiling.
“I could do that you know. You said you’re in Indiana like me…”
“Mhmm but you don’t know where.”
“You could tell me and I’d drive right over.”
“What if I’m on the other side of the state?!”, you tease, your grin growing when you hear him continue to laugh.
“Any number of miles is worth the drive if I get to spend time with you, sweetheart.” A pleasant sigh escapes you and you suffocate the urge to give in.
“Naw, it’s late. Plus, you have school tomorrow.”
“Pfft, yeah, don’t remind me. Not that I hate my job. It’s just the first day is meeting these kids half my age who are only taking my course as an elective before most of them drop to take something more exciting.”
“Don’t say that, grandpa.” Steve laughs harder at your joke and you swoon at the sound. “I know how you feel. I have my first day courses to and from the student side, that ‘what to expect’ first day is just so draining.”
“Trust me, honey. Us professors hate it to. Then again if I had you in my class maybe it wouldn’t be so draining.”
“Steve.”, you coo. “Go to bed and, um, I’ll talk to you on Wednesday?”
“I wish you would let me give you my number. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind paying but—”
“Steve, we talked about this. We decided—”
“YOU decided because you think it’s best we remain anonymous for some reason but, Rose, I really like talking to you.”
“You don’t even know my real name. You don’t know what I look like or—”
“That shit doesn’t matter to me.” Silence fills the phone before he heavily sighs. “I meant what you look like. Your real name matters to me. I also understand why you’re guarded in this line of work but I don’t know, baby…I feel different when I talk to you.”
“Go to bed, Stevie. I’ll talk to you later, ok?”
Again, you hear him exhale before the line abruptly disconnects.
***
You rubbed your eyes and yawned as you shuffled into your first class that morning.
You barely got any sleep thinking about the man you spent the summer getting to know.
When you took the job at an erotic call center, you figured it would be relatively simple. Answer, pretend to be a pin up model style of a woman, and get people off for a good chunk of change at the end of the week. Tuition was incredibly draining on your finances and this made it easy for you to get paid while not having to work a full-time job AND still focus on your classes.
Steve was completely unexpected.
You never thought you’d meet someone you liked and enjoyed talking to through the line. When the company offered the extension service, you laughed thinking you’d never give someone that information since none of the men that called were people you wanted to hear from again. If they weren’t drunk men, it was cocky fuckers who though they were God’s gift to humanity.
Steve was different.
When he called the first time, the two of you spent the entire time talking about his recent divorce and how hard it was for him to be dating again after so much time. His wife had been his high school sweetheart and they had been together for fifteen years before she left him.
He had just left an incredibly bad date when he called into your line.
Even after that first call, you trusted him enough to give him your extension and actually grew accustomed to him calling on certain evenings. You both would talk about your days and you did reveal some things about yourself (except your real name, what you looked like, the city you lived in, etc).
After another bad date and some drinks on his side, he finally got the courage to really flirt with you. Steve told you how he always had a fantasy about being called Daddy and you called him by the title seamlessly.
“Don’t. Don’t call me that because you feel like you have to.”
“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do, Steve.”
“Hm, I bet. How many other assholes ask you to call them Daddy while they fuck their fist?”, he slurred, angrily.
“That’s not the question you should be asking.”
“Oh? Then what should it be, honey?”
“How many other men do I say it to…and mean it?”, you murmur in a seductive timbre. “How many other men have I said that to and then felt my pussy get wet at the fact that they can prove to me they deserve the title?”
“How many, Rose?”
“One…you…”
You genuinely did enjoy him and his company but the truth of the matter was you were terrified. Like most men who called, he probably had this mental image of you in his head. It would kill you if you met up with him and he gave you that look that a lot of men had given you in the past when you met up with them for a blind date your friends set up.
As you entered the classroom, you took your normal seat and pulled out all the books you knew were required realizing only then you were one of the few that had them on hand.
“Alright, guys. Good morning, everyone, good morning.”, a man you assumed was your new professor greeted, soft amber hues swiveling around the room before finding yours and nodding politely when you gently smile his way. “Welcome to creative writing 3024. If you’re in the wrong class, don’t worry about it. The more the merrier.”
Students including you giggle at his joke and the man in front of you smiles wide as he nods.
“I’m, uh, I’m Professor Steve Harrington and—”
Your eyes bulge as all the sound within the room seems to disappear.
Steve Harrington.
Your heart began to beat faster as your brain ran through everything you knew about the man you had been speaking with for the past few months.
Steve Harrington, from Indiana, Professor, Late 30s, tall, fluffy brown hair, lean but still muscular, likes reading unique stories and watching movies…fuck, fuck, fuck.
“…and I know this whole ‘go over the syllabus thing isn’t for everyone so let me just run through it real fast and then you guys are free.”
Your professor laughed and your heart beat faster at the sound.
Oh my God it’s him. H-How…in all of Indiana…how…
“Excuse me.” Fingers lightly touched your forearm and you gasped loudly as you were pulled out of your thoughts. “Whoa! Whoa! It’s ok, you’re ok.” You glanced around the room to realize everyone had filed out except for you and Steve who was now kneeling beside your desk. “At least I hope you are. I have been known to lull people to sleep with my lectures before.”
You couldn’t help but giggle making him smile.
“Do you need some water or something?”
“No, sir, thank you.”, you murmur, collecting your things and starting to stand before you fall back down in your seat.
“Ok, ok, let’s just sit here for a bit. I know that the first day can either be incredibly boring or anxiety inducing so…no rush…”
“There’s, um, there’s no in-between? Like some boring anxiety or something?”
Mr. Harrington chuckles and you know in that moment this is the same man you had been speaking with; you’d know that laugh anywhere, in any crowd.
A tear involuntary falls down your cheek and he notices.
“What’s your name?” You hesitate for a moment, your eyes flicking to his and down his handsome features before softly stuttering out your name. “Nice to meet you. I’m Steve Harrington.” When he extends out his palm for you to shake you breathily laugh as you take it in yours.
Jesus, his hands are so big.
“What made you choose creative writing? Is it an elective for you or do you genuinely enjoy writing?”, he asks, his expression full of earnestness as if he genuinely wanted to know the answer.
“I, um, I like writing especially fantasy.”
“Oh, that’s a good genre. A couple of my best friends are D&D nerds so I’ve read some of those novels. I’m more prone to thrillers with some horror like ‘Red Dragon’ by—”
“Thomas Harris. Yeah, that whole series is pretty good. I also liked Black Sunday by him.”
Steve’s smile grew as he nodded, shifting his gaze and allowing you to really take in the man you had gotten to know but never truly seen.
His hair was immaculate but it had a soft look that made you want to run your fingers through the tufts of it that wisped from left to right on his head. While his features were gentle, you could see the little creases of laugh lines around the corners of his eyes and the bridge of his nose. The light dusting of facial hair along his cheeks and upper lip made him look slightly older than he was but they definitely drew attention to his extremely kissable lips.
Today he had chosen to dress relatively casual with beige slacks and a white button up shirt accompanied with a red tie that hung loosely along his chest. Little bits of his chest hair peeked out at the top drawing your attention to the freckles and moles along his throat that you desperately wanted to nuzzle into as you inhaled his delicious smelling cologne.
You blinked back into the reality of your situation and this time rose to your feet with no problem.
“I, um, thank you for staying with me. I’m ok now.”
“Are you sure? We can sit a bit longer if you need to—”
“No, no, sir. I appreciate you staying but, um, I should go…”
You feel his eyes following you as you scurry out the door.
###################
The next couple weeks that passed, you had no idea what to do, choosing instead not to schedule yourself for any hours till you got your mind right.
You missed him terribly even though you technically saw him every other day in class. Even with his outspoken and kind demeanor, you noticed as the time progressed, he became noticeably uptight with his words coming out short and clipped.
“Alright guys, that’s it for today. I graded the first drafts you sent in so you can find those online. Make those edits and next draft is due Friday. Y/N, can you stay for a bit?”
You nod, swallowing the nerves in your throat as you lag beside the desk in front of the room till the last person slams the door behind him.
“How are you doing, Y/N? Last time I talked to you, you almost passed out.”, he lightly teased making you smile.
“I’m doing alright, Mr. Harrington, thank you.”
“That’s good.”, he praises, leaning back in his seat as your eyes shamelessly run down his muscular form. “I asked you to stay because your draft isn’t online. I printed it out and went over it a few times because I’m an old man and I miss things but… you’re the first student I’ve had in years where…I honestly don’t have any notes for you. This is amazing and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t riveted.”
You can’t help but blush and hug your arms around your frame.
“Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from you.”
“I mean it. I’m invested in the main couple of your story but I have to ask not as your professor but a fan.” Steve pauses with a grin when you laugh. “Astrid disappeared and left Rune saying she did it to protect them both from a secret. What’s the secret? It has to be big for her to leave without telling him.”
You detect the sadness behind his tone and your heart breaks slightly at the sound.
“Um, it is big but I can tell you she cares about him and misses him. She just doesn’t want to hurt him.”
“Hm, well not hearing from her is probably hurting him either way. Just, uh, speaking from experience.”
You blink as Steve glances into the void.
“Mr. Harrington? What if the secret could ruin their relationship? Like…what if he found out things about her that made him think she was…terrible. Like he had this idea built up in his head and then she confesses her secret and he realizes she’s not what he thought?”
“Oof. That’s definitely a dynamic that’s real. Personally? I think that if he really cares about her as much as it seems, it doesn’t matter what she’s hiding. He’ll still love her for her.”
“T-Thank you, Mr. Harrington.”
“Yeah, of course. I look forward to seeing how you develop this story.”
“Yeah, me to.”, you whisper.
***
You sigh as you log into the device and application the erotic phone line provided before getting to work. You couldn’t avoid it anymore and desperately had bills that needed to be paid.
The calls came in few and far between as you worked on your homework for your other classes but after a couple of hours, your phone rang as Steve’s information filled your laptop.
Exhaling out your nerves, you answered the way you were taught in training.
“Where have you been, Rose? Why the fuck are you answering like any of the other assholes who call you?”, he growled. “Do you know how worried I’ve been?!”
“I’m sorry, Steve. I genuinely am.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit! Answer my question. Where have you been?!” Swallowing your pain, you try to answer his question but you can’t as you begin to quietly cry. “Baby…”, he coos with a sigh. “What’s going on, honey, talk to me.”
“I can’t.”, you whisper. “I’m scared…I don’t want—want to lose you but I don’t want you to get in trouble either.”
“Sweetheart, why would I get in trouble? Is…is someone hurting you?” At his growled words, your heart fluttered.
He really was a good man.
“No…I’M hurting you…Steve, I have to tell you something and when I do you’re going to hate me—”
“I could never hate you. I just want to know what’s going on and if someone is hurting you or anything, I swear to God, I’ll drive all over Indiana till I find you and protect you.”
The confidence in his tone has you smiling even as the tears fall down your face.
“You won’t have to d-drive very far. I’m…I live in Hawkins.” You hear it on the other side of the line, the tight hitch of his breath. “I-I ran into you in a place I wasn’t expecting…you’re much more handsome than you told me.”, you giggle, barely covering the sound of your sobs.
“Why…why didn’t you say anything? Have you met me before? Do we know each other? I feel like…like I’d recognize your voice…”
“Maybe you did but in this setting you didn’t believe it could be me. Or maybe you didn’t want it to be.”
Silence fills the line before a heavy sigh left his chest.
“You’re one of my students, aren’t you?” The small, heartbroken way he asked his question had you covering your mouth to contain the cry that quietly emitted. “Rose, it’s ok, honey. Everything’s alright. Fuck, I hate hearing you in pain.”
The sound of a bottle cracking open fills your ears followed by loud gulping noises you know is him drinking a beer.
“Well, that won’t be enough.”, he chuckles. “Look, um, can you at least tell me your name? Your real name.”
“Don’t you think we should keep the anonymity?”
Again, he laughs but it’s filled with a bitterness you had never heard from him before.
“I spent years of my marriage being with a woman who didn’t love me, my parents chew my ass out any chance they get about my profession, I’ve been on so many bad dates, and the one girl I actually STUPIDLY pictured myself being with is someone I can’t have. Now, tell me your goddamn name…”
At his last couple of words, his voice cracks and your heart tears in two.
“NOW!”
You jump at his deep shout that has the little girl inside you cower.
“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” He doesn’t respond and you feel yourself shrink further inward. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Harrington.”
And with that you disconnect your line.
#############
You half expected him to cancel class but when you showed up to find him writing things out on the chalkboard you weren’t surprised.
Steve genuinely loved teaching and it was the one thing he seemed to have control over in his life right now.
Throughout his lesson, his head remained down and the few times he did look up, he didn’t even bother to glance your way. When the class ended you slowly gathered your books and began a gradual stride towards the door past his desk before his voice gave you pause.
“Miss Y/L/N, can you stay behind, please?”
You nod, lingering behind till the last student leaves but even then he doesn’t speak, his eyes lingering on the wood in front of him.
“You said you wanted me to stay?”, you whisper and this time he nods, his index finger tapping the furniture beneath it. “Look, um, I can’t stay here all day so what did you need or I can come back later when you know what you want to say…”
“Freeze.”, he commands firmly as you start to walk away, your shoes squeaking against the linoleum on the floor. You hear him sigh as his own brown leather footwear click your way before they fill your field of view. “Look at me.”
Your jaw tightens as you shake your head, suffocating that strong need to cry again.
“Look at me…Rose…”
Hearing him say the name he had been calling you by for months over the phone in your presence sent an electricity through your body you weren’t prepared for.
Lifting your chin, your eyes finally meet his amber irises and again Steve exhales as if he had been holding his breath the whole time, his body visibly relaxing as his entire frame deflates.
Gradually raising his hand, his fingers caress your cheek, resting against your skin as his thumb found its way to your bottom lip.
“I-I know I’m probably not what you pictured—”
“You’re right, you’re not.”, he whispers. Your lip starts to tremble as your head begins to hang once more but his strong grip on your face keeps you in place. “You’re even more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.” His forehead tilts till it rests against yours and your brain stutters slightly at the smell of his breath warming your mouth as he speaks. “I missed you so much when you disappeared.”
“I’m sorry. I thought maybe if you thought I left it would all go away. I didn’t know what to do.” At your murmured words, your arms circle around his waist to bring him closer, the sound of his subtle groan making your pussy drip as the bulge in his pants grazed your body. “I missed you to, Daddy.”
Hearing his title was the last little push over caution he needed, lifting his head abruptly to look around before grabbing your hand and yanking you through a door behind the desk in the classroom that you had never realized led to his office.
After locking it behind him, Steve hastily scurried to the opposite side of the room to lock the opposite side as well and pull down the shade to block the glass that peered into the hallway. When he turned around to face you again, his eyes had darkened with intent as he made a beeline for you and crashed his lips to your own.
The taste of coffee and toothpaste overwhelmed you but not as much as the taste that can only be described as Steve. You couldn’t get enough, addicted the moment his mouth connected to yours. Your arms locked around his neck, desperate to keep him close as your tongue roamed and were delighted when his caressed yours.
Rough hands pulled at your shirt, lifting it over your head and tossing it aside. Yanking one of the cups out of the way, his mouth promptly attached to your erect nipple, your moans fueling him as the organ between his teeth played with what he wanted for so long.
“Fuck, Daddy.”
Pants leave his chest as he open mouth kisses down your tummy, falling to his knees and bunching your skirt up around your waist.
A small squeak emits from you as your professor presses his nose against your panty covered core.
“Jesus, honey, you smell so fucking good. You have no idea how much Daddy dreamed about devouring your little pussy till you were begging me to stop. God…” Steve growled lightly, his tongue pressing to your clit as his mouth closed around you, sucking at your underwear before grunting and releasing them to kiss your inner thigh. “Let’s get these off. Good girl.”, he praises as he pulls the lace down your limbs and throws them absently to the side.
His eyes meet your lust fueled ones with a sexy smirk as he sticks two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them with his saliva. When they find their way in your core, your eyes roll shut as your head tips back towards the ceiling.
“You’re so fucking tight, baby. How is my cock supposed to fit? We’ll have to make it fit, won’t we?”, he whispers more to himself than to you, pushing his thick digits deeper into you. “Yeah we will. You don’t mind if it hurts a little do you, sweetheart?”
“N-No, no, Daddy.”
“That’s my girl.”
Steve’s lips encapsulated your bundle of nerves as his fingers found a steady rhythm while your own appendages threaded through his hair hoping to ground yourself with no luck.
“Oh…Oh my God. D-Daddy, slow…slow down.”
As if your words were egging him on, his tongue flicked faster, applying the perfect pressure that had your knees buckling while your palms gripped his desk for dear life as you came harder than you ever had before.
The man’s smile grew as you tried to stand on your shaky legs but failed causing him to grip your bicep and help fully guide you onto your knees.
While you fumbled with his belt buckle, he all but ripped at his button up shirt exposing the white tank underneath barely concealing the tuft of chest hair peeking out the stop.
Steve’s slacks clanked to the ground around his ankles allowing his cock to spring free and you couldn’t help but salivate at the sight. The man above you hissed when your hand made contact with his shaft, heavy in your hand as you brought his tip to your lips and lightly licked the end.
“Fuck, baby.”, he groaned, his stomach flexing when your mouth fully wrapped around him. “That’s it. Your tongue feels way better than—mmph—then that stupid fucking toy. Fuck!”, your professor grunted through gritted teeth trying not to be too loud.
Taking a hold of your hands, he pinned them against the edge of the desk behind you and thrust his hips allowing his length to glide effortlessly on your tongue.
“Daddy’s going to fuck your throat. Can you handle me?”
“Y-Yes, Daddy.”
“Yeah? Keep your eyes on me, honey, don’t move them.”
You did what he commanded, his own hues struggling to remain locked on yours as he pumped his dick deeper down your throat allowing you to gag around him before pulling back.
“Goddamn it, pretty girl. Such a good fucking girl. Wanted this for so long…since I—fuck—first talked to you…and you were so fucking sweet to me. Shit—come here. I can’t wait anymore.”
You gasped for air as he quickly pulled out of your mouth and tugged you to your feet, gripping the back of your thighs to lift you onto his desk near the edge. Taking a hold of his base, you both mewled as he ran the length of himself between your folds.
“C-Can you do me a favor, Daddy, please?”
Tilting over your curvy frame, his lips tenderly pecked at your own.
“Anything, baby, all you have to do is ask.”, he whispered.
“Say my name.” At your request, Steve blinked, pulling back slightly so he could scan your features. “My name. Not…not the other one…”
Softly smiling, he cupped your cheek, allowing his thumb to caress your skin.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”, he murmurs, subtly rolling his hips against yours. “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.” Glancing between your bodies, Steve took hold of himself once more and positioned his tip at your entrance, his gaze shifting to your face as he began guiding himself inside you. “Oh…FUC—”
His palm slamming over your mouth cut you off as he thrust another inch into your hole.
“Shhhh! You can’t be that—shit—that loud. Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N.”, he mewled, removing his hand so he could use his thumb to rub circles into your clit. “Is this what you were thinking about when y-you fucked your fingers every time I called?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Did anyone else you talked to make you feel like I do?”
“No, sir. I only ever touched myself with you.”
He breathed a sigh of relief at your admission, his cock twitching as he pushed further inside your pussy till you felt his hips meet yours.
“Show me, baby. Show Daddy how you played with yourself.”
As your hand drifted to your bundle of nerves, Steve lifted your leg over his shoulder and hugged your thigh for leverage as he pulled all the way back and roughly slammed his cock deep inside your core.
His pace was relentless with so much built-up energy between you both that needed to be released. Honey irises couldn’t find one place to focus on while he absorbed the way your face scrunched in pleasure, your tits bouncing with each thrust he delivered, and your fingers that tried to keep up with his rhythm but faltered.
“So fucking sexy, Y/N. Look at you fall apart on my dick. I can feel your pussy stretching around me, honey, fuck.”
“I’m…I’m gonna…”
“Are you gonna cum, baby girl? That’s it…Good girl. Cum on Daddy’s cock.”
Your hands reach for him and he obliges, dropping your leg and pulling at your wrists till you were sitting upright with your forehead pressed to his and your arms secured around his neck.
“Come on, Y/N, let me see you cum.” Your body began to quiver against his and when your head began to dip back, his palm in your hair held you in place. “I’ve heard it, honey, now let Daddy see it.”
Nails dug into his shoulders as your heavy pants and groans warmed his face just as the ball in your stomach dropped. Steve fucked you through it, his eyes studying every detail on your face like a work of art.
“Good girl, my good girl. Where can I cum, Y/N? Can Daddy fill you up?”
“Yes, please.”, you slur, drunk off your orgasm, your fingers tangling into his hair behind his own head. “Cum inside me, Daddy.”
The tip of your nose grazes his just as his eyes squeeze shut and his jaw tightens, his pace sputtering as his release coats your walls.
Your half-lidded eyes watch as his chest rises and falls with each breath, your head leaning so you can press your ear to it as you listen to his heartbeat. His limbs circle around you, his hug encasing you in comfort while he plays with your hair.
“Steve?”
“Hm?”
“I’m sorry I ignored you.”, you mumble causing him to lean back so he could see your face and hear your better. “I didn’t know what to do so I just…”, you shrug. “… I hated hearing you upset. I’m…I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
“Hey, hey, hey.”, he coos when you start to cry, trying to pull out without hurting you. “I understand why you did. It’s a…a tough situation and you were handling it alone.”
“Did you mean what you said? About picturing a life with her…with Rose…”
Steve blinks for a moment before pulling up his pants and you can see the wheels in his head spin as he thinks carefully about he should say.
“Yeah, honey, I did. Maybe…maybe it WAS stupid. I mean…falling for a girl I met over an erotic call line…” After bending to collect your clothes, he helps dress and resituate your garments till you look mostly like you did before you entered his office. “Did, um, did you ever…see that…spending your future with an old, divorcee who works as a professor and lives in a small apartment calling hot lines for company?”
Your professor laughs at his own expense and you try to match it, keeping the mood light.
“I never saw you that way. You were always so sweet to me and just wanted to talk. You…you made me feel safe even over the phone. I always thought you’d be disappointed if you ever saw me. Most men picture like Pamela Anderson when they call and I’m…”
“You’re what?”, he challenges. “Y/N, I’m disappointed but it has nothing to do with your looks or what just transpired. You’re gorgeous and sexy and so fucking talented. I meant what I said about your stories which now that I’m thinking about it makes sense.”
Again, he laughs and this time the one that flows from yours is genuine.
“I just…this is wrong. I could get fired and after my divorce I lost pretty much everything…”
“No, no. I understand. This…this was just a one-time thing and…we’ll never speak of it again.”
“Y-Yeah.”, Steve stutters, nodding as if to confirm it to himself as well. “I promise I won’t call anymore either so you can work without worry.”
“I mean…you can call sometimes…if you…you want to talk…”, you jest, quickly correcting yourself when his concerned eyes meet yours. “No, that’s…that’s stupid. I’m just kidding. All—Alright, Mr. Harrington, I’ll, um, see you next class?”
“Yeah.”, he whispers but as you grab your bag and try to power walk out of his classroom, the man quickly grabs your wrist and yanks you into his embrace, holding you tightly as he feels you begin to sob. “It’s ok, honey. Everything’s going to be ok. We’ll…we’ll figure this out.”
###################
Steve Masterlist
Tagging the usuals (as always if you'd like to be added let me know): @debkk16 @myherometalhead @micheledawn1975 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @utterlyinsanity @sophieliz
Summary: After spending some time with Steve without having determined what your relationship is, your ovulation period makes it difficult for you to go through it alone.
Warnings: Content 18+. If you don't like this kind of content, please don't read.
This is like a part three of this part two, but it can totally be read independently
English is not my first language, so please go easy on me.
Requests are open.
After Steve and I kissed, I thought things would get better.
I thought my head would stop spinning around his name.
I thought all that pent-up tension would dissipate because, from my perspective, I figured it
was just a lack of touch. But in truth, it was the lack of his touch in places where our
relationship, if you could even call it that, hadn't reached yet.
Steve and I were nothing. But at the same time, we were everything.
Hugs from behind.
Slow kisses.
Caresses on the cheek.
Running fingers through my hair while we watched a movie.
Desperate kisses in empty hallways.
But we had never slept together, never even hinted at anything more.
We had never rushed anything because, after all, we weren't anything.
I wasn't his girlfriend.
I wasn't his girl.
And yet, I was in this ridiculous position where I’d even considered using that damn fox-tail
butt plug.
— Fuck.
I gasped aloud in my room, dimly lit by the yellow glow of the lamp beside my bed.
I imagined his hands touching me.
I imagined how his kisses gave me goosebumps, and that thought made me spread my legs
further and arch my back, pushing against my own fingers, thinking of him, thinking of what
it would be like to have his cock buried deep inside me.
— Uhm, fuck, fuck, please, ah.
I whimpered and let out a soft moan, biting my lower lip, praying Audrey wasn't still home.
I had been dripping with desperation since the beginning of the week, all because of my
damn ovulation period.
In Los Angeles, the girls usually took care not to have sex during this time, but for me, it was
always tempting enough to imagine something like this, and at the moment, all I could think
about was how much I wanted Steve to be here, coming inside me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling my fingers slide where I wanted his tongue to be.
— Fuck, Steve…
His name came out as a whimper, muffled by the fist I’d pressed against my mouth.
I imagined his large hands, the ones that pulled me into slow hugs, squeezing my thighs
hard, spreading me open without delicacy. I imagined the contrast between the sweet
affection he showed me in front of others and the urgency I knew he kept hidden. My
treacherous mind painted the scene: him pushing me against the wall of that empty hallway,
not for a desperate kiss, but to hike up my skirt and bury his fingers in me until I lost my
breath.
My breathing was short, erratic. I arched my back, feeling the friction increase, focused on
the idea of his weight pinning me to the mattress. I wanted to feel the fullness, the raw
pressure, the way he would growl my name if he saw me in this state.
My back arched so much that I felt my muscles tense, the peak throbbing right there, at my
fingertips, while the image of his face, that half-crooked smile and intense gaze, clouded
whatever shred of rationality I had left.
— Uhm… please…
I whimpered into the pillow, muffling the sound so the silence of the house wouldn't be
broken by my total surrender.
I was losing control, sinking into a need that only his touch could truly satisfy. Ovulation was
the fuel, but Steve was the full-blown wildfire.
And that made me completely forget about the world around me, too focused on my
fantasies to hear the door knock or the voices approaching until a rap on my bedroom door
made me hold my breath.
— Y/n? Are you okay?
Dustin’s voice asked, and I wanted to groan in frustration.
— Yes! Yes, I’m fine.
I answered, breathless and quick, pulling my messy fingers from between my legs.
— Can I come in, sweetie?
And then I wanted to groan aloud with arousal at the sound of Steve’s voice reaching my
ears.
— No! No, I… uhm. What are you guys doing here? I’ll be right out.
The bed creaked under your sudden movement as you sat up, your heart hammering
against your ribs like a caged animal. The contrast between the humid heat between your
legs and the cool air of the room was an unbearable shock. You tried to pull the sheet to
cover the trail of your own lust, your hands trembling so much they barely obeyed.
On the other side of the door, Steve’s silence was heavy. He had his ear pressed against the
wood, his breath held. He had heard it. The whimper of his name, the urgency in that voice
he knew so well, but had never heard sound like that before. His face burned a deep red, a
mix of shock and the sudden awakening of something he’d been trying to keep under control
with polite hugs and slow kisses.
— Steve is taking us to the drive-in theater. We thought you’d like to come. Were you crying?
We heard you whimpering.
Dustin continued, and I widened my eyes, searching for my panties that I had thrown
somewhere at the foot of the bed and had fallen onto the floor.
— Fuck.
I muttered, leaning down and putting them on while stumbling a bit.
— I’m fine.
Steve, on the other hand, bit his lower lip and said to my brother:
— Go wait in the car with the rest. I probably did something.
Steve hadn’t done anything, and he knew it, but I hadn't thought that maybe they hadn’t
heard anything so he fell for his own lie.
The silence that followed Dustin’s departure was sharp, filled only by the sound of your own
uneven breathing and the insistent throbbing between your legs. You finished pulling up your
panties with trembling hands, feeling the fabric prickle against skin that was still sensitive
and damp.
On the other side of the door, the weight of Steve’s body against the wood seemed to radiate
heat. He didn’t move. He didn’t follow the boys. He stayed there, processing the sound of his
own name coming from your mouth with that note of desperation that no "hug from behind"
had ever reached.
When I opened the door, I gave him a forced smile, rubbed my eyes, and gave a fake yawn.
— I was almost dozing off.
He looked at me then with a grin that was far too knowing, and I widened my eyes slightly so
it wouldn't be too obvious and turned my back on him. I didn't let him into my room, which
was for the best, because honestly, my bed had a dark stain of lust on the sheets.
— Thought you might like to go to the movies; you said you’d never been.
Steve said with his hands in his pockets, and I still didn't look him in the eyes, pretending to
look for a pair of pants that weren't those wet pajama shorts.
— I do, I’m just looking for some pants so we can go.
Steve didn't move. He kept standing in the doorway, his body taking up too much space in
an environment that now felt small and impregnated with his energy. His gaze followed your
every move, and the intensity was so palpable you could feel your skin prickle where his
eyes landed.
He watched you pretend to look for pants, the side-smile even more pronounced, as if he
could see through your entire act. He knew. The way you avoided looking him in the eyes,
the speed of your movements, the breathing that hadn't returned to its normal rhythm…
Steve wasn't stupid, and his posture began to shift.
— Are you sure you're okay? You hate pants.
He said, taking a step into the room, and I laughed nervously, widening my eyes and
touching nothing but everything at the same time.
— What? That doesn't even… that doesn't make any sense.
I said, and then he touched my shoulder with one hand and moved my hair from my neck
with the other, bringing his fingers to the nape of my neck, which genuinely forced a
shameful moan from me, compelling my head to tilt to the side. The sensation was so
overwhelming, so electric. Steve let out a low laugh, a husky sound that seemed to vibrate
directly against my skin. He didn't let go of my neck. He took a step forward, closing
whatever space still existed between us, and I felt the weight of his body against my back,
firm and undeniable.
— You were dozing off? While moaning my name?
He asked into my earlobe, and I whimpered, pushing my body against his.
— Steve.
I closed my eyes, feeling his hands on me, and I could feel myself dripping for him all over
again.
— Do you want me?
Steve asked, and I looked at him over my shoulder, nodding.
— You should have told me.
— I didn't think we were anything serious enough for that.
I said softly, and turned to face him.
— I just haven't crossed that line yet because I was being respectful, babe.
He said, and I gasped, closing my eyes.
— The kids are waiting in the car. We need to go.
I said, and Steve bit his lower lip.
— Yeah, but I’ve got you worked up, I’m not going to leave you frustrated for the rest of the
night.
He said, and his hands moved down my body.
— Do you want me to do something, babe?
Steve asked, and I couldn't form a complete sentence, only nodding in agreement.
— Yes, yes… but…
— I’ll be quick. Spread your legs for me, darling.
He said, picking me up and placing me on my desk, and I immediately spread my legs for
him while Steve knelt in front of me.
The cold metal of the desk against my bare skin made me gasp, but Steve's hands on my
thighs were like hot iron, pinning me exactly where he wanted. He knelt between my legs
with possessive naturalness, and when his eyes rose to meet mine for a second under the
yellow lamp light, every shred of sanity I was still trying to keep simply evaporated.
— You’re shaking, baby.
He whispered, and his voice was a low growl, vibrating in the dense air of the room.
— All this time and it was my name you were calling in the dark?
I couldn't answer. My throat locked when he leaned in, his mouth finding my center with an
urgency that had none of the delicacy of the kisses we shared in the hallways. It was a total
sensory attack. His tongue was firm, tracing the path I had tried to explore myself minutes
before, but with an authority that only he possessed.
My hands dug into his shoulders, my fingers pulling at the fabric of his jacket while I arched
my back, my head falling back. The pleasure was so dense it felt like it was suffocating me.
— Steve… please, I…
I tried to articulate, but the sound died in a whimper when he used
his thumbs to open me even further, leaving me totally vulnerable under his gaze.
— Shh… let me take care of this…
He murmured against my skin, and his hot breath sent electric shocks through my whole
body.
He increased the pace. The pressure of his mouth and the rhythmic suction took me to the
edge in a matter of seconds.
— Tell me if you don't like it.
He was efficient, rough, and terrifyingly intimate.
— Fuck, fuck, uhm Steve.
I groaned and covered my mouth with my hand, not wanting the kids to hear from the car.
When the peak finally hit me, it was as if the ground had vanished. My fingers locked into his
hair, pulling hard while I tried to muffle my moans against my own shoulder, feeling my entire
body spasm under his touch.
Steve waited until the last tremor passed before pulling away slowly. He stood up, cleaning
the trace of me that shimmered on his lips with the back of his hand. The half-smile he gave
me was dark and satisfied.
— Better now?
He asked, his voice soft but loaded with a dangerous promise.
He held out his hand to help me down from the desk, his fingers caressing my wrist while I
tried to regain my balance and dignity, my legs still shaky.
— You didn't have to do that.
I said with flushed cheeks while I put my panties back on.
I put on a random pair of jeans, feeling the friction of the fabric against my newly awakened
sensitivity. Every step I took toward the door was a reminder of what had just happened on
that desk.
— I know, but I wanted to. I really wanted to.
When we left the room, Steve walked past me in the hallway and wrapped his arm around
my shoulders.
— Let's go, guys!
Dustin shouted from the porch, impatient.
— The movie starts in twenty minutes and I’m not missing the trailers!
We went down the stairs, and as we crossed the door, I found the rest of the group already
piled into Steve's car. I climbed into the backseat, feeling Steve's gaze through the rearview
mirror as he started the engine.
— Hey guys, sorry for the wait. I was a mess.
I said, smiling embarrassedly, and Steve let out a nasal laugh.
— Good thing you didn't go in there, it looked like a jungle.
— Hey!
I leaned over and hit his shoulder, laughing right after.
The night was just beginning.
An hour later, the movie had already started. Steve and I were relaxing in the front seat while
the kids sat on blankets that Steve had brought and placed in front of the car.
The light from the projector illuminated the inside of the car in intermittent flashes, creating
shadows that danced across the dashboard. The movie was some loud action flick, which
served as the perfect cover for what was happening inside the car.
I was sitting in the passenger seat with my legs tucked in, trying to maintain a neutral
posture, but it was impossible. Steve was relaxed at the wheel, with his arm stretched across
the back of my seat, his fingers brushing the nape of my neck casually from time to time.
The touch, light and almost imperceptible, was a cruel contrast to the intensity of what had happened in my room.
— You know… I think I want you to be my girlfriend. The right way.
He said suddenly and I looked at him.
— You think so?
— I’m sure of it. But I hate saying this now when I don't have flowers to give you.
I gave a half-smile, mocking his decency a bit after what he’d done to me in the room, and
looked at the screen in front of us, saying:
— Wait for the flowers then, Harrington. I can wait for them.
— No, I can't.
He shrugged, but his hand slid from the seat back to mine. His fingers found mine naturally,
interlacing slowly, as if that were already an old habit.
— I’ve already waited quite a long time pretending we were just… this here.
He made a vague gesture between us both.
— Stolen kisses, long hugs, you stealing my jackets and pretending it’s not because you like
me.
I let out a low laugh.
Here is the English translation, maintaining your requested dialogue formatting:
— I do not steal your jackets.
He turned his face toward me with an offended expression.
— Yes, you do.
Then he smiled.
— And you look very pretty in them, by the way. Which only makes the situation worse.
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks and looked away toward the giant cinema screen. In front of the car, Dustin and the others were completely focused on the movie, excitedly commenting on some scene. Steve squeezed my hand a little tighter.
— I know I don’t have flowers right now.
He continued
— And I know there’s probably a more… proper way to do this.
He took a deep breath.
— But I don’t want to wait until tomorrow or until the next perfect moment. Because the truth is, I already know the answer I want.
I turned my face back to him.
— And what is it?
His smile returned, softer this time.
— That you are my girl.
My heart gave a little leap in my chest.
— I’m already your girl, you dork.
— Do you want to be my girl?
— I want to be your girl.
The smile that bloomed on Steve's face was unlike any other I had ever seen.
— Finally.
He murmured, letting out a heavy sigh as if he had been carrying a piano on his back for months. He pulled my hand, which was still intertwined with his, and planted a long kiss on my
knuckles. The contrast of his stubble grazing my skin with the sweetness of the gesture
made me completely forget that Dustin was just a few meters away, likely arguing about the
scientific logic of some sci-fi movie.
— So, it’s official.
He continued, without letting go of my hand, now resting it on his thigh as he turned back to
look at the screen, though he wasn’t seeing anything that was playing there.
— No more "empty hallways" as the only option.
— Does this mean I’m getting flowers tomorrow?
I teased, feeling a lightness I hadn’t felt in weeks. The tension from the ovulation was still
there, a constant throbbing, but now there was a peace that balanced it out.
— You’ll get an entire garden if you want, my angel.
He countered, and I leaned in to kiss his lips until we heard an "ew, get a room" from the kids.
— Get your hands off my sister, Steve!
Dustin shouted, and Steve stuck his head out the window.
— Can’t, she’s officially my girl, Henderson.
After the movie ended, we took the kids home, and when Steve parked in front of my house, I looked at him and bit my lower lip, a bit shy.
— Do you want to come in? Audrey is spending the night out.
Without much delay, Steve and I became a tangle, and when we crossed the door and the
living room hallway to my room, we threw ourselves onto my bed, already ripping each
other's clothes off. There was no more hesitation. The "respect" he preached so much had been left in the car
seat, replaced by a possessiveness that made my blood boil. When we fell onto the bed, the weight of his body over mine was the most sinful relief I had ever felt.
— You have no idea.
He growled against my neck, his large hands sliding down my ribs until they found the waistband of my jeans.
— How many times I died a little inside trying not to do exactly this.
— I need you to fuck me, Steve.
I whimpered, already spreading my legs for him.
He let out a low laugh, charged with a dark confidence, and dived in to find my mouth in a
kiss that had nothing sweet about it. It was a claim. I felt his hands descend, ridding me of
the rest of my clothes with an efficiency that made me let out a low moan. When his skin
finally met mine without barriers, the thermal shock was almost unbearable.
Steve stopped for a second, his arms supporting his body above me, watching how I looked
under him in that dim light. He slid a hand down my thigh, squeezing with enough force to
leave marks, climbing until he found the place he already knew so well.
— My girl.
He stated, his voice vibrating in my chest.
— Mine.
My nails dug hard into his broad shoulders, pulling him down, wanting to fuse our bodies
once and for all. Steve let out a low growl, that baritone voice vibrating right against my
sensitive skin, while he got rid of his own underwear with one hand, never taking his eyes off mine. He grabbed his cock and brushed it against my wet pussy, preparing me for him.
Steve didn’t wait for an answer. Steve held my wrists against the mattress, above my head,
and pushed himself inside me in a single, rough, and decisive motion.
— Fuck!
The moan escaped my throat, sharp and desperate.
The fullness was absolute. It was bigger, hotter, and more intense than any fantasy I had that afternoon. My eyes rolled back as I felt every nerve in my body short-circuit. He stopped for a second, the muscles in his arms bulging as he held himself over me, just watching my face twist in pure pleasure.
— Look at me.
He ordered, and when I obeyed, I saw the pure desire burning in those brown eyes.
— I love you.
— Ah, love, me too.
I whimpered, and he began to move. At first, they were slow, deep thrusts, calculated to make me beg, but the pace accelerated in seconds. The sound of our skin colliding was a
wet, constant slap, a hypnotic rhythm that made me lose track of where I ended and where he began.
I freed my wrists from his grip and looped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a hungry kiss, our tongues battling while his hips slammed against mine with a force that made
the bed rattle against the wall. I was completely at his mercy, feeling the electric friction increase with every thrust, the peak throbbing right there, at the tip of that raw pressure. With every thrust, the wet sound of our union filled the room, mixing with my uncontrolled
moans. I felt every inch of him invading me, stretching my walls and hitting places that made my vision darken. Steve wasn't being gentle; he was using all the weight of his body to crush me against the mattress, his hands moving from my wrists to squeeze my waist with a
possessive force.
— You’re so tight, Y/n…
He growled against the curve of my neck, his hot breath sending
violent shivers through me.
— Fuck, I’m going to lose control.
I couldn’t answer, only arching my back, seeking more of that raw contact. My legs tangled around his waist, pulling him so he would go even deeper. I felt the electric friction increasing, an unbearable pressure growing in my lower belly.
Steve changed the rhythm, making the thrusts fast and short, focused only on taking me to
the edge. The impact of his hips against mine was constant, a savage rhythm that made my
head shake against the pillow.
— Steve… Steve, I…
I tried to say, but my voice broke into a whimper when he hit my
exact spot.
— Go on, babe… come for me.
He hissed, his voice loaded with a dark urgency.
He released one of his hands from my waist and went down to our meeting point, his thumb pressing my clitoris with the same rhythmic force as his thrusts. It was the killing blow. The
world exploded in color and heat. My vaginal muscles contracted around him in frantic waves, trapping him inside me while I screamed his name, my entire body trembling in an orgasm that seemed to have no end.
Feeling my grip, Steve let out a low roar, the veins in his neck bulging. He gave three more
violent, deep thrusts before going rigid, his eyes rolling back as he came deep inside me. I felt his hot jet flooding me, a final fullness that made me sob with relief and pleasure.
He collapsed onto me, his chest rising and falling in a struggle for air, the sweat sticking us to each other. The silence that followed was filled only by our heavy breathing. Steve buried his face in my hair, leaving a wet, lingering kiss on my temple.
— I’ve never…
He began, his voice failing and hoarse.
— Never felt anything like this.
I smiled, still feeling the residual tremors, and pulled him closer, wanting that moment to last
forever. Ovulation might have been the trigger, but what happened there went far beyond biology.
It’s 3am when you come home with your new baby girl, so unbelievably tiny pressed to your chest, car seat and gifts given by your parents held by your husband who holds the doors open for you quietly.
18 hours of labour, pushing, bleeding and recovering, and you’re home just like that. Only 8 hours of hospital rest, and suddenly you have a baby living in your house. Nine months were never enough to prepare you for this, even if the room was painted, the monitor set up, her clothes drawers full, diaper dispenser packing.
The house was dark and quiet, tiny little new born sound asleep on your shoulder, legs tucked upward as you held her by her little butt, other hand holding her hatted head to you.
“Alright, mommy, let’s get her in her crib,” Steve whispered, putting down the car seat you opted out of taking her home in, unable to pull her away from your chest.
Her crib was low, the same level as your bed, and right next to it too. Her bedroom probably wouldn’t be used for a while.
“We should sleep while she’s still sleeping.”
You nodded, lowering the baby into her crib, careful not to stir her too much.
She’s almost too tiny to be real, soft dark hair half fluffing and half sticking to her head under her hat, shielding her for the November chill.
“So, she’s a real life baby,” you spoke quietly, the only thought you were able to form yet. A real human you’re now responsible for, right here in front of you.
Your husband let out a small huff of a chuckle, looking right down at your baby from beside you.
“Yeah. A real life baby,” he repeated, his hand rubbing your lower back through your button up PJ shirt you’d worn in the hospital, skin still hot and tacky underneath. “You did so well, mommy.”
He kissed your cheek with a long and quiet smooch, moving to stroke your hair. The only thing that beat the feeling of being a father was his wife being a mother…
“Thank you…”
No, you’re not looking forward to changing your own pads between diapers. Yes, you’re well aware that you’ll be feeding her every couple of hours, changing her and only sleeping in between. But God, were you already head over heels for the new light in your home, your small baby girl that had Steve’s heart lips, and clearly his eyebrows.
“No. Thank you… this is all I’ve ever wanted.”
A/N: Ah! I’ve just been thinking about domestic!Steve and had to jot something really short down.
Also I’m trying to write more but i just find it really hard to write what’s going on in my head. I usually love writing but it’s not happening right now for some reason, but we’ll see!
ohhh could i please request super soldiers little angels au where reader is in babyspace while peter is regressed maybe to around 4 or 5 so steve & bucky teach him how to take care of reader and be a good big brother🥺💕
the super soldiers little angels au masterlist
Steve is bouncing you around in the kitchen, are already sitting at the table and eating their breakfast. Whenever he tries to set you down you would start to whine or fuss instantly, demanding to be held again.
Steve and Bucky exchange glances at that and both just know you are in a smaller headspace today, given your current behavior.
Peter stops shoveling pancakes in his mouth to see how you are sucking mindlessly on your paci, your eyes dropping close here and there as your head rests on Steve’s shoulder.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, buddy?" Bucky glances up from reading through the newspaper to give him his full attention.
"Is bunny otay?" he asks in a whisper, pointing at you and Steve.
"Bunny is in babyspace today." He answers. "You know what that means?" He asks him and Peter nods his head quickly with a smile.
"She baby!"
"Correct, she's feeling a lot smaller than usual and that means you have to be more careful with her today. Dada and I are gonna show you how to take care of her, okay?" he explains and takes you from Steve's arms when the blonde holds you out to him, moving you so you're facing Peter.
You babble happily and make grabby hands for your Petie. As your daddies are talking with each other, Peter makes it his mission to entertain you, doing funny faces or letting you play with his hands.
"We have to go grocery shopping soon." Steve reminds his husband, closing the fridge with a sigh. "Oh, and I-"
Both caregivers attention gets drawn to you and Peter when they hear him yelp, seeing you pulling on his hair slightly.
"Ow, ow, ow! daddy help!" He winces and Bucky smoothly de-tangles your hand from the poor boys hair.
"No pulling, Doll." He chides you softly, helping you flat your hand and pat Peter's head gently a few times. "There, that’s my girl."
"Can we go pway now?" He asks a little impatient, his breakfast already finished by now.
"Sure, buddy, but remember to be gentle with her."
He nods and gets up from his chair to easily pick you up from Bucky's lap thanks to his super-strength, carrying you to your shared playroom.
Throughout the day, Peter is very determined to look after you, carrying you everywhere, talking with you even though he sometimes doesn't understand your babbling.
Sometime around lunch you are both watching Inside Out in the living room, cuddling on the couch. You are laying between Peter's legs with your back against his chest while he has his arms wrapped around you snugly.
Steve and Bucky have just finished preparing a snack for you both, small cut sandwiches with some fruits for Peter and for you a bottle since you're too little for solid food today.
They enter the living room, completely in awe at the sight of you both snuggling peacefully.
"Time for lunch." Steve announces in a quiet voice, not wanting to disrupt the current atmosphere as he and Bucky approach.
Peter perks up at that, smiling. "Can I feed bunny?"
"If you don't forget to eat yourself, you can hold the bottle for her." Bucky smiles back, handing him the bottle as Steve places Peter's plate on the armrest beside him.
Peter adjusts you against him, pulling your paci out of your mouth and quickly puts the rubber of the bottle between your lips before you can protest. Steve corrects the way he holds the bottle for you, raising the boy's hand a bit so the bottle is tilted upwards. As soon as you begin to suckle he starts eating as well albeit a little clumsy, focusing back on the tv.
Could you write something where there’s an emergency and stucky have to go help and reader is being so brave in the safe room? Or something else.. I trust you💗💗
Over a year later....I'm sorry for the delay. Please believe me it eats at me. Hope you're still around for this, and I love you <3
Take One Down
Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x Little!F!Reader, featuring big Peter
Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, language, pet names, attack on the Tower during the night, Bucky is armed, slight alcohol reference, angsty/scared baby, a few tears, safe room. Happy Ending- always :)
A/N- also Happy Birthday to me :D
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.
The first thing you became aware of was that Papa was breathing hard. And you were in his arms.
Then you realized you weren't in bed, and you were moving. Fast.
"Papa?" you whimpered sleepily, not being awake enough to understand what was happening.
"Shh, shh, it's okay baby, you're okay," Papa said instantly, pressing a quick kiss in your hair. Despite his soothing words, he didn't slow his pace at all.
You forced your heavy eyelids to open, and then almost immediately shut them again as the flashing red lights in the hallway were too bright. You were still in your pajamas, but you definitely weren't at home. Steve could feel that you were waking up and becoming more alert, but he couldn't stop. He had to get you to safety.
"Where's Daddy?" you asked, your voice trembling as you started to realize something was wrong. "Daddy okay?"
"Right here, Trouble," came Daddy's voice from farther away. You tried to twist in Papa's arms to see where Daddy was, but Papa's iron grip on you didn't leave much purchase.
"It's okay, princess, you're safe, but I need you to be a good girl and be quiet for us right now, okay?" Steve said, deliberately keeping his voice calm and low even through the exertion of running.
"'Kay," you said as quietly as you could, holding on to Papa tightly, shutting your eyes tightly, and trying to be brave. Steve kissed your hair again and kept running.
Within 30 seconds, you felt Steve stop. You opened your eyes and looked around. It took you a second, but you recognized this place. You'd been here before, back when you very first came to live with Steve and Bucky. You were in the panic room.
The reinforced steel walls were made slightly less intimidating by the giant sofa that could convert into a bed, the soft rug that nearly covered every inch of floor, and the overwhelming amount of toys and stuffed animals in baskets and boxes all around the edge of one wall. You hadn't been here in a while, but you could never forget this place.
Your eyes darted all around, trying to get some answers or understanding as to what happened, but before it came to you, Steve set you down carefully on your feet and took you gently by the shoulders. You heard Bucky shut and lock the door, but before you could turn to look Steve gently guided your face back towards his.
"Katie-Cat, I need you to listen to me, okay?" Steve said, looking you very seriously and directly in the eye. "Someone is in the Tower. Someone who's not supposed to be here. We don't know how they got in, but right now, we need to keep you safe so we can go get them out. Do you understand?"
"I- yes, Papa," you said shakily. You swallowed your nerves down and tried to be brave.
"Good girl," Steve said, as a fierce wave of protectiveness rushed through him. "Peter is on his way, and he's going to stay in here with you and keep you safe while Daddy and I go get the person out. Okay?"
"Petey coming?"
"Yes."
"He don't need to fight?"
"Right now, he needs to keep you safe, that's his most important job."
"But...who gonna keep him safe?"
"He's Big Peter right now, munchkin- he's going to be okay. Can you be a good girl and listen to what Peter says and do what he tells you to?"
"Um- yeah. Papa-"
"Good girl. You remember the rules of the safe room?"
"Papa..."
"The rules, Katie-Cat."
"Don't leave the room unless you, Daddy, or Aunt Nat comes to get me, don't open the door for nobody, and....and be good."
"That's my girl," Steve said, his heart both proud and shattered that you had to know these things.
"Papa?" you tried again.
"Yes?"
"You gonna come back, right? You and Daddy?" you asked in a small voice. Steve pulled you into his chest immediately in the biggest bear hug.
"Yes, baby," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Daddy and I will always come back for you. Always."
Just then, you felt another pair of arms wrap around you two. "Try and keep us away, Trouble," Daddy added in a light, joking tone, but even you could feel the tension underneath it. "Here, I brought you someone who can help you too." Bucky reached behind him and pulled Jellybean out of his back pocket, where he had unceremoniously stuffed her as he and Steve were racing to get you out of the apartment.
You gasped sharply, and pulled your beloved bunny in so tightly to your face that her little button nose left a slight imprint on your cheek. "Tank you Daddy," you said, trying hard not to cry. "AND tank you Papa for carryin' me," you added quickly, not wanting him to feel left out. Both men responded by hugging you tighter.
Just then, the panic room door clicked, announcing that someone else was coming in. Bucky immediately dropped his arms and spun so you and Steve were behind him, his gun appearing in his hand as if by magic. However, once he saw that it was Tony and Peter, he instantly lowered the gun and ran to bolt the door back behind them.
"Pete, you sure you're good?" Tony asked immediately the second the door was shut.
"I'm good Dad, I swear," Peter said. You looked at him wide-eyed- it had been a while since you had heard his big voice.
"Okay. Only if you're sure," Tony pressed.
"I'm sure. I wouldn't take a chance if I wasn't."
"Atta boy."
Tony turned towards the three of you to find Steve smiling at him. "That's good enough for me," Steve said kindly to Peter. "But if there's any trouble at all, and I mean anything, you radio us. Copy?"
"Copy," Peter nodded quickly. "I'll link with your comms now," he said, before pulling out the large, black case from underneath the sleeper bed sofa. He quickly opened the case and got to work on a radio comm.
You watched him carefully. He was so...different and serious when he was Big- not the silly, carefree bestie you immediately recognized- so it was always surprising to you when you saw it. Of course, YOUR definition of 'serious' was much, much different than Tony's or Steve's or Bucky's, but that didn't matter now, as you watched Peter's fingers fly over the machinery.
"Okay, we should be linked," he said into the comm. All three men immediately nodded, confirming that they could hear him in their earpieces. Steve and Bucky spun back to you.
"Do what Peter says. We'll be back as soon as we can," Daddy said gruffly, taking your face in his hands and pressing a long kiss to your forehead. "We love you so much. Be good, got it?"
"Got it," you said, trying to match his gruff tone to show him you could be serious too. That made the ghost of a smile cross his lips, and as Steve kissed you too, it stayed. Tony even came over, quickly, giving you what he hoped was a carefree grin.
"Alright, have fun, stay safe. Don't tap the keg unless you really need to," he said, tapping your nose and grinning when you looked confused and Steve tutted loudly. Bucky was the last one out the door, and before he left, he turned to Peter.
"You remember the code word?" he asked the young man brusquely. Peter nodded, but due to the door being opened, didn't say it. "Good job," Bucky said with that faint grin again, closing and locking the door behind him.
It was deathly silent in the room. You swallowed hard, gripping Jellybean tightly, almost afraid to move, even though you knew you were in the safest spot imaginable (outside of your daddies' arms). Peter immediately noticed your distress.
"Hey Katie, hey Little One," he said softly, holding out his arms to you. "You wanna come here?"
You nodded, then slowly walked towards him. You cautiously stepped into his arms. Once he folded them around you, you inhaled. His scent never changed, no matter if he was big or small, and you knew this was your Petey, no matter how he was feeling right now. You threw your arms around him and hugged him back tightly, and felt him give a soft chuckle. "It's okay, you're okay. I'm gonna keep you safe- you know that, right?"
You pulled back a bit, nodding. "Tank you, Petey. I mean...Peter."
Peter smiled. "Ah, that's okay. You can call me Petey right now if you want to."
"I can?"
"Sure you can."
"Otay Petey," you said, suddenly feeling a little better upon hearing that. "What's happenin' in da Tower?"
"What did Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky tell you?" Peter asked carefully.
"Um, dat someone got in dat wasn't a'sposed to be in?"
"That's right. And they'll get 'em out, so you don't have to worry about them anymore, okay?"
"Um....okay," you said, wanting to trust Peter with your whole heart, but still uncertain due to the nature of the circumstance. Peter saw pretty quickly that he would need to distract you.
"Hey, you wanna sit on the couch and read some stories while we wait?" He trotted over to the box containing tons of books and started pawing through them. "You can pick out whichever stories you want. Okay?"
Curiosity peaked, you trotted over to look. You recognized The Gruffalo and Frozen, pointing at them. "I like those!" you said excitedly, and Peter snatched them up.
"Let's get to reading!" he said. "Race you to the couch!"
Since it was only a couple feet away, it wasn't much of a race, but it was still fun. It was always fun when you got to run. You both jumped onto the couch enthusiastically, and Peter opened up the first book and began to read. You inched closer and closer to him as he continued, eventually snuggling into his side, your thumb in your mouth and Jellybean in the crook of your arm.
He finished off Frozen in about ten minutes, then turned to you. "Alright, Katie, you ready for...THE GRUFFALO??" he said in a mock scary voice that made you laugh. But once you stopped laughing at his silliness, you had another question in mind.
"Petey, what's a keg?" you asked innocently.
Poor Peter nearly broke his neck doing a double take. "Wh-what?" he asked, not sure of what he heard. When he was in little space with you, your random questions and changes of subject made perfect sense to him, but when he was bigger it was hard to keep up sometimes.
"Unca Tony said don't tap da keg unless we needed to. What's a keg?"
"It's nothing....he was just being silly. Let's read."
"Is a weapon?"
"No...it's....hey, look, books. Let's read."
"But what IS it?"
"Ahhhh...it's....you know....it's...hey, you wanna sing a song?" Peter said, loudly and excitedly, hoping the non-sequitur would distract you.
It worked. "What kind of song?" you asked, intrigued.
"Umm..." Peter thought quickly, trying to get your mind off of what a keg was. He felt a flicker of compassion for Uncle Steve whenever his Dad did this to you, but mostly he was trying to come up with a song. "Hey, do you know Ninety Nine Bottles of...." he said suddenly, his brain both working and failing him miserably all at the same time.
"Bottles of what?" you asked, now completely invested. Peter broke out in a cold sweat. He couldn't teach you a song about beer, for goodness' sake.
"Did I say bottles? That was silly. I meant...boxes. Yeah, boxes!...of... juice! That was it! Ninety Nine boxes of juice on the wall! Do you know that song?" he improvised wildly. You tilted your head, trying to think, but then shook it.
"How's it go?"
Peter cleared his throat awkwardly. He wasn't much of a singer, but he knew he was going to have to give it a go if he had any hope of distracting you from asking about kegs. Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky would rip his head off if he told you, and he knew that you were stubborn enough to keep asking. But man...he REALLY didn't want to sing and embarrass himself in front of you....
Just then, you both heard a loud crash coming from somewhere below. It was loud enough that it made you both jump, even though the room didn't even shudder. Peter watched as your face turned pale and you gripped your bunny tighter. You pinched your lips together and breathed slowly. He knew exactly what you were doing. You were trying to calm down and being as brave as you could be. His heart melted for you.
And he found his courage in that.
"So...the song," he said, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to regain your attention and hopefully calm you a bit. "It goes..." he coughed again, took a deep breath, and went for it. "Ninety nine boxes of juice on the wall....ninety nine boxes of juice....you take one down and pass it around...ninety eight boxes of juice on the wall!"
You blinked at him, wide-eyed, and waited for the rest. He looked back at you hopefully to see how this was going down.
"Short song," you said, tilting your head, confused. Peter rolled his eyes and chuckled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A short time later, Steve and Bucky were finishing sweeping their own floor and apartment. "Clear," Steve said definitively into the comm. "Natasha, Tony, Thor, what's your status?"
When everyone came through confirming the all-clear, Fury came through the line. "Rogers, Barnes, Stark- go get 'em." It was all the permission they needed.
Steve got their first, but instead of punching the code in immediately, he stopped and stared at the door. "Steve?" Bucky asked in a tense voice, instantly on alert. To his immense surprise, Steve turned to him, a look of astonished humor on his face.
"Buck, listen," he whispered. Bucky strained his ears...and then couldn't believe what he was hearing. The room was sound proofed, but hey- they were super soldiers.
"Twenty-three boxes of juice on the wall, twenty-three boxes of juuuuuicceeeee...."
Bucky punched in the code. The second before he touched the keypad though, he heard Peter's voice cut off suddenly, and then within .5 seconds, your voice cut off too. The button panel lit up green and the door unbolted. Bucky threw the door open, Steve right behind him.
Peter was standing in the middle of the room, his suit in the last phase of forming around him, in his classic Spiderman pose. Bucky raised his hands immediately.
"Password?" Peter asked firmly.
"Trouble," Bucky replied immediately. Peter instantly relaxed and stood up straight, his suit disappearing, knowing for sure this was Bucky. "Good job Peter," Bucky said gratefully, even as he and Steve were rushing to the secret panel they knew you were hiding in. The second they slid the door back, you threw yourself into their waiting arms.
Bucky held you so tight you could feel his every breath, and Steve kept kissing your hair and murmuring what a good girl you were. Eventually, you looked over and saw Tony and Peter in an embrace as well, Tony clapping his young charge on the back proudly.
"Are you okay, angel?" Steve asked you, his eyes lovingly scanning your face. You nodded happily.
"Yeah, Papa! We good! Did you get the bad guys?"
"We sure did."
"YAY!! Who was dey? How did dey get in? What did-"
"Okay, angel, that's too many questions for a little girl right now," Steve said gently, nuzzling your nose with his. "We're safe and it's time to go home. Can we go say goodbye and thank you to Peter?"
You nodded again, suddenly very sleepy from all the receding adrenaline. Bucky carried you over to Tony and Peter.
"She was so good and brave, Dad," Peter was saying enthusiastically to Tony. "She picked out books and sang and we jumped on the couch and everything!"
"You did so good, buddy, I couldn't be more proud of you," Tony said, his seams bursting. He grinned at you as you approached. "Hey, thanks for taking it easy on the kid, little one."
"Petey was da best!! He taught me a new song. Papa, you're gonna love it!"
Steve smirked. "I'm sure I will, baby. Can you say thank you please?"
You wiggled a bit, wanting Bucky to let you down, but you gave up pretty quickly. After being separated from you during a stressful situation, Bucky didn't like to put you down for anything. You leaned forward towards Peter, however, and he accommodated you. You gave your big bestie the biggest hug you possibly could.
"Tank you for taking care of me, Petey," you said lovingly. He squeezed you back.
"Thank you for being so good, Katie!" he responded. Tony clapped a hand on his shoulder. He could hear it in Peter's voice- he was getting close to becoming small again, and he wanted to get his brave boy home. You all said your goodbyes and headed home.
You were cuddled between your daddies and asleep again before you knew it, secure in the knowledge that you were safe and loved by the best people in the galaxy.
missing daddy steve and baby bucky Bad. how are they🥺
oh they're so good, babe...🥹❤️
Bucky is nearly halfway into the book he started that morning, just a few hours ago, when he recognizes his phone ringing from its place on the coffee table.
He nearly misses the call he’s so engrossed in his newly acquired fantasy romance.
“Hi,” he answers without much thought when he sees that Steve is the one calling him. It must be his lunch break; Steve never fails to call him halfway through his day.
“Hi, honey,” Steve purrs into his ear. “You readin’? You let that phone ring for a long time.”
Bucky hums, closing his book in his lap, but not before using his bookmark to mark his page.
“Mhmm, it’s really good so far. I’m glad I finally have time to actually sit down and read.”
“Me too. You deserve it.”
The tone in Steve’s voice has something stirring in Bucky’s chest, something warm and all too familiar. It’s husky yet short and stern.
It’s his Daddy voice.
Bucky doesn’t have to wait for him to get right to the point.
“Hey, listen. I wanna take you out tonight. It’s Thursday, I miss you. I want to drink and let loose.”
Oh.
“I wanna fuckin’…bury myself inside of you until you’re in tears and you gotta shove me away.”
Oh.
Steve lets out a little growl at the end of his sentence, a bit of a grumbly and impatient noise. Bucky almost spreads his legs upon instinct at hearing such a casual yet dominant noise.
“Jesus…” Bucky whispers, a noise akin to a giggle bubbling up out of his mouth at Steve’s brashness. “Yeah, uh…yeah alright.”
Something about Steve failing to inquire about Bucky’s surprise, about his reaction to how direct he is with his desire for Bucky, makes him feel lightheaded.
“I want you to wear something nice for me,” Steve tells him, Bucky’s dizziness only growing at the sound of people in the background, somewhere near Steve as he says these words. “Wear some panties, put on a soft sweater. Get pretty for me.”
Bucky closes his eyes before answering, his eyelids growing heavy.
“Yeah, I…okay. I can do that.”
“Those light blue ones,” Steve husks out into his ear. “The ones with the little rose on the front, the ones that are sheer all around.”
Bucky’s favorite.
Daddy’s favorite.
That slow pull of arousal in his belly, familiar and welcome, forces his head to fall slowly onto the back of the couch he sits on. His breaths quickly become shaky at best, chest rising and falling with shallow moments as he tries to remain as calm and present as possible.
“Okay,” is all he can manage. The thought of wearing a pair of his panties under his jeans and a comforting sweater, his Daddy’s eyes and his hands on him, touching him and loving him for anyone to see, nearly forces a whine from him.
“Are you hard?”
Bucky gasps, a soft and gentle noise.
“Steve…”
Steve exhales so heavily into Bucky’s ear he thinks it’s a groan at first. Either way, it adds to the pull in Bucky’s balls.
“Are you hard?”
His tone is insistent, short. It sounds as if he’s busy with work while on the phone with Bucky, as if he has other things to be doing before he is able to leave and make it home to Bucky. Daddy being busy, as if Bucky is a bit of a bother to be calling, has Bucky’s tummy shamefully swooping once more.
“Yes,” he whispers, his hips unable to stop themselves from pulsing forward, into the air and into nothing. “Yes.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you. Finally have time to rest and recuperate during your break, take care of yourself and be soft with yourself. Woke up late, reading in what is surely my shirt. Glowing. About to eat the lunch I’m having delivered to you. Want you soft. Want you hard. God, I want you.”
Bucky doesn’t stop himself from whining then, from giving into the noise that’s been quickly building in his chest. He denies himself the chance to give into his pleasure in full, to palm at his erection over his sweatpants, and instead chooses to embrace it, to feel it. It warms his chest, his stomach, his thighs, spreading throughout his body in waves, muddying up his brain. The ache in his dick is pleasant, yummy.
Bucky says the one thing he can think to say in response to such feelings and words–
“I love you.”
Steve growls this time as well, bites out a curse into Bucky’s ear.
“Fuck, I love you too. I love you so much, sugar.”
Bucky whimpers again. He can’t help it. And a few seconds pass, maybe ten, and then Steve is telling him he’s coming home.
“What?”
“Yeah, I…I’m comin’ home. We'll still go out later. I just...I’ll figure it out. I’ll say I’m goin’ to lunch, which…I am. You get ready, Buck– I’m comin’ home to eat you alive.”
It’s Bucky’s turn to growl, his noise sounding more like a giggle. The sudden declaration sends him to his feet and moving towards their bedroom, book in tow.
“Be quick, Daddy,” he decides to tease, voice more breathless than he’d like. “I don’t know how long I’ll last.”
With another bitten-off curse, Steve hangs up the phone, leaving Bucky to undress and crawl into bed, his hum turning to a moan once his hips press into the bed sheets. He glances at the time before reaching for his book once more.
