Steve And Bucky React To Y/n Fainting In Their Arms Cause Of A Fever

Steve and bucky react to y/n fainting in their arms cause of a fever

Steve: This man would be concerned he would come back from a mission and find you in the kitchen looking for some food he would walk over to you and kiss your forehead which is how and when he finds out about your fever he then asks you how you feel in which this case you don’t have enough time to answer him before you pass out he catches you and immediately takes you to the bed,gets a wet wash cloth and puts it on your forehead he then goes and fixes you some food aka soup he isn’t the best cook when under stress then he keeps the soup heated up for when you wake up. When you do wake up he will check your temperature every hour on the hour,make you take disgusting medicine,fix you food basically won’t let you out of bed 

Bucky: He would be kind of like steve he would come back from a mission and go to kiss you then your forehead he would find you trying to clean the living room which then after he kisses your forehead and is about to question your temperature you pass out,he catches you and puts you on the couch then calls either steve or sam in a panic and they tell him to check your temperature with a thermometer which he does then they tell him it’s ok and puts a wet wash cloth on your forehead wouldn’t leave your side until you woke up would just sit/stand there looking at you and then when you wake up he would ask you how you were feeling and ask what you needed whatever you needed he would get it for you immediately 

Baby boy

on a scale from eddie to argyle, how well do you handle stress?

#valid reasons why i think eddie and argyle would’ve made perfect friends

DAY THREE

Steve Harrington + corruption kink

[warnings - dom!priest!steve, innocent!fem!reader, kinda dumbification, oral (m receiving), blasphemy, sex in a church]

[word count - 1147]

[kinktober list]

“How long has it been since your last confession?” He closed his hand, squeezed your fingers.

“How long has it been since your last confession?” He closed his hand, squeezed your fingers.

“How long has it been since your last confession?” He closed his hand, squeezed your fingers.

“It has been six days since my last confession, father,” you were referencing your admission over missing your nightly prayers, a sin he’d forgiven you for so long as you promised to pray twice a day for three days. You leaned your cheek onto his knee, absorbing his warmth with a contented smile, “my sin is- my- my sin is,”

“Go on, angel. God doesn’t judge you,” he slipped his other hand down, round to the back of your neck and allowed his thumb to caress the skin just below your hairline.

“I have been having unclean thoughts,” you admitted, closing your eyes to fend off the embarrassment rising in your body. Steve chuckled, loud and airy and it echoed throughout the empty church, provoking even more humiliation to bubble in your belly. You swallowed your pride and admitted, “my dreams have been plagued by inappropriate images,

“Tell me about your dreams,” he bounced his knee, soothing against your frayed nerves.

“And God really won’t judge me?” You bit your lip, pulling away from his leg and looking up at him with pleading eyes. He shook his head, smiling affectionately at your innocent expression, “I- I’ve been thinking about you,”

“Been thinkin’ bout me, angel?” He grinned, wide and wolfish. His hand trailed down your neck, down, down, down until the tips of his calloused finger rested at the curve of your heaving breasts. The touch set your skin on fire, sending white hot shivers over straight down to your increasingly aching core. He tapped your sternum. Once, twice, three times, shooting shockwaves ricochetting throughout your body, “why don’t you tell me about it?”

“Well, when I dream, I think about your- your- in my mouth, and- and I could taste it,” you whimpered out, pressing into his lightning touch. You couldn’t bear to look at him, eyes glued to the cold, dusty cobbles to avoid his burning stare.

“Hmm, I think I know of something that may help, angel,” one hand, regrettably, left the fleshy muscle of your tit, dragging a single knuckle up the column of throat and tipping your chin up so your eyes could meet his, “you need to try it, honey,”

“But- but God says-” you argue, cut off by a thumb stroking over your bottom lip, pulling it down and huffing out a short chuckle when he allowed it to snap back into place.

“God allows his disciples to teach their… devoted parishioners anything they wish to know, even something embarrassing like that. There’s no need for you to be so flustered,”

He bent down, chest almost touching his knees, breath now ghosting over your trembling lips. His eyes bore into your own, lips brushing your own as he spoke, “when I get my cock in that pretty mouth, you won’t have enough brain cells to be shy,”

Mind blank, you could do nothing but bob your head in response. Steve pulled away, sitting upright in the pew and hooking his thumbs around the button to his perfectly ironed slacks. Once the button popped open and the zip successfully pulled down, he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, nudging your head forward until your nose was pressed against his newly exposed boxers. He didn’t smell bad, like you expected a boys crotch to smell of; not that you could focus on his scent much considering the hardness you felt through the cotton of his underwear.

“You know what I’m gonna do with you?” You shook your head, simpering as you felt the bulge twitch at the movement. He takes your hand, leads it up his thigh until it’s resting on his waistband, “I’m gonna wreck you, make you my brainless little fucktoy. Fill your mind with all the dirty things you can’t tell your mommy or daddy, and I’m gonna keep you all for myself,”

You couldn’t open your mouth, shocked by his vulgar language. He bit his lip, holding back another groan at your innocence before pulling the waistband of his boxers down, letting his heavy cock slap against his black button down. All you could do was stare blankly up at him, waiting for him to give you any further instructions.

“What you’re gonna do, princess, is you’re gonna suck on my cock like it’s one of your lollipops, okay?” He readjusted you, pulling you back by the collar of your shirt and tugging on his cock with his spare hand. The tip nudges your bottom lip, smearing it with a thick glob of precum and you dart your tongue out to taste it, humming delightedly when the taste spread over your mouth, “good girl, remember to keep your teeth tucked away. Don’t wanna hurt me, d’you?”

“Nuh uh!” You agreed, taking his guidance to slip his head into your salivating mouth. His girth stretched your lips with only his tip and he tipped his head back to rest on the backboard of the pew. He supported his shaft with one hand, pushing you down gradually until half his cock was stuffed into your mouth.

“Good girl, good girl, good girl! God, you’re just going fucking brainless for me. Just for me, huh? My good girl, gone bad, huh?” He groaned, sucking his bottom into his mouth at the sensation of your spit dribbling down onto his balls. When he fucked up into your mouth and choked you with his cockhead kissing the back of your throat, he just couldn’t help the strangled grunt escaping his full lips, “fucking look a’you, angel. Got you turned into a little whore for me,”

Your mouth was so full it was nearly impossible for sounds to escape, just obscene gags every time he jabbed your gag reflex. Precum dripped down the back of your throat, coating it like lube so he could slide better against your tongue.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ hot. Bet you’re getting so wet f’me down there, aren’t you? Probably dripping all over my floor, ruining those pretty white panties all cos of me,” he grinned, taking your hand and helped you wrap it around the section of his cock you couldn’t fit in your mouth, slipping your palm up and down his impressive girth with ease, “I’m gonna ruin you,”

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perhaps if the duffer bros didn't want people still obsessing over Eddie Munson six months after he's supposed to be dead, they should not have hired the man whose mommy called him chocolate button eyes to play him