#he WILL fall asleep with Steve’s chest as a full body pillow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buckyalpine · 2 years

Text

Personal Pillow 5

sub/dom Bucky x f reader

Yeah, this has been long over due, and has been sitting in my drafts, you should have known this was coming, how could we NOT have this.

Warnings: FLUFF, smut, lactation kink, daddy kink, pregnancy, subby/dom Bucky,

Word count: 2.6k

Bucky huffed at the sight.

You were propped up against the head board, wearing nothing but a tiny pair of shorts, your hair thrown up in a messy bun while your son nursed from you, his tiny hands clutching onto your breast. You were gazing down at him with heart eyes, your arms cradling him close to your chest while he suckled, tiny little gurgles slipping from his lips as he ate.

Another frustrated huff caught your attention as you looked up to see a needy Bucky pouting at you with sad puppy eyes, standing at the end of the bed. You giggled on the inside; you knew exactly why he had been so grumpy and pouty recently.

“There a problem Buck?” You cocked and eyebrow as he jutted his bottom lip out more, wordlessly coming to sit beside you, his eyes trained on his favourite place to be, his place of pure comfort and happiness. Now, it had become so much worse. It was one thing when he had your perfect tits to play and cuddle with all to himself but now he had to share. He had to share your perfectly swollen, heavy, pretty tits, so fucking full of milk.

“Noo” Bucky lied, his eyes playfully narrowing at the tiny bundle in your arms. His son looked at him before looking back up at you, as if he dared his daddy to try and hog mommy’s boobies.

“You get them for 5 minutes” Bucky whispered, only half jokingly your son continued to nurse, his eyes closing as he started to fall asleep. .

It appeared your son had clearly taken after his father. Your little one loved to cuddle against your chest, his little face buried in between your soft flesh; the steady beat of your heart always lulled him to sleep. His chubby hands always found their way to your breasts, holding onto them as he fed. Steve jr. had also recently taken to suckling you just for comfort, babbling and cooing, tugging at the neckline of your shirt wanting to be soothed with your nipple rather than his paci. 100% his father.

As soon as he’d fallen asleep, Bucky gently took his baby in his arms, rocking him as he took him to his room. He kissed his tiny cheeks, nothing would ever compare to how much he loved his son. He would have given his baby boy the world if he could. Except one thing. Mama’s perfect tits. The one thing they both seemed to compete over. Bucky would never set boundaries with his son, except maybe in this one instance.

“You know, she was my pillow first” Bucky chuckled to himself; his son only seemed to fall asleep on your chest. He tucked him in, turning on the baby monitor before making his way back to your room. He stood at the door, watching you take the pump and attach it to your breast.

“What are you doing?” Bucky looked at you curiously, he knew what you were about to do but there was no fucking way he was going to let that happen. You didn’t need to pump when you had him.

“He didn’t drink as much today, I have to pump, it hurts” You groaned slightly, your breasts still heavy and full. The soreness was getting worse; maybe it was a side effect of having a little super soldier baby but you produced enough milk to feed an army.

“Don’t” He looked at you with puppy like innocence but you knew his mind was anything but that. “Will-will you let me?” He took a step forward, putting his hands on your waist. He pushed you against the bed, slowly crawling on top of you to let his body weight rest on you.

“Don’t what?” you smirked, but given the way he was biting his lips, you knew exactly what your big baby wanted.

“Don’t pump” He whispered, groaning when he saw two prominent dark patches against his Henley you had thrown on, your nipples leaking.

“Hmm and why not?” You bit your lip looking up at him while he straddled you, his hands playing at the hem of your shirt.

“Mama’s milk” He pouted, it’d been so long since he got to snuggle against the warmth of your skin and now with the way you were even more sensitive there…

“Bucky you have to share” You rolled your eyes playfully, though he seemed to ignore you, his eyes growing wide as he took your top off, nearly drooling at how full your tits looked.

“Bucky doesn’t share” He didn’t even look up at you, completely focused on your peaked buds, slowly moving to lay on his stomach, his face nuzzled against your chest. He rubbed his face in, humming contently before looking up at you, his innocent eyes asking for permission.

As soon as you nodded, his lips attached to your nipple, sucking gently, groaning when the sweet milk flowed into his mouth. Bucky’s eyes were closed, in complete heaven as he greedily kneaded your neglected breast, droplets of milk coating his fingers. He pulled away for a moment to lick his fingers clean before suckling again.

You sighed happily, feeling some of the weight ease from your chest, your hand going down to gently play with his hair as he drank from you, his lips softly moving against your nipple, careful not to tug too hard when you were already so sore. You could see him slip into his subby space, whining in protest when you tried to adjust the way you were lying down, his arms wrapping around you so he could tightly hold onto you.

You giggled, rubbing his back soothingly as he stopped taking milk, his lips remaining around your nipple, softly sucking on them for comfort as he started to fall asleep. His muscles relaxed as he let sleep wash over, keeping on breast in his mouth while his hand cupped the other.

You yawned; the warmth of his body on top of yours paired with his soft snores lulled you to sleep soon after. You smiled as you fell asleep, thinking about your sweet big baby and his mini me, you wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

*****

Lets not forget, he’s not always subby. No.

You huffed around the room, with your hands supporting your back, your tender breasts aching, still feeling full even after nursing.

“What’s wrong baby” Bucky smirked, his head cocked to the side as you pouted, his cock straining in his pants watching your tits gently bounce with each step you took, your swollen nipples poking through the thin material of your shirt.

“This is your fault” You grumbled, plopping on the bed. Bucky looked at you curiously, urging you to continue but his mind was having trouble focusing, your sweet grumpy face was too much for him. “You got me pregnant with a little super soldier baby and now I have to keep pumping milk or it all gets too full”

Bucky walked over to you, yanking you by the ankles, making you lie flat on your back. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, why did he love when you got whiny and pouty, why did he love when your sweet bottom lip protruded out. His spoiled little baby, he loved being the reason your tits were so perfect, so sweet. He knew exactly what you needed.

“Aww, is that why you’re so grumpy mama, these pretty tits are too full because of daddy?” He cooed, gently cupping your face. You nodded, hissing when his fingers brushed over your sensitive nipples.

“So responsive” He hummed, biting his lip looking up at you. You could no longer see the blue in his eyes, hunger and lust consuming them. “Let daddy take care of you”

Bucky threw your top off, his teeth grazing your nipple before swirling his tongue around. You gasped at the feeling, the heightened sensitivity causing warmth to spread throughout your body. You moaned quietly as he started to suck harder, your panties now damp with your arousal. You squeezed your thighs together, soft whimpers slipping through your lips, you’d heard of people cumming from having their nipples played with. You never thought it was possible. Until now.

Bucky hardly realized he was grinding against the mattress as he suckled from you, his rock hard length desperate for some relief. He paused his ministrations to lower his sweats just enough to free his cock, continuing to rub himself against the bed as he attached to your nipple again.

“Mmm-fuck- daddyyy” You couldn’t control the whininess of your voice, your hands tugging his hair as he alternated between both nipples, his fingers expertly tugging and circling them.

“You make such pretty sounds mama” You felt confused as your orgasm started to build higher, panting and moaning, your body had never been this sensitive before. You let out a pornographic moan as Bucky locked eyes with you, his sweats pulled down, you couldn’t see his cock but you knew exactly what he was doing. You tugged his hair harder, his eyes rolling back as he moaned around your nipple, his hips moving faster.

“B-Bucky- I- fuckfuck I’m gonna- You let out a silent scream as he gave you a harsh tug with his lips, groaning as he licked off the last few drops of sweet milk from your nipples, your soaked pussy clenching around nothing as you came.

“Cum mama, fucking cum” Bucky panted, he brought his hand down to wrap around his cock, fucking into his fist as you started to cry out, his hips rolling faster chasing his high.

“You taste so fucking good baby, sweetest milk ever, could drink from you every night mama, every single night” You moaned as he buried his face into your neck, unable to keep his voice down as he made a mess over the sheets and his hand.

He sat back on his feet, stroking out the last few drops of cum, the pink tip of his cock sensitive and swollen, pearls of his arousal slowly beading from the slit. You grabbed his hand, running your tongue through his cum, humming at his taste.

“Hungry my princess?” Bucky smirked as you nodded, sitting up to suck on his sensitive cock, licking up his arousal.

“Gentle baby, fuck” Bucky moaned, before you pulled off with a pop, your hands grabbing onto him so you could cuddle. “Feel better mama?” Bucky kissed your temple before bringing his hands to cup your breasts, his thumbs gently massaging you.

“Mhm, thank you daddy” You whisper, snuggling against him while he continues to help ease the soreness away.

*****

Remember the sucking for comfort?

He does that all the time and you usually know what to expect.

When he’s subby, he’s asking for permission. His eyes are pleading, lying down on your lap as he sucks or having you lay down so he can lie on top with your nipples in his mouth. He just wants to fall asleep and the best way he can do that is in the comfort of your warm soft chest.

He usually only does this when the two of you are alone, whining and whimpering against you until you pull you top up. He wordlessly latches on, falling asleep or relaxing with ease, there’s no other place safer.

When he’s dominant, he truthfully doesn’t care whose there, he’ll pick you up and take you so he can kneed and suck to his heart’s content. Some people need a cigarette; Bucky needs your boobs.

It could happen anywhere. He does it a lot at the end of missions, dragging you off to an abandoned corner of the destroyed building, zipping your tac suit, groaning when he starts to suck. He wraps your legs around his waist to hoist you higher, keeping you pressed against the wall as he takes what he wants.

“Baby we have to go-

“They can wait, I want whats mine” Bucky growled, his hands squeezing your ass. “These pretty tits, mine, this ass, mine, those lips, mine, you’re fucking mine”

The team has definitely walked in on some colourful moments, especially when he tosses you onto the kitchen counter, yanking your top down just so he could have a taste.

“I’m hungry baby girl” Bucky smirked.

“Bucky no-

“Bucky yes” His eyes roll back, kissing from your neck down to the valley of your breasts, he know what he wants and he doesn’t want to wait.

He can be a jealous little shit when it comes to sharing.

“Bucky, you can’t be serious, he’s a baby” You giggle, gently rubbing your little ones back

“M’your baby too” He shrugs while pouting, sad he can’t squish his face into your boobs while the little one happily sleep son your chest.

“You’re a big baby” You playfully roll your eyes, while he tries to get comfy on your lap instead,

“I’m your big baby?” He looks up at you hopefully, he feels bad for getting so needy, worrying you might want some space when you already do so much for the little one, he doesn’t want you to feel suffocated.

“Always bubba” You smile at him, the three of you snuggled together. Bucky’s heart is full, he has you, he has his sweet baby boy. He takes the little one in his arms, tears nearly welling in his eyes as he son yawns contently, snuggling into his chest, his hands coming to grasp onto his dog tags.

“He loves being in daddy’s arms” You whisper, kissing the top of his head before kissing Bucky’s cheek.

“He’s still a mama’s boy” Bucky snorted, getting up to put the little one in the crib.

“You and him both” You giggle, as Bucky nearly runs back so he can snuggle with his favourite pillow.

Bonus:

Sam smirked, watching Bucky lick his lips as he looked at you, your large swollen belly protruding from under his shirt; he swore to himself, the only goal he had in life was to keep you pregnant. There was truly nothing else on this earth that was as beautiful.

The team was used to it by now, watching Bucky turn into a complete puddle whenever you were near him, and he was at another level when you were pregnant. He’d become even more protective and needy ever since he found out you were having a baby girl, no one, absolutely no one would ever hurt his princesses.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Bucky nodded but his focus remained on you, his eyes locked on the gently sway and jiggle of your heavy breasts as you moved around the kitchen.

“You know the boob thing, what if your sweet baby girl meets a boyfriend doing the same thing on the couch when shes older? Whatcha gonna do tinamn?” Sam wiggled his eye brows with a shit eating grin on his face as Bucky took two strides to you, his hands protectively wrapping around your baby bump.

“No birdbrain, no” His face scrunched at Sam as he pulled you close to him, shaking his head. “Not my little angel, no”

“Why not Barnes, you think she can’t meet someone like you?” You sassed, snorting when Bucky looked down at you in fear.

“She’s never allowed near someone like me” Bucky held onto you tighter, the fear only growing on his face.

“You okay Buck? You giggled, looking at his ridiculous face, yelping when he lifted you in his arms with easy. “What are you doing baby?”

He had to shake off the thought, walking away with you making his way to your room.

“Bucky needs boobs”

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

In addition to modern migraine Steve (my beloved) I would absolutely adore a oneshot of migraine Steve and chronic pain Eddie taking care of each other if that sparks any creative juices for you!

Thank you!!! I will give Steve a migraine any chance I get, which is really unfair and not cool, but it's just why not make the boy suffer more? But chronic pain Eddie? NEW TO ME. I mean obviously there is so much potential to be explored and boy I hope I explored it enough in this for you. Hope you love it - Mickala ❤️

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It was a bad day for Eddie.

His bones ached, his muscles ached, his scars, somehow, ached.

The clothes on his body felt like they weighed 100 pounds and were covered in needles.

The trek to the bathroom felt like a marathon and he was in dead fucking last.

He hadn’t always been like this; The pain hadn’t always controlled his life the way it started to after the Upside Down.

Sure, the injuries he sustained there caused problems, but they’d figured out that they’d just exacerbated what was already slowly happening in his body.

Fibromyalgia.

Wayne said it ran in the family, that some of them just had mild cases that were easily treated with pain meds, hot baths, and massages.

Maybe he’d get lucky and that would be it.

Or maybe luck left him long ago and he was stuck with the bad kind.

The kind that left him in pain always, but on some days, it was the kind of pain that made him wish the bats had achieved their goal of eating him from the inside out.

Some things did help dull the pain.

He took Tylenol like it was candy, probably destroying his liver in the process.

Sometimes just floating in Steve’s pool helped take the sharp pains away.

Hot baths helped if Steve served as his pillow.

Sleeping it away was good when his body let him do that.

Steve was still asleep in bed, lucky bastard. He wouldn’t have to hear Eddie’s groaning while he tried to just use the damn toilet.

He sat because it hurt to stand more than it hurt to sit, and let his head fall forward.

He heard footsteps coming into the bathroom and he sighed.

“Go back to bed, Stevie.”

“Bad day?”

Steve was speaking so low, Eddie had to strain to hear him.

Oh no.

“Mhm. Migraine?”

“Mhm.”

Steve walked over to the bath, turning the faucets until he felt their desired temperature.

“We don’t have to do this right now. You should go back to bed so your head gets better.”

“Wanna help you. It’ll help me, too.”

He was probably at least a little right about that. Baths did help his migraines sometimes too.

Steve poured the peppermint oil soap into the tub, which was specifically for their bad days.

It helped the pounding in his head and the shooting pains in Eddie’s body.

Eddie got up, removed all of his clothing, and let his back rest against the cool tile wall behind him.

It provided a bit of relief, like a full body ice pack, as he watched Steve strip off his sweatpants and boxers.

Steve got in, shutting off the water when he was sitting down, and relaxed against the back of the tub. He looked over at Eddie and nodded at him to get in.

Eddie slipped in slowly, his body screaming at him to stop moving, but also asking for relief in any form it could have.

He settled his back against Steve’s chest, sighing when the warmth of the bath and coolness of the peppermint helped ease some of the joint and muscle pain he felt.

Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, fingers giving just enough pressure for him to know what he was wordlessly asking.

Eddie nodded.

Steve started rubbing his shoulders, making him moan with relief.

Steve kissed the back of his neck after a few minutes, letting him know he was taking a break and resting his eyes. They both tried to rest, tried to keep the pain at bay for just a bit longer.

Eventually, the water got colder. Steve didn’t like sitting in cold water, it sent him into panic attacks, so Eddie took one for the team and leaned up and over to drain the water.

He stood up and wrapped the towel hanging up around his waist, moving slowly to trick his body into thinking he was still in the warm bath.

He helped Steve stand knowing his migraines brought an imbalance in equilibrium, a nausea he couldn’t prevent when he moved too fast.

He wrapped Steve’s towel around his waist, ignoring the twinge of his elbows and back as he did so.

But Steve didn’t ignore it. He looked at him sadly and tilted his head towards the door.

They made it back to their bed, both somehow more tired than before, as if they’d actually run a marathon instead of just walked to the bathroom to take a bath.

They didn’t bother trying to dry off, dropping their towels and getting into bed naked and damp, letting the sheets do the work that they should’ve done.

It hurt to feel anything touching him, but something about the way Steve’s body curved just right into his, his hand resting over his worst scar on his abdomen, made it bearable.

Steve rested his head against his chest, letting out a shaky breath like he’d been holding it back until he could be comfortable in bed. Maybe he had been.

Eddie’s fingers found their way to Steve’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp in a way that he knew helped distract from the pulsing in his head.

They fell asleep like that, holding each other in the ways that helped, in the ways that made them feel like they could face another day despite the pain.

They slept their bad days away, together, until they found good days again.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #migraine steve harrington #chronic pain eddie munson #anon request #requests #soft soft soft #hurt/comfort

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

Note

28 "i’m just getting comfy" with Steve Harrington ? 🥺

warnings: smut (oral m receiving, grinding, semi-public fooling around), mutual pining, steve being a little rough/impatient

It started out relatively innocent: movie night, with a bunch of your friends, on the couch in your basement. Every blanket and pillow from upstairs you could find, popcorn, Junior Mints, all that-- you wanted this to be perfect.

The one thing you kind of forgot to anticipate was that your couch was just not big enough for this many people.

"You look uncomfortable down there," Steve noticed as you shifted around on the pillow on the floor; you'd offered the couch to your friends, but a little decorative cushion wasn't really enough to protect your poor butt from the hard basement floor.

"It's fine," you insisted, "I want you guys to have the couch."

"Shh," someone hissed, apparently (rightfully) annoyed that you were talking during the movie. Steve, sighing, grabbed the remote and paused the tape; some of the group groaned a little bit.

"Seriously," Steve frowned, "it's your house and you're on the floor. There's room for you on the couch."

"Uh, where?" you motioned to the already-full sofa: Stacy and Kyle were squished up next to Evan on the end, who had Claire on his lap since they were dating and all.

"Come on up-- everybody will scoot over," he promised. You sighed and stood up. But, of course, when you approached the couch, nobody moved. "Guys, come on," he instructed them, waving his hands to motion for them to move.

"We never said we were gonna make room," Stacy noticed. "Because there isn't any."

"Then one of you guys sit on the floor!" he decided.

"No, no," you interjected, "you're all guests."

"Why don't you just sit on Steve's lap?" Kyle suggested, looking a little too proud of himself; you knew what they were doing, they'd probably planned all this... the whole group had been trying to wingman for you and Steve for a while now. It irritated you because, one, you told Claire about your crush in confidence, and two, because you were sure Steve didn't feel the same way. Why would he? He had his pick of the litter of the girls at school and you were just his friend. Not that you minded that. It was just a little crush, nothing you couldn't get over.

"I... isn't that weird?" Steve mumbled.

"No, it's fine!" Evan insisted.

"We're doing it," Claire pointed out.

"Yeah, but you guys are, you know--" Steve explained.

"It's not a big deal," Stacy rolled her eyes, "can you guys just work it out so we can watch the movie, please?"

Hesitating for a second, you gave Steve a look. "I mean, if it's okay with you..."

"Y-yeah, I mean, it's fine with me, I just wanted to make sure it wasn't gonna be weird for you," Steve replied.

"Why would it be weird?" you wondered.

"I... I don't know," he shook his head, "just sit down and I'll hit 'play'."

You did, gingerly, hoping to not go too fast and slam into his thighs; when you relaxed, it wasn't super comfortable, but it was certainly making your body react. It felt like everywhere he touched you-- his hips near yours, the top of his legs on the back of yours, your feet bumping together-- you felt warm and sensitive. "Are you good?" you asked him.

"Yeah, totally," he nodded, "you don't have to sit so far forward-- lean back so I can see the TV--"

When you leaned back, your back pressed into his chest, and you found yourself biting your lip... good thing he couldn't see it.

"Okay, here we go," he mumbled, grabbing the remote again and unpausing the film before tossing it onto the table and getting comfortable under you.

You expected him to be... bonier? But his thighs were strong and soft and not as bad to sit on as you thought... that said, you had to adjust once or twice to make sure your legs didn't fall asleep. Each time you moved, you heard his breathing change; wanting to lean back a little more, you gently moved your hips back, and you heard him suck in a breath quickly.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he whispered under his breath.

"I'm just getting comfy," you whispered back.

"Could you... do it less?" he hissed.

"What's the problem?" you asked.

"I... you're just getting kinda close to... stuff," he explained awkwardly.

You really didn't mean to move again, when he just asked you not to, but for some reason you did-- and that was when you felt it. Actually, what you felt first was his hand shooting out to grab your hip and keep you still. Only then did you process that the shape you were feeling pressed against your ass was his erection. Your face heated up in an instant; that's what it was right? Could that be it?

...It almost felt too big to be his cock, but then you shifted again, and you heard him choke out a little noise, and you smiled. Oh god... am I grinding on Steve Harrington right now?

He dug his fingers harder into your hips, and it hurt, but it didn't deter you as much as it should have; it just made you bite back a moan and glance over at your couch companions to make sure they were still paying attention to the movie.

How were you supposed to make it through this whole 90-minute experience without getting caught, or getting so worked up that you had to do something?

Whether it was intuition, good luck, or just a case of being less subtle than you realized, it was Stacy that saved you by pausing the movie about a half hour later. "Who else needs a pee break?" she announced.

"It's your own fault for crushing three Cokes in the first act," Claire noticed.

"So? You had two," Stacy replied.

"Yeah, I didn't say I didn't have to go, too..."

"Okay, uh," you tried to remember the layout of your own house, "there's a bathroom in the hallway by my room, and one by the living room, and another at the end of the hall on the left."

"Great!" Stacy hopped up first, Claire following her. You stood up, too, just to stretch your legs and not look too suspicious, but didn't have anywhere to go. After a quick moment passed, Evan got up, too.

"I could actually use a glass of water," he decided, "mind if I get one from the kitchen?"

"No, go ahead!" you smiled, and he made his way to the stairs as well.

Quickly realizing that you were one person away from being left alone with Steve, who was currently staring at you which you were trying to avoid openly noticing, you decided you needed to make a break for it.

"Uh, you know, I bet there's still a bathroom open... I'll go, so we don't have to pause again later..."

You dashed away and bounded up the stairs, finding the bathroom by your room thankfully unoccupied; you went in and shut the door, running the sink to splash your face when Steve barged in.

"Steve, what the fu--" you frowned, but he slammed the door behind him and spun you around, pinning you to the counter.

"What were you doing back there?" he hissed.

"I... I was trying to get comfortable," you defended.

"Bullshit," he sneered. "What was your plan, huh? Make me bust in my pants during the movie, and then what? What did you think would happen?"

You chewed your lip, glancing away. "Uh, I dunno..."

"Yeah, you weren't thinking, were you?" he sighed. "You didn't think you'd have to deal with the consequences of getting me hard in front of everyone and leaving, right?"

You swallowed as he stepped back, just enough to start opening his belt.

"Get on your knees," he demanded.

"Steve!" you gasped.

"Or you can leave," he offered, "and we can pretend nothing happened-- but I don't think that's what you want, is it?"

Just then, he reached into his jeans and pulled his cock out; just as thick as it had felt against you, hard and flushed and dripping precum already... you absent-mindedly licked your lips.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he scoffed smugly. "Get on your knees, finish what you started."

Carefully, you obeyed, kneeling on the bathmat in front of him. He kept his eyes trained on you, watching you carefully reach out and take his cock in your hand, before delicately licking a stripe over the tip. He only reacted with a twitch of his mouth, a ghost of a snarl, and you nearly whimpered. Opening your mouth wider, you took the head inside and swirled your tongue around it.

"Fuck," he breathed, reaching out to rest a hand on your head-- not forcing you to take it deeper, yet, but guiding you gently.

With each bob of your head, you fit more and more, letting your spit soak him and glide with every motion. He tasted good, maybe it was just because you could smell his body wash, but it was nice; sweet and musky in perfect contrast to the little doses of salt you got each time more precum smeared on your tongue.

"Mm, that's good," he praised softly, grabbing your hair a little more roughly-- not rough, but forceful. A pang of arousal hit right between your legs, making your hips rock in the air against nothing. "Shit-- where'd you learn to do that? I thought you were a good girl, guess not..."

You whined, the sound reverberating through his shaft, and he groaned.

"F-fuck, do that again," he pleaded, and you hummed around him; he let his head fall back, putting his hand on the back of your neck to push his cock right up to your throat. "Oh, we waited way too long to do this... I've been waiting so long for this."

Gently, you ventured deeper, the tip of his cock making you choke at first-- but then you swallowed around it, and it worked. With patience, you took more and more, until both of you moaned when your lips were wrapped around the very base of him.

"You're so good," he whispered, "I'm pretty close-- keep going, we need to get back out there soon..."

Of course, 'keep going' was kind of a moot point when he was fully fucking your throat at this point, keeping your head still as he thrust his hips back and forth; you know, you'd been a little offended when he said you weren't a good girl, but considering the way your body reacted to him using your mouth like this, he was definitely accurate.

"Fuck, m'gonna come in your mouth," he warned you with a whisper. "You'll swallow it, right?"

You weren't sure if you'd be able to nod enough for him to notice it, but apparently he did, because he purred proudly.

"Yeah, that's my girl," he praised, and you whimpered around him again. You wanted to sit down further so you could grind against the floor and get some friction on your aching pussy, but he was too tall, you had to stay on your knees... you tried reaching between your legs to touch yourself, but it wasn't enough-- you needed him.

You could feel his cock pulsing just before he came, and you winced a little when the first spurt of come shot back into your throat just because you didn't see it coming. He breathed through his teeth, clearly trying to stay quiet in case the other people in the house could hear from wherever they were... oh god, you were trying not to imagine that. The idea of one of them walking in right now was humiliating, and terrifying, and sexy.

"Hnng, fuck," he groaned, pumping a few more times before he was apparently done and finally stilled with a sigh. You suckled on his cock while it was still in your mouth, making him wince and pull out. "Fuck," he panted, looking down at you again, "show me."

You opened your mouth and he bit his lip at whatever he saw in there-- it felt like he came a lot, you could feel it moving around your mouth. It didn't taste, like, awesome or anything, you weren't about to go spread it on some toast and dig in, but knowing it was Steve's come in your mouth was just so hot that you didn't care at all. You swallowed it all in one gulp, and he smiled down at you, fixing his hair before he put his cock back in his pants (priorities, right?).

"Okay, see you out there," he offered as he reached for the bathroom door, about to leave.

"W-wait, what about me?" you pouted, standing up.

"We'll take care of you after," he promised, "I think that's the least you deserve after pulling that shit."

Fair enough, but your body was so desperate for him already. "But Steve, I... I'm so wet," you whispered, and he smiled, letting go of the door to step closer to you.

"Really?" he smirked.

You nodded, and he tilted his head. "Well, you know what?" he said.

"What?" you asked coyly.

"That's your problem," he smiled, giving you a peck on the cheek and a 'boop' on the nose with his finger before he left, shutting the door behind him.

You stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the door as if it would make him reappear and say he was just kidding and he was gonna fuck you silly real quick. He was right, there really wasn't time, and this was the least you deserved, but shit... you didn't know Steve could be so mean.

But you liked it.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic

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hbyrde36 · 5 months

Text

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 11

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 ao3 link

*Eddie*

Eddie had never had a morning after.

How could he, when he’d never experienced a night before?

Until now, anyway.

And while they hadn’t gone all the way, so to speak, it was still the most sex Eddie had ever had, because it was the only sex he’d ever had. So he figured it counted.

It might have been his first, but he didn’t think anything would ever top this morning after. Whether last night was a one time thing or the start of something more, he’d always remember the day he woke up in Steve Harrington’s arms.

They must have shifted positions in the night. Eddie now found himself playing the little spoon with Steve’s strong arms wrapped around his waist. Though his body itched to move, to yawn, to stretch, he held himself still, basking in the heat of Steve's chest pressed up against his back, not ready to give up the moment quite yet.

With the press of a soft kiss to his bare shoulder Eddie discovered that Steve was awake too and that perhaps he hadn’t been doing as well a job pretending to be asleep as he thought. He smiled to himself as Steve’s lips continued to make trail upwards. He tilted his head back, exposing his neck in invitation which Steve gladly accepted.

“Good Morning.” Steve whispered in his ear.

Eddie turned in the other boy’s hold. Suddenly he couldn’t go another minute without seeing Steve's face. He looked ethereal in the soft morning light that filtered in through the thin curtains that covered Eddie's window. His hair was sleep tousled and his face still had the impression of sheet lines in it but Eddie was absolutely sure he’d never seen someone so beautiful in his life.

He settled back down on his pillow, happy now to be facing Steve. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Okay?” Steve said incredulously. He leaned in to capture Eddie’s lips once with his own, before moving on to pepper what felt like every square inch of his face with dozens of little tickling kisses. “I think that might have been the best night’s sleep I've ever had.”

Eddie giggled, high and unguarded before promptly hiding his face in the other boy's neck. Steve was being entirely too cute and his heart was full in a way he’d never felt before.

Steve’s arms tightened around him, pulling the front of their bodies dangerously close together. They were both growing hard, there was no hiding it since neither of them had bothered to get dressed again after making a mess of themselves last night. Eddie groaned, unable to stop from bucking his hips forward, pressing himself into Steve's thigh chasing a bit of friction. Steve moved against him as well, a soft moan falling from his own lips. Just then, a door slammed loudly somewhere else in the house reminding both boys that they were not alone in the trailer. And not only was it morning, but uncle Wayne and the girls were definitely awake and only a room away.

Eddie groaned again but for a very different reason this time. Steve chuckled and they reluctantly moved away from each other in unison.

Steve sat up on the edge of the bed, most of his lower half mercifully still concealed beneath the covers. “We should probably get dressed before anyone comes bursting in here huh?” He said, looking back at Eddie over his shoulder.

“Unfortunately.” Eddie agreed through a deep sigh. He waited until Steve was busy rooting through the bag they’d brought back from his old house before getting up to cross the room. He quickly pulled a clean pair of boxers on and then the first jeans he could find. It didn’t matter that they’d laid together naked all night, somehow the idea of walking around in the daylight exposed made him a little self conscious.

He felt better being at least mostly covered up, and went to the closet to pick out a shirt. He glanced at Steve and found that he was still rooting through the bag even though he was fully dressed now in his own jeans and a soft looking worn yellow sweater.

“We can always go back. If there’s something you wanted that I missed or anything.” Eddie remarked, trying to sound casual about it as he shoved an old black sabbath t-shirt over his head.

“No, it’s fine. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid to want your own things, Steve. What were you looking for?”

Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “My letterman jacket.”

Eddie bit his lip and quickly turned back to the closet, as much to hide his face as to retrieve what he was hiding in there under a box of junk.

“See? I know it’s silly and I don't even...” Steve trailed off as Eddie stepped back from the closet and held the green and white jacket out to him.

He looked at the floor as he spoke, too embarrassed to meet Steve’s gaze. “I don’t even know why I took it, honestly. It was hanging there on the back of a chair in your room and I just, I don’t know. I couldn’t leave it there.”

Steve didn’t take the jacket, instead he tucked a finger under Eddie's chin, tilting his head up until their eyes met.

“Hey, I’m glad you took it.”

Eddie swallowed hard, nodding a little as Steve did finally take the jacket out of his hand. He instantly went searching in the pockets. It wasn’t until then that Eddie realized what he was looking for. Steve didn’t really care about the jacket, he just wanted what was in it.

“Oh.” Eddie breathed, reaching for his wallet on the nightstand .He quickly retrieved the polaroid that he’d been carrying around with him and handed it over. “Is that what you’re looking for?”

“Yeah.” Steve said, smiling broadly. “Thank you. It’s… it’s the only picture I have of us together. It means a lot to me” He looked at the image for a long moment then handed it right back. “Actually, could you hold onto it for a little longer? Keep it safe for me?”

Eddie nodded again, a little dumbfounded and at a loss for words as he tucked it back into his wallet.

Steve cleared his throat. “I, um, I’d like you to keep this too. If you want to.” He said, nervously offering the jacket back to him as well.

Eddie stilled, and couldn’t bring himself to look at the clothing item in question. His throat was suddenly dry, palms sweaty. It couldn’t mean…

“Are you asking me to go steady, Harrington?” Eddie joked, or tried to at least. He expected Steve to joke back or something but instead he looked Eddie right in the eyes, expression serious.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Eddie said, voice barely audible at first. “Are you sure you want that? I mean… knowing what you do about me?”

“What? That you're brave, and sweet, and kind, and thoughtful, and… ”

“Steve.” Eddie grumbled.

Steve knew damn well what he meant. Eddie was a mystery to everyone, including himself. He didn’t know where he came from or who his parents were. He had powers that he didn't understand, he might even be dangerous. He was kind of a mess.

“I think I can overlook all that and see past it to your good qualities.”

Eddie couldn’t help but break out into a smile. “Such as?”

“Well, you’re pretty okay to look at.”

“Just okay?”

“Mhmm” Steve hummed, setting the jacket down on the bed before taking Eddie into his arms. They kissed, one, two, three times before Steve pulled back, suddenly looking nervous again.

“So, what do you think?”

Eddie marveled at how Steve could possibly think he would say anything other than a resounding yes. “I think you’ve made a big mistake here because you’re never getting rid of me now.”

“Sounds perfect.” Steve smiled and his whole face lit up with it like he’d just been given the greatest gift, as if he were the lucky one.

Eddie knew better.

He huffed a laugh and shook his head at himself. “First boyfriend and I manage to bag Steve Harrington. Maybe there is something to all those Satan worshiping rumors.”

“Eddie.”

“How else do you explain it?” Eddie teased.

Steve rolled his eyes, then paused, face screwed up in thought.

“Am I really the first person you’ve dated?”

Eddie shuffled his feet and fought to retain eye contact. “You're sorta my first… everything, Steve.” He knew he could have just not said anything and he probably would have gotten away with it, but he didn’t want to start their relationship with any sort of lies between them, even if it was a little embarrassing to admit.

He squirmed, watching as realization dawned on Steve’s face. “So yesterday, the kissing, and then last night… that was?”

“Yup.”

Steve slid his hands up and down Eddie’s arms eventually taking both of his hands and twining their fingers together. “Eds, why didn’t you say anything? I would have…”

The blush Eddie had been fighting off up till now rose up his face and neck. He rested his head on Steve's shoulder trying to hide it. “It's not really something you want to just blurt out in the moment. Besides, I wanted it. I wanted to take care of you.”

“Alright,” Steve murmured, kissing his hair. “But next time–”

He was interrupted by the not nearly distant enough sound of a cabinet slamming and cups and plates being set out in the kitchen.

“If we ever get another moment alone–” Steve tried to continue, but as if the universe was intent on reminding them that their time for now was up, there came a rough knock on the bedroom door.

“Breakfast, boys.” Wayne called out.

“I think these are my favorite waffles so far.” El said around a mouthful of Eggo, butter, and syrup.

“So far?” Wayne asked, amused.

“She’s a bit of an aficionado.” Steve answered, grinning. “All that effort making them from scratch and I could have been buying frozen?”

Eleven giggled, nodding enthusiastically before turning her attention back to Max. The girls seemed to have become best friends overnight. It warmed Eddie’s heart to see, Steve must have noticed it too if the fond smiles he was sending their way were any indication.

“So, what’s a guy gotta do to earn the homemade waffles, Harrington?” Eddie asked softly, lightly bumping his shoulder against the other boy’s.

Steve took his hand under the table and squeezed it. “I think we could work something out.” He said equally quiet.

Clearly the comment was meant for only his ears, and while the two girls were suitably distracted with each other (Max was explaining the basics of skateboarding to an enraptured Eleven), Wayne was peeking at them out of the corner of his eye.

Eddie wanted to kiss Steve right then and there at the table but he held back. Wayne might already be on to them and unless they cooled it Max and El wouldn’t be far behind. He squeezed back with the hand Steve was holding and reluctantly let it drop.

When everyone was finished Wayne gathered their plates and set about washing them, refusing Steve’s offer of help. Eddie didn’t know who the old man was trying to impress, knowing full well that if it was just the two of them they’d have let the sticky plates sit in that sink all day.

The phone rang, loud and shrill. Eddie jumped up automatically to answer it so his uncle wouldn't have to trail soapy water all over the place.

“Hello?”

“Hey, kid.”

It was Hopper, and he sounded absolutely exhausted. Memories of last night came barreling to the forefront of Eddie’s mind. In his happy haze he’d almost forgotten about the lab and the fire, but before he could say anything the chief was talking again.

“Listen, tell Wayne I'm sorry but I won't be able to make our fishing trip this weekend.”

What the fuck?

“What do you mean, what about the– “

Hopper cut him off, loudly interrupting before he could ask any questions. “Just tell your Uncle exactly what I said, okay? I gotta go.” He hung up without another word.

Eddie stared down at the receiver still sitting in his hand and had a terrible feeling he was missing something.

“That the school calling to tell me you didn’t show up again today?” Wayne asked from across the room.

“No, it was Hopper.” He replied. “Since when do you fish?”

“Ah, shit.” Wayne cursed, dropping the dish he was holding rather forcefully into the soapy water and quickly drying his hands. “Ed, what did he say exactly?”

Eddie repeated what Hopper had said word for word. Wayne visibly paled.

“Okay kids. You got 5 minutes. Pack what you can.”

“What?” Eddie squawked.

“Have you ever seen me go fishing? It's a code that me and Jim worked out a long time ago.” Wayne said.

Ok, well that made more sense Eddie supposed. “What does it mean?”

The older man sighed, raking a hand over his face. “In a nutshell it means we need to get the hell out of here as soon as possible… and we might not be coming back.”

“Fuck.”

It hit Eddie all over again, everything the man standing in front of him had done and continued to do to keep him safe. Wayne had known since day one that something like this might happen, and he’d been prepared to cut and run at a moment's notice with no questions asked and no concern for the fact that he’d be ruining his own future.

Steve tugged Eddie’s arm, spurring him into action. Right, no time to dwell on it now, he could be sappy later.

They rushed to his room.

“I got the girls covered, '' Wayne called to their backs. “Meet out front, quick as you can!”

Steve's bag was still packed and sitting open on the floor. He zipped it up and threw it over his shoulder then began to help Eddie with his own. He had an old army surplus bag stuffed under his bed. He pulled it out and they began to fill it with clothes until it seemed like enough.

Eddie scanned around the room wondering what was worth it to take. He wasn’t even remotely prepared for this scenario. He spotted Steve’s letterman jacket still sitting on the bed and added it to the bag, along with his battered old copy of The Hobbit. He snatched photos right off the walls, a few of him and Wayne, Claudia and Dustin, the boys.

Lastly, he looked up to where his sweetheart hung on the wall in front of the mirror. He hated to leave his beloved electric guitar behind, but it seemed silly to take it when he had no idea where they were going or exactly what kind of trouble they were running from.

Steve watched him, sad eyes full of sympathy as he rested a hand on Eddie’s back. “What about that one?” He suggested, tilting his head towards the old acoustic guitar that sat collecting dust in the corner of the room. “It’s light and you can play it without an amp.”

He had a point but Eddie still felt like it wasn’t important enough. Wayne was already shouting at them to hurry. He hesitated, and Steve made the decision for him, slinging the guitar over his own back with the shoulder strap and linking their free hands together.

Eddie took one last look around the room as they walked out, years of memories etched into the walls. He hoped that somehow Wayne was wrong and they would be able to come back here eventually, but he wouldn’t hold his breath.

The trailer park was calm and quiet as they loaded what little everyone had collected into Wayne’s truck and Eddie’s van. Neither of the young girls had any belongings and Wayne himself only had a few small boxes and bags.

“Max, Ellie, you want to ride with me or with the boys?”

El turned to her brother before answering. “Is it okay if I go with Mr. Wayne?”

“Of course, sweetie. You two keep him company, I've got this one.” Steve said, winking at her and hooking a thumb in Eddie’s direction.

El grinned and she and Max climbed into the passenger side of the truck.

Wayne walked over as he threw the last bag in the bed of his truck.

“Now, you boys follow me closely. Where we’re going ain't all that far but it’s in the middle of nowhere.”

They rode in silence.

Both too scared of what this all meant to manage any kind of conversation but they kept each other’s hands in a desperate grip over the center console. It only got worse when Wayne pulled off the paved road and onto a dirt one, barely distinguishable from the unbeaten path around it. The way was bumpy and they had to go slow until eventually the trees grew too thick and they had to stop altogether.

There was a small cabin sitting in a clearing not far off, Eddie figured they’d just walk the last few feet.

“Hopper’s cabin?” Eddie guessed out loud once they had all gotten out of the vehicles, though he already knew he was right.

His uncle didn’t question it, just nodded in agreement. “It’s been in his family for years. When you came along, Jim was the first to realize we needed an escape plan if there was ever a risk you’d been discovered. He wiped all record of this place from city hall and what-not as best as he could, and we stocked it up with supplies. I hoped it’d never be needed but I'm sure glad we have it now.”

The cabin was neat, clean, and a lot nicer than the one Eddie had imagined, though it wasn’t any bigger unfortunately. It would be a bit of a tight squeeze for the 5 of them, but not much worse than home had been really so he knew they would make it work.

Predictably, Wayne insisted that the rest of them should take the only two bedrooms.

Max and El set off right away to explore their new and hopefully temporary home.

Eddie knew it was pointless to argue with the older man but he felt like he’d cost his uncle so much already. It didn’t seem right letting him give up one of the only beds too.

“Wayne, I think… “ He looked at Steve before continuing, hoping the other boy would be okay with what he was about to offer. He must have understood and nodded encouragingly. “You should take the other room. At your age you should really be sleeping in a bed and me and Steve will be alright out here.”

“I know you didn’t just say at my age.” His uncle said, arms crossing over his chest.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean, you should have a bed!”

Wayne looked at them in turn and sighed. “Boys, look, there's two of you and only one of me, and I don’t want to assume anything…” He trailed off, raking a hand over his suddenly red face. “I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready, but I think it’d be best for everyone if you had a little privacy. I’d just like to point out that the walls here don’t look much thicker than the trailer’s, so, keep that in mind.”

Eddie felt all the blood drain from his face. “Oh my god.”

“I'm not sayin’ I heard anything! But–” Wayne tried to continue, throwing his hands up in surrender, but Eddie interrupted him mid sentence.

“Oh my god Wayne, please stop talking. We’ll take the room and whatever else you want if you just please, please stop talking.”

Eddie chanced a sideways look at Steve. He’d been purposely avoiding the other boy’s gaze for the entire exchange, but they hadn’t yet talked about how open they wanted to be about their new relationship, and he was desperate to see how Steve was taking all this.

To Eddie’s shock he was watching the whole thing with barely concealed amusement. Clearly he was fine, at least with Wayne knowing about them. The whole thing was still completely mortifying, but he was relieved that Steve was taking it all in stride. Eddie was pretty sure he hadn’t come out to anyone yet really and he knew from personal experience how nerve wracking it could be to be seen, really seen, for the first time.

Wayne huffed a laugh and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. Eddie snatched up his own bag as well as Steve’s and began to haul them both towards the bedroom they’d be sharing. He expected Steve to follow him, thought he had actually, until he overheard hushed voices on the other side of the cabin.

“Thank you for all this, for taking me and El in before and bringing us along now. I uh, I know how protective you are of Eddie and um, I just want you to know that this isn’t… I really care about him.”

“I can see that, son. Neither of you is very subtle, just uh, so you’re aware.” Wayne gave another breathy laugh. “I’m happy for the two of you and I want you to know I’ve got no problem with it. I've known about Eddie for a while and I love him just the same as I ever have. I support him. You too, Steve. He's got a good heart, and I'm glad he found someone who can see that and appreciate it.”

“Thank you.” Steve’s voice cracked on the short phrase and Eddie had to sneak a glance out the doorway to make sure he was okay.

Wayne had his arms wrapped around Steve, whose shoulders were shaking slightly. The older man was rubbing his back and murmuring to him quietly.

Eddie retreated back into the room and slowly began to unpack. He was so thankful for his uncle at that moment, for the sort of man he was, and the kindness he was showing Steve. He knew now what kind of people the Harrington's were. He wondered when Steve had last been hugged by a parental figure. It’d probably been a long time, well before he had disappeared and gotten locked up in that awful place. He had El, of course, and now he had Eddie too, but there was something different about having a trustworthy grownup in your corner. Someone who’d lived a bit. Who knew what life could throw at you and tried their best to keep you safe from it.

Eventually Steve came to find him and Eddie pretended not to notice the slight ring of red around his eyes. Steve smiled as he helped to put the last of their clothes into drawers. He seemed remarkably lighter, as if some long carried weight had been taken off his shoulders.

After all the drama of going on the run, their afternoon at the cabin was remarkably boring. There was nothing much to do except worry about the others and wait for some kind of word from Hopper. Wayne seemed sure the man would show up at any time. There was a phone on the wall, Eddie had noticed, but when he checked the line he found only dead air.

The girls had found a stack of old board games in a cupboard and were spending their time playing round after round of checkers.

Wayne busied himself in the kitchen, going over their supplies and throwing some kind of concoction together for dinner.

Eddie and Steve sat together on the couch trying to enjoy each other's company while stuck in the hell of waiting for the next thing to go wrong.

They all heard it when a car pulled up nearby, brakes squealing a little as it came to a stop. It occurred to Eddie as they all rushed outside that it might have been smarter to stay hidden until they knew if their visitor was friend or foe. But Wayne had been right in what he said earlier, they were out in the middle of fucking nowhere, the odds of someone just happening upon them there were slim to none.

Eddie never thought he’d see Hopper’s police SUV and feel such immense relief. He knew he probably owed the man an apology, several in fact. He’d always given the chief a hard time, he couldn’t help it. Hopper was ‘the man’, part of the system that Eddie had spent so much time and energy railing against, but he was coming to realize that under all his rough exterior the chief was actually a good guy, and way less concerned about the law than he could have been.

The driver's side door of the SUV opened and slammed closed, the sound echoing twice after as the rear passenger doors opened and closed. He wasn’t alone.

Chrissy and Robin raced through the trees, making it to the cabin before Hopper had made his way around the other side of his car.

Steve and Eddie turned to each other. Matching looks of surprise on their faces.

“Are you guys okay?” Robin asked when they got close enough to not have to shout.

Eddie went down the steps to meet the two girls, Steve following close behind.

“Yeah we’re all fine, what are you doing here?”

Chrissy threw herself at him abruptly, hugging him tight. “I’m so sorry it’s all my fault.”

Eddie tried to look at Robin over her shoulder, searching for any clue as to what the girl in his arms meant, but she was already busy talking a mile a minute to Steve.

He pulled back so he could see Chrissy's face. “What do you mean, Chris?”

“This, you having to run away from home and hide here. I should have known better than to come to your house last night. I should have known he’d follow me.”

“Wait, I thought, the fire- “ Eddie began, looking up to lock eyes with Hopper as he finally caught up to the group. “I thought this had something to do with the lab?”

“We’ll get to that in a bit but that's not why I gave you the signal to run. Jason Carver has been running around town all morning telling anyone who will listen that he saw Steve Harrington with you last night. That you’re the one who kidnapped him and have been holding him captive ever since. He also said you brainwashed his girlfriend and took Billy Hargrove prisoner. He thinks the D&D club at school is a front for your devil worshiping cult, and unfortunately there's a lot of small minded people in this town that want to believe him.”

“Fuck.”

Chapter 12

Thanks forever to @penny00dreadful for being the best friend, cheerleader, and beta in the whole fucking world💜

Taglist: @newtstabber @goodolefashionedloverboi @adaed5 @buckleybarnes @soaringornithopter @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @bestwifehaver @5ammi90 @sofadofax @ellietheasexylibrarian @manda-panda-monium @hardboiledleggs @mentallyundone @epiclazershark @herebedragons404 @estrellami-1 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @the-s-is-silent @brbsoulnomming @goinsteddie @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve and el sibling supremacy #good uncle wayne #chrissy cunningham #max mayfield #robin buckley #canon is just a crazy game of d&d #sort of #ao3 #steddie fic #steve x eddie

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disasterofastory · 1 year

Text

Merry night (Stucky x Reader)

Merry night Santa Claus!Steve Rogers x elf!Bucky x Reader Day 13 - Night // December 2022 Warnings: none...I mean... They kidnap Reader

Summary: And that’s how you got to the North Pole

"Are we really going to do this?" Bucky asks one last time. His words fade into the dark night in white puffs. "We talked about this," Steve replies with a curt nod. "Or you changed your mind?" "No," Bucky shakes his head in answer. "We waited long enough for Mrs. Claus." A smirk pulls on the other man's lips. His hair is a mix of dark blonde and gray under the red hat. "Do you remember the plan?" The brunette shrugs. White snowflakes gather on the warm fabric of his green beanie. "She is asleep. It shouldn't be too difficult."

Your apartment is quiet and calm. The lights of street lamps illuminate the small place. It's full of mismatched furniture, books, and holiday decorations. A wooden reindeer on the shelf, a small Christmas tree in the corner, and soft pillows and blankets on the couch with winter patterns all over them. "It's cute," Bucky smiles, shaking a snow globe he picked up from the coffee table. "She is cute." "She is," Steve hums, flicking a golden ornament on the tree. It rocks back and forth with the man's reflection on it. "We should hurry. The others are already waiting for us." They make their way to your room, where you lay asleep in the middle of the bed. The warm blanket covers your body, and your hair is a mess on the pillows.

For long seconds, they do nothing. Their eyes roam over your sleeping form with a slight smile on their lips. "Are you sure she won't wake up?" Bucky asks. His voice vibrates in the quietness, making you turn on your side. "How do you think I deliver the presents every year without waking everyone up?" "Sometimes they wake up," he reasons with a mocking grimace. "But they think they are dreaming." "Fine," Bucky sighs, leaning above your bed to sneak his arms under your back and knee. He lifts you up easily with the blanket still over your body. Your head falls against his chest. "Okay," Bucky breathes out after making sure you are still asleep. He has to force himself to tear his eyes away from your face. "We can go."

When the two men get back up to the roof, the reindeer are impatient and ready to go. You stay on the brunette's lap while Steve grabs the reins to urge them to move. Within seconds, they are in the air, flying up to the clouds. Cold sweeps over them, and Bucky pulls the cover tighter around your relaxed body. "She will be so happy with us."

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #stucky x reader #stucky imagine #december 2022

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biteofcherry · 2 years

Note

Okay but how alpha steve react to his omega going out with the girls and getting completely drunkkkk? Does she mouth of to him? Is she all cute with him?

Well, first, if his omega is going out with the girls, she gets an extra girl to party with - aka Natasha. However, despite what Steve thinks is protection, Nat is actually a great companion and shenanigans enabler 😂

Omega reader doesn't get completely drunk (she doesn't do well with a hangover and her body really awfully reacts to too much alcohol), but she gets quite tipsy and loses some inhibitions.

A tiny thing under the cut 😉

"Everything's fine," Natasha assured Steve over the phone when he called after midnight to check on them - on his omega, as if she was a Cinderella about to disappear into trouble.

"These girls know how to look out for each other. And some of them could outdrink Thor." She added, grinning. She had fun with you and your girls.

Steve was about to reply when he heard your voice. Music in the background drowned it at first, but it became clearer, meaning you had to be approaching Nat.

"Is that him?" He heard you ask.

"Yep." Nat answered. Then he heard his friend's laugh and some shuffling, before your voice came through the phone - so clear now.

And a little slurry.

"You're bossy!" You huffed.

“Am I?” He asked in a tone that always made you pause for a second to assess how mean he’d be if you pushed.

“Yeah.” This time you answered immediately. “You sent Nat with us, who I’m pretty sure broke a dude’s fingers after he touched my back when passing by. She actually forbade Mira from going outside with some frat boy, which is actually a good thing I think. He looked douchey. Wait. What was I about?”

Steve had to stifle a chuckle at your tipsy blabbering.

“Oh, yeah, you’re bossy!” Your train of thought returned on the main track. “So you sent in lethal Nat, but you’re still pushing your... your tall an’ big... a-and hot piece of ass to- to control me! I don’t like you controling me, you stupidly hot, bossy alpha!”

“Don’t you now?” Steve hummed.

He rather disagreed. Granted, you still occasionally fought him when he pushed you on a daily basis, but when it came to sex you burst strongest when he took full control.

“I don’t.” You repeated, then hiccuped.

"Nat's to take you to my place when you're done. We'll see what you say then." Steve's voice remained calm, making his threat sound rather playful.

"I'm gon' say Drop your pants and serve me." You announced, lifting your finger and pointing into the space in front of you then down. Completely unawere Steve couldn't see it.

Steve's laughter boomed through the phone.

Your heart fluttered happily in your chest at the sound. Bu your eyebrows drew together in a frown, indignant that he didn't take your order seriously.

"Tell you what, sweet brat," Steve countered, "If you don't fall asleep the moment your drunk head hits the pillow, I will serve you any way you want."

A little gasp left your lips. Your head filled with images of Steve’s face buried between your thighs; of his fingers stretching you; of his gorgeous cock hard and red and leaking, pushing inside.

“Or-” Steve purred, causing you to shudder, “maybe you’d like for me to come there, sweep you off the dance floor and fuck your sweet, tight cunt in the club’s restroom?”

#guess which option it's gonna be 😏#grain of truth #alpha steve rogers x omega reader #steve rogers x reader #drabble #Anonymous #reply

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spideystevie · 2 years

Note

Hii!! Could u write prompt no. 18 hectic mornings when you need to be somewhere and you’re rushing around each other?

Maybe they had a fight the night before and while rushing around each other getting ready they have awkward eye contact and blocking each others way unintentionally.

hi sweets! didn’t really go the fight way but i hope this suffices <3 (0.8k)

19. hectic mornings when you need to be somewhere and you’re rushing around each other

The sky was in a foul mood last night. A complete downpour, fat raindrops beating hard against the windows of your shared place. Flashes of light illuminated the rooms every few minutes, the sky rolling and cracking. Wind whipped by making the trees outside bend with the force.

You had double checked twice last night that the alarm was set. You both had an early shift the next morning, something that didn’t happen all that often. With the storm and weather the way it was, you were surprised you’d even managed to fall asleep last night.

The sun rises in the morning painting the world in warm oranges and golden yellows. Birds are chirping and early morning dew clings to the grass outside. Were it not for the damp asphalt and earthy smell in the air, there’d be no hint of the storm the night before.

A beam of sunlight hits you in the face, effectively waking you. You stir, legs stretching as best they can mixed with Steve’s. His arms tense around you, his nose and hair tickling the back of your neck.

Your face scrunches up and when you hear the birds singing outside the bedroom window your eyes shoot open. An urgency shoots down your spine intermingling with a deep panic that sinks in your chest. The clock on the bedside table flashes at you, 12:00 blaring at you almost mockingly.

“Shit,” you push at Steve’s arms around your waist, detangling yourself from him. The sheets are thrown off you in a haste and you twist to look for the watch around Steve’s wrist. 8:23. “Shit. Fuck. Steve.”

He grumbles, head pushed into the pillow. You drop his arm, shaking his shoulder to rouse him out of bed.

“Steve, c’mon you need to get up.”

“No,” he groans. “Steve, I'm serious, we’re going to be late.”

“Wha’ time’s it?” he lifts his head, pillow creases on his cheeks and hair mussed. His voice is thick with sleep, rough around the edges. He looks so endearing, sleepy and soft and you wish you could spare an extra five minutes in bed with him.

“After 8, now c’mon get up.”

He shoots up in bed, scrambling to get out of bed and almost tripping over himself in the process. “Jesus Christ, how’d we miss the alarm?”

“The power must’ve gone out last night,” you fling an arm towards the blinking reset alarm clock on the table, hurrying into the en-suite bathroom. You don’t even wait for the water to warm up before you’re hopping into the shower, certain you’re breaking a record for fastest shower ever. Especially one that Steve joins minutes before you’re getting out.

You don’t have time to make faces at him while you brush your teeth together, towels still wrapped around your body. Water is dripping onto the tile floor from your hair and legs.

You’re dropping your towel to get dressed by the dresser and Steve’s too focused on not being late to really notice. He tosses you a pair of jeans from the closet and you throw him a pair of underwear from the top drawer.

He’s still tugging a shirt over his head, vision obscured momentarily and yours getting distracted by his bare torso. Distractions you don’t have time for when you bump into each other trying to get into the bathroom at the same time.

It’s the fastest you’ve ever seen Steve do his hair in the morning before work. In full confidentiality, he just ran a comb through it and mussed it with his fingers but the thought of seeing him stock tapes with your favorite style of his hair makes you smile.

“Do we have time for coffee?” you say, a swipe of strawberry chapstick on your lips while Steve brushes your hair for you. He purses his lips.

“I’ll start it right now,” he says. He presses the chastest of kisses against your lips, more so hitting the corner of your mouth than anything. A hint of strawberry from your chapstick lingers on his lips. “We’re already late, what’s a few minutes more!”

His voice carries down the hall and into the kitchen. You laugh, praying to anyone out there that this doesn’t get you fired.

Steve waits by the door with his shoes on, two travel mugs in his hands. You shove your foot into one shoe, holding the other in your hand and succumbing to just putting them on properly in the car.

You open the front door, grabbing Steve’s keys and wallet by the door on the way out. You don’t breathe properly until you’re in the car going a little bit over the limit on the way to work and the first taste of coffee made just the way you like from Steve hits your tongue.

allie's writing celebration!

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #📝: a writes!#allie's writing celebration

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underoossss · 2 years

Text

sleepless night - s.h

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

warnings: none just pure fluff

an: i wrote this little blurb for y’all to enjoy. have some softness, have some cute boyfriend!steve. let me know if y’all enjoy it, i hope you do! this didn’t show up in the tags the first time so I’m going to try again. so if you read this already, thank you.

——-

The night is still cool around you as your eyes stare at the window. Steve’s chest rises and falls steadily, you can feel it from where you lie your head on top of his chest. Minutes, maybe hours, seem to pass by as you try every other technique you had read about to fall back asleep. You had counted backwards from 100 to 1, and instantly gave up when you reached 50 and realized you weren’t getting drowsy at all. Then you tried not thinking about falling asleep which made the ordeal even harder. Lastly you had kept your eyes set on the window, hoping the soft movement from the tree branches outside would lull you into your previous slumber.

It has been this way for more than a couple of weeks, you wake up around 3am and can’t get yourself to fall asleep again.

The tree branches keep moving, their shadow decorates the bedroom’s floor thanks to the full moon outside, but no matter how hard you try to relax and sleep you can’t. You move away from Steve and settle yourself on your back. You can only stare at the ceiling for a few seconds before you change your position, remembering how you can’t ever fall asleep on your back either.

With a soft sigh, you give up on sleep altogether, deciding instead to continue reading your new book in the living room. Steve has an early morning shift later, he needs all the sleep he can get. If you keep moving around in bed you’re most likely going to wake him up. You keep the lights off as you make your way to the living room, only turning on the lamp next to the couch. It’s soft and warm, perfect for reading, and hopefully getting through some chapters will get you to fall asleep. Though you’re not entirely sure it’ll happen.

You make yourself comfortable with your book and a blanket, settling back on the armrest with a few pillows and opening your dog-eared page. A few sentences in, you manage to fall head first into the story, growing more and more curious about the heroine’s long awaited decision. She needs to choose between love and duty, and she’s struggling to find a way to have both…

Footsteps down the hall make you look up from your book, head turning to the right and toward the end of the hallway. Steve appears, looking soft and sleep rumpled. Grey sweatpants hang low on his hips, his chest bare to the cool night breeze coming in from the kitchen’s window. His hair is a mess, sticking out in different places —it endears you beyond words.

“Baby?” Steve’s voice is rough from sleep as he squints looking at you. “Can’t sleep?”

“No.” You shake your head, frowning slightly. “Did I wake you?”

Steve makes his way towards you, a yawn escapes his lips. “‘Couldn’t find you in bed. Came looking for you.” He sits on the couch, and places one of his hands on your leg. It moves from your ankle to your knee in a repeated motion. “Missed you.”

“At least one of us had to get a good night’s sleep.” You chuckle, placing your book on top of your stomach –all your attention towards him. “All my tossing and turning would have woken you... I guess I did anyway.”

“Woke up because I missed you.” Steve shakes his head, eyes still heavy with sleepiness and soft smile on his face. “What can I say, my baby’s got me wrapped around her finger.”

“Hmm, I can say the same about you.” You smile at him, chest swelling with warmth. You thought you would get used to this –the domesticity that came with living together– but every day it pulls at your heartstrings just the same. It’s always comfortable, it’s always beautiful, it makes your feelings grow unmeasurably. Your body bends slightly at the waist as you reach out to push some of his hair away from his face, fingers lingering in the back of his neck for a moment.

Steve’s eyes drift to your smiling lips and back to your eyes again, leaning in closer. “Come here.” He whispers.

The space between the two of you disappears as Steve moves close you, his lips capturing yours in a soft press of lips. Your lips part slightly and Steve angles his face just right to kiss you again, catching your bottom lip between his.

“I love you.” You whisper. “Even more when your hair is a mess.”

You feel Steve’s laugh briefly against your lips before he’s leaning back and away. He grabs a throw pillow from the other side of the couch and holds up the blanket that’s currently covering your body.

“Scoot over a bit, yeah?” He mumbles. “I can’t sleep without you anymore.”

You comply with a hushed laugh of your own, moving closer to the edge and making yourself comfortable while Steve tries to do the same by your side. He sets the pillow down by your abdomen and lies down on his side, dropping the blanket over himself and your legs. His right arm drapes itself across your waist and one of his legs settles over yours. He hums in content, eyes closing with his lingering sleepiness as he drops a kiss on top of your pajamas.

It’s quiet for a few minutes, the two of you enjoying the stillness of the night and the warmth the other provides. You’re almost sure Steve fell back asleep but he speaks up once more.

“I’m sorry you can’t sleep lately.” He moves his hand so he can draw shapes on your belly, on top of your sleep shirt. His voice is muffled slightly by the soft cotton material. “Wish I could help.”

“I know, Stevie.” You whisper, heart warming at his care. He always showers you with so much of it that you feel that you glow from the inside out sometimes. “I’ve been looking for tips, they say lavender helps.”

You feel Steve nod against your side, his brow is furrowed in concentration. “Okay, we’ll get you some lavender… is it for tea?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, fingers carding through his hair softly. “It can be for tea, there’s also soap.”

“Both then.” He yawns, cuddling closer to your side —his arm is a comfortable weight over your hips, his breath warm against the fabric covering your ribs. “Lavender tea, and soap for my baby.”

“Don’t you want to go to bed?” You ask softly, moving to stand from the couch but Steve pushes you down gently with a groan. “What?”

“Just keep reading beautiful, I’m very comfortable here.” Steve tells you, tilting his head back to look at you briefly —even sleepy, he sends a cheeky look your way. “Wrapped around your finger, remember.”

You smile softly at him and nod, pushing your fingers into his hair again as his breath starts to even out. Your hearts and breath seem to synchronize in the cool night and you pick up your book again to starts up your reading once more. You steal one last glimpse at Steve then, cuddling your body on the couch. The lamp light casts soft shadows on his face, and his lips are already parted slightly as sleep’s arms finally embrace him.

For a moment, you’re grateful for the insomnia you’re passing through, it gives you quiet moments like this. Moments often taken away from you by the sometimes hectic days and tired body that falls asleep the second it hits the mattress.

“Night, Stevie.” You smile softly at Steve and leave one of your hands on top of his as you go back to your book.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #joe keery #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic

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iveseenstrangerthings · 2 years

Text

bad dreams - a Steve Harrington imagine

summary: comfort fluff of Steve Harrington x reader where he has a nightmare and you’re there to be with him. You end up having a little chat about your future together, too. if u see my harry styles lyric reference in here then 🫶🏼

warnings: none that I can think of, possible anxiety.

word count: 1.1k

note: I couldn’t find a GIF to go with this one but I wrote this pretty quickly so I hope it's okay!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had taken you ages to fall asleep, you had re-adjusted your pillow, pulled the blanket back as you felt too hot, tried counting your breaths… whereas for Steve sleep came to him like it would a baby. He fell sound asleep pretty much as soon as his head hit the pillow, and you silently cursed him for it. Surprisingly, he’s stayed asleep through all your tossing and turning, you even accidentally hit him with your pillow as you were moving it. You look at the clock on your bedside table, squinting through the darkness to make out the slight, black clock hand pointing to what you can make out as the one, but you can’t see the minute hand so all you know is that it’s around one o’clock. You rest yourself back down onto your pillows and close your eyes, forcing yourself to match your breaths with Steve’s deep, sleepy breathing. For a while it works, your body relaxes into the mattress and your breathing starts to slow into a sleepy lull. Your thoughts and consciousness seem to drift ever so slowly away, like a picture burning at the edges. Albeit you were more relaxed, you weren’t fully asleep yet, only dosing, just waiting for the transition into deep sleep to come soon. However, you’re soon jolted back into full awareness when Steve sits bolt upright. You turn yourself to face him, but in the darkness his figure is masked. What was calm breathing a few minutes ago has now turned rapid and unsteady. You know he will’ve had an unpleasant dream; they have been fairly frequent since everything that had happened with Vecna. You sit up and place your hand on his back, slowly rubbing it back and forth.

“You’re okay. I’m here.” You keep your voice quiet and steady, your worry for him would only make things worse. “Want me to turn a little light on?”

He starts to nod his head then realises you can’t see him, “Yes, please.” So, with your other hand you turn to your bedside cabinet and flick on your lamp with a small click, and then the room is illuminated by a soft, yellow glow. Not too bright as your bulb has started to weaken. You can feel his body shaking ever so slightly with adrenaline and he’s trying so hard to calm himself down, so you reach across to your nightstand and get your glass of water to pass to him. “Have a drink, sweetie.” As you hand him the lukewarm glass of water you keep a hand on his bare arm which is radiating heat. He takes a few deep gulps, then passes you the glass back. Taking his thumb to the corner of his mouth he gives it a wipe and then turns to look at you. His eyes still look heavy with tiredness whereas yours are wide awake. You shuffle down slightly in the bed so you’re half sitting up and then open your arms to him. “Come here.” He follows your command and brings himself down to lean into your body, his head resting just on top of your chest where he likes to hear the beating of your heart, especially after a nightmare. You close your arms around him and bring one hand up to his hair, running a few fingers lazily through it and across his scalp. A few minutes pass by with the soft tick tock of the clock, his breathing calming down and then he brings his hand up to hold your arm. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

You half laugh, “I was already awake, sort of. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.” You change the direction in which your fingers are tracing through his hair. “I can’t wait for the nights where I don’t have these anymore.”

You feel a pang of sorrow for him and hold him tighter, “I know, but you’re okay. They’re not real, you’re safe.”

“No, I know you’re right.”

He doesn’t like to do chit chat straight after he has a nightmare, so you respect this and just let him breathe it out, he just appreciates you being there for him. After about ten minutes, he starts to sit up out of your arms. “I think it’ll be okay to knock the light off now.”

“Sure.” You reply and flick the light off, so the room falls back into darkness. The pair of you take a few seconds to get comfy, entangling yourself within one another. Your legs cross each other and Steve’s head rests itself back on top of your chest.

You’d just closed your eyes and started to think about falling asleep when Steve speaks, “Do you ever think of our future?”

You open your eyes but are just met with darkness, your brows knit together in confusion at the sudden question, “I guess I do. Do you?”

“I do. I think about it more now after everything that’s happened. It all made me realise just how much I want a future with you.” Where’s all this coming from?! You don’t really care though. “I can’t imagine not being with you.”

You rest your cheek onto his head and take a deep breath in, “I like to picture our house.” You admit, not embarrassingly.

“Oh yeah? Can you describe it to me?”

“Okay well, I think our first house will just be a nice, small one. Just the right size for us two, nothing too fancy, y’know? I do want a porch, with a porch swing, though. I can just imagine us sitting there, on summer nights just relaxing and catching up after work, swinging, chatting and laughing.” His hand that’s placed on your side lifts slightly and his fingertips start tracing idly back and forth. “It would have a nice garden, big enough to have people over. It would just be our home. You know? And then… when we have kids, we would have to move so we had more space, but we’d always remember our first little home together.”

He stays silent for a few minutes, and you think you’ve sent him to sleep when he lifts his head off your chest, “You want us to have kids?” His voice raises ever so slightly at the end.

“Well, yeah, I do. Obviously not yet.” You laugh and he returns it, “But of course I do.”

His hand moves from your side and finds its way to your cheek, “I love your point of view on everything, it’s so delicate. I love you.” he kisses you softly.

You kiss him back slowly, placing your hand onto the side of his neck, when you pull away you reply, “I love you too.” You both get comfy again and settle back into the pillows, ready for sleep. Within a few minutes, your breathing has slowed and become deeper with every breath you take, as has Steve’s. This time, sleep comes just as easily to both of you as you fall asleep thinking of everything yet to come.

#stranger things imagine #stranger things blurbs #stranger things preferences #stranger things imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington angst #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington imagine #masterlist

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sunshinesteviee · 1 year

Note

Congrats on 8k !!! For 'Everywhere everything' one of my favourite songs of all time is 'nothing' by Bruno major !! "There's nothing like doing nothing with you" literally just soft domestic Steve <33

hi love!! thank you so much! and i'm so sorry this took me a bit, i hope you like it!! it didn't exactly turn out how i wanted it to but i think it's ok still lol

There are so many things you love about living with Steve. You balance each other out in so many ways; he likes cooking (it makes you want to pull your hair out), and you like doing laundry (he can’t fold things nicely for the life of him). He never leaves without giving you a kiss and telling you how much he loves you. Every night you fall asleep safe in his arms. Your favorite thing about living with him, though, are the times you do nothing together. The moments after doing chores all day, or getting home from work, when you can collapse onto the couch and just be with him.

Steve is sprawled out on the cushions on his back, one arm tucked behind his head on the pillows, and one of his legs bent up but nearly falling off of the couch. Your position is similar, though half of your body is laying over Steve’s; a leg hitched up around his waist, an arm tucked around his torso, your ear pressing to his chest just above his heart.

Your apartment is quiet, save for the soft music that you’d been listening to while cleaning. It’d been playing at full volume while cleaning, but you’d turned it down when you’d finished for the day. Steve’s heartbeat is steady beneath you as he lets out a huge yawn, shaking his head slightly in an attempt to wake himself up, “Cleaning wears me out.”

Laughing softly, you angle your head to look at him, the tip of your nose rubbing against his jaw, “Oh, is that why you leave your clothes all over the floor?”

He gasps, an indignant sound, and presses his hand into the small of your back lightly to let you know he’s just joking as he replies, “Rude!” His fingers search down for the hem of your shirt and push up into your skin once he finds it, fingertips tracing up the length of your spine.

“Kidding, baby,” you murmur with a giggle, tilting your chin up to kiss his jaw. “We don’t have anything else to do today. We can just lay here.”

“Perfect, ‘cause I’m not planning on letting you up.” His arm tightens around your middle, his fingers splaying over your skin, as if to prove his point, and plants a kiss to your hairline.

“Fine by me, bub.” You settle back into Steve’s side, fingertips tracing small shapes into the fabric of his shirt. “I love doing nothing with you.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, lifting his head up from the pillow so he can actually see you, the corners of his lips tugging up with the hint of a smile.

“Yeah,” you affirm, returning the smile as you shift up onto an elbow to see his face more clearly. “Of course. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.”

Steve grins, a bright light in the dark of your living room, thanks to the setting sun. The hand that had been behind his head moves to cup your cheek gently, “Me too. Could do nothing with you forever.”

His palm is warm against your face, and the drag of his thumb over your cheekbone has you leaning into his touch with a content hum, your eyes fluttering shut, “Forever. I like the sound of that.” Truthfully, if this was forever, you wanted nothing more.

“Mhm,” Steve nods, drawing your face in towards his so he can place another kiss to your forehead, “Forever. Just you and me, baby.”

You can barely take the softness with which he says it, and your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as your eyes squeeze together tightly. His hand shifts on your face so his thumb can reach your nose, and it traces down the bridge lightly. He taps the tip of your nose and then drops his hand down, brushing his thumb over your lips, causing your eyes to flicker open. The look he’s giving you is slightly mischievous, and you can’t help but grin as his thumb presses into your chin, fingers hooking underneath to close the space between the two of you, his lips pressing to yours firmly.

Your heart races in your chest as you kiss him back, your hand traveling on its own accord to Steve’s hair, the soft strands sifting through your fingers. His arm around your waist pulls at you until you’re more or less laying on top of him, and he breaks the kiss with a gasping breath, the tip of his nose rubbing against yours, “Love you so much.”

A soft laugh escapes as you press another soft peck to Steve’s lips, “I love you, too, baby. Really like this version of doing nothing, by the way.”

join the celebration!!!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington #8k celebration

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sailing-through-hawkins · 10 months

Note

hi!! hope your day was good!!! siren!kas for me pleaseeee <33

hello friend!!! thank you and i hope your day was grand as well (≧∇≦)ﾉ one order of siren!kas coming up:

"You're gonna be okay," Dustin tells him right before they fall asleep. Steve looks up at him from the floor where he lays, couch pillows doing more for his back than training ever did. "You'll be fine."

"'Course I will, dude," Steve smiles at him as Mrs Henderson leaves the room to talk to Hopper one last time. Tews is curled up on the bed, purrs loud and lulling Steve's thoughts into a calm. "If the giant flesh monster couldn't get us, no way some wrinkly old naked guy will."

Dustin laughs outrageously at that and Steve wants to coo, wants to cry, wants to grip Dustin tightly in his arms and hide him away from the world, hide them all away in this empty house and make it full, make it safe for them, for Max, for Robin.

He doesn't.

When Steve sleeps, he dreams.

It's so cold around him, so dark and empty. The sky thunders red and the cries of so many monsters echo around him. But there, through the cold and the shadows and the monsters, there's the song, calling to him.

I'm here, he thinks as he trudges his way through the inky mass of thick liquid, not water, not blood, but enough of each to make his steps heavy. I'm coming.

The song curls up on his skin, on his bat bites, soft and sweet and cold, like that time Robin spilled ice cream all over the -

"Steve!"

Robin. Where's - where's Robin?

Shh, it's okay. She's fine. Everyone's fine. Keep going.

Oh, he thinks. Of course. Everyone's okay, he knows they are, right?

Steve pauses his next step.

Right?

The song is even lonelier now and he shakes off the questions clouding his mind. It croons to him, elated as he makes it through the ink to the shore. He's crawling at this point, body heavy with the weight, until the song lifts him up onto his knees and he looks up to see -

"Snap out of it!"

Steve gasps at the sting on his cheek, blinking when light hits his eyes fiercely, shapes and sounds moving before him from a distance. There's a buzzing coiling behind his ears.

"Steve?"

Dustin's terrified face finally comes into focus behind his mother, who is standing right in front of Steve with her arm stretched across her. Steve blinks again. "Hold on, did you just slap me?"

"I'm so sorry, Steve," Mrs Henderson says and just like Argyle, she seems to really mean it. Her outstretched hand rests on his forehead as the other grips his upper arm. His back aches. His torso burns. "We were so scared, you weren't saying anything -"

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

They both deny it vehemently. "Of course not! You were just - staring. Out the window. At -"

"At the pool." Steve hisses when the pain starts to build up, crawling and clawing from his waist to his chest to his shoulders to his head. "Fuck, fuck -"

"Steve?" Dustin whimpers and he aches, he aches, he aches.

He screams.

#i really do want to make this into a long fic one day #but alas for now #we get fast paced scenes instead #still this is my pride and joy so thank you for asking about it #au content: kas!eddie #sailor✧replies #sailor✧writes #wip game #sailing✧siren!kas

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targetf0rce · 10 months

Text

Transfering this from my twitter! NSFW Stoncy! I am working on making this a full on fic and not a drabble but im very burnt out rn Pairing: Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler Rating: Mature Tags: Smut, Fluff, Bottom Steve, Switch Jonathan, Top Nancy, Future fic Jonathan returns late to their flat, its dark outside while the city is still alive. He quietly creeps into their home because they tend to sleep early due to work.

He enters the main bedroom and finds steve laid on his back, naked on top of the sheets. His head in the pillow and he could make out the dopey, content look he gets on his face from getting fucked out.

Nancy is perched on him, her thighs bracketing Steve's, Jon can tell shes wearing a strap on and its buried deep in Steve due to the bulge of his abdomen and his hard dick that has been leaking all over his stomach. For long enough that its even dried there too. He can swear that he can see it on his chest too, and on Nancy.

She's not thrusting into it. Just holding it in him while he lazily smiles at her. Sometimes Steve got this way where he wanted to be full and warm on the inside. He was a massive suckler for cock-warming and would fall asleep like that, even if he halfheartedly complains about his arse aching afterwards.

Jonathan approached their bed, melting at the way Steve's sleepy eyes would shift to his and were filled with such emotion. He whined at him softly and reached his hands out towards him while Nancy giggled.

"Use your words, Steve." She chided lightly.

"Kiss, please?" He voiced softly and Jonathan couldn't refuse.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against Steve's. Shuddering when his hands grabbed the collar of his shirt to guide him. Those soft plump lips parting as Jonathan kissed at him hungrily while he could feel Nance kissing at his shoulder and nape.

When he felt Steve trying to stick his tongue in his mouth he pulled away, their breathing laboured as they gazed at each other. Steve's eyes half lidded and his lips kiss swollen.

Steve whined for him desperately and tightened the hold on his collar

"Steve, you look tired." Jon urged softly.

"Want you too though."

Jonathan had to ignore the twitch of his dick at his words and shook his head.

"You've already got Nance. You can't have me too."

"'ve got a mouth." He stated with big puppy eyes. And honestly, he was weak for him. He couldn't help but crumple.

"I'm sure Steve can be a good boy for us both, can't you?"

He nodded happily at that, his smile growing a little as hands hovered around the fly of his jeans. Not undoing them yet until Jonathan stated he could, but waiting patiently.

"Okay. But I want you to pat my waist or thigh if you want me to pull out okay?"

Steve nodded, tenderly unbuttoning his jeans for him. His eyes on Jon's too detect any little change in his comfort and demeanour. He must have not found anything as he gently slipped down his boxers to free his cock and licked at the head softly. Jonathan couldn't help but moan at his tongue lapping at him, before slowly slipping his dick into his mouth. He rested a hand on the shaft to help guide it in for Steve and smiled softly at the guttural hum he made in contentment.

"Look at him, he's such a good boy, keeping us so well in him." Nancy cooed.

He couldn't miss the muffled moan and slow shut off his eyes at her praise. He knew Steve was content and safe. Happy and warm. Their boyfriend slowly drifting off to gentle praises and comforting touches. Their bodies hot and close in a warm intimacy. Steve gradually fell asleep with a Jonathan's dick down his throat and Nance's strap on in his ass.

Jonathan pulled out from his mouth and gently wiped his face and body clean with wipes for him. Taking care with cleaning up their baby boy.

Nancy stayed in him, but she shifted to lay on Steve. Her head resting in the crook of his neck, while Jonathan settled beside them both, snuggling up to Steve as Nancy wrapped an arm around him. Jon couldn't ask for more in his life, he's happy.

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randomblog444 · 1 year

Text

Survivors guilt

Eddie Munson x reader

Tw: Eddie’s death, mentions of injuries, pure angst, not proofread

„It’s my year, it’s finally my year“

„No Eddie please, it’ll be fine, stay with me“

„I love you baby“

She woke up with a scream, tears already streaming down her cheeks. This was the first sleep she has gotten since he died. The pictures of his bleeding body, burned into her mind. It has been two weeks, she hasn’t talked to anybody, barely eaten. Everything she does reminding her of the long haired boy she failed to save.

He did it to save her, he knew, in order to let her live, he must sacrifice himself. „For you, I would do anything, even die“ he told her many times before. Guilt filling up her stomach, remembering those words, she heard so often.

Her friends came over many times, trying to help her with her grief, but she wouldn’t move or say anything. Yesterday Steve came over, cooked her a meal, cleaned her room, just talked to her. Meanwhile she was fixated on that small hole, the boys she lost accidentally put in her wall just weeks ago.

„Babe I am so sorry“ he said looking with puppy eyes at her. „What happened“ she said, just coming back from the bathroom. Following his eyes she saw the thing that made him feel so bad. A hole he punched in the wall after trying to dance to the music the both of them were listening to. „Don’t worry, I will cover it up with a poster, my parents won’t even notice“ she said and after that they both laughed over the incident.

The memory of the boy, punching a hole into her heart. Her hand finding the plug on the necklace. She wanted to rip the last gift he gave her off of her neck, throw it in the trash and with it all of the memories she had with him.

„It should have been me“ she started chanting under her breath, into the dark of her room. Repeating those words just as she did so often the past few days. Rocking back and forth on her bed, tears falling down her face as her small voice grew into screams.

The weight on her chest starting to feel as heavy as she remembered the lifeless body of her boyfriend in her arms. Her body started to shake as she suddenly felt thrown back into the scenery of the upside down.

Running into the direction of the demobat swarm. „Don’t be a hero, not today“ he said to his boys so often, why was he not living like this in a live or death situation, she asked herself. Hearing his screams in the distance, she already expected the worst. Suddenly the bats disappeared into the red sky and out of her sight.

Seeing him laying there, his body full with blood, deep down she already knew, that there was no way of saving him. Dropping down next to his body, breathless from the running, but also because she couldn’t catch her breath looking at him. She stayed there, next to him, clutching at his side, not bothering to pay attention to her surroundings.

Dustin was there as well, his poor heart breaking at the sight of two of the most important people in his life on the floor. He didn’t know what to do, he stood there as he cried in silence and listened to the screams the poor girl let out every few moments.

She fought as Steve picked her up and carried her away from Eddie’s lifeless body. „Let me stay, he can take me too, I don’t care“ she screamed as she hammered against his chest. And it was true, she didn’t care. Deep down still hoping that Vecna would curse her, and take her soul to meet her lover again.

After her breathing calmed down, she laid down on her bed again, still crying into her pillow. Falling asleep from exhaustion again a few minutes later, her body wanting to give her the rest she needed.

And there he was again, but this time he wasn’t covered in blood, or laying lifeless on the floor. He was just standing there, her boy. Stretching her hands out into the direction of him as she couldn’t believe her eyes. Both of them crashing into each other, him holding her tight in her arms. „I am sorry Baby, but you need to move on“ he whispered into her ear. „I know, you think you can’t do it, but you’re so strong“. She tried to tell herself it was just a dream, even though, it felt like reality. „You need to live your life“, he said as he pulled away, „do it for me, please“

His words drifting away as his body disappeared in the distance of her dream. She woke up again, this time without screaming or crying. Still feeling like shit, she decided to stand up and get some water. He was right, she needs to live for him, she thought as she made her way downstairs.

5:10 am the clock in her kitchen said, she poured herself a big glass of water and chugged it immediately. Today when her friends would come over, she would try to talk, knowing that the words her lost lover said to her in her dreams, wouldn’t cure the feeling of guilt and anger. But she wanted to at least try and not give up without a fight. She decided that now it was the time to be a hero, be Eddie’s hero.

And somewhere far away, but somehow still close, there was Eddie, looking out for her with a smile. She was a hero, his little hero.

Someday, sooner or later, they would be reunited in a life after death, but until then, she lived her life as best as she could. She only did it for him, feeling like she at least owed him that.

#eddie munson #Eddie Munson ff #eddie munson fem!reader #Eddie Munson fanfic #Eddie Munson x reader #fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things ff #stranger things Eddie Munson #stranger things season 4 #stranger things angst #Eddie Munson angst #Angst

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roguelov · 2 years

Text

Like Real People Do

Summary: Still grieving the loss of your love, Eddie Munson, you prayed for him to come back to you. You just never expected it to be like this. He was alive. But, at a cost. He was a thing. It didn’t matter. You could fix him, you have to, you needed to get your Eddie back

Word Count: ~5k

Reader: Gender Neutral

Warnings: Angst, grief, body horror/mutilation

Notes: Concept art of Eddie here, more parts to come!

“Eddie!”

His high pitched screams resonated. It was only cut off by the gurgling as he choked on his own blood. You clambered after him, screaming and crying. You were almost at his side. You almost had him, you almost saved him. Your eyes jumped up. The dark swarm of bats circled. They screeched - no, cackled. They were enjoying this.

You reached a hand out. A useless attempt. His body was miles and miles away. No matter how much you ran, no matter how much you begged, no matter what you did, he was too far away.

The bats screeched and descended.

You screamed.

You shot up in your bed, screaming. You kicked off the sheets as you scrambled forward. Eddie. You fell off, hitting the floor.

The heavy thud jerked you out of your nightmare.

Sprawled out on your back, your chest heaved, breathing in short, quick bursts. Your heart and brain raced in tandem. Each pumped your body full of adrenaline, ready to fight or flee, only to understand the issue wasn’t real. Or at least, it was merely a warped memory. A distorted nightmare.

You sniffled. Your bottom lip trembled. You dug the heel of your palms into your eyes as the tears poured out.

It had been more than a week. Possibly two, maybe longer. But, who’s to say? Time passed differently when you grieved. Seconds were hours, and days were months.

But, in the end, it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter because he left.

He left you.

Eddie ran off, even after he swore he wasn’t going to be a hero. But, he lied. And it cost him his life.

You let out a silent scream, thrashing around. How could he? Why? Why would he do that?

Of course, you already knew the answer: to protect, to not run away or be a coward. Who knows what would have happened if he didn’t. Would the demobats have flooded into Hawkins? Would you, Dustin, and Eddie have all died?

Then again, it didn’t matter.

Vecna still won in the end. The gates were opened. People rushed out of town, while some stayed. You were among the many who stayed. To be honest, you didn’t really have a life outside of Hawkins.

This was all you know.

All you had. Just you, this trailer, and your friends.

You exhaled loudly.

Your throat was raw. Itchy and dry. Your tears dried up, for now. Picking yourself up, you meagerly crawled back into bed. You threw the sheets over your head, blocking out the world, and cradled a pillow. The pillow in particular had a rough material wrapped around it.

Eddie’s vest.

Steve was kind enough to give it to you once everything settled down a bit.

You buried your head, inhaling deeply. It still smelled like him. It smelled like his soap, a warm spice, mixed with the saltiness of sweat. It smelled like the Hideout, like his room, like a night under the stars when he played you a song, like years layered upon each other, like home. You bitterly wondered how long it would last.

But instead of drowning in the present reality, you let your mind drift. You let yourself believe it was him. It was you and him in bed as you snuggled into his chest. It was easy. He already haunted your every waking second.

A phantom hand rested over your shoulder pulling you in closer. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

It was Eddie, his voice soft and soothing.

“Just … just a nightmare,” you mumbled into the vest.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” he cooed.

“Yeah … I know.” You squeezed the pillow tighter, falling asleep to the ghost of your love.

Unfortunately, the gaping hole ripped out of your heart couldn’t be filled. Your friends -Steve, Robin, and Nancy - tried. God, they tried. They constantly checked on you. They tried to get you to move around, to talk, to eat, but you could barely do that. You would nibble on the meals they brought sometimes, you gave short answers, and the most you would do was roll over from one side of the bed to the other and walk to the bathroom.

And they even sacrificed their time. They stayed over whether all of them or just one. All to keep a close eye on you, care for you. They even held and comforted you as you screamed yourself awake from all the horribly terrifying nightmares.

But, they started to drift away.

You didn’t blame them. Your friends had their own families to worry about, they had other priorities. Not to mention, Hawkins was a bizarre news attraction now. The ‘earthquakes’ drove citizens away but brought along news vans and twisted tourists. All the while, those few who knew the truth sat on pins and needles anticipating when Vecna would attack.

To be honest, you liked it better. You liked the isolation.

You hated the hush murmurs from your living room, you hated the pitiful looks, you hated how they walked on eggshells around you, you hated how they didn’t even say Eddie’s name as if one mention would somehow shatter the pieces that were already broken.

So their daily visits became every other day to now every two or three days.

Yet, an odd feeling started to build.

You knew the strange pressing feeling of eyes on the back of your head, the way the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and it was a new constant.

When your friends were here and when they left.

Someone was watching you. Someone outside of your trailer stood and watched. But, every time you opened the blinds you never saw anyone. You chalked it up to delusion, grief, and paranoia.

It, however, quickly changed one night.

In your kitchen, you grabbed a glass of water. The prickling sensation was back. You pushed back the curtains over the sink, peering out. You already anticipated nothing, anticipated the vast vacant forest surrounding your trailer.

You were wrong. A figure loomed in the tree line.

Your breath hitched. The glass fell clattering into the sink. Without thinking, you stumbled outside.

It couldn’t. No. It can’t be.

You opened your mouth to say his name, but it got lodged in your throat. It constricted, tightened, as your bottom lip began to tremble.

Hope quickly flooded your heart.

You knew it couldn’t be true, it couldn’t be him. It was probably another trick of your mind. And yet, like a weed, hope spread its infectious roots. You wanted nothing else than for it to be him. So, you chased after the illusion. Like Alice, you will follow this white rabbit into the deepest depth just to ease your curiosity and heart.

You slowly picked up your pace. Your bare feet hit the damp, dewy ground, stepping in twigs and the occasional rock. But, it did not - would not - deter you. You hissed at the spark of pain and pushed forward.

“Please,” you croaked out.

The figure, cloaked in darkness, stopped. It stood in the middle of the woods. Your home vanished behind you. No lights flickered in any direction.

The silhouette was ambiguous. Yet, one feature stood out: the head or specifically, the hair. As stupid as it can be, you recognized the hair. You knew it. You knew those curls your fingers raked through a dozen times, you knew the soft texture your nose and face buried into it, you knew how the dark woodland brown shimmered like fire in the sunlight.

You knew it.

You locked your chapped lips. “Eddie?”

The figure stayed perfectly still. It continued to face ahead. Its back to you.

Cautiously, you approached. With every step, leaves crunched and twigs snapped. Each sound was as loud as a gunshot yet, the figure never wavered, never flinched.

“Eddie, please, answer me.”

Your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. As you approached, the figure’s shape became more defined. It was a man, but he seemed to be wearing something. Like a cloak.

You kept your steady pace, inching forward. “Eddie, I -“

Your eyes widened.

Your feet wouldn’t move any closer. Nausea settled into the back of your throat. A faint whimper rumbled. Pained and disgusted.

It wasn’t a cloak. No. It was worse, so much worse.

That thing, those damned creatures who took him away from you, was now apart of him.

A demobat, stretched and elongated, covered his back. Its jaw unhinged and buried its face, almost its whole head, into the base of his neck. Its torn, battered, wings and grotesque appendages flowed down his back like a twisted regal cape. It curled around his upper arms clasped in place by digging its appendages into his arms. However, the worst was the ‘tail’. You’ve seen the demobat up close. Its rear consisted of an odd entanglement of tentacle-like appendages woven together. With its head latched onto his neck, the bat draped down his spine. But the tail? It embedded into his skin, it appeared to go into his spine, only to protrude back out a few inches later. They skimmed across the ground unmoving, just dangling.

You tore your gaze away, but the image was seared into your mind. It made your skin crawl. Bile inched up your throat only to worm its way back down. You doubled over coughing.

“Jesus H. Christ,” you whispered, or accurately whimpered.

The man peered over his shoulder. You, however, started at the ground as you uprighted yourself. Your mind tried to comprehend what you saw as you continued to battle against the lingering nausea.

He cocked his head and completely turned around. He approached you. In three easy steps.

He opened his mouth, a gurgling noise came out.

You jerked your head up, and instinctively held your breath.

The man tried again. This time it was a word, one single word. “(Y/N).”

“Eddie?” Tears prickled in your eyes.

He didn’t need to answer. It was him. Distorted, but it was your Eddie.

His eyes were a murky black. It blended into the midnight background. Inky veins, mimicking lightning, spread outward from his eyes. When he opened his mouth to speak again, his teeth, now razor sharp, somehow twinkled in the dark.

“(Y/N),” he repeated.

Your hands carefully reached towards his face. If you moved too quickly you feared he’d run off like a frightened rabbit. Or, what you truly feared, your hands would go through him. Just another illusion your broken mind conjured up. But, he didn’t move or acknowledge the gesture.

Your hand hovered an inch away. It had to be Eddie. No, it was him. He just wasn’t fully here. The upside down had a hold on him. There were so many wrongs that could happen. But, you just wanted to touch him again, to hold him. You had to know if he was real.

Taking a deep breath, you cupped his cheeks. He tensed. His skin was cold. Not icy, but a cool chill. One of your hands wandered down his chest, down his tattered Hellfire Club shirt landing over his heart.

It beat. A slow steady beat.

“It’s me, Eddie. It’s (Y/N),” you mumbled fighting back against the wave of tears.

His hand gently curled around the hand touching his heart. Long, blackened claws scraped against your skin. You shivered. He guided your hand back to his face. He closed his eyes burying his face into your palm.

“(Y/N),” he whispered in relief.

“Yeah, Eddie, it’s me. I’m right here.” The floodgates of tears broke. You smiled as tears streamed down your face. “I’m not going anywhere. Not ever again.”

Eddie opened his eyes. His brows knitted together. A frown tugged on his lips. With a clawed hand, and a soft fleeting touch, he wiped away the tears.

“I’m okay,” you sniffled. You swallowed the lump of emotions in your throat. “How about we go home, yeah?”

He stared. A deer lost in the headlights. Then, ever so slowly, he nodded.

“Good, great.”

You grabbed his hand, intertwined your fingers with his, turned about, and began retracing your steps back home. Eddie followed, dragged along by your steel grip.

In silence, the two of you walked. Tears continued to run down your face. Both in relief that he was alive and a painful sorrow of seeing what he was now. Your faint sniffling rang loudly in the quiet woods. Eddie, however, didn’t react. Didn’t say a word. He simply let you take him wherever you pleased.

Thankfully, in the distance, a porch light flickered through the maze of trees. Your porch light. You sighed in relief. You picked up pace and finally broke through the trees.

Your trailer stood in front of you.

Well.

Your’s and Eddie’s trailer.

You both worked tirelessly throughout the year hoping to pay it off soon. Eddie played at the Hideout almost every weekend night to scrap every cent together. You worked at the grocery store picking up insane hours.

And it was supposed to be a surprise.

You placed the last down payment only a few weeks ago. You started filling it with your combined things and all the essentials. It was supposed to be your new start together. A plan cultivated over a year, now completed. Expect, only you moved in. You moved into a space built, and planned for two. And the vast empty space would only suffocate you.

You tugged Eddie forward, stepping around front and inside.

You lead Eddie over to the couch. He stared at you, waiting for something. You lightly pushed on his shoulders, and he fell down, with a slight bounce, onto the creaky couch.

You stepped back.

Your red rimmed eyes finally soaked in every detail in the light.

It was horrible. Far worse in the light.

His Hellfire shirt, one you helped brainstorm and design together, was splattered in dried blood and flecked in dirt. His exposed abdomen was covered in scarring. His sides took most of the damage, riddled in bite and claw marks. You let out a shaky breath and sank to your knees in front of him. Your hands instantly touched the patches, running over the rough, warped skin, over the valleys and grooves.

Eddie didn’t flinch. He watched you curiously.

You glanced up.

His wide black eyes connected with yours. He cocked his head. His hair, covered in leaves and twigs, fell back exposing his face more. Your eyes jumped to the other scarring. Similar to his stomach, his neck was covered. One scar in particular crawled up the side of his face stopping at his cheekbone. The further you searched, you could see clearly as the appendages of the bat dug in and under his shoulder and near his collarbone. The skin inflamed and irritated, encrusted with blood too. Actually, his skin as a whole was paler than usual.

“Oh, Eddie,” you whispered.

He remained silent.

You sighed, leaning back. What were you doing? What should you do? You rubbed your temples as a headache started to throb. You were running on an empty stomach, hardly any sleep, and now the wearing effects of adrenaline.

Hands laid on top of yours. Your eyes snapped up seeing the vast inky darkness boring down at you. Eddie’s hands laid on top of yours delicately cradling your face.

He leaned in.

Your heart leapt into your throat. You couldn’t deny the fear that spiked within you.

He pressed his forehead against yours. He closed his eyes. He mumbled your name again. And strangely, it soothed you.

A smile twitched on your lips. You sniffled, “Thanks, Eddie.”

He pulled away, sitting back on the couch. His posture was stiff, almost perfectly straight. He was an odd guest in a home that should be his.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll …” you trailed off. Do what? Call someone? At this hour? Give him new clothes? With that monstrosity fused into his skin? You blew through your mouth, “I’ll get a wet rag. Let’s try to clean you up a bit.”

It was the only thing you could think of.

Standing up, you shuffled over to the kitchen grabbing a rag and running it under warm water. You walked back over and sat on the couch next to him. His eyes that followed you the whole time, turned and faced you. All the while, eerily silent.

So unlike the Eddie you knew.

You cupped his face, guiding him a little closer. You brought the rag to his face and barely touched his cheek.

A mistake.

He hissed, flailing backwards. He swiped at you furiously. You tumbled backwards onto the floor. Pain rippled through you. You bit the inside of your cheek preventing the blood curdling from escaping. Eddie scrambled off the couch, rushing into the corner behind it. He cradled his cheek, glaring at you. Yet, his intense glare, one that would frighten anyone, vanished. Vanished at one look.

Holding your cheek, you glanced over at him with tears in your petrified eyes. A bated breath was shared between the two of you. A pained heartbeat. You removed your hand. You winced. Wearily, you looked down at your palm.

Red. Blood.

Oh shit.

You sprinted over to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, you leaned towards the mirror. Four jagged lines slashed across your cheek narrowly missing your eye. It was relatively deep. But not enough for stitches. If anything, it stung intensely.

You darted around, flinging open cabinets grabbing peroxide and a small rag. You quickly cleaned it out and gently held the warm rag to your face. You sighed, leaning over the sink. Blood speckled the porcelain. You bit your bottom lip.

Fuck.

When you looked back up in the mirror, a figure stood behind you in the hallway. Eddie. He peered at you quizzically. His eyes dropped to the rag on your cheek. Realization dawned on him. He frowned.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you assured him. “It’s just a little scratch. I’ll be fine.”

He stared unconvinced.

Your lips thinned. Okay then. You spun around, dropping the rag revealing the damage he had caused. He flinched slightly. His gaze softened, ashamed of himself.

“I’m fine, Eddie, I swear. It was my mistake I shouldn’t have -“ What did you do? Was it the water? But why? Water never had an effect before it was always - oh. Fire. Temperature. The water was too warm. You knew better. Everything from the upside down liked it bitterly cold.

Things from the upside down.

Your face scrunched up in disgust. It was something you knew, but didn’t want to fully admit. Taking a deep breath, you continued, “I’m sorry it was my mistake. I should have known better - I do know better. And like I said, I swear I’m okay.”

He didn’t move. Eyes locked on his doing.

You turned back around, taking more random supplies, cotton pads and gauze to make a makeshift bandage that covered your whole cheek. It was sloppy, but it would do. You whirled around facing him again. “See? All better.”

His frown deepened. He shuffled away back into the living room.

You huffed. This wasn’t the reunion you imagined. Wait - no. You shook your head. Eddie was back. Broken, yes. But, he was back and you’ll fix him. He’ll be his old Eddie self. Hopefully.

You strolled back into the living room. He sat on the couch, on the farthest end pressed up against the armrest. He kept his gaze down. Almost to distract himself, his fingers traced over the gaudy patterns.

You cleared your throat, wanting to break the tension. “I don’t know if you remember but you picked that out.”

He glanced up.

You plopped down on the other end staring down at the mesh of floral patterns. “It was months ago. We were at a thrift store trying to find things for a house we didn’t even fully own yet. And this was in the back of the store.”

A smile crept onto your lips.

“You said it was perfect. You immediately flopped down on it in the middle of the store groaning loudly and closed your eyes. Like you were in your own home. I called you dumb or something along those lines. And you opened your eyes and pulled me down. I fell onto you and you refused to let me go.”

You looked up at him with a soft smile.

“You started whispering how this is exactly how you imagine it, both of us laying on this couch and eventually falling asleep together. And … and among other things.”

A blush wormed its way across your cheeks.

“But yeah.” You brushed off the feeling that tried to bury in your heart. “I told you no but I secretly went back the next day and paid for it. They were kind enough to hold onto it for a few months. Even cleaned it up a bit which was nice of them.”

His gaze fell back down to the couch. He continued to touch it. The fabric was worn down with a few tiny stains. It wasn’t perfect. Far from it.

He frowned.

His mind tried to sift through his memories. All of it blurry, warped. It was as if he was trying to swim through a chaotic sea. He fought, ferociously swimming. When he broke the surface, he was pulled under in seconds. The only thing clear was him: Vecna. His voice was a lullaby. An eerie siren call, enticing him and guiding him through the storm. Whatever he wished, Eddie would do without question.

But, one other fought through the storm. You. Your name alone could temporarily calm the sea. Your name was a sliver of sun bursting through the grey storm clouds.

The memory you retold was hazy to him. He could remember small bits like your laugh, the odd looks people threw at him, or how your breath hitched when he whispered sweet nothings. But, when he tried to dig deeper, the sea dragged him back under.

The memory whisked away, forgotten.

Your throat constricted. Eddie’s silence was suffocating. You wanted him to laugh, to smile, or maybe even tease you. Instead, he sat perfectly still unable to say a word, or anything other than your name.

It wasn’t enough. It was too much.

You pushed down the swell of emotions. You cleared your throat. “I … I think I’m going to go to bed, okay? It’s late and tonight has been a lot. I, uh, I guess you can stay here on the couch. I’ll be right over there, in the bedroom, with the door opened if you need me.”

You walked away without looking back at him.

Eddie watched as you shuffled into your bedroom. Or what should have been your shared bedroom. His hand rubbed his chest hoping to soothe the ache. A child’s attempt to cure a pain that wasn’t physical.

Like you said, you left the door open. You crawled into bed, back into the same position in the same spot you were for weeks. Your back faced the doorway as you curled into a ball.

Your cheek stung.

A harsh reminder. Yet, you welcomed the pain. It was better than the chilling numbness that was beginning to settle over you.

You’ve cried yourself to sleep so many times it was natural at this point. The silent tears fell, soaking your pillow. Exhaustion dragged you down into the darkness. You pulled the pillow with Eddie’s vest closer.

He was here. He was home. But, at a cost. He wasn’t fully here. A monster, a creature. You squeezed your eyes tight and buried your face into the pillow. Eddie was in there, you’ll get him back. Because if you didn’t? You didn’t know what you’d do with yourself.

Thoughts of Eddie, thoughts of trying to find a solution, swirled in your head.

Sleep shortly followed.

Eddie, however, stayed awake.

An hour later, after your muffled sniffling faded, he strolled into your room. He squatted down on your side of the bed. With parted lips, you breathed in and out in calm even breaths. He reached up and brushed your tear stained cheek. Your head instinctively turned towards his touch. He dropped his hand. His eyes fell to the pillow in your grasp. He recognized the material covering it.

It was his. That was all he knew. It was his and important to him.

He sighed through his nose. Standing up, he looked around. A few pictures were propped up on the dresser in the corner. All of them were the two of you. He leaned down taking a closer look at one of them. It was the two of you on a picnic table in a park. You sat on top of the table with Eddie on the bench in between your legs, his back pressed to your chest. You held up the camera pointing it down at the two of you. You both stuck out your tongue. Eddie held up a finger pointing at your nose, while with your free hand you held up bunny ears behind his head. Neither of you suggested it, you only said you were going to take a picture and you both acted as a unit, a goofy chaotic unit.

Eddie touched the picture. His reflection shown in the glass. It didn’t match. His face twisted in anger and stormed off. Without realizing it, he darted into the bathroom. The faint light from the porch streamed in through the living blinds, yet he could still perfectly see his reflection.

His black tar eyes were not the warm honey brown. He lifted his hands. Long black nails - claws - were obviously not human. He lifted his upper lip exposing his teeth. The sharp teeth were made for a monster. For tearing and mauling. He spun around looking over his shoulder. The bat, the grotesque inhuman thing, was now part of him. It wasn’t truly sentient or alive. Just a thing, like an unwanted backpack forever glued to him.

A thing which connected him to his new life.

A life he didn’t ask for.

He growled and whirled around punching the mirror. The shattered pieces fell into the sink. He retracted his hand. Cuts dotted his knuckles. A dark unnatural red oozed out. Yet, in seconds, the skin stitched back together. The damage disappeared as if it never happened.

Shocked. Confused.

He stumbled backwards. The back of his knees hit the tub and tumbled into it. He stayed there wide eyed, staring at his hands. His eyes trailed up his arm seeing the wing curl around his arm. If he lifted his arm up, the wing followed. He shivered. He pulled his attention back to his hands.

Blood speckled his knuckles.

He raised a claw, slicing into his palm. Blood dropped out. It splattered on his shirt and into the tub. The skin, like before, with tiny minuscule threads, reached out stitching itself back together.

He repeated.

And repeated.

Frustrated, he slammed his bloody hands on the rim of the tub. He picked himself up and out of the tub. But he didn’t stop there. He forced open the door and sprinted out back into the woods.

He paused.

Looking back, no lights were on inside. You continued to sleep soundly, comfortable in your bed. His hands curled into tight fists, oozing blood.

He ran off.

Gone.

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, hitting your eyes. You groaned and rolled over. Eddie. You instantly shot up. You scrambled out of bed and into the living room. But, he wasn’t there.

Panic set in.

“Eddie?” You whirled around, your eyes searching the entirety of the trailer. Not on the couch. Not behind anything. Not here. Tears welled up in your eyes. “Oh, god, please, Eddie,” you cried out. “Where are you?”

Your final prayer was the bathroom.

With an insane amount of force, you kicked it open. The door banged against the wall shaking the whole trailer. Pictures and antiques hung on the wall or peacefully resting on end tables, toppled over crashing to the ground.

You flicked on the lights.

With your blurry vision, you saw nothing.

No Eddie.

A sob burst out.

You stepped further into the empty space. “Why?” You cried. “Why did you leave me?”

Again.

Blinded and drowning in tears, your head swam in bitter disillusion. He should have been here. He had to be. You squeezed your eyes shut. You doubled over and used the sink for support. Tears cascaded down your face. It surprised you how much you could cry. Despite the hours, despite the lack of water you drank, despite it all, you still cried.

You clutched the front of your shirt.

Your heart stung. It bleed. It cried out for the massive whole tore inside of it to be filled. But, the solution was impossible. Eddie was dead. And, last night was another poor example of your waning mental stability.

You slammed your hands down unleashing a god-awful scream. You screamed and screamed until your throat was raw.

Why? Why? Why? Why did you go? Why am I always haunted by you? Why did you run off? Why do I live? Why do I have to keep going on without you? Why do I sleep in our bed alone?

Why don’t I get a happy ending?

Sniffling, you slowly peered up at yourself in the mirror.

Your heart rate spiked.

A shaky hand reached out and touched the crack mirror. This wasn’t your doing. You surely would have remembered. Through the broken shards, your shattered reflection revealed something plastered to your face. Your fingers skimmed over the gauze. Your eyes watched intently. Ripping the gauze off, you cursed as a pain rippled through you.

Four slashes cut into your cheek.

You whirled around. You needed to reassess your surroundings.

Blood, not yours, dotted in the sink, however, most of it was in the tub. It stained the bottom of the tub as it crawled its way down the drain. Blood handprints wrapped around the lip. You dropped to your knees and carefully aligned your hand over it.

It was his. His size, his shape.

It was real. He was here.

A blubbering cry broke through your lips.

Eddie was back.

All you had to do was find him and never let him go again.

#stranger things #Eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #vampire eddie munson #monster!eddie #tw body horror

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

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Just Like the Caged Bird, Part 7

Summary: Andy and you are spending some time apart

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: sweet

Warnings: none, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.8K

Series Masterlist

The first time Bucky found you on the couch sleeping was after a long night at Hawkeyes. Steve and Sam seemed right at home, dancing and flirting with girls. Bucky's eyes only roamed around looking for his roommate, forgetting that your shift was earlier in the day. He came home to the apartment and seen you sleeping soundly on the couch. Already dressed in an oversized shirt, most likely Andy's, he thought with a grit of his teeth, and barely there sleeper shorts. Legs comfortably sprawled out, the throw blanket hardly covering your body.

Your phone lighting up with a text from Andy. He had no reason to look at the message, but sometimes curiosity gets the best of him. It's an innocent enough text, asking if you had fallen asleep. Bucky grabs the remote on the coffee table and turns off the TV, thinking you did in fact fall asleep watching TV. It is late, and you had gone in early to help the kitchen staff prep. He trudges into his own room. Staring at his neatly made bed before he destroys it by throwing the blanket and pillows on the floor.

The second time Bucky found you sleeping on the couch he had come to get a drink of water in the middle of the night. When you told him goodnight you had walked into your room. Now you were asleep on the couch. Curled tightly into a ball, the TV was off this time. You hadn't had fallen asleep like this, you ventured to the couch. Probably because you couldn't sleep, he figures. Quietly he grabs a glass of water and returns to his room.

The next morning, he wakes up to you still asleep on the couch. "Peach, you don't think your bed is more comfortable?" he asks noticing how your eyes blink up at him confused as to why he's awake.

"Uh yeah. I sometimes, um, sleep walk," Bucky only nods and leaves it at that. It's not that the two of you don't get along. He actually enjoys spending time with you. Whether he helps you with your dinner, clean the apartment together, or even just talk over a cheesy movie. He knows he enjoys spending time with you too much. He's reminded of this every time you gets a text from Andy. "Not your boyfriend, huh?" he cheekily asks. Watching your face, trying to find any facial implications of your feelings towards Andy.

"He's not," your face is too steady. He assumes you’re either a good actress or really there's nothing there. He does see you fiddle around with your late husband's dog tags. The necklace containing your wedding band and engagement rings never returned to your neck. But he sees you look at it on the nightstand every time you walk in your room.

"So not dating anyone?" Bucky casually asks taking a bit of alfredo.

"No," almost every answer from you that's about your personal life is always short. Matter of fact. "No one caught your eyes at Hawkeyes? There's a lot of available men in the area. Ones that don't share parents," he knows that last comment shouldn't have come out of his mouth. The more Andy calls or texts you the more he feels that green envy monster thick in his chest. Your bright eyes glare up at him but you don’t respond. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that." "No, you shouldn't. Andy is a friend," he wants to add that he's not the same type of friend like you and Steve are. But he lets it go.

"What is keeping you and Andy away from each other?" You leans back in your chair, arms crossed over your chest. He knows how irritated you’re getting with all the questions about Andy Barber. "Are you a mole? You working with Sam and Dean?" Bucky can only stare at you shaking his head, mouth full of food. "Then what's the deal with all the questions about Andy?" "Just trying to get to know you. I need to find a friend like you. You forget that I found you two making out in the back of his car." "To answer your last question, Andy's been working on a major case. This conversation is over. You clean up the mess," you stand, leaving the table. After closing the door to your room, he hears the muffled sound of Creedence Clearwater Revival through your door. He shouldn't have continued this track of questions. Usually, him and you get along great. He can't help that he's slightly jealous of whatever is going on between you and Andy. And he's not quite sure if he understands his feelings towards you.

Bucky begins cleaning up the kitchen. Thinking about what little interactions he had with you. While he was Steve's friend, Jensen and him always got along. He remembers the constant talk about his perfect little Songbird. How he was going to marry her and they would have the perfect home with white picket fence and the 2.5 kids. As sweet as his talk could be, he would notice the groans from his brother and friends and change it to all the awkwardly dirty exploitations that you and him would get into.

"Jensen, didn't you say she was saving herself for marriage? And when you first started dating you admitted to being a virgin?" Sam asked with a smirk. Bucky knew with the awkward details and being too descriptive they hadn't done anything.

"Well yeah, but she wants it." "You shouldn't talk so vulgar about a girl you actually care about. No one is going to judge you. I think it's actually sweet...weird, but sweet," Bucky tells the nerd. He can only huff cleaning off his glasses. Clearly the man was frustrated, but he was committed to you. "There's other things you can do besides sex. Talk to her."

The first time Bucky actually met you, he understood the obsession that Jensen and even the older Rogers had. Andy stayed away from you, choosing to move away to go to college. Jensen adored you. You were awkward and shy. But when you said hey, in your drawn-out southern drawl and answering Bucky's question about where you were from, he gave you a wink. Immediately dubbing you the Georgia Peach. And then shortening it to Peach. Other people attempted to call you, Songbird like Jensen, while you never said anything bout it, your face informed people that, Songbird was for Jensen.

One of the last times he was around you all four of the men were home on leave. He bought a tattoo gun online, excitedly everyone was up for getting a tattoo. Oddly he watched you volunteer to be first, but only if Jensen could give you the tattoo. "Oh, Peach, you want to taint your skin with something permanent?" you actually scoffed at him. Jensen could only laugh. "What?" "It's not her first," he responds. Bucky, Sam, and Steve all look at you with wide eyes, loud cat calls rising up in the apartment above the garage.

"It's not a big deal," you whisper, Jensen's arm goes around your waist, circling his fingers on your hips.

"Just never pegged the innocent little Georgia Peach one for having a tattoo. What is it? Where is it?" Bucky asks very interested in this development.

"Oh, come on, this is my girlfriend you're talking about." "So, it's on your ass?" Sam laughs. "That why we can't see it?" "No, it's not," the three watch you. Steve notices how your hand grabs ahold to Jensen's that circles your hip, lightly tapping his hand.

"Oh...you were telling us, without telling us. So, what is it?" Steve jabs looking between his twin and you.

"It's personal...Dean and Sam have the same one. Theirs is just bigger and on their chest," your fingers fiddle around with your hair. Twisting your fingers nervously, and wanting the subject to change.

"Ok, Dove...what tattoo do you want Jensen to give you?" Steve doesn't want the girl to become more awkward.

"A sunshine," your bright eyes smile up at him. He can only lean forward, kissing you softly on the lips.

"Why?" Sam asks.

"He's my ray of sunshine," groans and annoyed laughs erupt from the living room, but Bucky nods his head setting up the gun, while you lay on the couch. Jensen carefully draws out a sunshine on your hip while the other three talk and joke amongst themselves. After you approve the design, he went with, Bucky walks over, aiding Jensen in tattooing your hip. The first few lines done by Bucky himself. After Jensen carefully lets the gun add ink to his girlfriend's hip. His eyes fully focused on making everything perfect.

Most people would have discouraged you from getting a tattoo from your high school sweetheart, much less one that was for him. The other three men watch as you hardly flinch, doesn't cry out, even when Jensen pressed a bit too hard. After a quick cleaning when he's finished, he leans forward kissing your hip softly. "JJ," you pant. "Not here."

After Jensen had tattooed you, you wanted your turn to tattoo him. Choosing a basic outline of a bird that he wanted on his chest. A small tattoo for you. Your steady hands and attention to detail wanted the other men to choose you to tattoo them.

"Let's see the other hip, Peach," Bucky tells you after you finished his tattoo, only a basic star on his upper left arm. Jensen shot down the idea of him getting a peach tattooed on him. He loved seeing your cheeks heat up with embarrassment when he suggested the design.

Bucky looks down at his left arm. The star long gone, the arm long gone, replaced with a metal prosthetic arm. Spoils of war. With a sigh and realizing that he actually pissed you off he goes into his bedroom, ripping the blankets off the bed and throwing it on the floor with some pillows. Settling in for a long night.

You give Bucky time to actually drift asleep before walking out into the living room and lay on the couch. You hadn’t been unable to sleep in a bed alone since Jensen had passed. Feeling that the bed is too big, and you feel too alone. Snuggling on the couch and telling yourself, you’re going to have to wake up before Bucky, not wanting him to know the real reason you continues to sleep on the couch.

Almost settled down you hear a soft whimper float under Bucky's door. The sound is familiar to you. You sits up, ears perked, listening more closely. The low whimpers continue along with deep mumbling. "Bucky?" you ask quietly in the dark living room. No answer but the mumbling and distressed noises continue.

Walking closer to his door, you knock before slowly opening the door. You hear the uneven breathing, looking on the bed you don't see his body, and by reflex look to the floor. Watching his body writhe and twist on the floor as soft "No... no," whispers off his lips.

On instinct you go to the floor, ready to ground him. His body sits up, gasping for breath. You softly shush him, placing his hand on your heart. "Breathe. You're here in Newton. We're in your room above Steve's garage," you continue to offer soothing words before Bucky's eyes concentrates on yours. The bright green of your eyes pierces his own cerulean blue. He studies your eyes seeing the soft gold that emerges from your pupils.

"What are you doing, Peach?" his breathing still hasn't steadied out.

"You were having a nightmare," your voice isn't one of pity. It's one of understanding. Soothing in all the right ways. He notices his hand that pressed firmly against your chest. Feeling the rhythmic beat of your heart. Looking at their closeness, he quickly jerks it away.

"Sorry. I bet you're wondering why I'm in the floor." "The bed too soft? You're hoping that you won't get too comfortable for nightmares to happen? Or is it the hardness of the floor grounding you to reality? That you're here, and not there." "Yeah," you understand that it's all the above. "You have nightmares, too?" "No. Jensen." A comfortable silence filters through the room. The roommates can only look at one another. "So why do you sleep on the couch?" You figured Bucky wouldn't believe your lies. He's too observant. "Don't like being in the bed alone," you give him a weak smile. "You good?" Bucky gives you a quick nod. When you stand to leave, he already misses the comfort that you brought to the room. "Wait. Don't go. You don't like being alone in the bed, and I'm comforted by your presence. Why don't you just stay? Maybe we can each get some sleep." You contemplate this. Missing Jensen's warmth around you, and even Andy's strength. You don't want to sound too eager though. "I don't know." "It's just too roommates sharing a bed, well a floor. We don't have to tell anyone," Bucky never mentions Andy's name, thinking he's the reason you’re hesitant. He doesn't want to upset you anymore.

"It's just us sleeping, right?" Bucky nods, holding his hands up to you. He wraps his arms around you. Hearing a satisfied sigh release from your lips when you settle down in front of him. Noticing how you don't recoil from the cold metal on your skin. His fingers come into contact with your hip. Feeling how part of the skin is still raised from Jensen going to deep.

Tracing along the dark ink, he needs to know the story of the other tattoo. he caught sight of it when you were asleep on the couch, your shorts resting a bit too low on your hips. Seeing how it almost looked like a sunshine as well. "Peach?" "Mmmhmm?" you yawn. Already feeling more relaxed in his arms.

"What's the story about your other tattoo? I know that your brothers have a matching one." "It's just a symbol," he feels the deep gulp you takes, and becomes even more curious.

"A symbol that means what?" "Uh, we're a bit, um, eccentric with our beliefs...it's an anti-possession symbol," Bucky doesn't comment on that. Clearly the admission is slightly a sensitive subject, and most definitely personal.

"You got anymore tattoos I'm not aware of?"

You actually giggle. A sleepy giggle that lingers in his chest. "None that you need to concern yourself with," Bucky rolls your body over to your back, caging you under him.

"Tell me," your chest heaves under him as you look up at him. You don't want to lose your comfort that you’ve created with Bucky, but you squeeze your thighs closer together, feeling yourself heat up, and you hates how quickly he's making you feel things. But loving how powerful he looks over you.

"No," you whisper, eyes quickly looking down at his lips and even quicker back to meet his eyes. Bucky can only smirk, licking his lips at your action.

"Show me, then." "No." "Peeeach...?" he whines over you.

"No. Now get off of me," your arm pushes him over which he quickly allows himself to drop beside you, clutching at his chest, feigning hurt.

"You've wounded me, Peach. Why won't you at least tell me what your other tattoo is." "It's tattoos."

"Oh, now I need to know," he throws his leg over yours so he's straddling you, playfully he searches along your exposed skin for the mysterious tattoos. "Are they on your back?" "No. Bucky..." "Has Andy seen them?" since his voice is playful, you don't get upset about Andy being brought up again.

"Not both," your answer is still short, but this time you don't pout at him.

"So, he hasn't seen you naked?" "I didn't say that," you giggle again. Bucky loves this playful side of you. You reserve this only for people you’re comfortable with. He cocks up an eyebrow. "He hasn't seen them because they're hidden." "Even when you're naked?" you nod up at him. His hands coast under your head. "You don't have an undercut." "I did." His tongue licks around his mouth, before biting his pink lips. "Is it that bad of tattoos that you don't want to even talk about them?" "No. It's a language that most people don't understand," he can only look at you underneath him. Wanting you to elaborate more on the subject. "It's Enochian sigils. It's one of the ways that Dean and Sam allowed me not to be with them." "So other than the tattoo Jensen gave you, the others are ones that your brothers made you get?" "You make it sound like a bad thing," your eyes look down, loving the way his dog tags swirl over you. Taking you back to when your fingers would wrap around Jensen's to pull him into a kiss. "They suggested it. I agreed to it. It's complicated and you wouldn't understand." "Is it one of those symbols like the one on your hip?" you nod up at him. He sees how you’re hurt by his words. "Sorry. I don't understand. We should get some sleep, Peach."

His body rolls off from the top of you and pulls you close to him. His head buries deeply into your body, smelling your honeysuckle scent that always lingers on you. Both of you settle into a comfortable and nightmare less sleep. Realizing that your current living situation could be beneficial on multiple levels. Bucky knows he's not going to be able to stay away from you, and that scares him. Scares him to the point where he wants to push you away. Confliction.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida

#just like the caged bird #andy barber x reader #soft!dark!andy barber #andy barber #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winchester!reader #andy barber x fem!reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber fic #andy barber fics #andy barber fanfiction #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes fanfiction

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