Love Me Tender // Eddie Munson

Mm i just think Steve has a ton of sweaters, some snug that fit him well and some that are purposely big so he can drown in the warmth and comfort. And his mind would stop as soon as he sees you wearing one of his sweaters

went a lil silly and wrote a cutie lil blurb about steve's girl wearing his sweater, hope you enjoy! 🫶🏻

Fall-ing In Love ~ S. Harrington

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 0.5K

warnings: none, just tooth-rotting, pumpkin scented fluff

extra notes: all photos in the collage are from pinterest! dividers are by @firefly-graphics!

send me steve thoughts | ask box

The air was crisp, the scent of your favorite cinnamon candle burning in the living room wafting through the air as the menu credits of St. Elmo's Fire played from the television. Freshly plated pumpkin squares sat on the coffee table next to two mugs of milk, the scent only adding to the aroma of the candle. The scene truly looked like something straight out of a romance movie, and the only thing missing was your leading man.

Just as you checked your watch, the familiar sound of the car engine turning off rumbled outside, prompting you to leave your spot on the couch and head for the door. Instinctively pulling open the door, you greeted Steve with a soft peck before moving to let him in.

The boy's jaw was just about on the floor as he took in the sight in front of him—you, all wrapped up in the sweater he'd forgotten a couple days ago, looking absolutely beautiful and perfect. It was a navy blue number, one that fit him snuggly but seemingly swallowed you whole. You had to curl the ends of the sleeves into your fists, effectively making paws out of the material, so they didn't drag or get caught in any of the snacks you'd made.

"Woohoo," you called, waving a hand in front of his widened eyes. "You good up there?"

He blinked a couple times, bringing himself out of his thoughts. "Just wondering how in the world I got so lucky enough to end up with the prettiest girl this side of the Mississippi."

A blush crept up your cheeks as you flashed a shy smile his way. "You think I'm pretty, Stevie?" you kidded, hitting his chest jokingly. "I never would've guessed."

A deep chuckle fell from his lips as he pulled you in for a hug, his lips pressing softly into your scalp. "I think you're very pretty. The prettiest girl in the whole galaxy."

You shot him a playful look, a smirk tugging at your mouth. "What made me get upgraded in the last ten seconds?"

And with that, he was back to his normal self. Not that Steve wasn't sappy or absolutely in love with you, but that was just the bonus version of Steve. The Steve you'd fallen for was sarcastic and playful and knew exactly how to create the perfect balance of charm and romance. "I take it back. Your sarcasm has you back down to 'prettiest girl this side of the Mississippi'," he joked, slapping you playfully across your denim-clad butt.

In a matter of seconds, you were back in the living room, Steve's face practically glowing as he took in the display in front of him. "Woman, you spoil me."

You brushed a delicate kiss to the sharp line of his jaw, arms wrapping around his midsection. "It's easy to spoil someone when they love you the way you love me."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he commented, lips meeting the top of your head once more.

Your eyes met his, a knowing smile splayed across both of your mouths. "Well, for one, you'd have no one to share your sweaters with. And for two, you'd die of pumpkin deprivation."

"And that, my love, is a world in which no one deserves to live."

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @esoltis280

okay this makes me think of sunshine teasing cuddling with ari & he just wants to nap with her after a long day 😩

Pairing: Beefy Biker Ari x Reader

"I thought you didn't want to cuddle," you tease, smiling up at him.

Ari's face morphs into a menacing glower and your pleased smile gets bigger the longer he glares at you.

He wants to tell you that you're the first person to lay with him like this in years but the words get tangled in a ball of emotion that lodges in his throat. So he settles for his usual scowl.

"I'm just saying. You don't like it so-" you stretch out the word, lifting your head up. "I can sleep on the couch-"

Ari places his large hand on your back, gently pushing you down. "I don't like it." Don't leave me sunshine.

"Uh-huh."

"I do hate it and I don't cuddle," he intones, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you. Ari glances down at your bodies and after a brief moment, decides to drape his long leg over yours. Confident that you can't escape him, he pushes your head back on his chest.

"So we're not cuddling." He inhales sharply at your muffled giggle. "Now stop squirming."

"Okay if you say so Bear." You place a chaste kiss on his chest right above the tattoo across his heart. Ari wonders if you can sense the way his pulse is erratically beating, a comforting ache that he refuses to acknowledge swells in his chest.

Resting your head in his warm skin, you trace patterns over his tattoos while you talk about the changes at the animal shelter. He pretends not to listen as he hangs on to your every word.

After you fall asleep, he presses a kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering on you. He chuckles to himself, running his knuckle down your soft cheek. "God help me when you realize I'll do anything you want."

Emergency Contact

(Steve Rogers x Reader)

All fluff

Word count: 3,081

Summary: After three years together, you finally experience the joy of being Steve’s emergency contact.

Warnings: Mentions of injury, guns, illness, and medicine. Loopy Steve! My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked.Minors DNI.

AN: I love writing Steve fluff, and honestly, I think the world needs more of it!!!! All mistakes are my own, hope you love it! <3

Steve Rogers was a man of many traits, but needy and attention seeking was definitely nowhere on that list. Well, at least that was the case for most of his life.

The Avengers loved teasing him for the way his striking authority and stubborn independence completely crumbled away into a pile of dust the moment you walked into the room. Just the sight of you relaxed his stiff posture and brought a permanent grin to his otherwise expressionless face.

Sure, off duty Steve was all laughs and smiles. Any time he spent with the team that didn't involve boring meetings or adrenaline pumping athletics, his personality was larger than life. But for some reason, you pulled it out of him even when he tried his hardest to stay neutral.

He never accepted help or allowed others to love him the same way he helped and loved everyone around him, unless it was you.

Which made you the very obvious first choice as his emergency contact, and you had been since two months into your relationship with the Captain. It wasn't even something that was discussed or you were informed of. It was an executive decision made by Tony the moment he realized you were pretty much the only person qualified to be there.

Now here you were three years later. Still americas sweetheart, and still the perfect emergency contact. Three years of waiting for an emergency call that never came, well, that was until it did.

Steve, the selfless and heroic bastard he was, snuck onto enemy lines and over a blockade to free over two-hundred hostages.

Did he free them? Yes.

Did he get shot in the head? Yes.

Did it only get worse from there? Yes.

Luckily for him, his helmet bared most of the burden. It did it's job exactly as intended, stopping the bullet and protecting his precious skull and even more precious brain. But after years of wear and bravery it's life came to an end as it inevitably cracked in half.

That resulted in a gnarly concussion after Steve was thrown off a five story building just moments after the helmet met its fate. The doctor explained to you that because the concussion was combined with pretty routine injuries, the serum could only do so much for Steve and that he was temporarily immunocompromised.

Steve sat patiently on the edge of a gurney while you listened to the doctor tell you all about how to take care of him. Your eyes occasionally drifted over to your human golden retriever and you almost wanted to slap him across his perfect concussed head.

He held an ice pack to the back of his head with a proudly smug expression on his face. His suit was tattered and torn, and you could see dark red stains of tacky pooled blood. His arms were scraped and he had deeply pronounced cuts on his temple, lips and nose. Your personal favorite part was that he could barely keep his eyes open, yet after they would slowly close, he would rip them open and blink a few times just to get his vision to focus on you.

After you and the doctor debriefed, you waited until he left the room to address Steve.

"You exhaust me, you big dumb idiot" You quietly scolded him after the door softly clicked into it's closed position. "I've been worried sick about you since I got the phone call almost two hours ago and you're sitting here smiling?!"

"You're so pretty" Hir smile stretched wider as you pulled him into a tight hug. "I missed you"

"I missed you too" You sighed into his hair. It was odd having his head below yours for once, but him sitting and you standing allowed for the unique experience.

Steve could tell that you really had been worried about him. You were practically melting into his arms, holding onto him so tight he thought that maybe he had actually died and came back to life. Even though your tight hold strained every screaming ache in his body, he held back winces and groans to allow you the comfort you needed.

"Please don't scare me like that ever again" Your sternness had quickly turned into worry and sympathy.

"'M sorry, darling. I didn't mean to" Steve slowly rubbed your back in attempts to appease your distress. "You know I'd never do anything that would keep me from coming home to you."

"You almost didn't" She denied his statement. "You were shot in the head and thrown off a building. That doesn't sound like something that would happen to someone just trying to go home"

"That's a normal Tuesday for me" He stated like it was a matter of fact.

"I hate Tuesdays" He could hear the pout in your voice before you pulled away and cradled his cheeks in your hands. "Are you okay?"

"I will be" He reassured you, but the pained expression on his face and the dulled blue in his droopy eyes told you that he definitely wasn't feeling good.

"I'm so happy you're home" You told him, but it came out in a broken whisper that allowed Steve to understand what you were really trying to say.

I'm so happy you made it home alive.

"Thank you for coming to get me" sincerity was laced into every word he spoke.

"Let's get you cleaned up and in bed" She grinned. "Doctor said you're on mandatory bed rest for three days. Are you going to listen, or did the fall make your hard head go soft?"

"I'm pretty sure my brain is a pile of mush right now, maybe three days would do me good" Steve pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

Beyond your wildest expectations, your stubborn hard headed boyfriend actually did listen. He spent three whole days sleeping away in your shared bed, or the living room couch in the compound. It was almost concerning to everyone who passed by to see him so deeply asleep and almost lifeless.

Amongst the words those would use to describe Steve, restless and active were very high up. But now those were tossed out of the window and replaced with needy.

By day four he wouldn't even let you out of his sight, but you didn't really want to leave him either. He spent hours curled up in a little ball with a pained scrunched up face.

His head was pounding, his muscles were sore, and more recently he found himself with a scratchy throat and blocked sinuses.

Having not been sick since the 40's, he was out of practice and strength to deal with it. The whole team accused him of having the 'man flu', exaggerating his symptoms to keep you close. Fake coughing and sneezing for a few extra back rubs, because really, how on earth could a super soldier get sick?

But they all didn't see him how you did. It was really out of the ordinary for him to make himself seem so small. They weren't the ones wrapping his shivering body in heated blankets, massaging his sore lower back, or playing with his hair just to get him to release any sort of misery to lull him to sleep.

Not only was he sick, but you could tell he was dealing with stirred up past trauma. He spent practically his whole life up until the war being unwell, struggling to breath with a body so nimble and weak it felt like it could give out at any moment.

So that's how you ended up here, with two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle using your chest as a pillow while watching Snow White.

Much like you loved to show him stuff he missed while he was in the ice, he loved to show you stuff from his time before the ice. Snow White just happened to be the one Disney film you hadn't seen, and the film that he has fond memories of.

He told you when you first started dating that it came out when he was nineteen years old, and it was the first thing to bring a genuine smile to his face since his mom passed away when he was eighteen. Steve knew with everything in him that she would've loved it.

You were more than happy to lay awake at 2:30am to watch it and play with his hair even if it would make him just the tiniest bit less miserable.

You mindlessly ran your fingers through the short length while he held you tight and snug. He was under so many blankets that you weren't really sure where your bodies started and ended, but you did know that between him and the pile, you were way more than warm. His body was like a furnace, it usually was but this was a whole new extreme.

The medicine he was prescribed was strong enough to tranquilize a horse, but it was a tough match on the super soldier who was desperately trying to stay awake to finish the tale of the seven dwarves. It was equal parts endearing and frustrating that he was fighting off sleep with every ounce of strength he had.

Luckily, this was a battle that he had lost around three in the morning. You waited a few minutes to make sure he was out cold before slipping out from underneath his sweaty body in attempts to take care of yourself too.

You had already accepted the fact that you're sleep schedule was royally fucked up, so you didn't even bat an eye when it came to showering at such an ungodly hour.

The real trouble came when you tried to make yourself a cup of chamomile tea to will yourself to sleep after days in bed with Steve.

Maybe you weren't quite as stealth or quiet as you thought you were being, but there was definitely nothing quiet about the shriek you let out when a warm pair of unsuspecting forearms wrapped around your stomach from behind.

"God, you scared the shit out of me" You complained to your drugged up boyfriend.

He was in nothing but his boxers with a blanket draped around his shoulders. His arms held your back tightly against his front while his head dropped to your shoulder, he wasn't doing much to support his body weight.

"You left me" He complained with the saddest little pout. His sweet voice was raspy and muffled by a very obvious sore throat, it was enough to make you weak in the knees. "Woke up s'sad"

"I'm sorry, baby." You used your free hand to grab his forearm and draw hearts into his skin with your thumb.

"Thassokay, so happy now" He was obviously in a cold medicine induced loopy state. "Needed to see my beautiful girl"

"I think you need some good sleep" you suggested, trying your hardest to finish up so you could get him back in bed.

"No more sleep. I wanna do whatever you're doing" Steve sniffled into your neck before placing tiny kisses along your shoulder. "I haven't seen you in like two weeks"

"Honey, I've been with you for four whole days" You smiled at his drugged thoughts.

"I haven't seen you in six yearssss" he slurred.

"We only met three years ago" a giggle slipped past your lips.

"Nooooo. It's been at least 10. I've known you since two life times ago. Promise" He placed a kiss on your cheek. "Every second without you feels like a lifetime."

"I'll take your word for it" You brought your mug to your lips and took a long sip.

"Why have you been in bed with me for four years, pretty girl?"

"Days" you corrected. "Because you don't feel good, and I'm trying to make you feel better." You placed your mug down on the counter before turning around so you could face him.

"You've been taking care of me for four whole days?!" He questioned.

His eyelids were heavy and his expression was weary. A pretty shade of pink painted his cheeks and the top of his chapped nose while his hair stuck out in a million different directions. The soft stubble growing along his bold jaw and upper lip was coming in and filling out which was a rarity with Steve. He always kept his face cleanly shaved in attempts to keep up with public image and old fashioned habits.

You couldn't even help but to smile at how cute he was, even drugged out of his mind.

"Mhm" You grinned.

"Wow. Woooooooowwww! I'm ssssoo lucky" He threw his head back with a huge smile, the first time he smiled in days. "You must really love me. Like. A lot."

"I do" You confirmed while trying to fix his hair. "I love you a whole bunch"

"Tomorrow I'm going to go buy you flowers" he stated proudly.

"No you're not" You gently denied. "Tomorrow you have to rest so you feel better, remember?"

"But I have to" He wined with a poked out bottom lip in the most pathetic pout you've ever seen.

"Why do you have to?"

"Because my mother always told me that I have to buy pretty flowers for even prettier girls or else they'll run off. I don't want you to leave me." He explained.

"I'd never leave you" You reassured him, trying to take it as seriously as he was. Your thumbs made their way to the very corners of his pouted lips, and stretched them up into a grin. "I promise, I know you love me. I don't need flowers to know that"

"Really? You promise?"

"I promise" You confirmed with a small nod. "You look like you aren't feeling good, do you want to go back to bed now?"

"I feel fine" He denied. "Don'tcha worry your cute little face about me."

You lifted your hand and pressed your palm against his forehead. "But, honey, you're hot. You're practically burning up"

"Why thank you" He smirked.

"I meant your temperature" You chuckled until you realized that his face fell into another pathetic pout.

"I'm ugly?" He asked sadly.

"What? No- baby you're the handsomest man I've ever seen. All I'm trying to tell you is that you have a fever."

"Oh" He perked up. "Yeah, I really don't feel good" His head dropped back into the crook of your neck. "Should probably go to bed, but I don't wanna"

"Why not?"

"Cause I want cuddles from my pretty princess"

"I can give you cuddles in bed" You tried reasoning with him while drawing shapes into his bare back.

"You smell so good" You could feel his smile against your skin. "And you're so pretty. And warm. It's so cold"

"How about we get under the blankets to warm you up?" You desperately tried reasoning with him.

"I have a blanket right here, see? We're sharing it." Steve readjusted then blanket so it was tighter around the two of you. "Why is your hair wet?"

"I took a shower- washed my hair" You told him with a grin. His lack of self support caused his weight to push your back into the counter while his front leaned into yours.

"Without me? That's so mean"

"You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you up"

"But I'm here now" He proudly stated.

"I'm so happy you're here. But do you know where I want to go?" You asked, hoping you could trick him.

"Where do you wanna go? I'll go aaaaanywhere with you. I can even start up the quinjet if you want" He lifted his head to look at your face again.

"I want to go to bed"

"Awww s'my angel so sleepy?" He questioned sweetly with a higher pitched tone as if you were the tiniest puppy he had ever seen. "Let's get you cozy"

He unraveled himself from his spot then grabbed your hand and brought you back into the bedroom. To your surprise, he got into bed with no complaints.

Without saying a word, the two of you found your spots exactly where you were. Bodies becoming one, tangled into endless blankets, his head on your chest, and his weight pushing you deeper into the plush mattress. You pressed play again on Snow White and Steve pressed a little kiss just below your collar bone as a token of appreciation.

One hand on his smooth back, the other forever tangled into his silky blonde hair.

"Do you feel sick too?" Steve practically whispered after almost ten minutes of silence.

"No, honey, I'm feeling okay"

"Okay, I'm so happy you don't feel like this" He squeezed his eyes closed and nestled his cheek into the cotton of your shirt. "I don't want to feel like this anymore"

The statement brought a genuine pain to your chest. Steve was just too cute to handle, and if you could take every drop of illness out of him and bare it yourself, you would do it in a heartbeat.

"I'm so sorry, Stevie. This is the worst of it, okay? Bruce said you should start feeling better within the next day or two" You sealed the statement with a kiss to the top of his head. "If there's anything I can do to make you feel better just let me know and I'll do it, alright?"

"You're the best emergency contact in the whole world. You're granted this position for the rest of my life" He appointed you.

"I'm glad. It's a privilege to take care of you, I love you."

"I love you too"

Another few moments of silence and calm fell onto the room, and his evened out breathing and relaxed muscles lead you to believe that you had successfully lulled the big friendly giant to sleep. You couldn't even help your brain wandering as you had a chance to unapologetically stare at the creature that was your boyfriend.

He really was so beautiful. A sharp jaw, strong nose, and bold cheekbones all softened by a sweet, lopsided smile, baby blue eyes, and a loyal, timeless personality.

"I'm going to go buy you flowers tomorrow" His voice ripped you out of the trance he had put you in to begin with.

"You're a pain in the butt" you couldn't even help but to laugh, and a smirk formed on his face though his eyes remained closed.

"I have a good butt"

"Go to sleep, Rogers."

Every Step of the Way

Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: After struggling through the entire week, Steve’s there to comfort you when you need him the most.

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: severe depression is depicted, Steve and reader being naked in a shower together but nothing sexual, major hurt comfort vibes

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: this is 1000% self indulgent, I wrote this when I was in a really dark place, struggling to even just get out of bed every day and I needed Stevie there to comfort me. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

Opening your eyes seems like an effort too great for the amount of energy in your reserves.

Every breath is a heave, as if trying to gasp for air with an anvil sitting on your chest.

The backs of your eyes sting with tears at the thought of needing to get out of bed. You don’t want to face the day, don’t want to be the early bird catching the worm. You want to stay under the covers and sleep, that’s all you have the motivation to do.

Dirty dishes are stacked next to your sink, they’ve been accumulating since early in the week and you’ve just not had the energy after working and making dinner each night to actually wash them yet.

Clothes litter the floor of your bedroom, but you’ve put off going down to the laundry room for the past few days, with each new sunrise promising it’ll be tomorrow you’ll find time to do it, but that tomorrow never comes.

The bathrooms need cleaning, the floor needs vacuuming, surfaces need dusting - you put off doing them last weekend to focus on other household chores, but this weekend has come around and you’re not any more inspired to complete them.

You hear keys rattle in your front door, the sound startling you enough to finally open your eyes, but not sufficiently concerning to warrant leaving your bed. The only person who owned keys to your place was your boyfriend and though you didn’t want him to see the mess you were living in, there wasn’t anything you could do in the two seconds it would take for him to open your door.

As if instinctually he knows you’re still snuggled up in bed, you hear his heavy footsteps striding steadily towards your door.

Bracing for the furious displeasure you have been conditioned to receive from ex partners when they discovered you in a relapse, you pull the covers tighter around yourself as if to shield you from what was about to happen.

“Stevie…” Your voice is soft, vulnerable as he enters the room, but it’s not pity nor annoyance you see in his eyes, which you had been expecting, but instead they are brimming with concern.

“Hey darling.” His honey voice is slow and smooth, soothing the jittery anxiety ricocheting through your mind and chest. “Not feeling too good?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you shake your head anyway, clutching the duvet closer to your chin. Steve pulls his shirt over his head, rounds the bed and climbs in next to you.

“C’mere.” His strong arms envelop you and pull you into his strong chest, the weight of them on your back and his musky scent, which now consumes your senses, is the secure reassurance you’ve been needing all week that you’re not completely alone in this brutal world.

He doesn’t ask what’s the matter with you, doesn’t ask why you’ve barely answered his messages all week, why your home is a complete mess or why you’re laying in the dark at noon on a weekend. He doesn’t make you justify your change in behaviour, why you kept him at arm's length, doesn’t scold you for your absence as other people have done in the past. Instead, he kisses your forehead, whispers that you’re safe with him as he gently rubs his hand up and down your back.

He could have easily chastised you for withdrawing into yourself and not seeking help, could have pointed out the state your home was in, or mentioned that you smelled in need of a shower, but he does none of that. Rather, he tells you over and over again that you’re loved, ingraining the notion in your mind so that you won’t ever forget, placing kisses over every inch of your face he can reach while still holding your body close.

The sound of his beating heart lulls you to a peaceful sleep, feeling safe and treasured, and for the first time this week like you don’t have to carry the weight of expectation and hollow desolation all on your own.

* * *

When you wake, the warmth provided by your sturdy boyfriend is missing. Distress fills your chest for a moment, thinking perhaps Steve coming to soothe you to sleep was a figment of your imagination, until you hear the faint sound of movement from the main living area.

With an effort you believe rivals running an entire marathon, you push the sheets off yourself, heave yourself out of bed and trudge into your kitchen, but not before noticing that the clothes that were strewn over your bedroom floor this morning were no longer there.

Once your eyes adjust to the light you notice Steve hunched over your sink, elbows deep in soapy water doing your dishes. Part of you is thankful, you’ve been needing to do them all week and just hadn’t found the energy or motivation. But another part of you, deep in your chest, feels ashamed - you have to rely on your boyfriend, who has a hectic enough life of his own, to do something as simple as washing your dishes. How pathetic.

“Steve, I can do them.” You declare, lumbering over to the counter, feeling somewhat relieved to see there’s only half the number of dirty pots and pans as was there when you left them last night.

“It’s okay darling, I’ve already got my hands wet…”

“I don’t want you doing my dishes for me, Steven.” You don’t know why those particular words leave your mouth, because seeing the dishes you had failed to clean the last few days finally have the grime scrubbed off them alleviates some of the hefty gravity pushing you chest so tight you almost can’t breathe. But it also makes you feel incapable, worthless and weak.

You’re not sure what quality it is in your voice that indicates it, but Steve immediately removes his hands from the bubbly water, dries them quickly on the back of his pants and pulls you into his chest just as tears you didn’t realise were coming start silently streaming down your cheeks.

“Shhh, it’s okay, deep breaths for me baby.” His large hands rub soothing circles around your back as your tears dampen his shirt. You try your best to follow his instruction, slowly take deep breaths and calm the flow of untameable misery pouring out the corners of your eyes, but your throat starts constricting and each new tear running down your cheeks evokes two more.

You just want it to end. You want to be able to function like a regular human being without exhausting all of your energy reserves by simply getting out of bed.

You just want to be normal. Be someone Steve can be proud to call his girl. Not someone who struggles to do the simplest of tasks.

When Steve senses that your flood of emotions isn’t subsiding, he shuffles with you in his arms towards your bathroom, whispering that the warm water of your shower will help refresh you.

He helps lift you onto your bathroom countertop, kissing away the stray tears on your cheeks before turning on the shower. While he tests the temperature of the water with one hand, his other maintains hold on yours - even just the connection to him helps in your attempts to calm yourself down. He’s here for you, and he isn’t going anywhere.

When the temperature is just how you like it, Steve helps you strip off your clothes and directs you under the stream. You let the water wash over your face, taking some of your worries with them, as Steve steps in behind you.

You can’t tell the difference between your own teardrops and drizzle of the shower as you look up at your boyfriend, grateful for the care and tenderness he’s shown you while you’re at your lowest. No one else has stuck around when they’ve seen you like this, but in this moment you feel nothing but pure love.

You place a gentle kiss to a scar on his bare chest and Steve kisses your forehead in return - a silent message to thank him for being there for you, and him to acknowledge that though you’re unable to voice your gratitude at the present moment, he understands it’s there.

Once Steve washes your hair, knowing the steps of your routine perfectly, and the rest of your body, you step out of the shower feeling like the load you’ve been carrying for the past few weeks has been washed off your back.

Steve smiles as he pulls his own shirt over your head, kissing your nose once your head pops through the hole. Now your tears have settled, you can appreciate the affection overflowing in his baby blues, fondness you don’t believe you deserve, but cherish nonetheless.

Forgetting all about the dirty dishes in the cold, soapy sink, Steve directs you back to your bedroom, climbing in after you and pulling you once again into his strapping chest.

“Darling, you don’t have to carry this burden alone. I’m here for you, and I love you, you don’t ever have to face this by yourself again.” Steve speaks softly into your hairline, the intent and conviction in his voice enough to drive you to tears again.

“But it’s not like I have that much on my plate, I should be able to do simple things like housework. I just… I just can’t. I can’t explain it, my brain just doesn’t allow me to.”

Steve pulls away from you slightly so he has an angle to look at you directly in the eye. It looks like it physically pains him to see you struggling so much.

“My love, you are the strongest person I have ever met. I am so proud of you everyday that you are here with me, that you keep battling your own mind. You’re my fighter, my best girl, and I’m here to help you through this difficult patch. For better or worse. In sickness and in health, I love you.” He punctuates his declaration with a sweet kiss, reinforcing his words.

“We’re not married Stevie.” You point out, but he simply smirks at you.

“Not yet.”

Before Steve Rogers you believed love was tumultuous and torture, that it was meant to tear you in half, because you cared about the other person so ardently it left you bloodied and bruised. But Steve proved to you that wasn’t love - love isn’t supposed to feel like you’re going to war, instead it’s comfort, it’s a reassuring embrace of someone who has seen your battle scars and tells you it’s time to rest.

Love is solace.

And Steve Rogers is certainly your solace.

hello!! im such a big fan of your work, your joe fics makes me feel soft and loved 🥺 i was wondering if i i could please maybe request something about him dating a shy reader who has a stutter and tends to get frustrated about her stutters when she's trying to talk or tell a story? i'll be starting therapy for my stutter next week and i'm feeling a bit nervous 😅 thank you so much! i hope you have the loveliest day ! 😄💖

aaa baby thank u so much i love u :(( good luck with the therapy next week! sending kisses mwah mwah!!

the gentle dialogue from the low volume of the tv makes him laugh, though you think he only he does that because there's this obnoxious laugh track that follows after a lame joke. albeit you smile at the sound of his baritone giggle, closing the door gently behind you.

you see his head pop up from the couch, the vibrant abstract of his happy socks padding across the floor once he sees you. he smiles brightly, opening his arms, and you meet him halfway.

he grunts when you gently tackle him with a hug, your arms around his torso, swaying gently. he presses his lips on the crown of your head, his warmth radiating through your cold body.

"hey, baby," joseph greets softly, pulling away but keeps his hands on your biceps. "how are you? how's your day?"

you swallow thickly, the words at the tip of your tongue. "i- it-it was good! um- uh, it was a bit b-boring and–"

his eyebrows raise. a silent go on.

you try to speak again. "um- they– were g- this is stupid,"

"hey, baby, no!" joseph bends down lightly, lips twisted into an empathetic pout. "come on, baby. it's not stupid. tell me, come on."

the words refuse to cooperate with your mouth, apparently. your lips clamp shut, hands clenching into a fist and bunches up his shirt. joseph senses your frustration and slowly brings his hands to your shoulders; eyes sympathetic rather than pitying, his lips into a frown.

when you sigh in irritation, removing a hand to place your wrist against your forehead, he speaks up. "you can do this, love. just rehearse it in your mind, yeah? gotta speak slowly so you can enunciate it better. can you try for me, baby?"

you refuse to meet his eyes, suddenly nervous with your cheeks burning in embarrassment. you stare at the button of his nose instead, focusing on the feeling of his hands that move to cup your jaw, and wonder how he's got this very long patience for you.

joseph's always too kind to you. and although he's like this with everyone, it leaves you lovestruck. it's a silly feeling that makes your belly swarm with butterflies to see how patient he is to hear you speak, how bright and happy he gets when you get through your stutter and tell him something that gets him just as excited as you are.

"i..." you look up at him, see his raised eyebrows, the curves on his forehead and the anticipation across his face that makes your heart warm. "my day was o-okay. i saw- i saw a stray dog outside. he- he's so cute, joey. he s-saw me, and his tail star- started wagging, right? a-and he made thes- these small whines and i j-just felt so bad not being a-able to give- give them some food,"

"uhuh,"

"and i w-was gonna ask if it's o-okay with you if w-we– we can take out some food for- for him?"

joseph smiles proudly, leaning in to press a kiss on your forehead; a long, doting one that singes beautifully against your skin. "atta baby. did well for me, yeah?" you giggle. "we can take food out for him, honey. give me your bag and i'll get my shoes, 'kay? then we can go visit the dog."

your heart aches, feeling proud of yourself for the success of finishing a sentence. but mostly because joseph's thrilled. his kiss tingles against your skin. and when he comes back from the bathroom, your bag gone and a pair of shoes that contrasts rather horrifyingly against his socks, your can't help but smile.

"let's go feed that dog, yeah?" he slings an arm around your shoulder, pressing his lips against your hair and pulling you closer to him. hips flush against one another. "now, why don't you go tell me more."

Imagine comparing Bucky to a cat. And it absolutely offends him. How dare you compare his metal and muscle to something small and fluffy. How dare you.

But you do dare.

And so does Steve, Sam and Tony. 

Every single time. 

He can’t help that he has many kitty like qualities. Disliking loud noises. Falling asleep mid day under a patch of sunlight. Slinking away from crowds. Soft, shiny, well kept, hair. Clean. Picky with meeting new people. Stretches. Grumpy. Liked his alone time. 

Still.

He was a trained assassin, how dare any of you. 

“Look, hes doing it again” Sam can’t even hold back his snort, watching Bucky cock his head curiously while cleaning his gun, eyes laser focused on the intricate little spaces, “If he had a tail, it’d be swishing back and forth right now” 

“I’ll show you a tail” Bucky shoots back a glare, having heard Sam’s poor attempt at a whisper, a deep growl emitting from his chest, which only makes everyone else laugh harder. 

“Is that a purr I hear” Tony sasses, and for a moment, Bucky considers pouncing over the sofa. 

“I think that’s his version of a hiss” you giggle, his eyes narrowing at you in response. 

“Not you too, doll” Bucky grumbles, ignoring the way your teasing makes him blush. His bottom lip juts out into a pout he has no control of and you can’t help reaching over to gently scratch his scalp. 

“Awww, c’mere” You massage his head, cooing when he lets out a satisfied hum, his eyes closing at the feeling of your nimble fingers. 

“Now that’s a purr” Sam mused, reaching over to pet Bucky’s head, only to have his hand swatted away. “See?!” He’s picky like one too” 

“M’not picky, just don’t want your feathery hands on me” Bucky mumbled, eyes still closed, nuzzling more into your touch. 

“Oh, but y/n’s hands are fine?” 

Bucky responded with another content rumble, setting down the gun he was cleaning and stretching his long legs out, laying his head onto your lap, letting you continue your gentle scratches. 

“Such a punk” Steve shook his head, giving Bucky’s hair a ruffle as he walked by only to have Sam and Tony scoff when his hand wasn’t wacked away. 

“C’mon!” 

“He’s worse than we thought” 

Bucky snickered to himself, closing his eyes and curling further into your lap. 

Maybe being so cat like, wasn’t so bad. 

That was so cute

Uncle and nephew

How Eddie came to Wayne. This damn near made me cry, y'all.

Wayne hadn’t known what to do when his sister called him crying, her husband had been arrested again, and Eddie was nowhere to be found; at least so she though. Wayne knew she was drunk – probably worse than that – so he came running to her trailer which was just down the road of his own.

He screamed the kid’s name in hopes of finding him somewhere in the park, but to no avail. When he got to his sister’s trailer, she was sitting in the corner, knees tucked into her chest, still frantically crying. Wayne knew what had happened: Her useless husband had probably started some shit and things became physical quickly, leaving her with yet another bruise, another cut, or whatever it was this time. He had seen her in this state one too many times, feeling forlorn as to how to help her.

Wayne had made the decision then and there that if – when – he found Eddie, he would take the kid home with him. His sister and her husband’s presence was no safe environment for a three-year-old, and even though Wayne himself didn’t have much to offer, he would make ends meet.

Before resuming his search for Eddie, he called his sister an ambulance. Although he didn’t have it in him to comfort her, he still cared enough to let her be taken to a hospital to get the treatment she needed, his priority being Eddie.

Wayne found the little boy cowering beneath his parents’ bed, hands pressed against is face, shaken by the sobs that were leaving his mouth.

“Hey buddy”, Wayne whispered to him softly, “it’s okay. You can come out now, daddy’s gone. And mommy’s getting help now, too.”

The boy peaked through his fingers to look at his uncle.

Wayne didn’t have any children of his own, he wasn’t particularly good with them anyway. But somehow, he had always had a soft spot for the curly-haired, brown-eyed boy. He was looking at him, eyes blown in terror.

Wayne reached out his hand. “Come on, let’s make a deal. If you come out from under the bed, I’ll make you pancakes. How’s that sound?”

Eddie’s sobs calm slightly. He crawls towards his uncle. “Promise?” – “Pinky promise.” Wayne smiles as the boy takes his hand.

Eddie didn’t realize until late into his adulthood that that promise wasn’t just about pancakes. It was about his uncle doing anything in his power to keep him safe.

OK but Eddie having already known about the monsters in Hawkins because he ALSO found a lil slug boi scavenging in the trailer park and adopted it.

Much like D'Art it did also die when the gate closed, and Eddie was for a few weeks completely inconsolable cause he figured he did something wrong, but it never left with the others, didn't attack people, or other animals because Eddie fed it properly and while it was connected to the flyer, it chose to stay with Eddie.

Eddie had it fetching sticks and asking for belly rubs haha.

Imagine Eddie catching you with your glasses on!!!

Why I am thinking about this? Because I wear glasses myself but I hate them sometimes. I don’t want to wear them outside but I have to because if I don’t I literally don’t see anything that far away. Funfact: when I‘ve met Grace, Joe, Gaten and Jamie at the GCC in December they said the loved my hair and glasses and that‘s the only reason I‘m ok with wearing them outside🥹🥹 Grace even took a picture of me because she said I looked cute and one day later we had the same hair cut💔

ANYWAY I imagining it like this:

You‘re never wearing your glasses outside. Never. If someone would see you with them you‘d dig your own grave because it would be so embarrassing for you. It just doesn’t fit into the whole "you“ concept. Always wearing black, looking like a Rockerchick, just matching with your boyfriend Eddie all the time. If you’d wear your glasses which have a slight golden frame, just to see what‘s written on the board, everyone would probably laugh at you. Not like you care what others think but you‘re afraid that your friends will laugh about it too. They love to tease you, so they‘d definitely tease you about you wearing glasses too.

The "Rockerchick" has to wear glasses, how funny.

And your biggest fear? Eddie finding out that you literally can’t see shit and he starts to make fun of you. Or even worse, what if he thinks you look stupid?

Eddie‘s probably the last person to judge someone because of their look. Especially if the other person is someone who’s important to him, and you definitely are. You know that but the fear of not being perfect for him is too big. So you just keep it your little secret.

One day you‘re lying in your bed, wearing nothing but one of Eddie’s tees and your panties since you’re home alone. A book lingers between your hands, you’re adjusting your glasses on top of you’re nose and you‘re about to turn to the next page when you hear a knock on your window. Mindlessly you turn your head to look at whoever decided to visit you in the middle of the night, completely forgetting that you had your glasses on. That’s until you see your boyfriend’s surprised face on the other side of the glass. Fuck.

It doesn’t take you a second to pull them off your face, throwing them somewhere into the bed before jumping out of it. You walk over to the window, letting your boyfriend climb inside before closing the curtains. "Eddie it’s literally 2am! Why are you here?" You look at him but he doesn’t respond. Instead he walks to your bed and picks up the "Accessoire" that was lingering on your nose just a few seconds ago.

You freeze. He definitely saw you wearing them, there‘s no way he didn’t. You were directly looking at him. Fuck fuck fuck.

"Are these…are these yours?" He looks up at you, still holding your glasses between his fingers,making eye contact which causes you to feel your cheeks burn like fire. His voice is calm, there‘s no judgement in it all only curiosity. A soft sigh escapes your lips and you slowly nod. "Why did you never tell me that you wear glasses Sweetheart?" He laughs softly and you can see how he lifts his hands up to his face, before putting your visual aid on his own nose, testing if he‘s able to see through them like a curious child. Now you‘re the one who‘s laughing softly, answering with a soft nod only.

He puts them down again as he walks over to you before he puts your glasses back on your face, a soft smile forms on his lips while doing so. "You look adorable with them y/n" his voice is barely above a whisper. "You think so?" You whisper back at him, your eyes closed because of how embarrassed you feel. He nods yes "Hell yeah. Even though they also look badass on you" he grins as he places a soft kiss on top of your nose, causing another chuckle to escapes your lips.

Turns out Eddie loves your glasses. He thinks they fit you so goddamn good and they make you look even smarter than you already are. He steals them every now and then to wear them, just to see your precious reaction. Every time he comes over he makes you wear them so your poor eyes can relax a bit.

Yeah, Eddie just loves you so much it‘s unbelievable.

Masterlist

This was so cute!!🥹

Hey! How are you?

I was wondering if you could do one where during a Comic Con a fan ask to Joseph Quinn about some pictures that have been circulating on the internet (in the pictures you can see Joseph and reader walking on the street, holding hands or kissing), like fans are asking if the person on the pictures is his partner. And Joseph just start talking about the reader and blushing by the thought of the reader, like it’s all very fluff and sweet.

I’m sorry if I wasn’t very specific or it’s not understandable, english it’s not my first language. Take the request if you want to and take your time.

Official.

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff

————————————————————————————————————————

A secret relationship was never an easy one to keep, and dating someone so prevalent in the public eye.. secrets don’t tend to last long.

You and Joseph had done a fairly decent job at keeping the relationship private, and out of the media. That is until one night, you’d decided to go out; in celebration of his success in Stranger Things, and to just be in each other’s company after so much time apart.

You and him had just finished dinner, and you were out for a stroll in the streets of London; hand in hand. That’s when you’d spotted a few fans across the street, lights flashing as they captured pictures of you two. You and Joseph both hurriedly made your way to his flat, but not before the photos were already being posted online.

Joseph had yet to come forward about the photos, and the mystery woman in them. Trying his best to just let it blow over instead of blow up.

——————————————————————————

You were sat backstage, watching as the cast of Stranger Things answered questions from the audience. You’d laugh at some of the questions being asked, and adored how supportive the fans were of your boyfriend and his newfound fame.

You see a girl be handed a microphone, looking ever so nervous to be standing there. “Hi, I’m..” She introduces herself. “My question is for Joe Quinn.” Joseph smiles widely, ready for anything she throws at him. “So I’m sure you’ve heard about the photos that have been circulating the internet, of you and a.. mystery woman. I was just wondering, is she your girlfriend?” She shyly asks, and you gasp quietly from backstage.

Your eyes land on Joe, who looks just as shocked as you. You can see the blush spreading across his upper chest and face. He laughs loudly, “That’s quite the question you have there.” Clearly nervous, he looks around at his cast mates.

“But yes, that is my girlfriend. I hadn’t made it official publicly but now seems as good a time as any..” He rambles on, a shy, embarrassed smile on his face as he rubs his face with his hand.

“I apologize for putting you on the spot, but she’s very pretty!” The fans tries to save herself. “That’s okay! I don’t mind, it would be out eventually.. and yes, she is. She’s very pretty.” He takes a quick glance at you backstage, before returning his attention to the fan. His face is bright red, and you can tell he’s a bit flustered.

“Thank you, you’re amazing.” The fan finishes, handing the mic to the next person. “My question is pretty simple, for Joe as well.” The girl starts, and Joe bites his lip nervously. “Can we meet her? Like.. is she here?” Joe laughs loudly, before turning to the event manager, whispering something in her ear. The manager nods briefly, saying something back to him.

“Yeah, she’s here. Fuck it! Why not?” He gasps, covering his mouth quickly. “Can I say that?” He mentally shames himself and the audience laughs. “Be right back!” He gets up, running over to you. Your eyes are wide as he places his hands on your shoulders, “Do you want to? It’ll be quick.” He searches your eyes. You nod, “Fuck it!” You laugh, copying his comment from before. He smiles, taking your hand and leading you onto the stage with him.

The audience goes crazy at your appearance, screaming and pointing. Joe takes the mic, glancing at you with his hand in yours. “This is my girlfriend, (Y/N).” He introduces, holding the mic to you. “Hi, everyone. Lovely to meet you all.” You speak shyly, earning a scream from the audience in return. You laugh before you start to make your way off stage, Joseph stops you, grabbing your hand and places a soft kiss on your cheek before letting you go.

The audience absolutely loses it, crying and screaming with joy at Joseph’s PDA. “Isn’t she lovely?” He laughs into the mic before finding his seat again. You hear someone in the crowd scream, “We love her!” Before they continue on with the questions, and you watch from the back in awe.

It’s official.