🍂 Walk Through The Orange Leaves — Blurbs With Autumn-themed Prompts.

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: at london comic con, naptime for joe’s son interferes with joe’s panel. luckily, joe has a fix for the situation. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dad!joseph quinn x um!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: fluff fluff fluff ab dad joe bc lcc is giving so much kid content it’s driving me wild, joe’s son’s name is anthony 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: listen, @moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown and i have this longstanding au going where you and joe have a son and i NEEDED to write it, especially with all the pictures of babies and kids that we’re getting this weekend :)

By now, everyone on Twitter knew that Joe had brought you and his son to London Comic Con. You and Joe had been spotted entering the convention center on Saturday, tiny 4-year old Anthony in tow, and everyone was waiting for some sort of content with the three of you. Joe didn’t share too much about Anthony online, only the spare picture to his new Instagram every so often, updating his eight million followers on Anthony’s antics, but little Anthony was known and beloved. 

So far, the day had gone well. You stood off to the side and entertained Anthony as Joe took pictures with fans, stopping during every break to get the snuggles and kisses in— Anthony required many Daddy snuggles and kisses, and every twenty minutes, two minutes were allotted for Joe to kiss Anthony’s head, inquire about what he was watching (the answer was always Bluey), and promise more time in the future. You hated how hectic the convention was and how quickly-paced it was, but that was the nature of the event. It was fun to watch your husband interact with all of his fans, and some even spotted you and sent waves and coos towards you and Anthony. 

Eventually, time for Joe’s lunch break came, and he held Anthony in his lap as they both ate their sandwiches that you had made (the upside of a con in London meant no hotel rooms, and your boys got to sleep in their own beds), peanut butter dotted on Anthony’s little mouth as he babbled away at Joe. “So big, Dada!” he exclaimed, stretching his hands wide. 

“Yeah, lots of people, aren’t there?” Joe chuckled, smoothing down Anthony’s thin curls. Anthony resembled Joe to a tee, some baby photos that Joe’s mother had showed you a dead ringer for your son, and Anthony’s big brown eyes widened as he nodded. 

“And they’re all here to see you,” you told him, and Joe scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t know about that,” he said. “I think they’re here to see you.” 

“Me?” you asked. 

“Yeah, my fans love you,” Joe told you. “Everybody today has told me to say hello to you and Anthony. And some people asked about Wes too, actually.” 

You smiled and leaned forward to kiss Joe’s cheek, and your husband blushed under your lips. “I’m so proud of you, Joey,” you told him softly. “You’ve worked so hard for so long, and now… It’s all happening.” 

“And I get to do it with you,” Joe said with a watery smile, and he looked down at Anthony in his lap, still watching Bluey on your phone. “Both of you.” He ruffled up Anthony’s hair and smoothed them down again, an anxious habit that he had picked up recently, and Anthony looked up from your phone and smiled a big, toothy grin at his father. 

“It’s almost naptime,” you said, looking down at your watch, and both of your boys whined and grumbled in protest. Anthony usually didn’t make a fuss over naptime and gladly settled in bed with his blankie and fell asleep for at least an hour, but you knew that the energy and excitement from the con would interrupt his schedule. You had anticipated this, and you pouted as you tugged your son up into your arms. “I know, baby, I know,” you told him. “But you’ll get all sleepy and cranky later if you don’t nap.” 

“B-But Dada!” Anthony said, and he wriggled in your arms, reaching out for Joe. You willingly transferred your son into his father’s arms, and Joe kissed Anthony’s wiggly little head as Anthony added, “Wanna stay with ‘ou, Dada.” 

“I want you to stay with me too,” Joe said, his bottom lip pouting out. “But you need to nap, and I have stuff I’ve gotta do.”

“What?” Anthony asked. 

“Well, I have a panel in a few minutes,” Joe told Anthony. “People ask me all sorts of things, and I answer them. It’s usually very fun. But I can’t bring you, bud.” 

“I mean…” you started slowly. “You could. Just hold him in your lap and let him sleep while you answer the questions. If you want, that is. Or I can just take him back home to nap and we can come get you at the end of the day.” 

“I can hold him,” Joe said, rubbing Anthony’s back. “We’re just gonna cuddle while you nap, aren’t we?”

“Cuddle?” Anthony asked, and Joe nodded. “Okay. Blankie?” 

You nodded carefully and slung off your backpack, opening it and searching through all of your stuff, Joe’s phone and wallet and keys and snacks and all of Anthony’s various accessories, and you finally extracted his fluffy blue blankie. It certainly had been fluffy at one point but, after four years, the fluff had been matted down and it was a little off-color, no matter how many times you washed it. But it was Anthony’s favorite blankie, the only one he slept with, and Anthony cuddled it up to his chest instantly as soon as he got it in his hands. “Thank you, Mummy,” Anthony mumbled, nestling his head under Joe’s chin, and your heart skipped. 

“Of course, baby,” you told him. “Are my boys ready for the panel?” 

“Anthony’s first panel,” Joe chuckled. “We’re ready.” 

Joe carried Anthony (and his blankie) to the stage, smiling and waving at fans as he passed them, and he seemed calm and cool. It was only once you got backstage, in the wings of the stage, that he started to seem nervous. “Is this a bad idea?” Joe asked. Anthony had his head rested on Joe’s shoulder, his brown eyes flagging with after-lunch sleepiness, and he yawned and cuddled up closer into Joe’s chest. “I-I mean, is it unprofessional?” 

“He’s your son, darling,” you told him, adjusting Joe’s jacket to lay right and settling his curls right. “Everyone will understand. And anyway, it’s super cute, and nobody will care if it's unprofessional if it’s cute.” 

Joe nodded, and he rubbed Anthony’s back as his name was announced by the moderator, and you watched Joe walk out onstage, holding his microphone in one hand as he held Anthony in his arms. Instantly, the auditorium was met with coos and aws and cheers, and Joe waved at everyone before he sat down on the small sofa that was provided for him. He mumbled something to Anthony and kissed his head, and your son turned to look at everyone. He waved for a moment, just long enough for everyone to cheer back at him, and he turned back and buried himself in Joe’s chest. 

The crowd died down, and Joe brought the microphone to his mouth. “It’s naptime,” he said, his voice echoing around the room, and he added, “We’ve got our blankie, I think Ant’s gonna suck his thumb, and he’ll be asleep in no time. But I’m excited, let’s begin.” 

Everything Anthony did was met with applause and aws, every moment and wiggle and cuddle into Joe’s warm chest. Joe answered every question with poise and humility, laughing when someone said to say hi to Wes, and Anthony mumbled something that was half-caught by the mic. “Unca Wes?” he mumbled, and Joe frowned, shaking his head. 

“No, no, Uncle Wes isn’t here right now,” he said softly. “But we can see him when we’re done here... It cracks me up that you guys know who Wes is.” 

True to his word, Anthony popped his thumb in his mouth and was asleep within twenty minutes, and Joe noticed it. “Oh, bless him,” he said. “And we’re asleep here. If we’re very quiet… maybe he’ll stay asleep…” Joe paused for a second and kissed Anthony’s head, and the boy didn’t stir, and Joe said, “Yeah, and he’s knocked out. He can sleep through anything at this point. He gets that from me.” Joe laughed a little, making sure that Anthony stayed asleep, and he said, “I’m sorry, what was the question?”

That happened often. Joe would be too distracted watching Anthony sleep and have to have the question asked again, and he flushed and mumbled, “I’m sorry, you guys, he’s just… Parents will understand, he’s only this little for so long. Sorry, I’m sorry, what was the question again?” 

Finally, the time for the end of the panel came, and the last question took Joe a second to respond: “What are you most proud of in your life?” 

“Well,” he started. “I’m proud of myself for a lot, if I can say that without coming off as a douchebag. But my own accomplishments pale in comparison to my wife, she… She’s amazing. I’m constantly in awe of her and all that she’s done for me, all of the late nights she spends with our son while I work, supporting me and loving me and… But this little guy. He blows my mind every day. Even as he’s sitting here, napping, he’s so much more than I ever could have imagined my son to be. I never anticipated being a father, and now I am, and even though it’s been four years, I’m still not used to him and I don’t think I ever will be. He is so smart and beautiful and… Yeah. I’m proud of Anthony. He’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

You smiled and, as soon as Joe came offstage, you pulled him into a kiss. You felt Joe’s hands twitch underneath Anthony, obviously wanting to embrace you as he kissed you, and you pulled Anthony into your arms to allow Joe to hold you tenderly as he kissed your lips. He sighed into the kiss and touched his forehead to yours, and he mumbled, “I love you so much. Thank you for sticking around.” 

“Of course,” you told him. “I love you too, darling.” 

“I wonder if my mum can take Ant tonight,” Joe mumbled, pulling you back into another kiss. “I need some time with you.” 

“You have more con tomorrow,” you said. “Is tonight good for that?” 

“Any night is a good night for that,” Joe chuckled, and you smiled at his naughty cheek. “I think it’s time Ant has a little sister.” 

“You think so?” you asked. “Whatever you say, Mr. Quinn.” 

“And I do say, Mrs. Quinn,” Joe said. “Let me call Mum and see if she can take the little monster. He was so good for me, he just slept the whole time.” 

“He’s not a monster,” you said with a smile, bouncing Anthony as he yawned and started to wake up. His thumb was popped in his mouth and you carefully pulled it out, and Anthony whined and sucked the corner of his blankie into his mouth. “He’s the most special little boy in the world.”

“He sure is,” Joe said, and his big eyes were full of love as he looked at the two of you, his wife and son. “The best boy ever.” 

“I’m so lonely” - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: you finally confess to Eddie how lonely you’ve been feeling. Emotional hurt/comfort

A/N: my first posted ST fic! I’m so nervous. I hope people enjoy this, it may or may not have been heavily inspired by my own feelings of loneliness. If only I had an Eddie lol. Please reblog or comment if you enjoy my work! My requests are open, my rules can be found in my navigation post which is linked in my bio >3

Warnings: discussions of loneliness. Reader sits in Eddie’s lap but no mention is made of size or appearance of the reader. 'Princess' is used as a term of endearment but the reader is gender neutral. No use of Y/N. Not proofread sorry

Word Count: 1.3k

Eddie Munson was the best boyfriend on the planet. You were certain that no one could hold a candle to your Eddie. 

He told you he loved you a hundred times a day - quite literally, he always counted. He’d gaze at you like you’d hung the moon, even when he was meant to be focused on the movie showing in the cinema or the road in front of him as he drove his van. He’d make sure you drank enough water every single day. He’d tie up your shoelaces if they came undone in the street. He was perceptive enough to realise whenever something was wrong, and he’d listen while you vented, before attempting to kiss the hurt away. Eddie was everything to you. But that was part of the problem. 

Eddie wasn’t just your boyfriend, he was your best friend. Which sounds cute. Yet he was your best friend because he was your only friend. Sure, you had fun with Robin and Steve, and occasionally you and Eddie would invite Max and Lucas over to his trailer for a movie night. Although you loved your family, it was a small one. 

In essence, you often felt that the only person you made a difference to in life was Eddie. That the only person who’d notice your absence was Eddie. Sometimes you’d berate yourself for feeling this way - ‘why isn’t that enough?’ - but it simply wasn’t. 

Eddie made you feel loved, constantly. He made you feel seen, he made you feel heard, he made you feel beautiful. 

But whenever he was gone, the loneliness would gnaw away inside you, consuming your mind. A sense of isolation from those around you grew. You could be sitting next to someone on the sofa but they might as well have been a million miles away. The nights you didn’t spend with Eddie, you’d cry and cry until you fell into an exhausted stupor and finally drifted off to sleep. 

Loneliness had even begun to creep into your moments with Eddie. Sometimes you’d drift off into your own little world, especially when he’d mention something he’d done with his own friends, which served as a painful reminder that you didn’t really have any of your own. 

He’d noticed lately that your face seemed to pinch into a frown more often. He tried to convince himself that your sorrowful expressions weren’t because of him, but you had been pulling away lately, skipping plans and coming up with bullshit excuses. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Eddie murmurs as he plops down on the bed next to you. You silently curse whichever member of your family had let him in the house. Because Eddie is right, you have been avoiding him. 

“No I haven’t,” you mumble back, studiously avoiding eye contact. 

“C’mon, don’t lie to me. Please.” If you hear the quiver in his plea, you don’t acknowledge it. 

“Am not.” Eddie huffs at your second lie, dropping off the bed and coming to kneel at your feet. The way his big soft eyes gaze up at you reminds you of the labrador you had as a kid and the way it would beg for treats. Eddie, on the other hand, was begging for something more serious. 

“I love you.” Your voice breaks slightly and you sigh deeply, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. You squeeze them shut, willing them away, but you can feel Eddie’s eyes glued to your face and the tears can’t help but fall. They betray you, as if your poor attempts at lying hadn’t already. 

“I love you too baby.” He knows better than to press you. Shuffling in closer, Eddie places his hands in your lap, letting you fiddle with his rings. You lean forward to press your forehead to his as you sniffle, basking in the scent of his shampoo as his curls draw a curtain around your face. You try to speak but choke on your sobs, squeezing his hands. 

He shifts back up onto the bed next to you, and pulls you into his lap so your chest is touching his. You have no idea how long you spend sitting in his embrace, willing yourself to speak. 

“I just…” Your voice cracks. Silence. He waits. You swallow. 

“I feel like a burden to you sometimes. You’re my only person.” Eddie’s brow furrows. 

“What do you mean sweetheart?” His soft caress on your face is soothing, and encourages you to continue. 

“I know I have family and sometimes we look after the kids and see Robin and Steve, but…” Deep breath. “You’re… you’re the only person who I really have. I feel like you’re the only person who loves me. The only person who’d miss me if I wasn’t here.” 

Tears roll down your cheeks but you make no move to stop them this time. Eddie does the job instead, his thumb gently wiping the moisture away, repeating the action as more tears fall. 

“And I love you so much, it should be enough that the only person I’m important to is you. I don’t know why that isn’t enough, but it isn’t. You make me feel so loved, Eddie. More loved than I’ve ever felt. But I feel so fucking lonely.” At your final admission, your throat closes and you can’t carry on speaking as sobs rack your body. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay my love.” Eddie rocks you back and forth slightly in an attempt to calm you as you sob into his shoulder. You both stay in the same position for a while, Eddie as patient as he always is with you, waiting until you exhausted yourself with your sobs before speaking again. 

“Will you promise me something?” Nodding, you pull away to face him. His thumb wipes the tear tracks on your cheeks with such a gentleness you find yourself wanting to cry again, although this time for a happier reason. 

“Will you promise to tell me when you feel like this? I know I can’t make it all go away but you don’t need to bottle this shit up, princess. You don’t have to fight it on your own.” You crash into his chest and squeeze him tight, prompting him to chuckle into your hair as he draws his arms back around you. 

“I promise,” you mumble into his torso. “I love you, teddy bear.” He flushes and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

“Do you want to talk about it more?” You ponder his question for a few quiet moments, but you’re physically and mentally exhausted from the sobs that had racked your body. 

“I’m too tired Eds, but maybe tomorrow? If you’re really sure you want to listen.” 

“Of course I want to listen. You’re my girl, and that means you never have to deal with anything on your own. I’m right here, sweetheart. Always.” 

Eddie sticks to his word in the morning. Not that you ever doubted he would. 

You guess that Eddie has at least told the others that you need some TLC in the following few days when Will calls just to remind you he loves you, with a sincerity that no one could mistake; when Mike concedes that you’re pretty cool, followed by the awkwardest shoulder punch known to man; when Nancy and Robin rope you into their weekly movie nights - you’d never confess to them that the films they chose were far too highbrow for your taste. 

You don’t think it’s a coincidence either when Lucas invites you on his and Max’s upcoming pinecone collecting adventure in the woods next to Hawkins. You’re absolutely certain it’s not a coincidence when Steve offers to teach you how to drive in his precious BMW, knowing that he’d never willingly let anyone else behind the wheel. 

While Eddie would absolutely claim it’s a coincidence if you called him out, it’s entirely intentional on his part that he now tells you I love you a hundred-and-one times a day.

Please help a writer out and reblog if you enjoyed my work! 💗

steve’s house in the show vs. steve’s house in my head

Noodle - [E.M x Fem! Reader]

a/n: omg Anna writing an ‘x reader’ ???? shocker. anyways this is based on my frustrated dream of getting a ferret. i did some research but because it’s 1 am and i should be sleeping cause i have classes tomorrow— i wrote this instead. if any ferret owners read this, please correct me if i’m wrong on anything regarding caring for those little babies <3 i know the name is basic but honestly, i love it so much and i think Noodle deserves his own series alongside his parents.

warnings: none!! pure fluff

enjoy !!

also enjoy this, because all i can see is Eddie playing with Noodle <3

You sat on your living room couch dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a loose shirt you had stolen from your older brother, a blanket draped over your lap with your furry friend sleeping soundly underneath it. *The Princess Bride* softly played in the background as you fought the urge to join your pet in Morpheus’ arms when you heard the front door open.

“Babe, are you home?” your boyfriend, Eddie called.

“Living room!” you called back, unable to get up to greet him as you didn’t want to disturb your precious child’s sleep.

Eddie walked into the living room, finding you sat down with mentioned blanket over your legs. His face contracted in confusion as it was quite warm outside for anyone to be wrapped in a blanket.

“Hey, darling.” he greeted, settling himself behind the couch as he leaned down to give you a soft and tender kiss on your lips, his curls lightly tickling your face.

“Hi,” you responded while giggling into your shared kiss.

He pulled away, leaving one final kiss on your nose before leaping over the couch and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“May I ask why you’re covered up when you could easily make sunny-side ups on the sidewalk?” he asks, running his hands through your hair and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Well,” you started, unsure of whether to lift the veil of secrets and abruptly and ever so rudely wake up your self proclaimed fur-baby or makeup some random excuse. You opted for the latter and carefully removed the blanket from your lap, revealing the curled up figure of your ferret still sound asleep.

“What’s that?” Eddie asks, taken aback from the sudden revelation of your pet.

You had no idea why you never told him about Noodle — your sable ferret. But nevertheless you were glad that he got to meet your furry companion.

“This little guy,” you say as Noodle stirs awake and sneezes, “is my precious fur-baby, Noddle the ferret.” you proudly announce, placing one hand under the ferret’s chest, the other lifting and supporting its hind legs and bringing him towards you for security.

Eddie seemed to study the little furball for a couple seconds before looking back up at you.

“He’s cute, when did you get ‘im?”

“A couple months ago at the pet store, it was like love at first sight, except this is my beloved son.” you explain as Noodle gets out of your hold and onto his back on your lap, demanding attention which you immediately give to him, and he of course starts dooking.

Eddie smiles at the little sounds coming out of Noodle, but also because you look so content with your newfound friend.

“D-Do you think I could pet him, or hold him?” your boyfriend asks shyly

“Gotta earn his trust first. There’s a bag of treats on the dining table, go get it,” you instruct, he nods and lifts himself off the couch to acquire the bag of treats made up of cooked egg, bits of chicken, lamb, and turkey.

He comes back with the bag in hand, Noodle’s attention immediately being diverted to the familiar rustling of his favorite snacks.

“Alright, get one out of the bag,”

Eddie does as he’s told, setting the bag on the coffee table in front of him, treat on the other hand.

“Bend down to his level and speak softly, you don’t wanna scare him.”

He nods and kneels down on the floor to Noodle’s level on your lap, who looks at him curiously.

“Hey bud, y’know I think you’re pretty metal, despite your cute face and all,” he coos softly, slowly reaching his hand out to offer the treat, “Want a snack? Promise I don’t bite.”

You chuckle a little bit at his efforts to befriend your ferret, who was still in the process of deciding whether Eddie was worthy of his trust or not. Noodle first sniffs around the treat, his fingers, then his hands.

Final verdict: Noodle trusts Eddie.

The fluffy animal takes the treat from Eddie’s fingers, rewarding the human by allowing him to pet him. Eddie’s calloused fingers gently roam Noddle’s long and soft body as he finishes his treat. You watch in amusement how your boyfriend was able to bond with your let almost immediately.

Noodle takes it up a notch and also allows Eddie to lightly tickle his stomach, and he once again starts dooking, the metalhead’s giggles marching up with those of his furry friend.

“You know, I think Noodle needs a dad. He’s got me, his mom, of course. But mayyybe you’d like to join us?”

Eddie smiles as he stands up, taking his seat next to you once again while also entertaining Noodle.

“If Noodle allows me to, I’ll definitely be his dad.”

“Good, cause I’m planning on adopting another ferret.”

Bucky knowing he’s adorable. He knows all he has to do is bat his baby blues and it'll make anyone fold instantly. He's become such a little shit about it too, because he acts so oblivious while knowing exactly what he's doing.

“For fucks sake. No. NO. Do not look at me with those puppy eyes it won’t work” Sam shook his head, refusing to look at Bucky's face while the soldier blinked innocently with a small pout on his lips.

"I didn't do anything" he shrugged, acting as if he hadn't swiped the last cookie with the evidence sprinkled on the front of his shirt.

"You're something else" Sam grumbled, rolling his eyes at the puppy like look Bucky had on his face, "You can't keep making that face and getting away with this, keep your grubby hands away from my oreos"

Sam only manages to keep up the act for so long before reluctantly opening a new box, pushing it towards the brunette who smirks, swiping another handful.

"Unbelievable"

-

"Who the hell broke another punching bag in the gym-

“He’s right behind me isn’t he” Tony deadpanned, knowing Bucky was slinking about somewhere, batting his brown lashes, making his job 100 times harder. "Barnes I swear-

The billionaire turned around to find Bucky tiptoeing around the mess he made with wide, remorseful eyes making the billionaire groan.

"Don't look at me like some dame in the 40's, that cute face won't work on me"

"Did you just call him cute"

"Shut up"

"Well, you're not wrong"

-

"Bucky you're late" you frowned as he ran over to you, dressed in all black, ready to take you to dinner.

"M'sorry doll" He pouted, burying his face into your neck, "Didn't mean to keep you waiting"

"You're doing it again, this is cheating, you can't keep acting adorable and getting away with being late to our dates" you huffed, eventually melting into his needy cuddles, missing his little naughty smirk. Of course he didn't actually mean to be late and he really was sorry but he loved when you fell for his sweet charm.

"Did you see that? That little smirk he just made" Sam hissed while Steve snorted, lowkey happy to see this version of Bucky making its way back. "He gets away with everything, it isn't fair"

"Well I think it's adorable" Nat smiled watching him dote on you while Steve hummed in agreement. "He's a little cutie"

"He's a little shit"

Happiness Will Come To You.

State Your Name (for the Record) - S.R.

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert, emotional H/C

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader       Word count: 5560

Summary:  For a man haunted by nightmares, waking up was an ambivalent process.

For a man in love, the pros outweighed the cons. And make no mistake, Steve Rogers was a man in love. 

In which Steve feels blue, but he can count on his girl to raise his spirits – especially since she can convince his whole team to do something nice for him.

Warnings: implied mission going not so well, angst, crying, self-doubts,  swearing ,fluff and cheesiness of the highest order

Waking up was an everyday process most people considered unpleasant.

For a man haunted by nightmares, either made up by his traumatised mind or simply by pressing re-play on one from the stack of torturous memories, the action was both relieving and exhausting.

Waking up meant the nightmares were over; waking up meant he had to pick himself up and, despite all odds, face another day, even when his body ached and his soul seemed too tired, yet determined to continue to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

For a man in love, the pros outweighed the cons. And make no mistake, Steve Rogers was a man in love.

A woman he proudly called his girlfriend was nothing less than everything he could wish for; she carried beauty in features she considered imperfect, she never failed to make him smile for at least a fraction, her laughter filled his chest with delight as it lit up the room and she was gentle and dorky to a fault. And for he was willing to give her the world, she reciprocated his feelings to full extend.

Keep reading

Hello, Ro!!! 🌻🌻🌻

Okay so I suddenly notice my hair is long enough to nearly my waist

so can I have a fluff one that reader is not aware of her hair became long, she only notice the dryer time became longer🤣🤣🤣

And Steve notices, he choose some beautiful hair tie and learn how to braid hair from Thor, and maybe Tony host a party, and Steve volunteers to braid her hair and she suddenly noticed her hair been so long.

Hehe need some fluff and sweet from this site became too... ppl step into other's territory and say stuff rude. I am tired of this😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Anyway, wish you have a good dayy friend!!

Yeah, I wasn't on for the toxic sh*t that went down yesterday, but I had the privilege of my husband (yes, that guy) shoving that news in my face. I know he did it to provoke me, but not because of the actual news. It was to accentuate quite a few terrible things that don't have to do with what I truly hope is a happy couple.

So let's have some happy couple fluff, shall we?

"It's not even dry yet."

"Ok, then I gotta start getting ready right after work."

"Why do these ties keep breaking? Is the elastic old? What the hell?!"

Your face smacks the pillow, and Steve can see but you can't...apparently.

Your hair covers your shoulders like a blanket, gets trapped when you go to turn over, encircles the column of your neck like a lacy choker, and you haven't figured it out.

Sure, he doesn't understand what you mean by 'crispy ends' or 'arm fatigue' when you're standing in the bathroom, open-legged and practically panting from the effort to do your hair for the night, but he hears the huffs and the sighs. He can understand feeling like losing a battle with your body when you're trying your best. He remembers that.

So one day, he's caught staring at Thor's hair, and that doesn't go unnoticed.

"Sorry, my dear captain, but two beefy blond alphas would not make a good pairing. I am flattered though."

Steve snaps back. "What? No. It's just...your hair, the--" he wiggles his hand by his head "--things."

Thor pulls a strand forward. "Braids?"

"Yeah, those. How do you do that?"

Thor quizzically regards the short crop atop Steve's head and frowns. "I do not believe--"

"Not for me," Steve corrects, "for my girl."

The beefier (is he though?) man lights up with understanding. "Ah, yes, I see. Of course." He then pulls Steve into a side hug and leans in to whisper. "I warn you though. This will be a different challenge than you are accustomed to. It will require patience and much practice."

Steve blanches. How bad can this be? Is braiding harder than sex? Good lord, what has he gotten himself into?

"DAMN IT," you grouch in the bathroom.

"Honey...?" Steve peeks around the doorframe. "Everything alright?"

"No. No, it is not," you whine, sitting on the toilet and burying your face in your hands, a curtain of hair blocking what little light could shine through your fingers. "My hair is too dirty, I don't have time to do it before we need to meet Bucky and Nat downstairs, and I just broke my last hair tie!"

You're on the verge of tears. The last thing you wanted was to bother Steve with this.

"I can help."

You almost laugh. What the hell is he gonna do? Tuck it up under a cowl?

"Come on," he offers, a hand sliding under your elbow, "come sit on the edge of the bed and take a minute."

But with each second that passes you are more and more aware of how the crown of your head will still be damp if you don't start soon, or how your neckline will curl onto itself when it's not properly set and leave an annoying crimp. You barely notice Steve's fingers in your hair.

He's comforting you. That's nice. He does love running his fingers through it, and he's probably trying to prove the point that if it's good enough for him, it's fine to go out with. That's not the point. You want to look good, but a prominent feature on you is unruly and feeling more and more out of control.

His fingers continue gliding through your hair at your temples. Well, no, just one temple.

Then you feel a very delicate tugging instead of his fingers at your scalp.

Then the tugging repeats methodically.

"What are you doing?" You turn to see.

Steve blushes, already down past your shoulder so you can see the braid weaving in his hands.

You look up into his eyes, repeating your question silently.

He shrugs. He simply shrugs.

"I wanted to take care of you," he finally says, and it's at that moment you notice he is still going on that one braid. He's been twisting strand over strand this whole time, sitting with his leg bent on the bed between you, and he doesn't have to lean forward anymore.

It's so damn long.

That's it. That's the moment. When was the last time you got it cut? You can't even remember. There's been so much going on, and you're lucky you've been drinking water much less scheduling outside appointments for personal care.

"I love it, you know," Steve mutters as he pulls out a tiny string of leather, deftly affixing it to the end of the braid, and starting a new one just above it. "I love it every single day. Long or short. Washed or unwashed."

He pointedly smirks and leans forward to kiss that closest temple.

"And if I love it that much, I should help you love it, too."

When he's done with the second one, he pulls out another leather tie.

"Thor?"

Steve nods and then stands. Before he sits on the other side of you though, he rummages through his side of the closet to produce a Target bag, sheepishly handing it over.

"I bought you some things, too, but those were all he taught me with."

Inside the bag is clips and elastics, big and small. Headbands. Scrunchies. Two head scarves. Bobby pins with decorations and plain ones the color of your hair. It's quite the stash.

You see the receipt at the bottom, probably kept to return anything you don't like. "Steve, how much did this all--"

He snatches the paper out of your hand. "NOTHING," he shrieks a little too loudly.

And now you really have to laugh. Yes, Steve has an artistic side. Yes, he likes all his variety of pencils and charcoals.

But this?

He can't use this skill on anything but you.

He spent time learning and shopping for only you.

You sniffle at the end of a relieving belly laugh, sighing one more time but in pure contentment.

"Ok, coiffure," you announce, angling yourself away to present your loose locks. "Better finish up."

He sits down happily, keeping the bag open for you to choose from.

"Stick with the leather--" you shrug "--I have some boots to match."

There you have it, Notoriously Lovely Nana! I hope you enjoyed it, and I'm rooting for us all to have more positivity today and beyond.

Thank you for trusting me with the feels.

🥰

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

Y/N: I’m not lazy, I just find it hard to put effort into things I’m not passionate about.

Steve: What are you passionate about?

Y/N: Sleeping.