Eddie’s Zoned Out As He Prattles Off Care Instructions And Wraps Up The Man’s (very Strong) Bicep,

Stolen Dairy

Word Count: 370

Summary: Bucky doesn’t respect the rules of a communal kitchen.

Warning: Language and a messy kitchen

A/N: This is what happens when @aubzylynn sends me links to help me overcome writer’s block.

Steve hurried into the kitchen that morning, following the sound of yelling and breaking dishes. He was torn between surprise and resignation at the sight that greeted him.

There was broken glass on the floor, remnants of some poor cup or bowl that had gotten stuck in the crossfire. The blender was tipped on its side, a half-blended smoothie spilling out across the counter and dripping onto the floor. Benny Goodman’s “Sing, Sing, Sing” was blaring from the stereo, adding a decidedly ridiculous air of dramatics to the scene playing out in the kitchen. You were perched on your knees on top of the kitchen island whacking Bucky with a wet dish rag which snapped with a painful sound every time it made contact. Bucky had his metal arm raised defensively in front of his face while he chucked pieces of frozen fruit at you with the other.

“Children. I’m living with children,” Steve sighed, hooking his arm around your waist and dragging you off the counter.

“Steve, put me down! No, listen, he deserves it this time!” you whined, struggling to escape his hold on you or at least to put your feet on the ground.

“I didn’t even do anything! I was just trying to make a smoothie, and she came in and started going psycho!” Bucky protested.

“That son of a bitch stole my yogurt!” you yelled, and Steve was forced to devote both arms to holding you as you continued to try to wiggle free.

“How was I supposed to know it was yours? We share a kitchen! I wasn’t aware your dairy was off limits!”

“Alright,” Steve cut in, tossing you lightly onto the couch as you shrieked in protest. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder to keep you from rising. “Buck, go buy her more yogurt.”

“What!?”

“You know how ridiculous she is about food. You either go buy her more, or she’s just going to keep hitting you,” Steve sighed tiredly

“This is bullshit!”

“What’s bullshit is you used all my yogurt to try to make your freaky smoothie! You can’t put plums in a smoothie, idiot! It doesn’t work!”

“You’re the worst.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I hate both of you.”

Tags: @aubzylynn @stephie-rowena

Little ficlet for anyone having a tough time right now 🥰 Joe wants to look after you and make it better 💗

RPF - don’t like, please scroll past

Warnings: talk of depressive episode/fragile mental state/medication. Other than that just lots of gentle, loving Joe being there for you 🥰

You Got Me

Sitting on the floor of the living room, knees clutched close to your chest, you lean your head sideways to rest on the small coffee table. It’s uncomfortable against your temple, but you haven’t got the energy to care enough to move.

Every ounce of strength you have left is being used not to fall apart.

It wasn’t that anything awful had happened to trigger your episode, more that a succession of small upsets all seemed to tumble down on you at once. The weight of the continued sadness and bad feeling became crushing. You could feel the black clouds creeping in, slowly darkening the edges of your vision and seeping into your skin. It tainted everything until it dulled your senses and made you numb to things you would have ordinarily found comfort in. By the time you’d made it home from work on Friday, your chest was tight, heart heavy as a stone from a pain you couldn’t understand, let alone explain.

You feel nothing when keys jangle in the lock. Normally you’d be bouncing with excitement at Joe’s return, running down the hall to pounce on him the moment he stepped through door to shower him in all the love you couldn’t give while he was away.

He toes off his shoes and chucks his bag to one side while calling out your name. You hear him enter the room, and as soon as he spots you Joe’s on his knees in front of your legs. Reaching forward, his hand cups your face, you close your eyes as his thumb strokes tenderly up and down your cheek.

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s happened again?” His voice is whisper soft.

You nod silently.

“How bad, love?”

You’d long ago arrived at a number system to easily express how you were managing. ‘One’ was a bad day but nothing a good cuddle and a talk couldn’t help with, however a ‘five’ meant things were really bad and you were barely keeping it together.

Without looking up, you lift your hand and show him all five fingers. You hear him suck in a deep breath.

He’s only seen you this low once before, and that was a while ago. It’d scared him so much he refused to leave your side for days, until you’d been to see the Dr and finally got some different medication.

Without a sound, Joe shifts down on to the carpet and moves behind you until he’s resting up against the front of the sofa. He reaches forward and holds either side of your hips.

“Come here…”

Encouraging you backwards, he slides you between his legs, spread wide and bent at the knees so you can slot right into the gap. He twists you ever so slightly so your shoulder just presses into him, your head nuzzling his warm, solid chest.

The tears fall then, wave after wave, and you let them. His arms wrap firmly around you, hugging you tight, soft lips rest gently on your temple as he holds you through the sobs.

He doesn’t try and talk you through it, because that’s not what you need right now. He lets you bare your deepest darkest emotions to him without judgement, without expectation of reason, without needing justification. And when the suffocating fog lifts eventually, you know you’ll always love him that little bit more for it.

Joe leans over and grabs the remote, switching on one of your Spotify playlists that you save for days like this. A song comes on, and you instantly cry harder, because it both breaks you and pieces you back together every time you hear it.

When the fear takes you down

When the doubt takes you under

When you sink like a stone

And you can't breathe

When the tears take control

When the demons take over

Won't be in this alone

You got me

Joe lowers his head to yours, and he hums along to the words that mean so much to you. The sound reverberates in his chest, and you feel it seep into your skin, sinking into your bloodstream with every note. He murmurs along to the next verse…

When the walls all cave in

When the nights all get colder

When you hang by a thread

Of sanity

Rest your head on my heart

And your pain on my shoulders

Make your way to my arms

'Cause you got me

As the song ends, your breathing finally settles, and the tears ease. You feel yourself being rocked slowly in his strong arms. The movement is repetitive, predictable, soothing.

A hand reaches down to play with your fingers, thumb tracing lines and patterns on your skin to ground you and connect you to your anchor. He brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses each one as tenderly as if they were made of glass and he’s scared of making you shatter.

“I love you, baby” Joe murmurs into your hair, stroking away the strays that have broken free.

“I know…” You whisper back, because it’s all you can manage, but he knows in his heart that’s your way of reciprocating his words.

He squeezes you tight and you breathe him in. He isn’t going anywhere, and neither are you.

•••

The song referenced in this fic is called You Got Me, by Gavin DeGraw and I highly recommend listening to it. It’s been a favourite of mine for years 💞

Can I request a fluffy Joseph Quinn x fem. reader oneshot where Joseph x reader take their baby girl trick-or-treating for the first time?

Trick or Treat!

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Warnings; Fluff

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

“I wanna go as daddy!” Your 3 year old little girl had told you for the 15th time, after she’d caught a glimpse of him on TV. “Okay, okay, baby. You can go as daddy.” You coo to her softly, “But you’ve gotta eat your veggies for me, yeah?” She nods, a big grin on her face and her big brown eyes full of excitement.

Joseph didn’t know what you and your daughter had planned for her halloween costume, wanting it to be a surprise. It was her very first time going trick or treating and you weren’t sure who of the three was more excited. “(Y/N)! You in here?” You hear Joseph approaching the bathroom door. You gasp, turning to make sure the door was locked. “Yeah! We’ll be out in a sec!” You call back, turning around to finish up the last details of your daughters costume.

You crack the door just enough to peak your head through, “Close your eyes.” You tell him and he chuckles, closing his eyes. You turn to your daughter, “Ready?” She giggles, nodding her head. You slowly open the door, taking her hand and leading her to Joseph. “Okay, open!” You tell Joseph, the biggest grin forming on his face as he takes in the mini Eddie Munson stood before him.

“Oh, you’re joking!” He laughs loudly, and your daughter follows suit. “I’m you, Daddy!” You smile as he glances over at you. “She insisted.” You tell him, and he picks her up, twirling her around. “My little rockstar!” He cheers, and she squeals with happiness. “You ready to go Trick or Treating?” He beams at her, and she nods.

As you guys make your way down the streets, looking at all the decorations and costumes, your daughter stays between you and Joseph; holding onto her little pumpkin bucket. “Let’s go to this one!” She tugs on your sleeve, and you look up to the beautifully decorated house. “Sure, come on!” You take her hand as she drags you as quick as she can to the front door.

Joseph picks her up, “Just press that, okay? Then when they come to the door.. what do we say?” He asks softly, and she pushes the button. “Trick or treat.” She answers, and he grins proudly. The door swings open, an elderly couple standing on the other side. “Trick or treat!” She giggles, holding her little bucket. The woman grins widely at her, “Well, aren’t you just darling! My granddaughter watches Stranger Things!” She glances over at you and Joseph.

“Thank you!” Your daughter giggles, and the lady drops a few sweet treats into the pumpkin. “Have fun, little one!” She calls out as you all make your way back to the sidewalk, making your way to the next house.

After a couple hours of walking around; getting candy and looking at the decorations, you finally make your way back home. Your daughter still radiating excitement. “Let’s see what you got.” You chuckle as you place her on the couch, she claps and dumps her bucket out on the coffee table.

“Woah! Look at all this!” Joseph chimes in, taking a seat next to her. She rummages around the candy, handing some to you and Joseph. “One for me, one for mummy, and one for daddy..” She states, tossing a piece of candy into each of your hands.

After she sorts it all out, the excitement wears down and she starts to grow tired after all the walking. She yawns, laying head down into your lap, her legs swinging over Joseph’s. After a few minutes of you softly rubbing your hand on her arm, she falls asleep. “I can’t believe she went as Eddie..” Joseph smiles down at her. You laugh quietly, laying your head on the back of the couch as you look at him. “She loves you..” You smile, and he leans over, softly kissing your lips. “I love both of you, my sweet girls.”

——————————————————————————

Authors Note: I hope this was good! I don’t remember much about trick or treating, but I absolutely love the idea. 🖤

Happy Birthday Chris! 🩵

Y/N: *is feeling a little down*

Y/N: hey, could you do that thing you do?

Bucky: what?

Y/N: that—that thing you do that like. Makes me feel better.

Bucky: *confused*

Y/N: you know like—the thing:(

Bucky: *realizes* ah, *does that cute Bucky smile*

Y/N: great, thanks:)

can we talk about braiding eddie’s hair bc I feel like he would melt into a puddle at someone playing with his hair. mean metal man goes from >:( to :)

of course we can because i absolutely believe eddie relishes in you playing with his hair and running your nails against his scalp, massaging gently.

it starts while he sits on your bedroom floor, sifting through your mess of records and cassettes. you are as much a music junkie as he is, making dates at the record store long and very expensive.

you make your way to the edge of your bed, legs dangling on either side of his shoulders. your hands subconsciously land on the crown of his head, fingers slotting through the wavy strands and combing down to the ends.

he hums at your touch, rolling his neck to the side and bumping your calf. you begin raking his hair back, pulling it all off of his shoulders. eddie closes his eyes and forgets about finding the perfect album to put on- just wants to feel your hands in his hair.

“can i braid it, baby?”

“hmm?” eddie’s unfocused, distracted by the way the gentle pull against his roots stirs something inside of him he’s unfamiliar with.

“your hair,” you say gently. “can i braid it?”

“yeah, yeah,” he murmurs. “anything you want, princess.”

you opt for two french braids, cascading down the sides of his head. eddie finds it soothing to have his hair played with and styled in a way he could never manage on his own. you absently hum “my love, my life” by abba (a band you’ve yet to sway eddie onto) but he pays no mind to it. he just relaxes beneath your touch, warmth spreading from his chest down to the very tips of his toes as he realizes he’s never felt more safe in his entire life.

you are indeed his love and his life.

I love Eddie Munson so much.

That's it.

That's the post.

Reblog if you agree.

your post just made me think--ok so Steve's ready with foods for every part of your cycle. he comes home from grocery shopping a couple weeks later with tampons and chocolate and is like "ok we're ready for the storm" and reader's just going "...what storm?" and he's like uhh your period should have started today, right? but it did not start today and

bada bing baba boom it's baby time

you’re so right anon!!! steve short circuits at the new info too!! cw: a couple poor period analogies and 1 bad impregnation joke

he’s come in the house whistling away with bags of groceries for your period.

“steve, did you rob a store?” he’s got way too much food for the two of you.

“you’re funny, though i might have the slight of hand for that.” he really doesn’t, “this is for shark week.”

steve jingles the bags as you polish off a glazed donut. “shark week?”

“yeah, the bloody battle between you and your uterus.” your eyebrows pinch together, “it’s supposed to come today.”

“i haven’t gotten my period at all.” you say and steve’s confused, dropping the bags to the counter unceremoniously.

“you’re pregnant.” he says with finality and you scoff.

“i’m a day late harrington, not a week.” you go to reach for another donut.

“alright, i’ll give it a week, but i’m telling you, they’re swimmers baby.”

i'm losing my damn mind right now