I’m A Huge Fan Of This Gif Of Dacre And Joe. What A Bunch Of Dorks. ❤️

He calling her Mommy. I'm dying here.

Eddie: *sneaking in through Steve’s window*

Steve: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Eddie: I was with Robin?

Robin: *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

Flufftober Day 15

Double Prompt: "What are you wearing?" / "It's Laundry day!" + "Yes. No. Maybe."

Pairing: Steve Rogers (Captain America) x Reader

Warning/Tags: FLUFF, allusions to sex/innuendo at the very end, established relationship, petnames (sweetheart)

Summary: It's laundry day and you whip out your handy cosy outfit you wear when Steve isn't around. However, Steve comes home early...

Word count: 879 words

A/N: Hello! I am currently in Wales for the week so my future posts will be via mobile rip I've just had a 6.5 hour drive I am not ok

also, this one is inspired by the fact I have one of these <3- Love, Grem x

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How you'd managed it, you never knew.

Keeping an item of clothing expertly hidden away from your boyfriend to save yourself an embarrassing conversation was nothing short of a miracle in your shared apartment. However, when Steve Rogers was busy playing Captain America elsewhere in the world, it came out. Especially on cold days such as this and when there were no clean clothes (who are we kidding ? Pyjamas) left to wear.

Today was laundry day and Steve was away on a mission. Which meant one thing; out came The One.

You waddled to the kitchen grasping the overflowing washing basket, dumping it unceremoniously into the middle of the kitchen to better pile the washing. Four distinct piles later (whites, colours, darks and delicates), the first load of washing went on. You stood and watched the machine grumble to life, slowly pushing the clothes in lazy circles. With a heavy sigh you padded back into the bedroom and began the tedious task of stripping the bedding.

A simple pleasure in life was clean sheets. Soft, clean cotton smelling like it had been dragged through a field of spring flowers made the effort of stripping and re-assembling the sheets worth it. Even if they wouldn't stay clean for very long. Regardless, your boyfriend would be appreciative (if he noticed before he collapsed into the bed as per usual after a long mission).

Bedding stripped, and feeling slightly sweaty, you headed back to the kitchen to make yourself a drink. You wondered about Steve and how his mission was going as you idly sipped at your glass. Long missions were always a pain since Steve couldn't talk at regular times, meaning you were often left wondering what kind of state he was in. Though, worrying yourself silly wasn't an option.

Shaking your head trying to rid yourself of thoughts of your blue-eyed, blond bombshell, you pulled out your phone and started up your cleaning playlist. You may as well continue to be productive after all! First, kitchen counters were wiped down with swaying hips. Then, the fridge was deep-cleaned with off-key singing. Then the trash taken out and so on, to the sound of your off-key voice and occasional dance move.

By the time you'd snuck back into the apartment (after dodging your nosy elderly neighbour near the stairs) the washing was done. Bending down to collect the damp laundry and belting out lyrics to a timeless tune of ABBA's, a familiar voice spoke. Startled you drop the clean clothes with a squeak, spinning to see who had entered.

"What are you wearing?" Steve chuckled from the kitchen doorway. He was dressed casually in T-shirt and jeans, holding his kit bag. He had come back from his mission early.

He had come back from the mission early.

" I –" You begin realising you had been caught red-handed and red-faced. " It's laundry day!" You say, two octaves higher than you wanted.

Steve bites back a grin as he looks at you stood in the middle of your kitchen in a Captain America onesie. It was the retro costume, bright cerulean blue, red and white. There was even a hood with the wings embroidered on. Not to mention the zipper that was his shield. It was too big for you but you looked cosy and cute.

"Okay..." Steve finally says slowly, raising an eyebrow as you cover your face. You're too cute. "Have you been hiding this from me, Sweetheart?"

You shuffle your feet. You wanted to combust on the spot. You wore an arguably cuter version of your boyfriend’s damn costume and he's found you in it.

"Yes. No... Maybe." You mumble from behind your hands. "I didn't know you'd be home so soon."

"Thought I'd surprise you." You can hear the smirk in Steve's voice and it only makes you feel more flustered. "Looks like you beat me to it."

"I can explain," You say quickly but as you move your hands away you can see that Steve is chuckling at you. Your heart hammers as embarrassment flushes your cheeks. You sigh, defeated, and give him a quivering, embarrassed smile.

Steve drops his bag and strides forward, wrapping his strong arms around you and kissing the top of your head.

"You look amazing as always." He teases.

"Shut up." The feigned huff of annoyance isn't lost on Steve and it only makes him smile wider.

"I mean it," He leans back to look down at you with his goofy grin. He gently brushes a wisp of hair out of your eyes. "This is a nice surprise to come home to.”

You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight, resting your head against his chest. "Har har, very funny." You look up at him and feel yourself grinning. "I'm glad you're home."

"Glad to be home... but aren't you hot in that?" Steve's brows furrow at you. The material is plush and thick, there's no way you wouldn't be boiling. Steve fiddles with the shield zipper between his fingers, wondering where did you buy this from.

"I uh..." You give him a sheepish smile. "Only have underwear on underneath."

Steve eyebrows shoot up and he gives you a playful grin. "Oh, this is definitely better than my suit."

This is my first time writing for Steddie, so sorry if it's shit! Based on this post.

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No one had ever seen Steve cry, and at this point they weren’t sure it was even something he was capable of. So, as he stood over Eddie’s open casket with the only dry eyes in the room, no one really batted an eye.

It had been 3 weeks since Steve had carried the metalhead’s body out of the Upside Down, with Dustin leaning heavily into a misty eyed Robin and Nancy as he limped alongside them, tears still streaming from his eyes. Steve hadn’t shed a tear then, and he didn’t shed one now. It wasn’t because he didn’t care for Eddie, in fact he probably cared for him far more than he’d admit to even himself, but something just didn’t feel right. It was hard to grieve for someone when it didn’t truly feel like they were gone.

Eddie’s uncle had arranged the funeral to be a quiet affair, hoping to minimize the chances of any angry hicks’ gate crashing. So it was held in a small room at the morgue, with only close friends and family in attendance.

After a short speech from Wayne, everyone filtered through to say their own goodbyes. Mike and Lucas both stood by the casket momentarily, gripping the sides and saying their own quiet goodbyes. Erica didn’t say much, just placed a small black dice beside one of his hands before nodding down at him. Nancy went up with Johnathan and whispered a quiet thank you, letting her hands brush a stray lock of hair from his face. Dustin stood there in silence just staring down at Eddie’s still form before choking out a promise to look after Eddie’s ‘little sheep’. And then it was just Steve and Robin left in the room. Robin tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him with big pleading eyes until he nodded and walked up with her, he stood beside her as she whispered a soft goodbye, eyes then looking to him to do the same.

“Could I… I just need a moment with him, if that’s okay?” he said quietly, smiling gratefully as Robin just squeezed his hand and nodded before also exiting the room.

Eyes doing a quick check around the room to make sure there was nobody left to witness what he was about to say, Steve let his hands rest against the wood of the casket and leant down towards the long-haired man.

“Okay, you listen here you little shit, I know you’re not dead.” Steve whispered; eyes firmly trained now on Eddie’s face. His grip against the wood only getting tighter as the silence stretched on.

“Fuck.” he breathed, hanging his head at the lack of response, before turning to start walking away.

“Yeah, no shit Harrington.” Came the gravelly response from behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

As he slowly turned on his heel, he watched as Eddie pushed himself up into a sitting position, an almost familiar grin on his face had it not been for what looks like two fangs pushing down over his lower lip.

“What the hell, man?” Steve exclaimed, almost storming back over to the casket and taking Eddie’s face in his hands and tilting him from left to right to get a better look.

“Nice to see you too, Stevie.” Eddie murmured; cheeks being squished slightly by Steve’s grip on him.

“How long have you been, well not dead?” Steve huffed; brows furrowed as he let his gaze roam over the other man’s body.

“Honestly man, I have no clue. I woke up a couple of times, but this has been the first time I was actually able to move. Fuck, it really hurts dying y’know.” Eddie groaned, stretching all his limbs out and rolling his shoulders as he let his hands pick at the tight material of the black jacket he was dressed in, “Of course Wayne would take this opportunity to get me in a suit, I love the old man, but shit.”

“Really? I don’t think our biggest problem right now is your style choices, you’ve literally come back from the dead man.” Steve grumbled with a hand nervously running through his hair.

“Ooo, now that’s where you’re wrong Stevie boy, it’s always about the style choices.” Eddie grinned, loosening the tie that was around his neck with a grimace, "Anyway, what's the plan for breaking me out of here? Cus I don't know about you man, but I don't exactly love the thought of being buried alive."

“Look, you’re not meant to be being buried until tomorrow, can you just hang tight for a few hours? I can come by later tonight and sneak you out when there's nobody around” Steve said, hands landing like a disappointed parent on his hips.

“Harrington. You cannot be asking me to, what? Play dead?” Eddie scoffed, the realization slowly showing on his face as he realised that Steve was deadly serious. “Nah man, come on, there’s gotta be a better way than that?”

“Well, unfortunately for you, I don't think there is. You’ll get recognized the second you step out those doors, and I don’t know about you man, but I’m not exactly in the mood for a lynch mob right about now.” Steve said, raising an eyebrow as Eddie visibly deflated.

“Fine. Fine, but you better come back for me Harrington!” Eddie sighed, pointing an accusatory finger at the other man as he lay back down with a huff.

“Always, Munson.” Steve replied, knocking his knuckles against the side of the casket with a soft smile, missing the slight pink that rose in Eddie’s cheeks as he slipped out the room.

I love Eddie Munson so much.

That's it.

That's the post.

Reblog if you agree.

Zack and Cody showing up at that restaurant at 7:30pm tonight:

Pregnancy Pillow vs Captain America

Pairings: Dad-to-be Steve Rogers x Pregnant Reader. Themes/Summary:Light-hearted. Steve is feeling lonely on his side of the bed, and it's the pregnancy pillow's fault. A/N: I haven't been giving Steve some love lately. . . so here a cute little oneshot of how he will react when y/n brings out the pregnancy pillow. I don't own any of the images ya'll credits to their owners.

tags: @mrsevans90 @haruvalentine4321

Steve comes out of the ensuite after his shower, his white t-shirt clinging to his body and hair damp. He throws you an easy smile, the kind that makes his blue eyes crinkle at the corners, as he heads towards the bedroom. But the moment he steps inside, he halts mid-stride, staring at the bed like it’s personally offended him.

There it is again: the pregnancy pillow. An immovable, unforgiving barricade that now divides your once-cozy bed like a dam, stretching from one end to the other. Steve tilts his head, squinting at it as if that might reduce its size.

He throws his hands on his hips and sighs dramatically. 

“You know, I fought Hydra,” he says, voice dripping with exasperation. “I’ve been through hell and back. But this—” he gestures to the pillow, “—is the one enemy I can’t seem to defeat.”

You burst into laughter from your side of the bed, propped up by a series of other pillows meant to cushion every conceivable ache or discomfort. “Steve, it’s a pillow.”

“It’s a monstrosity,” he argues. “It’s like the Great Wall of China, but made out of—” he pokes at it cautiously, like it might snap back at him, “—fluffy foam and… whatever this is.” He groans, flopping down onto his side of the bed with a huff.

“Pregnancy pillows are supposed to be supportive,” you say in an exaggeratedly sweet tone, rolling your eyes.

“Supportive?” He scoffs, attempting to squeeze his hand through the tiny gap between the pillow and your hip. “It’s so supportive I need to make an appointment to get within three feet of my wife.”

You press your lips together, trying not to laugh as you watch him contort, his long arms flailing. “I know it’s not ideal, but I need it, Steve.”

“Why does it have to be so big?” He sounds like a sullen child, tugging at the end of the pillow like he’s considering wrestling it out of the bed entirely. “Can’t they make a smaller one? One that doesn’t make me feel like I’m living on the opposite side of the planet?”

You shake your head. “Trust me, if there were a way to make it smaller and still work, I’d be using it.”

Steve finally manages to get a bit of his arm over the pillow’s edge, his fingers barely brushing your shoulder. He lets out a soft noise of triumph, and then—he leans in close, his forehead almost bumping the pillow’s fabric. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, as if the pillow itself is an eavesdropper. “Wanna come over to my side?”

Your laugh breaks out fully then. “Are you trying to seduce me over a pillow, Rogers?”

“Absolutely,” he deadpans, his face all faux-seriousness. He wiggles his eyebrows and purses his lips. “I’ve got ‘plenty’ of space over here, you know. Might be a little lonely, though. Could use some company.”

You lean back into the pillow, giggling at the sight of this fully-grown super soldier pouting at a piece of fabric. “I’m not crawling over this thing. You’ll just have to wait until the baby’s born.”

Steve blinks, his face crumpling in over-the-top shock. “Wait. Until the baby is born? That’s months away!”

“Yup.” You nod solemnly, enjoying the way his mouth drops open.

“Months?” He repeats, shaking his head as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “I’m supposed to be a dad in a few months and I can’t even get a hug?”

You finally give in, shifting to face him. 

“C’mere, you big baby.” With some maneuvering, you manage to reach over the pillow, clasping his face between your hands. He grins triumphantly and leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as if it’s the greatest victory he’s ever won.

Steve kisses your palm, peeking an eye open at the pillow. “We’re not done yet, pillow,” he mutters dramatically, earning another peal of laughter from you.

He straightens and stares at the pillow again, rubbing his chin like he’s trying to come up with a strategy. “Maybe… I can find a way to make this work.”

“Oh really?” you tease. “You’re gonna outsmart a pillow?”

“Absolutely.” He nods firmly. “If I can’t get past it, I’ll just have to—” With sudden determination, Steve heaves his leg over the top of the pillow, straddling it awkwardly like he’s mounting a wild horse. You raise an eyebrow, biting back a grin.

“Steve—”

He shushes you, waving a hand. “Shh. Let me have this.”

You watch, thoroughly amused, as he tries to maneuver his entire body over the pillow without crushing it—or falling off the bed. He flops, shifts, and mutters curses under his breath, but finally—finally—he makes it to your side, lying beside you with a triumphant smirk.

“See?” he pants, a little out of breath. “I did it.”

“Wow,” you say, clapping lightly. “Captain America, conqueror of pillows.”

“Damn right.” He beams at you, his face flushed from the exertion. “Now…” He reaches for you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close, despite the awkward angle. His hand, large and warm, comes to rest gently on your rounded stomach. His thumb makes slow circles over the fabric of your nightshirt, brushing against the small rise. The smile that spreads across his face is soft, almost reverent. 

“Hey there, little one.”

The teasing, playful glint in his eyes fades to something softer, more intense as he gazes down at your belly. His palm splays wide, covering the bump entirely, and he rubs with a featherlight touch. You feel the familiar flutter of movement beneath his hand, and Steve’s entire face lights up.

“Did you feel that?” He whispers, eyes wide with wonder, his breath catching.

You nod, your hand covering his, sharing the moment with him. “That’s your baby, Steve.”

He swallows hard, blinking away the sudden moisture in his eyes as he continues to trace gentle patterns on your skin. “I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “I can’t believe… this is happening.”

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion he’s never been able to hide from you. “You’re going to be a wonderful dad.”

He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Only because you’re going to be an amazing mom,” he murmurs against your skin. His hand lingers on your stomach, his fingers spreading as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of it.

The baby shifts again, and Steve lets out a soft laugh, a sound filled with awe. “I’m pretty sure this little one already loves you more than anyone else.”

“And what about you?” you tease, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

He shrugs, eyes still fixed on your stomach. “I’ll just have to win them over.” He glances up, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “Starting with getting rid of this pillow.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Nice try, Captain. It stays.”

He sighs dramatically but leans down to kiss your belly one more time. “Okay, okay, you win,” he mutters, though the smile on his face is nothing short of blissful. “For now.”

You lean back, resting your hand atop his, and the two of you stay like that for a while—Steve murmuring quiet promises to the baby, his fingers drawing lazy circles over your belly. Even with the pillow still stubbornly wedged between you, it’s one of the most intimate moments you’ve ever shared.

Steve might be fighting a losing battle against the Great Pillow, but right now, with his hand on your stomach and your laughter filling the room, he’s never felt closer to you.

TYLER HOECHLIN as Glen McReynolds in EVERYBODY WANTS SOME!! (2016)