Flufftober Day 15

Joseph Quinn at the opening for Tokyo Comic Con

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.”

🤨

Hi Emmy! Did you remember the trend that went viral on tik tok two years ago (I think) where when a person want to kiss their best friend put the song “eletric love”? Okay so imagine this with bestfriend!Steve 🥹

You felt absolutely sick as you set up your phone, the camera already recording, the shiny back of it partially hidden by a cheese plant you’d barely managed to keep alive.

The last thing that had flashed across the screen before you’d pressed the red button was a text from Robin, the notification making your stomach tumble as you read the words: ‘you better not chicken out. I ✨PROMISE✨ you, it’ll work.’

Her use of emojis didn’t make you feel better, but you gave one last look to the camera before settling back onto your sofa, legs folded underneath you, fingers picking at your nails in your lap. Steve came in only a few seconds later, popcorn bowl placed on the table before he flopped down next to you, too close like always. His knee knocked yours before his thigh was squished against your own, shoulder to shoulder, the aftershave you’d bought him two Christmas’ ago lingering on his sweater, along the line of his neck.

Your heart was screaming at you, a thudthudthud that rattled your bones and you wondered if Steve could hear it, if he could feel it vibrate through your body and into his. There wasn’t any music playing, just the trailer of the movie he’d set up to play on Netflix, the same two minutes repeating over and over until he’d returned with the snacks.

But Robin and Nancy had shown you the tiktok almost a week ago, a blur of couples kissing, friends leaning into more, lips meeting, eyes widening, all shot to the soundtrack of BØRNS hit single, Electric Love. The song played in your head like your own private concert, the bass a beat that matched your heart.

‘And every night my mind is running around her. Thunder's getting louder and louder and louder.’

You were going to throw up, you were sure of it. You looked at Steve, his strong profile you knew so well, the line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the smattering of freckles that had reappeared over his cheeks now that summer was back. He’d not long had a haircut, the curls at the nape of his neck no longer, the top still a misbehaving mess but you could see more of his throat, the strong column of it, the moles that were scattered below his ear.

“You’re staring,” he said.

You startled, eyes wide and you swallowed hard before you answered. You wanted to glance at the camera, you wanted to up and run. But instead you shook your head and tried to smile, a little bashful but warm all the same, ‘cause Steve wasn’t really teasing you. He did look curious though, like he could sense the tension, the kind that was always there but this time, tenfold.

“You’re acting weird. More so than usual. Are you ok—”

‘Baby, you’re like lightning in a bottle…’

You heard the swell of the song in your head as you pushed your lips to Steve’s, eyes closing on instinct, his bottom lip caught between yours and he tasted like candy and popcorn, cherry sour and caramel butter. You were a little clumsy with it, hands pushed to the soft of the sofa cushions as you leaned over to him, head tilted to the side and up so you could meet your mouth to his. It lasted a second or two, three at most, before you were pulling away, already feeling the overwhelming sting of tears in the corners of your eyes, because oh my god, you’d just kissed your best friend, and surely you’d fucked everything up—

But then Steve was chasing you, only after a moment's pause, his eyes wide and lips still parted. You watched him lick over his bottom one, like he was finding the taste of you before he was leaning back in, a hand catching the nape of your neck to keep you there this time.

It was sweeter than the first, noses pressed to each other's cheeks, lips moving together liked you’d done it all the time, for all the six years you’d known each other. Steve’s thumb pushed at your jaw, titled your head the way he wanted you so he could kiss you a little deeper, cheeks pink and hearts crashing against each other's chests.

The tiktok went viral, after you’d admitted to it and shown Steve. He’d only grinned and shrugged, muttering something about how you both looked good and the internet should see it. The comments mainly consisted of keyboard smashes and forlorn girls asking “when is it my turn.” And there were several who demanded an update, asking questions about what had happened next and “please tell you guys are dating now?”

So Steve made his own account, asked you for help to stitch your video with his, a montage of sorts that showed you and him from when you were teens, hair too long and messy, tongues popsicle stained and skateboards under your feet, to now, just last week, you on Steve’s back, snapped by Eddie at the lake.

He was shirtless, his top on your frame, stolen to hide your bikini but his hands were wrapped possessively around your thighs as he held you to him, your arms clinging to his neck in a similar way. The sun was in your faces, causing you both to squint, your lips were pressed together, smiles biting through and well, that video went viral too.

…

eddie’s love language being physical touch but gets all overwhelmed and shy when he feels your hands roam his chest, hips, shoulders, anywhere you can get to. he would take in an involuntarily sharp breath because it’s something he has very little experience with.

you’d notice the way his body tensed at your hot touch, gently taking your hands away. “everything okay, eds?”

eddie’s face would flush in embarrassment, not used to being vulnerable and exposed like this with somebody he cared deeply for. which, was also something he wasn’t used to.

“y-yeah, sweetheart. ‘m fine.” he’d mumble, unsure how to explain himself in the right way. a way that wouldn’t make you look at him like everybody else did: like he was a freak.

you’d cock an eyebrow at your suddenly shy, soft-spoken boyfriend. it was so unlike eddie to not say what was on his mind. “i don’t buy it, eddie. it’s like you’re not even here.” and you don’t mean for it to come out as flat as it did, but it was too late when he winced.

“i know, ‘m sorry baby,” his hand would find home at the base of your neck as he rubbed small circles with his thumb, urging you to meet his eyes. “i guess im just not used to… all of this.” eddie gestured the two of you with his other hand and hoped it made enough sense so he wouldn’t embarrass himself further.

you softened instantly, laced your fingers with his and kissed the back of his hand. he’d look at your hands all jumbled together, soft dewy gloss shimmering on his skin, and wondered if the knots in his stomach would ever go away. but then his eyes fluttered back to yours and it was like the entire world dissolved behind you, your eyes gentle and loving.

“eddie, we can go as slow as you want to. just tell me if it’s ever too much, okay?” you whispered, not ever in a million years thinking it would be you to comfort him; a metalhead who wore handcuffs on his belt and considered drug dealing a job. “i love you, even if you hate being touched by me…too soon?” you joked, trying to lighten the tension that had suddenly settled in the room.

you sat in silence for a beat, about to backpedal thinking you went too far. but eddie’s furrowed look evaporated as he laughed loudly at your joke, an incredulous look on his face when he finally calmed down. “yeah, too fuckin’ soon! christ.” but he had to stifle his laughter by biting down on his bottom lip.

you smiled at him; so gorgeous, eddie thought - and you leaned in to give him a soft but sugary sweet kiss. “i love you too, pretty girl,” he mumbled when you pulled away, hot breath fanning your mouth. without another word, eddie pulled you on top of him, wrapped his arms around your back, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

turned out, it was possible for eddie’s anxieties to completely vanish without a trace. only weeks later was he climbing all over you as you watched a movie with your friends, his hands roaming your figure and tugging you endlessly closer to him. if the two of you did anything together that didn’t involve your hands, eddie would insistently hold yours. eddie! i’m trying to eat! you’d scolded him once when he stole your hand away from the table. he’d only shrug with a well, your other hand is free, sweetheart.

and though he was often sometimes insufferable, you could never deny the intimacy that eddie had now craved. you realized you’d do anything for him, anything at all to make him happy.

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.

all i want is a stranger things reboot where everything is exactly the same except david harbour plays eleven and hopper, joe keery wears his djo wig at all times, joe quinn switches his american & british accents between scenes and nobody acknowledges it and every time someone says something dumb gaten looks straight at the camera in complete silence like he's on the office. is this too much to ask for?

Just a little thought for your sweet Sunday prompt, don’t worry if it’s not the sort of thing you want. Kind, soft old fashioned gentleman Steve looking after the reader when she’s having a particularly bad time of the month. I love that man so much and I adore how you write him.😍

Fair warning: this gets sweet but sooooooooo deep after the feels. I went overboard on the semi-angst because periods and (my) life sucks. Steve's just so magical, that bastard....

Hour seven of cramping and you contemplate just giving up and heading to bed. You look over to the clock.

20:23

No way. Too early. You can wait one hour more until another dose of painkiller.

Except now you're out of snacks and either have to watch only half a movie or search for a TV show.

There's a knock at the door, and why someone checking on you makes you want to cry is beyond you. You just do want to cry. You don't want to explain WWIII in your uterus; you want ice cream, dammit.

"I bought three kinds," Steve announces, using his foot to close up behind him, arms covered in grocery bags like a pack mule. "Four if you count the sandwiches."

When he finally looks up, he stalls seeing you curled into the couch, covered in thick blankets, a pillow squished harshly to your chest, and tears brimming in your eyes.

His eyes soften. "Hun," he whines, dropping his arms, "you could have texted me."

You shake your head before tucking it into the pillow. "Not gonna bother you," you mumble through fabric.

"That bad, huh?"

Steve doesn't need an answer though. He's speedy in the kitchen while you scroll absently through Netflix. You still have no clue what to watch.

He returns to your side with a bowl: one scoop of every flavor capped with an entire ice cream sandwich...minus one bite.

"Sorry," he winks, "boyfriend tax."

Steve's cute when he's cheeky, and he knows it.

"That's a big bite, mister."

He shrugs, simply adding, "inflation."

Another sharp pang hits you above the hip, one so brutal and deep you hiss. He asks about medicine, if you'd like hot tea or chocolate, and what else he can do. There's nothing. Just another pang before the other even recedes.

Concern falls off his face suddenly, and Steve holds up a finger before hurtling over the back of the couch.

He comes back but sits on the floor with his hand out. "Foot, please," he adds, brandishing a pair of your fuzziest socks.

"One sec," you groan and clutch the bowl tighter. You can't lift your leg until the cramp stops. You watch Steve school his face with patience instead of sadness.

Some months are worse than others, and Steve doesn't like unpredictable things. Even though he's patient. Even though he rolls with the punches. He will never get used to seeing his best girl in pain, and so most of the time, you hide it from him. You've trained yourself to play it off like it's nothing more than a temporary stomach ache, but this one is bad. You cannot play off this month.

You drank as much water as you could handle. You peed every twenty minutes and cleaned up every time as if it would matter. You want to shower every hour, but that would be just as useless. You'll feel gross and bloated no matter what.

You should feel so pampered and loved when Steve gently slips the soft sock over your heel. You should be happy beneath his gorgeous, blue, adoring gaze. You should not start crying into your confection. It's not salted caramel, for christ's sake. Get it together.

Which, of course, you can't do.

You can't stop any of it, and then you're happy you can't stop it because then he might stop. Somehow Steve only becomes more doting as you shovel ice cream in like air. He sneaks another bite of sandwich to make you smile. Somehow smiling makes the tears come faster. He peels away some blankets and the pillow, politely waiting until the spoon clinks against empty china. Somehow he wrestles you into his lap and hugs.

The firm grip he puts you in is soothing like a weighted blanket, tighter than you can wrap against your own gut, and it feels so good. He curls around you as you were curled in the cushions, a universal pressure, a universal peace.

"You want to watch a comedy or a nature documentary?" His voice rumbles against your back.

"Neither."

His chin pokes your cheek with a questioning hum.

"Tell me about your day," you reply, sighing, letting your whole self lean into Steve even though you feel swollen and grumpy.

He squeezes a little firmer around you, waiting to feel more tension drain from you. "Well, Sam complained that I was heavy again."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he had to lift me ten stories higher between buildings."

You scoff. "My god, how hard can it be?"

"I know, I know," he mutters, "I'm light as a feather. Practically lean."

"Yeah," you finally smile. "Go on. Have another ice cream sandwich, you skinny boy."

His chuckle rattles behind you. "Only if we can share...then I'm thinking a hot bath and more of this--" he cuddles up closer "--if you're game."

"Just a minute longer," you beg in a whisper before adding with more strength, "you still haven't told me about Sam and Bucky's latest tiff."

He’s very cool and mysterious, he’s not a sad boy at all, he swears.