#Saying this from my comfy hospital bed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astrophileous · 7 months

Note

Derek getting jealous over Bug’s pregnancy pillow 🤭🤭🤭 he just doesn’t understand how it can be that much more comfortable than he would be. If Bug makes him snuggle with it post-pregnancy when she needs to sneak out from his arms during the night to check on the baby too? He wakes up like “????”

Nooo but can you imagine how EXASPERATED he is when Bug pulls out the pillow again when she's pregnant with their daughter/Baby Bug???? 😭😭😭

Btw so sorry for the delay, I was stressing FOR DAYS bcs my brain refused to cooperate and write (I think it's back to normal now so YAY)

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Not this montrosity again."

Derek nearly whined at the sight of your pregnancy pillow; the one you had stored safely after the birth of your son, and the same one you had pulled out of its resting place now that you were in your second trimester with your daughter. It was a gift from a friend, and Derek was never a fan of it since the first time the pillow found its way into your shared bed.

"Don't say that." You put your palms on either side of the pillow, acting as if you were cupping its ears. "He might hear you."

"Great. So it's a he?!"

"Derek Morgan, you're not seriously jealous over a freaking pillow?"

"I have the right to be when you constantly choose to cuddle with it." You suppressed a giggle when you saw the daggers Derek was shooting its way. "I don't understand why you need the pillow when you have me."

"Because, as much as I love and adore your hard panes and muscles, I need something fluffy to get me sleeping comfortably through the night."

Derek scoffed loudly.

Who would've thought Derek would ever live to see the day he found himself mourning over the fact that he was fucking ripped?

Every night before the two of you went to bed, Derek never failed in throwing the dirtiest, nastiest look in the direction of said pregnancy pillow as if the inanimate object was singlehandedly responsible for ruining his entire life. Derek couldn't be more happy to get rid of it the moment you came home from the hospital with your daughter in your arms. Unfortunately, the man soon realized that getting rid of the offensive item might be a more challenging task than he had ever anticipated in the first place.

"Bug?" Derek mumbled blearily one night as he rose from the light sleep he had accidentally fallen under.

The last thing he remembered was lying in bed with you in his arms. Something about the lull of your voice and the familiar scent of your body wash had managed to make him drift into an unexpected slumber. Derek was putty whenever you were next to him, and he was perpetually alright with that knowledge if it meant he got to keep you constantly by his side.

The bedroom was enveloped in darkness as he stirred, squeezing your flesh wherever his arm could reach. But Derek realized a little too late in his half-awake state that the softness in his hand was, in fact, not you. And it took a few more seconds for him to turn on the bedside lamp to confirm that it wasn't you who was lying in his arms.

It was the fucking pillow.

Derek grabbed the object with utter disgust, stomping through the house until he found you in the nursery. You were sitting in the rocking chair, nursing your infant daughter in your arms, when you looked up at the sound of the door opening. Your head immediately threw back in laughter once you saw the look of contempt that Derek was aiming towards the pillow in his hand.

"What's wrong, Derek?"

"I woke up to this in my arms."

"Did you have a good sleep cuddling with the pillow?" You snickered, enjoying the way Derek's frown deepened with frustration. "I told you it's comfy."

Derek scowled at your cheeky wink, refusing to relent even if deep down he had also begrudgingly started to agree with that sentiment.

After that night, you never heard him threaten to throw out the pregnancy pillow, ever again.

611 notes · View notes

the-fiction-witch · 4 months

Text

Favourite Patient

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet

Requested I don't exactly know how to leave a request but I'm assuming I'm just supposed to comment. I was wondering if you could do one about Y/n being a patient at the hospital. I don't know what would happen but I just think it would be cool. ❤️

I sat on the bed, pouting.

I wanted to go home, I thought all of this was stupid.

Merely an overreaction.

"This is dumb."

"Y/n!" My mother snapped at me across the room,

"It is!"

"Will you please just let the doctor look over you,"

"Can I go home when he tells you there's nothing wrong with me?"

"If he says so then yes."

"Fine." I rolled my eyes,

Soon enough the door opened to one of the doctors, the younger one, I hadn't met him yet, and frankly I didn't want to.

"Good Afternoon, you must be Miss Y/l/n," He smiled at me,

"Umm."

"Alright, well going on then?" He asked sitting on the bed,

I glared a little and moved my leg to put some space between us "Nothing,"

"Nothing?"

"Y/n!" My mother snapped, "Tell the doctor."

"There's nothing wrong with me, I'm not wasting his time."

"That's very sweet of you," He smiled, "But tell me anyway, I'd rather you waste five minutes of my time to tell me you have a tummy ache than not tell me it's something serious."

"It's nothing." I sighed,

"Oh for-" My mother began before she simply told him what was wrong with me,

"Ah... that is serious." He said sounding concerned,

"Oh for no! it's not that serious really." I complained

"If you wouldn't mind waiting outside Mrs Y/l/n,"

"Yes doctor" She nodded as she took her bag and left, leaving me alone with this doctor.

For a moment neither of us spoke merely engaging in a staring contest, which I had to look away from first. Which only made him smirk.

"Is that true?"

"No, I-"

"Is it. true?"

"Yes." I sighed,

"Alright, I'll need to keep you in for a week under observation we haven't had any change in that time then I'll give you a full exam-"

"No, you bloody well will not."

"Yes. I will. and if I find what I'm gonna be honest I'm already suspecting then you'll need surgery."

"Ohh for- It's not that bad really."

"If you do. and you don't have surgery you'll die."

"and if I don't? If I don't and you being overly cautious put me through a surgery I do not need."

"Miss Y/l/n. Surgery is expensive, time-consuming, dangerous, I'm not going to put you through a surgery you don't need." He said, "But as a doctor, I can't let you walk out of here with the knowledge there could be a literal bomb inside you waiting to go off." He snapped, "Now. Miss Y/l/n, Let me investigate. Please."

"Fine." I snapped,

"Good girl," he smiled, he took some tools and did a very basic check of things "Yes as I suspected. But we still need to keep you in to be sure." He said

"And if I don't want to stay?"

He glared a little as he moved away, "Then legally speaking I can handcuff you to the bed, so are you staying willingly or am I getting the keys?"

"Fine."

"Good girl," he smiled, "I get this feeling you're very quickly going to become my favourite patient" He winked, "Name for the paperwork?"

"Y/n."

"A very beautiful name, Dr Dawkins. I'll be checking in on you daily and I'll make sure the nurse gives you lots of fluids and a comfy pillow" He smiled, "I'll see you later y/n."

He took his things and left the room to explain things to my mother, I just huffed and pouted angrily.

I had been here for three days and already I was bored out of my mind, every day Dr. Dawkins would pop in and check up on me sometimes even more than that but still I was just pouting and complaining wanting to go home,

"Aww, There's my favourite patient." He smiled as he arrived at my room, "Hi Y/n."

"Hello Dr Dawkins,"

"I brought you a present?"

"What?" I rolled my eyes,

"Ah ah. No. you don't get your present until you smile."

I sighed and forced a smile, "Good girl," He smiled coming fully inside my room, "Extra jelly," he enticed setting an extra jelly cup on my table,

"I thought it was one a day that's the rules?"

"It is, but... Between you and me." He winked, "I snagged it for you when I went past the kitchens" He smiled,

"Thank you,"

"You're welcome, anything to cheery that grumpy butt up" He laughed, "Now. any change?"

"Nope."

"Anything at all?"

"Nope."

"Alright, I might have to check you again."

"Again!"

"I need to check. if nothing improves I am going to have to book you in for surgery and you know both of us don't want that,"

"Fine." I sighed letting him check again, for what felt like the tenth time in three days.

"Alright, rest up I'll come back and see you before bed."

"Alright." I sighed,

"Good girl," he smiled before he left again.

I had been here now for six days and I was only getting angrier and angrier, I didn't want to be here, but he knew I had been trying to just walk out so make sure to look my door, I didn't want surgery and I knew he'd make me get it so I was attempting to climb out the window of my room, but just as I got halfway out, He opened the door.

"Are you breaking out?"

"...no,"

"so what are you doing then?"

"...Yes. I was."

"Go on then." He smirked leaning on my bed,

"I may have misjudged this."

"You think? attempting to escape out a third-story window?"

"I was going to walk across the ledge and go down the drainpipe."

"And in your condition that would certainly be a marvel,"

"Ohh shut up Doctor."

"You want help getting back in?"

"No. I'm fine."

"climbing out the window is not getting you out of surgery y/n. I know where you live we will just pick you up and bring you back."

"Who said I was going home?"

He rolled his eyes and came over picking me up and putting me back in bed, "stay." He demanded before going and locking my window, "You really are my favourite patient. even if you annoy the hell out of me." He smiled, "Now, get some rest I've booked your surgery in for tomorrow morning."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

"Do I really have to?"

"Yes." He laughed, "I'll be gentle I promise" he smiled before he headed out again.

I hated doing this but I had little of a choice, I was taken to the theatre and laid on a table with Dr. Dawkins over me.

"You alright?" He asked,

"Not really..."

"I know it's scary, But I promise I won't hurt my favourite patient." he smiled "Just go to sleep and I promise when you wake up this will all be over." He reassured kissing my forehead before gently resting the mask on my face, I slowly breathed it in and the world darkened until I slipped into sleep.

I woke in the little hospital bed, tucked up tightly in the covers, with Dr Dawkins sitting in the chair beside my bed watching over me. "Awww, Hello. How's my favourite patient?"

"everything hurts."

"It will for a while," he smiled, "but it's all over. all done. you're all better."

"Really?"

"yeah all done, you can stay here a couple more days to rest up and check for infection."

"Okay," I nodded,

"Okay? no arguing?"

"No."

"Good girl," He smiled holding my hand

"You waited for me to wake up?"

"Of course I did, I have to take care of my favourite patient." He smiled, "I'll be right here until you're all better" he smiled.

"You mean it?"

"I promise," he smiled kissing my cheek "Get some rest y/n."

"Thank you, Dr. Dawkins."

"you can just call me Jack, y/n."

I blushed a little, "Thank you, Jack,"

"You're welcome, Sweetheart." He smiled,

#thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #tbs smut #thomas sangster #tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #jackdawkins #jack dawkins #jack #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger #the artful dodger #artful dodger

151 notes · View notes

arachine · 1 year

Text

. . . tender wounds & soft kisses (won't you stay?) ; i. midoriya

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis :: trouble comes knocking on your doorstep seeking salvation. the question is, do you answer it?

── ˚₊✩‧₊ general tags :: pro!hero au, angst, fluff

── ˚₊✩‧₊ content warnings :: fem!reader, mentions of blood + death but nothing explicit, reader patches his wounds, intense feelings, making out, 3k words

── ˚₊✩‧₊ notes :: part one of two (?) of a future mini series :3 next part will include filth pinky promise !

it doesn’t matter how many times he shows up at your door like this—battered and bruised, that is. you’ll never get used to it. you want to turn him away, to tell him he’d have better luck going to a hospital—but—it’s half past midnight, and it’s cold, and it’s raining, and…he doesn’t know where else to go.

he knows you’re tired. can see it in the way you lean your head against the door frame, and the way you blink up at him with indifference, as if your eyes are telling him “come in now or i’ll leave you out in the cold”.

with an appreciative smile, he enters through the door and brushes past you. takes his heavy, muddy boots off, one by one, and leaves them to sit in the foyer where they contrast starkly against your pristine-perfect ones.

it’s a sight that’s starting to become all too familiar to you. sometimes it looks like there’s another person living here, like there’s someone to share the space with, but you know his presence is only ephemeral. you’d wish it weren’t, though. especially since he already knew the floor plan of your apartment like the back of his hand.

even in the pitch-black dark, his steps are confident. calculated. familiar. he dredges down the corridor with impressive precision, and yields absolutely no qualms of bumping into your many awkwardly placed pieces of furniture. doesn’t even trip over the new coffee table you recently purchased. because instead of him doing the bumping and tripping, you do.

izuku comes to a sudden standstill in the middle of the living room, and you walk right into his back, knocking him forward a bit from the force.

“what’s wrong?” you question, trying not to let yourself sound too concerned, but it comes out more tender than anything. he breathes out a quick nothing, and continues the trek to your bathroom, wincing through gritted teeth while clutching his side.

if he’s in pain, he won’t say it. which is another reason why you’ve come to resent his spontaneous fix-me-up visits. impatiently, you side step by him and rush to the bathroom. turn on the light and stand at the door frame with your arms crossed over your chest, like you were practically urging him to quicken his pace so he could be out of here faster.

but he takes his time. because despite the sharp-ache in his ribs, and the sting above his brow, he gets to see you. izuku midoriya gets to be touched by you. to be cleaned by you. patched up by you. sinewy muscles and bruised flesh, all taken care of by—you.

so, yeah. he takes his sweet time getting to the bathroom—even if he’s five steps from getting there. he’ll make it ten. anything to make this last longer.

“come on, i’m tired,” you say, turning on your heels to open the cabinet. “i’d like to get back into my comfy bed as soon as possible.”

when you take a look inside the cabinet, you frown at the shortage of supplies you’re met with. which, honestly, shouldn’t even really surprise you—considering he was the one responsible for its barren state.

regardless, you pluck what you can of what’s left, then set them down on the counter in the order of which you’ll use them: clean rag, soap, ointment, steri-strips, and gauze (in case there’s a bigger wound somewhere under his tattered clothes).

from your peripheral, you can see his silhouette appear from out of the darkness, and you watch intently through the mirror as his now fully-illuminated body trudges behind you. god, he looks worse than he did standing under the light of your front porch.

well, that’s what you think. prior, a good portion of his face had been enshrouded by night, so you couldn’t really make out anything worth noting—even if you wanted to, at least.

but now you bear witness to the hues of red that dance across his face; both from the inflamed capillaries underneath his skin, and the blood ribboning down the gash above his brow.

“you know the drill.” your gaze is pointed, and you eye him through the mirror while dousing the rag under the warm running water.

he comes to a halt in front of the toilet, grimacing once, then clutches his side protectively before bending down to sit. you note that too.

“so…” a beat. “you gonna need help taking that off? or—“

“i’ve got it,” the green haired boy quips, moving to retract his arm from his side.

you throw your hands up in defeat, and reposition yourself to lean against the sink’s ledge. your eyes trace every movement, and you watch amusedly as he pathetically struggles to remove his gloves, but eventually achieves.

next, he attempts to tackle his zipper. a grimace. then, he attempts it again, only to withdraw in pain.

“let me do it,” impatience on the tip of your tongue. you lunge forward to unzip the damn thing yourself because you can’t bear to watch any longer, small hand swatting his much larger one away.

dropping to your knees, you sit between his legs and zip it down until the entirety of his torso is revealed. a solemn frown settles on your lips, and it takes everything in you to not shed a tear.

gathering your wits, you continue undressing him, gently pulling each arm from its consecutive sleeve, before moving to unclasp the mask tugged down his neck.

“i hate when you do that,” your voice speaks up, replacing the unpleasant silence. there’s evident irritation laced in it, and he can’t help but to wince from the way it pulls his heart strings.

“when i do what?” you take a brief moment before answering him. busy yourself with the loose thread hanging on the side of his leg pant, tug on it until you snap it off. “when you pretend you’re not in pain.”

izuku sighs through his nose, something long and heavy. “i’m sorry,” he attempts at an apology, though he knows he’d have better luck convincing someone else who wasn’t accustomed to seeing him like this.

“no you’re not, otherwise you’d stop waking me up in the middle of the night to tend to your wounds.” there it is. that venomous tongue of yours, the one that doesn’t hold back in telling him what he needs to hear. he can’t even counter it—so he takes it. leans back into the cool porcelain of the tank, and watches as you walk away to the sink, only to return with a stool and rag in tow.

for a minute, you mull over which area of skin to tackle first, until you decide on prioritizing his torso. you take the damp rag and run it along the perimeter of his wound where there’s a culmination of dried blood and fresh red. his abs flex in response to the sensation, a sharp intake of breath.

“sorry,” you mutter without looking at him, eyes focused and hands working diligently between swipes.

“nope, ‘m fine.”

“liar.”

“yeah,” he breathes.

“how’d you get this one, huh? oh, wait, let me guess. off doing god knows what, at god knows where, chasing after some guy you’re not even authorized to be chasing.”

you rise up from your seat to dispose of the rag, grabbing the remaining items on the counter. “did i get any of that right?”

izuku laughs, a small admittance. “i don’t think i’m at liberty to say.”

scoffing, you plop back down in front of him, and carefully, begin cleaning the inside of the wound with a damp piece of gauze. every now and then, you check his face to gauge for any pain, but his relaxed expression is unfaltering. because he’s looking down at you with so much warmth it’s scalding.

his gaze feels like a thousand little pricks, makes you shiver from the intensity, and you silently pray he doesn’t catch it. though, it’s really wishful thinking on your part. he noticed most things, was just in his nature.

“what are you looking at?” all bite. his eyes shift from your face to the tiled floor. suddenly, the grout was starting too look interesting, in fact, when’s the last time you touched it u—

“n-nothing,” he stutters, warmth spreading across his face to the tips of his ears.

“so weird…” your eyes flit up once, before refocusing on covering the wound in clean, dry gauze.

in juxtaposition to your jagged edged words, you’re so gentle. delicate in everything you do, but especially so, when you’re handling him. it’s something that he’s come to find massively endearing, and he hates that the only time he’s a recipient of your attentiveness, is when he shows up at your door all bloodied and bruised.

“shit, uh, can you hold this in place for a second? gonna get some tape.”

izuku nods in compliance. follows with trained eyes as your frame disappears into the dark. then, the sound of a flicker follows suit shortly after, and the light—from what he presumes to be your room—illuminates the rest of the hallway.

in the distance, he can hear the soft thud of feet padding back and forth between rooms, and can just about isolate the cacophonous sound of drawers opening and closing, along with muttered obscenities.

the impending sound of footsteps announces your return, and you take your seat between his legs, this time with a roll of tape in tow.

“and,” you drawl, “done. now let me look at that nasty gash on your face.”

he scoots closer to the edge to give you a better look, and the pair of your knees knock together. neither of you acknowledge it, nor do you make an effort to move. the proximity has him reeling, but you seemingly remain indifferent.

reaching up, you take hold of his chin and maneuver him intermittently as you prod and poke at the open flesh. suddenly, a feeling of sadness washes over you upon the realization that one day he might not even make it to your doorstep. that maybe this will be the last time you hold his beautiful face in your hands. that this will be the last time those kind, green eyes look up at you. the reality of the situation is that every day may very well be his last.

when you stop your ministrations, he knows something’s up. “what is it? what’s wrong?” the intonation in his voice rising, displaying the sincerity of his concern. a calloused hand finds solace on the side of your cheek, and you careen into its warmth.

“i don’t…i don’t know how many times i can keep seeing you like this,” you admit, voice straining at the effort it takes to quell your tears.

izuku brings a second hand up to your face, cradles it in his calloused palms. swipes his thumbs soothingly over the apples of your cheeks and shushes you before a sob can erupt from your throat.

“nonono, don’t get yourself all upset over me.”

“how can i not ‘zu?!”

“‘cause ‘m not worth it,” he spits, and it almost scares you how much he believes in the veracity of his statement.

“‘not worth it’…” you repeat, “if you weren’t worth it, i wouldn’t let you keep coming back into my house. i wouldn’t patch you up…wouldn’t let you keep making me feel like this.”

“i’m sor—“

“don’t you fucking dare say sorry,” you get up abruptly, releasing yourself from his grasp. “god, you make me—you make me fucking crazy! can’t you see?” your hands go to reach the ledge of the sink, and you rock back and forth on anxious heels.

forgetting the ache in his side, the pro-hero rises to his feet. he lets his weakened legs drag him to where you stand. your head is down, and your arms are out-stretched to support your weight. he can’t see your face, but he hears the beginnings of a sob.

thoughts race through his mind a mile a minute. what should i do? he thinks. how can he console you? should he touch you? hold you? but what if you don’t want to be touched? he racks his brain for an answer, to no avail.

for a while, he just stands there—because in the short distance he traveled, he didn’t really think of a plan. just acted on impulse. but then he sees a big cartoonish teardrop land on the counter and he loses it.

unthinking, the greenette takes you into his hold. slots himself behind you like a puzzle piece and wraps you up, one arm across your chest, and the other over your middle. the sudden contact surprises you, but you make no contests. instead, you find yourself relaxing into his grip, and he takes that as a silent confirmation to squeeze you further into his embrace.

“don’t cry,” izuku whispers into the interstice of your neck, “can’t bear it. don’t like it.” you raise your head to lay against his chest, and wrap your fingers around his forearm. his body radiates a warmth that you find wildly comforting. it’s intoxicating, almost. and now that you’ve had a taste of it, you’re not quite sure you’d be able to let go.

but while the feeling is nice, it’s also equal parts scary and debilitating. because you weren’t a couple. you weren’t temporary lovers. you weren’t…anything, and yet—you fit like one. and that was scary. terrifying.

it scared you how much space this person took up in your life; how little he gave in return, and how much of your heart belonged to him. and the worst part of it all? how scared he was to trust you with a scintilla of his. of all the years you’ve known izuku midoriya, this is the coldest you’ve known him to be.

“alright, i’m better now. you can let go,” you speak, though the words that escape your lips directly conflict with what you really feel.

don’t let go. don’t let go. hold me a little longer, please.

reluctantly, the bigger man releases you from his firm grasp. he holds your gaze through the mirror, waits for you to start the conversation—which your eyes seem to have already started, because he swears that right now, they’re singing a song of sorrow.

“be honest with me, please. don’t you think i deserve that much?”

suddenly, the pain in his ribs throbs. his forehead falls to rest on your shoulder. he’s stalling. biding his time so that he can come up with an answer.

“of course you do, you deserve the truth and so much more. but…”

“but,” you repeat plainly, because of course there’s a but.

“—but there’s things that i just can’t tell you. and i know it sucks, and i know it sounds like a bunch of bullshit, but if something were to ever happen to you because of the information you knew, i literally wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” the words flow from his lips hurriedly, like if he doesn’t get it all out now, they’ll detonate inside of him.

“you gotta just give me this, please, baby.”

baby.

babybabybaby. he called you…baby. your eyes widen like saucers at the pet name, and then it dawns on him that he let it slip through a fit of passion.

“baby? uh, pft, i meant…” he tries to recant the part in his spiel that he let slip out, nervously scratching the back of his freckled neck.

“i hate you.” a lie. but it sounds right to say, even though there’s no real weight behind it. still, how dare he? how dare he make you go years thinking your feelings were unrequited? how dare he fucking steal your heart again with one little word, two syllables, and four letters?

izuku smirks. if you had uttered these words to him when he was still young and unsure of himself, he’d believe you. but he doesn’t—because he knows you. knows that your venomous tongue lacks potency. and he knows that your heart is reserved for him, always has been—even if his negligence almost cost him you.

“you don’t,” he says matter-of-factly, viridian irises soft, staring back at you.

“i do.” unceremoniously, two large hands grab your waist. they turn you around with uncharacteristic speed, pin you against the sink and leave you with no exit. a gasp bubbles in your throat.

“okay, then say it to my face, “ izuku leans forward, strong arms encasing you between his chest and the sink he holds. his neck tilts downward so that he’s looking into your eyes, and god, he’s so big. so imposing, takes up too much space. too much.

“tell me you hate me, and i’ll stop doing…this. i’ll get out of your hair for good.”

any and all semblance of composure you had up until that point, dissipates into thin air right then and there. your eyes squint into slits because he fucking proved you right. you were too much of a coward to say it, but on the off-chance that you did, he’d see right through you. one thing you hate more than being proven wrong, is feeling like you have no control over things.

things like izuku. he made your head all foggy with just a glance, and your stomach knotted up with an utter of your name. but this? god, you couldn’t handle this. the proximity, the intimacy of your rather compromising position, the intensity of his gaze, or the way his breath kissed the curve of your jaw. he was everywhere, all the time. omnipotent.

“you’re right,” you admit with a huff, acquiescing to his boyish-grin. your admission has him lurching forward, inching closer, and closer to the pair of roseate lips pouting up at him so prettily (that they might as well be an open invitation for him to kiss you).

“i’m right.”

you find yourself initiating a game of cat and mouse. every time he moves in, you move out. it’s so silly. makes you feel like a love-sick school girl waiting by the lockers to give her crush a handwritten note. but you’re relishing in it; and so is he, admittedly more so than you.

with every passing second, you become less and less aware of your surroundings. all you know is that your lips are moving in tandem, hovering over the other, open-mouthed and panting. you want him. you want to taste him, to bite him, to give him another wound that will turn into a pretty pearl-grey scar amongst the rest.

your desire for him is carnal, but you play this little game like time is infinite. and you suppose, time can be anything you want it to be when you’re encased between his body.

just as he’s about to close the gap, you whisper a plea into his ear. “promise me,” your voice is breathy, wanting, but still firm. his lips dip down to your neck, and he places a hot, open-mouthed kiss into the divot of your clavicle. trails upwards as he pops up to answer you.

“i’ll promise you a hundred things, i’ll - i’ll promise you whatever you want.”

“promise me you’ll start being careful,” you say breathless, “that i won’t see your name as a headline on the news.”

“i promise,” he delves back into your neck, repeating it like a mantra along the vein of your jugular until he kisses his way up to your lips. there’s a brief pause initiated by you when your hand pushes back his chest.

a look of confusion overtakes his features, and you’re looking at him with nervous eyes. are we really about to do this? they say. are we really about to cross that threshold? like you haven’t already done that and more within the span of ten minutes. but you need the reassurance, to be told that everything after this will be okay.

yes, his say. it’s fine. you can trust me.

you felt again the rush of helplessness, the push and pull of the current; until, finally, you let it sink you. he kisses you gently, delicately, then with a swift gradation of intensity that has you whimpering into his mouth.

“hate you,” a kiss, “for making me,” another, “wait so - mmf - long,” you try to speak between clashes of teeth and tongue, smoothing your arms up his exposed chest before encircling them around his neck.

“i know, baby, i’m terrible,” he breaks away to suckle your neck, “i’m the worst.”

“the worst,” you agree. suddenly, you start to understand why people say kissing is like melting, because every part of your body he touches, has you dissolving rapidly into sea-foam. you’re so hot and bothered, you don’t even know what to do with your hands.

they were around his neck at some point, but now they’re roaming freely. over his chest, his biceps, down his back, in his hair—on his face. maybe you’ve traveled too far, because the sound it elicits from him is teetering the border between pain and pleasure.

“sorry, did i do that?” you gesture to his brow, which he shields protectively.

“just a scratch, i can take it,” he reassures, attempting to resume his assault on your collar bone. you grab hold of his chin, redirecting him to look at you.

“just a scratch, huh? well, you’re lucky you got away with just a ‘scratch’.”

#:: — LEXI WRITES !#exposure tags >>>#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki smut #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya smut #deku x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader #mha x reader smut

629 notes · View notes

pomegranateshrimp · 6 months

Note

Can i request a fic were Wilson is a morning person but since reader came into his life he has been staying in bed longer or/and taking more time to have breakfast 😉

A/N: I’m so sick and tired of Tumblr making my photos so shitty 😭😭 anyways thx for the request hope this is good! Sorry if it’s short

Fluff Oneshot

⚕️Mornings with you

James Wilson x Gn!Reader

James has always been a morning person. He got dressed, ate a quick breakfast, brushed his teeth, blow-dried his hair, and then went off to work. You are not. But ever since you came into his life, he’s stayed in bed waiting for your eyes to flutter open so he can wake you up with kisses. It’s made you question your faith to the term ‘night owl’. He’s made sure you get up early enough to eat breakfast and get to work on time. To say he spoiled you was an understatement; he worshipped you. If he got up early enough, he loved to make you your favorite breakfast so he could surprise you with it in bed. He loved seeing the tired smile on your face when you woke up. Today was no different.

🔆

The sweet smell of pancakes and fresh fruit fills your lungs as you wake up. A small yawn escapes your mouth as you turn over, arms falling across your boyfriends chest. A sweet kiss is pressed to your temple in turn.

“Good morning my love.”

You groan, face buried in his chest, in response but make sure to kiss him back.

“I made us breakfast.”

“It smells good.” You mumble in a half-awake haze. James’s hands find themselves in your hair as he twirls on your beautiful locks. Despite how much you want to stay in bed with him all day, you realize you should probably get going. It was nice living with James; previously you had to set 15 dozen alarm clocks to make sure you get to the hospital on time, but now you had a live in one, one that awoke you with kisses and delicious gourmet food. You could get used to it.

One final groan pushes through your lips as you make your way off of him to go eat breakfast, your end target motivating you along with your boyfriend, who stood up with you and hugged you from behind as you walked through the house. Breakfasts for James usually meant scarfing down really whatever he could find before finishing his morning routine and leaving; but when you came into his life, his home, he wanted to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. He made sure that you weren’t stuck with shitty food or nothing at all. When you came to live with him, breakfasts now meant him waking up early to make you only the best and eating with you as you cuddled up together and watched a bit of TV, listened to music, or just talked.

You walk into the living room and take a seat on the comfy couches, one of the many things you loved about his house. You grabbed a plate and plopped down, James following, and took a bite as you leaned into him.

“Holy shit— this is so good?!” You exclaimed. Sure, you were used to the food he made being good, but today it felt like it was made with extra love. He blushed a pink hue and you find it adorable that you can make him flustered with just a small compliment.

“Only the best for you.” He hums as he smiles, taking a bite himself as you continue.

“You know, I think I’m starting to like mornings,”

“Oh yea? Why’s that?”

“because I get to spend them with the best boyfriend in the world, who makes me the best pancakes ever.”

#fanfic #house md #hate crimes md #james wilson #oneshot #gregory house #headcanon #dr wilson #golden hour #x reader #james wilson x reader #fluff

246 notes · View notes

chelseachilly · 9 months

Text

THIS LOVE - chapter three | heaven can’t help me now

pairing: ben chilwell x reader

rating: T

word count: 3.6k

summary: ben invites you to italy for a couple days when chelsea has a friendly against juventus. naturally, you drop everything to go with him. oh, and there may only be one bed in your hotel room...

A/N: hope you guys enjoy this one...things are getting serious ;) please let me know your thoughts, comments make my day!! chapter title from wildest dreams

previous chapter | view all chapters

How you end up flying to Italy on a Thursday when you should be working a double shift at the hospital and then falling asleep on your couch watching Netflix is honestly beyond you.

The week starts fairly normally. You catch up on some errands, work a shift or two, and hang out with Valerie to bring her up to speed on your slightly hectic life since you started accompanying Ben to every event.

It’s definitely started to be more than you bargained for, as Ben has more social engagements for brands in addition to his busy game schedule, but you take it as a sign that what you’re doing is working. He’s already landed a new, highly lucrative deal with a cologne company that were apparently looking for a footballer who fits the “committed, serious” type rather than the usual playboy - a market Ben now seems to have cornered thanks to your little charade.

While you’re out for lunch with Val on Wednesday, you get a call from Ben asking you to come with him to Italy for a couple days. You know Chelsea are playing Juventus in a friendly on Friday, but you weren’t planning on going. You have to work, for one thing, and you don’t usually go to his away games unless it’s an important one - certainly not a friendly.

Ben explains that a few of the other guys are bringing their significant others since it’s an excuse to go to a romantic city for a couple days, and that Shreya thinks it would be good exposure for you to take a trip together.

While he reiterates a bunch of times that you absolutely don’t have to come and it’s just an idea, you’re already mentally clearing your schedule and assuring him you’ll be there.

“Can you cover my shift tomorrow?” you ask Val as soon as you’ve hung up. “Ben asked me to go with him to the Juventus game.”

“Of course, I couldn’t deny you a romantic trip to Italy with your boyfriend,” Val teases, stealing one of your chips.

“Not romantic, and not my boyfriend,” you remind her. “I’m just helping out a friend.”

“You’ve been helping him a lot lately,” Val observes. “I know he’s your best friend, but remember to set boundaries if you need to, you know?”

The truth is, despite the crazy schedule and the lying and the sudden intrusions into your private life, you haven’t considered pulling out once.

“Right, yeah, I will,” you agree offhandedly, taking a big sip of your glass of wine. “Seriously, though, it’s not such a huge sacrifice on my part. There are worse things than going to Italy on a private jet.”

“That’s true,” Val chuckles. “Think any of Ben’s teammates want a fake girlfriend? Or a real one, for that matter? That Reece James is so fit-“

“And taken,” you cut her off with a laugh. “But I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

The next evening, Ben picks you up with a driver to go to the airport. You’re wearing a comfy Chelsea jumper he gave you a couple years ago with white joggers and blue Nikes that match your top.

“Look at you, super fan,” Ben says with a smile as he grabs your bags from you and loads them into the boot of the car.

“Yeah, well, I figure if I’m travelling with the team I should dress appropriately,” you grin. “You ready for tomorrow?”

Ben nods without saying anything as you both get into the backseat.

Aside from the obvious reasons you decided to come with him, there’s another lingering in the back of your mind. You want to be there to support Ben - not as a fake girlfriend, but as his best friend.

It’s by no means the most important game of his career, but it is the first time he’s playing against Juventus since he tore his ACL two years ago, and you know it has to be weighing on him a bit.

Seeing him get hurt like that was one of the worst moments of your life, so you can only imagine how awful it was for him.

He’s obviously long healed now and is probably the most fit he’s ever been, but you know him well enough to know that he’s thinking about it as you sit in comfortable silence on your way to the airport.

He finally breaks the silence when he gets a text and turns to you with a slightly apologetic look on his face.

“That was our club travel manager, apparently all the rooms at the hotel we’re staying at are booked,” he says. “She said she can get mine upgraded to two beds, though, are you okay to share? It just might look suspicious if you stay at a different hotel.”

“Yeah, sure,” you shrug. “Are you guys allowed to share a room with your significant others the night before a match, though?”

“Not usually, but I guess since it’s just a friendly they’re making an exception,” Ben explains. “We don’t play til tomorrow night, either, so that helps. I think most of the lads care more about taking their girls on a nice trip than whether we win, honestly.”

“Well, I’m not flying all the way to Italy to watch you lose,” you tease, poking his ribs. “So lights out by midnight, Benji.”

“Buzzkill,” Ben mutters with a smile, no longer seeming nearly as tense as he was a few minutes ago.

You board the Chelsea plane and say hello to everyone as you get on before settling in your seats, enjoying the luxury of the private jet.

It’s only a two-hour flight, which gives you just enough time to eat dinner, chat a bit with Reece and Mia, and watch a couple episodes of The Office with Ben on his iPad.

You land in Turin around 9 and get checked into the hotel shortly after 10, at which point you and Ben are both exhausted. You worked the morning shift today before Val took over for the second half, and you know Ben was in training at Cobham earlier to prepare for tomorrow’s game.

When you get your key card and make your way to your room, you’re more than ready to collapse on the bed and get a good night’s rest before tomorrow.

Which is exactly what you’re about to do when you realize the issue - there’s only one bed.

“Shit, I asked her for a double room,” Ben murmurs. “There must have been a mix-up. Let me go see what I can do.”

“Ben, it’s fine,” you sigh, dropping your bag on the floor. “You said the hotel is fully booked, so there’s nothing to be done anyways. I can sleep on the couch.”

There’s a small sofa on the other end of the room, certainly big enough for one person, though it doesn’t look particularly comfortable.

“No, you take the bed,” he insists, already walking over to put his stuff on the couch.

“You have a game tomorrow, I’m not letting you get a crappy sleep on the couch,” you reply. “Look, this is dumb, let’s just share the bed. It’s huge.”

It is a massive bed, and it looks so incredibly comfy and inviting right now that it would be a shame for either of you to have to sleep on the sofa.

Plus, you two have shared a bed many times before. Mostly when you were kids, but still. There’s really nothing weird about it.

Ben just nods in agreement and you go to prepare for bed in the washroom, changing into a silky pair of PJ shorts but leaving on the Chelsea sweatshirt. After you’ve brushed your teeth and finished a fairly brief version of your usual skincare routine, you finally climb into the bed.

“Ugh, this mattress is like a cloud,” you sigh with pleasure as you shift to feel the silky sheets against your legs. “I love posh hotels.”

“I know you do,” Ben laughs at your zen expression and the way you’re stretching out like a cat.

After he’s followed suit and prepared for bed as well, Ben emerges from the bathroom and joins you on the other side of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly with his weight.

Although you know how tired he is, you can practically hear the gears in Ben’s mind whirring as he stares up at the ceiling. Even in the dim lighting of the lamp on his side of the bed, you can tell what he’s thinking about.

“You okay?” you ask quietly, turning on your side to face him.

Ben hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“About the last time you played Juventus?”

He turns to look at you, surprise flashing on his face for a moment before he lets out a sigh.

“Yeah,” he admits. “How did you know?”

“I know you pretty well, Benji” you remind him, settling further into the warmth of the duvet as you continue to face him. “You wanna talk about it?”

He sighs again, avoiding eye contact with you.

“It’s dumb. Obviously nothing like that is gonna happen again, and it’s been two years now,” he says. “I’m just thinking about that moment, you know?”

You try not to think about that moment as much as possible - the sight of him writhing on the grass, clutching his knee, as fear gripped you and didn’t let go while he was helped off the pitch.

“That’s natural, Ben, it was traumatic for you,” you say softly, reaching out to quickly squeeze his arm. “It will be fine, though. You’re going to be fine.”

Ben nods with a small smile, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes soften as they stare into yours, and he bites his lip as he seems to be pondering something.

“I have a confession to make.”

His words make your heart jump for a moment, though you’re not sure why. You nod in encouragement, waiting to hear what he has to say next.

“It wasn’t exactly Shreya’s idea for you to come with me,” Ben admits quietly. “I mean, she agreed it would be good for PR once I suggested it, but I was the one that wanted you to come.”

“Oh,” you breathe, your heart continuing to beat erratically for some unknown reason. “Why?”

“I just…thought it would be easier with you here,” he confesses. “You make everything easier.”

You clench your jaw as you try to fight back the tears threatening to form in your eyes at his earnest display of emotion. You know that you’re the only person he is this vulnerable with, the only one who gets to see this side of him.

“I’m sorry I lied to you, though, I just didn’t want to seem…weak, I guess,” Ben says with a small yawn.

“You know showing emotion doesn’t make you weak, Ben,” you remind him. “It makes you stronger, actually.”

This was something you drilled into him in the aftermath of his injury, every time he would try to downplay the toll it was taking on him. His other friends and family may have believed him, but you always saw right through it.

“I know,” Ben smiles. “You taught me that. And therapy and a lot of self-reflection, but mostly you.”

Before you can reply, Ben’s eyes fall shut and you can tell he’s asleep just moments later, the day catching up with him.

You typically read or watch YouTube on your phone before bed, but tonight, you find yourself watching him. His peaceful expression and the warmth he radiates even with a good amount of space between you in the bed are oddly comforting.

You drift off into a blissful sleep within minutes.

When you wake up the next morning, you’re feeling more content than you have in a long time.

There’s something soft pressed against your cheek, and your entire body feels warm. It almost feels like you’re still in the middle of a good dream that you’re reluctant to wake up from.

It’s only as you begin to gain more consciousness that you realize it’s not a dream - you’re in Italy. With Ben. Who you are completely cuddling with right now.

You’re laying half on top of him, your cheek pressed to his chest and your arm around his waist. Your legs are tangled with his and his arms are loosely wrapped around you, holding you in place.

You must have gravitated closer to each other through the night without realizing it.

It’s a bit strange, as you’re not much of a cuddler and very used to sleeping alone, but you try not to read into it. Or how comfortable and right it feels.

You don’t really want to move, but you want to avoid any potential awkwardness if Ben wakes up and you’re still in this position, so you make an attempt to roll away.

As soon as you try to slip out of his grasp, though, his arms tighten around you and he mumbles something in his sleep that sounds a lot like your name.

Now pressed even closer to him, your nose buried in his neck, you can’t help but lay still for a moment and breathe in his scent - the scent that reminds you of late night drives in his dad’s car and movie nights with him and Oscar and warm hugs after he won a game. It’s the smell of familiarity and comfort.

It’s…Ben.

Something begins to bubble up in your stomach and you quickly pull away from him, moving to your own side of the bed. He groans slightly as he’s woken up by the sharp movement, his eyes fluttering open.

“What time is it?” he mumbles to you, and you glance over at the alarm clock.

“It’s half seven, you can sleep another half hour before training,” you tell him quietly.

“Mm, okay,” Ben murmurs back before closing his eyes again and drifting off.

No longer feeling tired, you slip out of bed to shower and get ready for the day ahead of you.

You’re already dressed and out on the town in search of some good coffee - which shouldn’t be hard in Italy - to give you some energy.

The crisp morning air also helps you shake off the feeling of unease at how much you enjoyed waking up in Ben’s arms.

By the time you return from your walk, Ben has already gone to training. He’s left a few pastries from the hotel breakfast for you, which you devour before texting Mia to make your plans for the game later.

Kick-off is at seven, so you and a bunch of the other WAGs make plans to go for an early dinner. Until then, you spend most of your day watching reality TV in the hotel room and enjoying the relaxing break from reality.

Before dinner, you get dressed in a simple outfit of jeans and a long-sleeve white t-shirt to wear underneath Ben’s kit. You’re not sure if it’s just that you have some time to kill or some other reason, but you find yourself putting more effort into your hair and makeup than usual, making sure it looks perfect before you leave.

The meal is nice - you have a huge bowl of pasta and a couple glasses of wine as you chat with the other girls. You’ve gotten pretty used to talking about Ben as if he’s your boyfriend at this point, fielding questions about your relationship with ease.

“You’re getting good at this,” Mia whispers to you when the others aren’t paying attention, and you feel yourself blushing. “I’m almost starting to believe it myself.”

There’s a nagging feeling in your chest at her words that doesn’t go away until you’re at the stadium and the game begins, giving you something to focus on.

Your heart rate does pick up a bit as you watch Ben play, even though you know there’s no merit to his superstitions about playing against Juventus again.

Thankfully, the game ends with no injuries and Chelsea up 3-0. Ben also plays exceptionally well, overwhelming you with pride as he gives a stellar defensive performance and makes some key tackles, as well as contributing to the offense with an assist.

The boys decide to celebrate the win by going to a club near the hotel. Almost two hours and a few drinks later, you find yourself sitting next to Ben and Conor, talking excitedly about the game today and how well they’ve been playing lately.

“I’ve seen you play more than anyone, and I’m telling you that last game against Newcastle was one of your best performances ever,” you say emphatically.

You’re a bit tipsy and close enough to Ben that your legs are touching, even closer when he rests his arm on the cushion behind you.

“You’re taking the piss,” Ben rolls his eyes with a smile, because deep down, he knows you’re right. He has been at his best lately, and you both know it.

“Let your girl compliment you, mate,” Conor says with a grin. “She’s right.”

“Exactly,” you say, “I’m always right.”

You’re expecting Ben to argue and make a cheeky comment about how you’re not always right with an embarrassing story to back it up, but instead, he just turns his head to look you in the eyes and smiles softly.

“Yeah, you are.”

Your heart is already starting to flutter when Ben reaches to take a sip of his drink and, after setting the glass back down, lets his hand settle on your thigh.

His palm is warm and heavy as it rests there, Ben continuing to talk with Conor as you try to determine whether this display of casual affection is part of the act or something more. You’re not entirely sure what you want the answer to be.

Eventually, Ben retreats to the bar to get you both another drink, leaving you chatting with Conor’s girlfriend Aine.

You don’t know her very well, but you find it easy enough to make small talk. She’s a lovely girl who’s been with Conor for years, and it’s always nice to make a new friend.

Your night is going pretty well, really. The guys won, you’re buzzed, you’re in a beautiful city in a foreign country. You’re enjoying the music and the conversation and spending time with Ben. Soon, you’ll probably both be tired enough to go back to your room and watch a film together.

And maybe you’ll end up sleeping in his arms again. Platonically, of course.

You’re trying not to get too excited at the thought when you suddenly realize Ben has been at the bar for a long time, and you glance over to see why.

Which is when your eyes land upon him engaged in conversation with a beautiful woman. She’s tall, blonde, gorgeous, and nothing like you. She’s exactly the type of girl Ben usually goes for.

You don’t know why, but you hadn’t considered the fact that he might be continuing to hook up with girls since you began your fake relationship. There’s no reason why he wouldn’t, now that you think about it, and the whole point of this thing is to get the press off his back without having to actually settle down.

You’ve seen him flirt with countless girls before and never experienced more than mild amusement, but that is definitely not how you feel right now.

You feel…shit.

You’re jealous.

“You alright, Y/N?” Aine asks you gently, reaching out to touch your hand. “You’ve just gone a bit pale.”

“Um, yeah, thanks,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “It’s just a bit hot in here, I think.”

It’s definitely not, and Aine obviously knows that, but you don’t know each other well enough for her to press you further, thankfully.

Ben walks over a few minutes later and asks to speak with you privately, and you follow him to a quieter part of the club.

“So, that girl over there asked me to go back to her place, and I think I’m gonna go.”

You try to regulate the way your face falls at this information, but you’re obviously unsuccessful, as Ben immediately furrows his eyebrows.

“Oh, don’t worry, she’s not gonna leak anything,” Ben says quickly. “She doesn’t have any idea who I am, I didn’t even tell her my last name. It’s just a one-night thing.”

Right. Because him jeopardizing the fake relationship he asked you to take part in for his sake would be the logical thing for you to be upset about.

“Okay,” is all you can manage to say.

“Alright,” Ben smiles, squeezing your shoulder. “You’ll be alright getting back by yourself? I can ask Reece to-“

“It’s across the street, Ben, I’ll be fine,” you blurt out, coming off a bit harsher than you meant. When he frowns, you just sigh and plaster on a fake smile. “Sorry, just tired. I’ll probably head to bed soon.”

“You must be glad you don’t have to share with me again,” Ben jokes, not knowing how far from the truth that is.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks again for coming, Y/N,” he says sincerely. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Ben leaves you with a peck to your forehead and an ache in your chest that doesn’t go away for the rest of the night.

Especially not when you close your eyes in a bed that suddenly feels too empty and too cold, and all you can picture is Ben’s arms wrapped around another girl.

tag list: @lunamelona @kathb59 @captainwans @amandaaa1025 @bbygrlllllll @cinderellawithashoe @batmansb1tch @ncentic (let me know if you would like to be added!)

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagine #chelsea fc imagine #this love #my fics

171 notes · View notes

frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 11 months

Text

i'm outta my head over you Pt. 5

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | AO3 | playlist

today's @steddie-week prompts: hurt/comfort and familiar

While he waits for Wayne to get home so he can confront him about the ‘Teddy’ thing, Eddie thinks back on everything Steve had added to this tape.

He remembers that first time he actually talked to Steve; he was well aware of his existence before the King had so graciously graced him and Gareth with his presence that day, but was that really the time Steve was talking about in his notes? It had to be, there weren’t any other times they talked until the spring break from Hell.

It was only ever burning jealousy for Nancy Wheeler before (and after) that first time. Bitter thoughts of ‘I’d be much better for you than her,’ when he’d spotted them kissing against Nancy’s locker.

“I was made for lovin’ you, baby..” Eddie mumble-sings to himself at the memory. That was weird.

Then Steve had gone and dropped his haughty King Steve persona, bullied out of it By Hargrove. He lost Wheeler to Byers, and somehow didn’t become more of an asshole?

Much like the KISS song from a second ago, Eddie sings “Disaster and disgrace, the King has lost his Crown..” without even thinking about it. The song yanked up from whatever recess of his mind holds onto ABBA songs.

Huh. Wait a minute…

Eddie hops up and starts shuffling through his and Wayne’s admittedly impressive record collection. KISS’s Dynasty album he needed was not too hard to find, but Voulez-Vous? That’s…gonna be harder. It’s gotta be around here somewhere though, ABBA is one of Wayne’s guilty pleasures.

Shit…he and Steve have much more in common than he thought…

Eddie moves onto thinking back over those couple weeks spent hiding out with Steve while he hunts. He’s got a few hours to kill.

-------

The days spent at Casa Harrington both felt like they’d crawled by at a snail's pace, and were over and behind him all too soon.

It was awkward in the beginning, but they quickly fell into a pattern.

Eddie was in the guest room on the main floor so he didn’t have to walk more than he needed to with the fresh graft wound on his leg, and Steve was on the couch in the living room (much to Eddie’s dismay).

“Steve, for the love of all that is unholy, PLEASE just sleep in your own bed? I’m perfectly fine down here, promise.”

“Not happenin’ Eds. My couch is super comfy anyway.”

Steve helps him to the bathroom whenever he needs it, and when he’s at work, Eddie uses those short trips to stretch his leg like his doctor said to.

Luckily for Eddie, the initial bandages on both his donor graft wound and his grafted wound (the biggest on one his left side) came off while he was still in the hospital, so he was able to shower and clean the areas with the mild soap Steve got for him.

Steve would help him over the lip of the tub after he got undressed (another time to slowly work on stretching the areas a bit), and take his towel from around the curtain once he was in.

Then he’d hover (every. time.), pretending that he had things to clean in the main floor bathroom until Eddie was done, and help him back out once a towel was around his waist.

The first couple days were the worst; Eddie had next to no energy at all for doing anything , but Steve is nothing if not a gracious host; so when he was led to the bathroom on the first day he needed a shower, Eddie found a small stool in the tub already, the usual bath mat outside the tub, plus some of those stick-on grippy things were stuck onto the floor of the tub and laid out in a path on the tile to where the sink was.

They were shaped like ducks.

“Ducks, huh?”

“Yep! ‘Rubber Duckie, you’re the one’ and all that. You like ‘em?” He sang (in a perfect imitation of Ernie), genuine as ever.

“Yeah Stevie, I love ‘em.” What else was he gonna say?

Steve had set him down on the closed lid of the toilet and started the water for him, aiming the shower head away from the curtain.

“Okay, let's get these bandages off, huh? Arms up!”

Eddie obliges, raising his arms up over his head as far as they could go for Steve to carefully pull his shirt over his head.

“Sit up straight for me.” He does, and Steve gently works the two large sections of gauze and tape across his torso off.

By time he’s done, Eddie’s shaking with the effort of holding himself up.

“Okay, okay, relax,” Steve coos, “I just have to get the one on your face now, then we’ll worry about your leg.”

Eddie nods, leaning his uninjured cheek into Steve’s large palm while he works the bandage off his other cheek and jaw.

Steve’s hands are so warm, he starts to fall asleep.

“Wake up, sunshine, gotta stand you up.” Steve says, the smile evident in his voice.

Eddie nods, keeping his eyes closed while Steve helps him up, and guides him to hold onto the towel bar.

“Okay, I’m going to take off your sweats, and then I’ll lift the leg of your shorts to take the bandage off. Is that okay, Eddie?”

Eddie nods, still tired.

“Eddie, please tell me what I’m going to do so I know you heard me.”

“Pants off, leg up.”

Wait.

“Wait, that sounded wrong.”

Steve just chuckles, “At least I know you were listening.”

He does exactly what he said he was going to do, and stands back up.

Oh no, now all that’s left is his boxers.

“OK, I’m going to put this over your shoulders and clip it in front,” of course he’s already got a plan for this. Eddie’s heart swells in his chest. “Then all you have to do is shimmy outta your shorts; you’ll still be covered up. Is that alright?”

“Yeah Stevie, sounds great.” Eddie chuckles, and Steve wraps a huge fluffy towel over him. “Where’d you get a giant towel?” he asks as it’s clipped around him with a just-as-giant claw clip.

Eddie feels Steve’s chuckle against his back and fights the urge to relax backward into his arms forever.

“It’s called a bath sheet. You can take some with you when you leave if you want.”

“Hm…A few will have my plasma all over ‘em.” Eddie rationalizes, getting another chuckle from the other man.

“Alright, smarty pants, you should be secure. When you’re ready, I’ll help you get over the edge of the tub so you can sit down on the stool.”

Eddie nods, and starts working his boxers down. Once off, he looks behind him for Steve.

If he wasn’t holding onto this rack for dear life, he’d probably keel over with how hard he laughs.

“What?” Steve feigns stupidity.

“Nice mask, Steve-o.” he’s wearing a leopard print eye mask, his hair sticking out goofily on the sides from where the elastic cinches above his ears.

“I can take it off if you wan–”

“No! Leave it!” Eddie laughs, grateful Steve can’t see how red his face is right now. “Can’t have ya getting a sneak peek of the goods.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ll just wait for the premiere, then. Now!” he brushes past that (and Eddie’s spluttering), “Let’s get you settled.”

He reaches forward for Eddie’s hand on the rack, dwarving it in his, and gently guides the two of them forward, his front to Eddie’s back as support. Damn, his legs are tired.

Steve reaches out ahead of them and blindly swipes for the shower curtain once, twice, catching it on the third swipe and sliding it open.

“Okay Eds, be very careful.”

Eddie steps slowly and carefully over the edge of the tub, realizing why Steve turned the showerhead earlier. The spot he’s stepping onto is still bone dry, much safer.

“Both feet are in, Cap’n. Hold this?” He swaps his hand in Steve’s for the corner of his towel. “Gonna take the clip off and you can take the towel.”

“Got it,” Steve says, and once he’s thrown the towel behind him: “Hand please?”

Eddie puts his hand back where it belongs, and lets himself be supported while he sinks down, slowly, onto the stool.

“I’m good Stevie, thank you.”

“‘Kay.”

He straightens, letting go of Eddie’s hand and snaps the curtain shut briefly, opening the other end to reach up for the showerhead.

“Ooh, fancy.” Eddie snarks when he catches the handheld head from Steve’s outstretched arm (it was almost too far to his left to grab).

“Shut up.” Steve chuckles and closes the curtain again, talking through it now. “The head should fit between the wall and the bar there, so you can put it down if you need to, the soap you should use is on the shelf on the left with a washcloth, and I snagged my mom’s curly-hair shampoo and conditioner,”

Eddie feels like he’s gonna cry.

“...Doc said not to let the water beat down on your wounds so make sure you keep the spray away, yell if you need me or when you’re done, okay? I’ll grab my blindfold and be here in two seconds flat.”

“Got it, thanks Steve.” Eddie manages through the lump in his throat.

“No problem Eddie."

Steve’s just as careful, gentle, respectful, on Eddie’s way out of the shower; blindfold on, he keeps his arms out for Eddie to lean on while he dries the majority of the water off himself, holding him steady while he pulls on a new pair of boxers.

“I’m taking the blindfold off now,” Steve says, then does, when he doesn’t hear any complaints from his friend. “You gotta stay standing for a little bit longer, okay? Gotta get your leg wrapped up first.”

Eddie nods, trying his best to hold back how heavy his breaths are coming with the constant exertion over the past half hour.

As soon as the last piece of tape is in place, Steve lowers him back onto the lid of the toilet.

“Here, drink this whole glass.” He says, handing Eddie a glass of water and the painkillers he needs.

By the time the water is gone, he’s air dried a bit more.

Steve carefully scrunches the water from Eddie’s hair, expertly twists it up into the claw clip, and drapes the towel over Eddie’s don’t slip and die bar.

He coaxes Eddie to sit up straight again with the promise of a Star Trek marathon in order to properly apply the prescribed cream and new bandages over the worst of his wounds (“Just a little bit longer sweetheart, you’re doing great!” he says proudly).

Steve ends with the one on his cheek, and once again, Eddie is drifting off; Steve lets him doze, leaned forward onto his stomach with his head turned slightly to get bandaged.

It’s like that every time. Even after Eddie gets stronger and can get in and out of the shower on his own, bitching at Steve in frustration for his damn hovering, he’s there, ready to help him when, by the end of his shower, he’s fully beat and sick to his stomach for being mean to his friend.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, they slowly load Eddie into the beemer, Eddie would suffer through physical therapy, and Steve was there to half-carry him back to the car (and there to order Eddie’s favorite flavor of ice cream for him when he inevitably zonks out in the front seat).

Steve’s always there.

-------

“You were made for lovin’ me..” Eddie sings, continuing his song-thought from before (though it’s marginally worse after recording the track to the B-side of Steve’s mixtape)

It’s the first song in response to Steve’s side.

“Buckley, you’re a genius.” he mutters to himself.

The front door squeaks open then, oh shit, is Wayne’s shift over already?

---

“…shut up..” he says, after agonizing through the memory of his and Steve’s first kiss. Knowing now that Steve had meant it, well, not actually, but actually wanted to have it be more of a deal… Yeah, Wayne and Robin are right. Doofus to Steve’s Dingus! Right here!

“You’ve at least got your shit together now, right? You got a plan?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it,” he dismisses, “Speaking of, where’ve you hidden Voulez-Vous ?”

“S’that why all our albums’re out?” Wayne slumps down into his recliner with his mug (this time, it’s the Campbell’s Soup one).

“...I’ll put ‘em away, I promise.”

Wayne sighs, but reaches down the side of his chair nearest the wall with his free hand, and returns with the album in his hand.

“Aw what the hell, I never would’ve found that!”

“A man’s recliner pockets are a sacred place.”

“Ew..?”

“I’ll leave it here fer ya, you ain’t doin’ nothin’ with it now. You’re going to bed.” Wayne emphasizes the ‘you’re going to bed’ part.

“Fine, fine,” Eddie tosses his hands up, “I’ll worry about woo-ing my man in the morning.”

Wayne’s responding “Ew.” is both muffled and amplified by his mug.

He spends the early afternoon after waking up cleaning up his mess like he’d promised, packing away all the vinyl into their designated cabinets under their kitchen bar before pulling out Voulez-Vous .

As soon as he hits stop on recording The King Has Lost His Crown (seriously, the tape had just clicked to a stop), his front door bursts open.

“The hell??” Eddie shoots up from his spot on his bedroom floor to the front door.

Dustin and Will are on either side of Max, supporting her over the threshold..

“Is she okay? What are you all doing here? You shits are lucky I just stopped recording!” he fusses.

“We were bored at my place, so we came to visit. Now stop being a Steve and grab my chair from outside.” Max commands.

“Rude.” Eddie scoffs, but does as she demands. “Your throne, m’lady.”

The two boys lower her into the seat and wheel her back in line with the couch before collapsing down on it themselves.

“So what are you recording?” Dustin asks, pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged on the cushion.

“Uh…” Shit! “…It’s a party mixtape, a couple songs for each of ya.”

Will lights up “Can we hear?”

“What songs did you use for me?”

“Yeah, what about me? I’m assuming you got some Kate Bush.”

“Calm down! Calm down, it’s a surprise, okay?

“Whose did you just record?” Will asks, ever the calming presence.

“It was one of Steve’s obviously.”

Eddie blanches.

“How d’ya figure?” Dustin asks Max, incredulous. “You can’t just know these things.”

“He came out here with ABBA in his hand. Obviously that’s one of Steves”

He did? Eddie looks over at the kitchen counter; yep, there it is. Tossed haphazardly onto Wayne’s stack of old pay stubs.

“Ooh! Let us pick the other Steve song! Where’re your other records?” Will looks around, Max starts to move.

“Why should I let you? It was my idea!”

“Uh, we've known him longer. Duh”

“I think I’ve got things covered Dusty–”

“Damn you’ve got a lot of music” Max found their stash. “And it’s a lot of regular people music too, I thought you were a metalhead.”

“Careful, Snoopy, I most definitely am. But music is music, and music is good.”

Will and Dustin are already crowding around her chair to get to the vinyl. Well, there goes all the organizing he just did.

“What about this one?”, “No way, gotta use this!”, “He doesn’t even like them, though..”

Finally, Max stops the assault on his cabinets. “Wait, you guys, I've got it!”

Eddie sighs, giving up. “Whatcha got, Mayfield?”

Part 6 here!

EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL HUSBAND WHO WILLINGLY PROVIDED HIS HANDWRITING FOR EDDIE!!! WE LOVE HIM FOR THAT!!!! ❤️

eddie calling max 'snoopy' may or may not come from my parents also calling me that when i was little and would snoop around the house looking for presents when it was close to my birthday

tag list cause y'all asked so nice to be tagged!: @hellomynameismoo, @messrs-weasley, and @manda-panda-monium

168 notes · View notes

fanfictionalraven · 1 month

Text

Piece by Piece Pt. 4

Title: Piece By Piece Pt. 4

Summary: Dean struggles with his looming decision.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, original characters

Word Count: 3,288

Warnings: N/A

Author’s Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.

Read Piece by Piece Pt. 3 here.

You finally manage to pull yourself up from the front porch steps and go back into the house. It was an absolute mess and you needed something to do. So you set about fixing your home. You set the shredded couch cushions aside, deciding to try and repair them later. You turn the coffee table right side up and return the magazines and flowers to their original spot. You struggle to pull the knife out of the wall and it finally budges, letting the bloodstained note fall to the ground. Crumpling it up quickly, you throw it away before dropping the knife in the sink. You’re in the process of scrubbing the blood off the wall when your phone rings. Dean. You close your eyes and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You ask quietly.

“Hey, we’ve got them,” Dean answers from the other end of the line. You let out a breath and throw your hand over your mouth quickly.

“Are they okay?” You ask.

“They’re both fine. Tina’s unconscious so we’re gonna take her to the hospital,” he tells you. You nod, tossing the rag you’d been working with aside.

“Okay. I’m coming too,” you tell him, rushing to pick up your purse.

“We’ll meet you there,” Dean says before hanging up. You drop your phone into your purse before running out to your car. You fight tears as you fumble with your key, trying to stick it in the ignition. You stop and lay your head against the steering wheel, allowing yourself a minute to cry. M.K. was safe. Tina was safe. The monster no longer had them. Dean and Sam did and they were safe. You look over at the birthday cake still sitting in the passenger seat and smile a little. She’d get to have her birthday cake after all.

Once you’ve calmed yourself down, you’re finally able to get the car started. The drive to the hospital feels longer than it ever has despite there being little traffic on the road. Once you finally make it to the hospital, you park your car next to the Impala and, before going inside, you call Tina’s mom. It’s a difficult conversation to have. She’s your best friend and you hate lying to her, but you know you can’t tell her the whole truth. So you give her half-truths instead. She was taken by the killer but the F.B.I had found them. She lets you go, making her own way to the hospital now.

You rush into the emergency entrance and find Sam in the waiting room. A surge of panic rushes through you at the sight of him by himself. He stands when he sees you making your way over to him. He smiles, reassuringly, and places his hands on your shoulders, recognizing the look on your face.

“M.K.’s fine. Dean asked them to check her out too just to be sure and she didn’t want to go back by herself,” he explains. You sigh and nod before throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Thank you so much, Sam. I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” you tell him. He lets out a laugh, returning the hug.

“She’s my niece, Y/N. You don’t have to repay me,” he says. You nod, looking up at him.

“Well, still. Why don’t you and Dean stay the night with us? A nice comfy bed, instead of the cheap motel I’m sure you’re planning to stay at. We’ve got birthday cake and I’m sure M.K. would love having you both there,” you say, trying to persuade him. He laughs again and nods.

“You had me at comfy bed,” he says. You smile then bite your lip.

“Will Dean go for it?” You ask. Sam smirks slightly and shrugs.

“Just have M.K. pout at him and he’ll melt,” he says. You raise an eyebrow but before you can question him…

“Momma!!” You hear M.K. call, joyously. You turn on your heels just as Dean steps through the door with her on his hip. She’s clutching a bear you’ve never seen before in one arm, the other wrapped tight around Dean’s neck. It was a sight you’d only ever dreamed of seeing. Father and daughter together at last. He sets her down and you nearly fall to your knees, holding your arms open for her. She bounds into your arms and wraps her own around you tight. You hold onto her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Momma, you’re crushing me,” she laughs.

“I’m sorry, Baby Girl,” you say, letting her go. “What’s this?” You ask, pulling at the bear’s hat slightly. M.K. smiles widely and looks back at Dean. He smiles and sticks his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor. “I see.”

“Well, Dean,” Sam starts. The older Winchester looks up at his brother. “Y/N has graciously offered to let us stay with them tonight.” Dean’s eyes widen slightly and M.K. spins around on him quickly.

“Please!! We can have birthday cake!! It would be the best birthday ever if you came over!!” She says, bouncing slightly. You watch in amazement as his resolve melts away instantly before he nods.

“Yea, sounds good. I love birthday cake,” he says with a wink. M.K. squeals and runs over, wrapping her arms around his legs again. You look up at Sam and he nods.

“Told ya,” he mouths. You bite back a laugh before rising to your feet. “How about – M.K. and I go back to the motel and pick up our stuff?”

“Okay!!” She says, looking back at Sam. You turn to Sam, pulling your wallet out.

“I know I’m starving and I’m sure everyone else is. Why don’t you pick up something to eat too?” You suggest, handing him some cash. He takes it and nods, before holding a hand out for M.K.

“Sounds like a plan. What should we get, Birthday Girl?” He asks. She runs to him, clasping his large hand with her tiny one.

“Bacon cheeseburgers!!” She says. Sam snorts and looks at Dean as they start to leave the waiting room.

“Who knew a love of cholesterol was genetic?” He asks. Dean rolls his eyes and tosses the Impala’s keys to Sam quickly. You watch Sam and M.K. leave and shake your head slightly. They both already loved and adored her more than you could have ever imagined possible.

“You okay?” Dean asks, pulling you from your thoughts. You smile at him and nod.

“I’m good. You know you didn’t have to get her anything,” you tell him, sitting in one of the chairs. He shrugs, falling into the one next to you.

“Didn’t feel right showing up empty handed tonight,” he says. You look at him and smile.

“So you were still planning on coming to dinner?” You ask him. He sighs and runs a hand over his jaw. Your smile falls slightly. “You’d changed your mind.”

“No,” he says quickly. “No, I didn’t change my mind. I was just starting to panic when you called. Look, Y/N, I don’t know the first thing about being a dad. And she’s got these huge expectations,” he starts. You reach over, placing your hand on his.

“Dean, it’s okay. I get that this is a lot to take in in one day. I really do,” you tell him. He nods and you bite your lip, watching him. He turns his hand over, interlocking your fingers.

“I’ve got so many questions and no idea where to start,” he admits. You let out a laugh and nod slightly. “What are we waiting for?” He asks, looking up at you.

“Tina’s mom, Lily. She’s my best friend. I can’t just leave her daughter here alone,” you say. He nods and looks around the waiting room. There’s a long silence as Dean appears to be sorting his thoughts. His thumb rubs absentmindedly across the back of your hand.

“Did they know you were pregnant?” He finally asks. You shake your head, looking at your hand in his.

“No. I found out about a month before I graduated. I didn’t know what they would do if they found out so I kept it to myself. Met with my social worker after graduation and she tried to get me to give her up. Do exactly what my mother did. Told me it would be too hard to have a baby and go to school. We’d both be better off,” you tell him. He looks at you quickly and you shrug.

“Did you ever think about it?” He asks. You smile and shake your head.

“Never,” you pause and let out a laugh. “And it was really, freaking hard. I gave birth in the middle of my first semester of school and I was just about to flunk out when I met Lily. She started keeping M.K. for me and helped me study. She was a lifesaver.”

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone. If I had known, I swear, Y/N,” he says, shaking his head.

“I know, Dean,” you say softly. He looks at you and you’re surprised to find a sadness in his eyes. You reach up, placing your other hand against his cheek. He smiles a little when you do.

“Why didn’t you find someone else?” He asks. You smile at that.

“It’s not exactly easy for a single mother to get a date. I can’t just go out to have fun. I don’t even want to, really. And I’m not just looking for someone for me. He has to be right for M.K. too,” you tell him. “There have been a couple of men over the past few years. Good men that I thought would turn into something but they never did for different reasons.” He watches your face for a moment, as though he’s struggling to say something. He looks over at an empty chair as you watch him.

“You name her after Mom?” He asks.

“I did. I thought about giving her your last name but decided it would be easier logistically for her to have mine instead. But I did want her to have some part of you. I tossed around the idea of Deanna but I liked Mary better,” you tell him. He smiles and nods, a distant look in his eyes.

“She would have liked that,” he says. You smile and squeeze his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “I like it. It fits her.” He brings your hand up and kisses the back of it lightly.

“Y/N!!” A voice calls from the door of the waiting room. You look up quickly and find your best friend, rushing towards you frantically. You and Dean both rise, his hand dropping yours before you pull Lily into a hug.

“I’m so sorry Lily. This is all my fault,” you tell her. She returns the embrace, shaking her head.

“Of course it isn’t!!” She says. She pushes you back by your shoulders. “How is she?” She asks. You look back at Dean and he smiles.

“She’s fine. She was unconscious when we brought her in but last I heard she’s doing fine,” he tells her, reassuringly.

“Are you the one that saved her?” She asks. Dean cuts his eyes at you briefly then nods, holding his hand out.

“Dean Winchester,” he says. Your eyes widen slightly. You hadn’t expected him to be honest about who he was. You’d expected the fake F.B.I. badge to come out and some old rock star’s name. Lily stares at him.

“Wait. Y/N’s Dean?” She asks, looking at you quickly. You blush at that and Dean chuckles.

“Guess you could say that,” he says. Lily bypasses his still outstretched hand and throws her arms around him. His eyes widen before he slowly returns the hug.

“Thank you so much, Dean!!” She says. He laughs lightly and shrugs as she lets go of him. She looks over his face for a moment before turning back to you. “You were right. He is gorgeous.”

“Lily!!” You gasp, your face heating up instantly. You catch Dean smirk slightly as he looks down at the ground.

“And M.K. does have his eyes,” she says. You shake your head and loop your arm through hers quickly.

“Dean, we’re gonna go find a nurse and figure out where Tina is,” you tell him. He looks up at you, still smiling, and nods.

“I’ll go wait at the car,” he says. You nod and fish your keys from your purse before handing them to him.

“It was nice to meet you,” Lily calls to him as you drag her from the waiting room. You stop at the nurse’s station and they give you Tina’s room number. You start to go down the hall when Lily pulls you back, stopping you. “Tee’s fine. Get out of here.”

“What?” You ask, frowning. She rolls her eyes at you.

“You’ve been waiting nearly 11 years for that man to come back into your life. And the fact that he’s here now, it’s like destiny or something. So go!!” She says, pushing you towards the entrance. You laugh and turn, hugging her quickly.

“Give Tina my love,” you tell her. She nods and hugs you back before pushing you towards the door again. You smile and walk outside into the cool night air. Dean’s leaning against the passenger side door. He stands up when he sees you coming over and pulls the door open. You stop in your tracks and he laughs.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I made you drive?” He asks. You smile and shake your head.

“You don’t even know where you’re going,” you tell him, crossing your arms. He rolls his eyes.

“I’m real good at following directions,” he says. You let out a laugh then slide into the passenger side of your car, moving the cake to your lap. Dean closes the door before running around to the driver’s side.

The drive back to the house is relatively quiet. You give Dean turn by turn directions and he pulls into your driveway not long later. You both get out, you picking the cake up to finally take inside. He looks over the house appreciatively as you lead the way to the front door.

“This is nice,” he says. You smile and glance at him.

“Thanks. It’s the gold key with pink nail polish on it,” you tell him. He nods and looks at the keys still in his hand. He unlocks the door and pushes it open, allowing you to walk inside first. You hear him close the door as you walk into the kitchen, turning the lights on as you go. You set the cake on the counter then turn to the sink to wash the dishes that have been waiting since last night. “Sam said you had them check M.K. out too,” you call to him.

“Yea, wasn’t entirely sure I could take a ten-year old’s word on if she was actually hurt or not,” he says, walking into the kitchen. You laugh lightly and nod as he leans against the counter opposite you. “Better safe than sorry, right?” You nod, glancing over your shoulder at him. “She was right, naturally. Which she so delicately reminded me of before we found you.”

“Sounds like her,” you say. You run the sponge over a plate slowly and watch the suds slip around. “You didn’t have to tell Lily who you were, you know.”

“Well, I figured she’d get suspicious of some F.B.I. agent hanging around all the time,” he says. The plate slips from your grasp and hits the metal sink hard, breaking in half. You reach in to grab the pieces quickly.

“Ahhh,” you gasp, pulling your now bloody hand from the water. You’d managed to cut your palm on the knife you’d forgotten was in there too. Dean’s at your side instantly, wrapping a towel around your hand. “There’s a first aid kit under the sink,” you tell him with a sigh. He nods and you move out of the way, letting him get the kit out. He sets it on the counter then lifts you up onto it as well with ease. You watch as he works on your hand, holding it over the sink to keep the blood from getting on your countertops.

“Shouldn’t need stitches. It isn’t too deep,�� he says, placing some gauze over it. He starts to wrap it up and you let out a laugh.

“You’re better at this than me and I’ve been medically trained,” you tell him. He smiles and shrugs. You bite your lip as you watch him. “You know, I’m not expecting anything from you.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, glancing at you as he cuts the bandage off and tucks the edge into the wrapping.

“You said that you introduced yourself to Lily because you’d be around all the time. I don’t expect that of you. I’m not asking that. I’m not asking you to marry me or move in or pay child support or anything,” you tell him. He laughs lightly, cleaning up the first aid supplies.

“I know you’re not,” he says. He returns the kit to its place under the sink before moving to stand between your knees. “Do you want me around?”

“Of course I do. But I’m not stupid. I remember the things you said about the life you live. And I know that what we had was just one night. I’d be certifiable if I thought you would just show up at my door and stay and we’d live happily ever after. That’s insane. But that’s not to say that our one night wasn’t special. I mean, I think we have a connection that we could possibly, maybe build a relationship on some day with some work but –,” Dean’s hand comes over your mouth, stopping you mid-rant.

“Will you shut up for half a second?” He asks, smiling. You nod and bite your lip as he uncovers your mouth. His hand drops to your waist where his fingers rub slowly. “I went back to find you. It was a few years later. Sam and Dad had this huge fight. Sam left to go to college and I thought if he could have what he wanted, why couldn’t I? But you were gone and no one knew where you were or what happened to you. So, I went back to Dad and kept hunting.” You slide closer to him, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. “You’ve always meant more to me than just some one night stand. That being said though, I don’t know if I can do normal.”

“I understand,” you tell him. He sighs and leans in, resting his forehead against yours.

“I feel like a freakin’ seesaw. I want to be around. I want to be there for M.K. And I sure as hell don’t want you with anyone else. But I don’t know if I can stay and that isn’t fair to you two. And coming and going feels worse,” he admits. You can hear a car pulling into the driveway and cutting off. Sam and M.K. back with dinner. You lean in quickly and press your lips against Dean’s in a short, chaste kiss.

“Just think about it. I know what it’s like to have you for one night then spend the next 10 years wondering where you are,” you tell him. He nods slightly and takes a step back as the front door opens. You jump down from the counter just as M.K. comes running into the kitchen, the bear still in her arms.

Read Piece by Piece Pt. 5 here.

#fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #supernatural #spn #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #dad!dean

49 notes · View notes

jenniferjareauwife · 13 days

Note

JJ’s teenage daughter having nightmare after the events or ‘200’ and she just eventually gives up on the idea of sleeping whatsoever and JJ finds out about this and tries to help her. <3

Nightmares

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem reader

category: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: nightmares

word count: 917

summary: you're having nightmares after your mom was kidnapped so you give up on sleeping altogether but she finds out and helps you

I caught my breath as I woke up again, another nightmare. The 18th one the past two weeks. I was sick of it. Once I had one it was impossible for me to fall back asleep. Dreams of my mom dying in the hospital or her being tortured played in my mind on repeat and my sleeping mind didn't give me any relief either. "Hon?" I heard my mom from down the hall and I sighed, knowing how tired I was making her. She always woke up whenever I had a nightmare. It was a mom's sixth sense or something. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah." I rubbed my eyes and sat up. She opened the door and quietly made her way over to my bed.

"You ok?"

"Mhm." She laid down next to me, getting herself under my covers like she always did whenever I had a nightmare. Ever since I was little she would always come in and cuddle until I fell back asleep and then stay with me the rest of the night to make sure I was ok. "I'm fine mom, you don't have to stay."

"But you had a nightmare."

"And I'm 15, I can handle myself." I sighed but tucked myself under her arm anyways. This would be the last time I woke her up, the nightmares were getting tiring and what was the point of sleeping? A little sleep derivation never hurt anyone.

Two weeks had passed and I hadn't slept at all except for a few hour long naps here and there when my mom wasn't home. I set a timer on my phone to make sure that if I fell asleep I would wake up before I had a nightmare. "Baby I got the pizza!" My mom walked through the front door with her keys in her mouth, holding a large pizza in her arms.

"Thanks mom." I smiled, feeling my eyes burn a bit from the lack of sleep.

"Of course. Friday is our pizza night." She set the pizza down on the counter before pulling me into a side hug. My head rested on her shoulder and it was so comfy that I almost fell asleep. When she pulled away from the hug I let out a low whine. "What's wrong?"

"Hm?"

"You whined. What's wrong?" She put a slice on her plate before sitting down.

"Nothing." She frowned but didn't say anything else.

"You look tired. Why don't you go to sleep early tonight-"

"I have too much homework and I have to get up early for school."

"You're allowed to take a break." She said softly. "I mean...you've been through a lot."

"You've been through more."

"Yeah but you're my daughter. What happens to me happens to you. Especially with how close we are." She rubbed my back and I frowned, feeling guilty for basically punishing myself for something she went through. "Now what's up? I know that face."

"I...I haven't been able to sleep lately." I mumbled.

"Oh...I thought you weren't getting nightmares anymore, I thought it was getting better."

"No...I just stopped sleeping." I admitted.

"Oh baby. You know that's not good for you, right?" Her voice softened.

"I know...I'm sorry."

"Shh. No apologies. Just finish your dinner and then we can go to bed, ok?"

"No. No if I go to bed then I'll have nightmares and I'll see you dying or getting tortured-"

"Baby I'll sleep with you, ok? You might have nightmares but I'll be right there, ok? I'll be with you the whole time."

"But-"

"You need to sleep, and that's final." She put her hand over mine, squeezing it gently. "It's ok. I'll be with you the whole time." I felt my whole body relax just thinking about getting a good nights rest.

"Mom?" My lip trembled.

"Yeah?"

"I really need some sleep." She smiled, her eyes softening.

"Then let's go to bed, ok?" I nodded and held her hand as we walked upstairs. I flopped down on her bed, not caring about changing or brushing my teeth. I just wanted a good sleep with my mom.

"Mom come here." I groaned.

"I have to brush my teeth baby."

"But I want you now."

"I'll be there-"

"Mom I need you." I whined. She sighed and came over to me, forgetting what she was gonna do as soon as she crawled into bed next to me. "I'm scared to sleep." I whispered.

"But it's gonna be ok. I'm right here, yeah?" She pulled me into her, my head on her chest listening to her heartbeat, one of my arms and one of my legs draped over her. "Is that comfortable?" I nodded, amazed at how much my body relaxed once I heard her heartbeat.

"I need this."

"I know sweet girl." She stroked my hair, gently massaging my scalp while rubbing my back. "I'm here, ok? I've got you." She kissed the top of my head. "You can sleep in my bed as much as you need. I don't care if it's every night, I just want you to be getting sleep. I also just like sleeping with my baby girl."

"Mom." I blushed. "Well...I like sleeping with you too. You're comfy."

"Mhm. I know I am." I laughed softly, my eyelids getting heavy. "Just get some rest baby. I'll be right here if you have a bad dream, I'm right here, ok?" I nodded, feeling sleep slowly wash over me. "I love you."

"I love you too."

#x reader #criminal minds #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x you #x daughter reader #x daughter!reader

34 notes · View notes

sweetestofchaos · 1 year

Text

Got7′s Reaction to...Your Time of the Month

Backstory: You cancel date night because your period is kicking your ass

Mark

Mark’s been through this before, thanks to his sisters. He even has an app to keep track of everything himself. He planned date night with the possibility of your period coming into play. Mark is at your door with flowers and a new stuffy that also acts as a heating pad since you like to cuddle so much. He brings dinner to you from that restaurant that you wanted to try and later orders dessert to be delivered right to your door. The two of you are on the couch, your head reading on Mark’s lap while he massages your temples and pecks your nose playfully.

“Babe? Surprise! I hope you’re up for cuddles and chocolate!”

Jaebeom

This man is hands on. He is rubbing your back, using that super expensive body creme that you love so much. He remembered that you were running low and thought this was the best time to gift you with more...yes you did cry. Jaebeom’s fingers works their magic while you scroll through his phone trying to decide what you want to eat for dinner. You want something spicy and sweet. Keeping you in his arms, Jaebeom digs his fingers into your lower back and lets you absorb his body heat.

“Feeling better, babe? No? Just take a nap. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jackson

The moment he receives your text message, he’s already driving to the store with a mental checklist. He’s buying your favorite candy, tea and ramen. He even makes it a point to stop at that little bakery you love so much and gets your favorite cake. When Jackson shows up to your place, he is bundling you up in a warm blanket and hand feeding you which ever food you want first while giving you endless cuddles.

“Want more candy? Drink? Does it still hurt? Want me to kiss it better?”

Jinyoung

Canceling date night is a strong no. Jinyoung comes over to your place all dressed up and when he sees you on the couch stuffing your face with treats he sighs. Jinyoung settles beside you and pulls your feet into his lap, rubbing your feet and calves while you put on a movie. He’s okay with a date night in, no worries.

*sighs* “You’re really feeling it tonight huh? Did you need me to grab anything before you pass out?”

Youngjae

Youngjae is worried, very worried. He knows that your period isn’t fun at all, hell the last time it landed you in the hospital. He brings out the big guns and asks his eomma for her famous beef stir-fry recipe and gets to work. He even stops by her house to steal some homemade kimchi. At your place, Youngjae won’t let you move a finger. He is at your beck and call, treating you like the royalty that you are. The candy and little kisses to your forehead while you snuggle Coco is a wonderful bonus.

“Awe, my baby...I-I got eomma’s beef stir-fry recipe! Just wait a little and we can eat, kay? Get some rest, my lovely. Coco, your on watch until I’m done!”

Bambam

Can you say extra? This man is at your door with half the pharmacy and the ice cream aisle in his arms. Bambam makes sure to settle you in bed, making a fortress of pillows and the new heated blanket he got you. It’s nothing but sweet kisses and soothing words as he pulls out a handheld massager and starts working on your lower back and shoulders.

*struggling to turn on the massager* “Get comfy while I figure this thing out...oh! Nevermind, I got it!”

Yugyeom

Your pain is Yugyeom’s pain. The poor guy is doing the best he can at keeping you comfy, all nice and tucked away in your bed. He flew to your house with nothing but his love and Dalkyum. Thankfully you have everything you need to help ease the pain. Yugyeom orders food and he runs to the corner store to get treats, Facetiming you to make sure he gets everything that you would want along with some extra pain medicine.

“Okay, now what do you want, babe? Chocolate? Which one?”

#got7 x gn reader #got7 reactions #soc got7 #mark tuan #lim jaebeom #jackson wang #park jinyoung #choi youngjae #bambam #kim yugyeom #it's been a while yeah

252 notes · View notes

letstevengrantsleep · 2 years

Text

Oh You Like That, Huh?

TASM Peter Parker x f!reader

summary: your best friend's brother is away, and you're offered his bed for the night (it's smut, it's fluff, it's all I've been able to think about for days)

word count: 1,767

warnings: f receiving oral, Peter in the suit, fluff ending bc I'm a sucker for soft!peter, y/n being a proper simp for peter/spiderman

a/n: I really didn't know how to end this one I'm sorry if it's a bit crap, I need to re-work it (or just right a part 2 so everything ties together a bit better... we'll see)

masterlist

"So, honey," your best friend's Aunt smiles at you across the dinner table, "Peter's away for a few nights if you want to take his bed? I know the floor wasn't comfy for you last time." Her hospitality will never fail to make you smile, but as much as you'd hate to admit it, the thought of taking Peter's bed makes your face heat up with embarrassment, so you just nod feverishly as you continue eating your meal.

"Thank you May, that'd be really nice." Smiling, you join in with conversation and try your best not to think about who's bed you're staying in. Which turns out to be near impossible.

Something about him has always driven you crazy. The way he walks into a room, and the way he fidgets with his hands when he's talking, god it makes you think of absolutely filthy things that you'd rather his hands be doing. So when you reach his bedroom that night, pyjamas in hand, you're already practically dripping thinking about being in his bed.

It's perverted, filthy, down right fucking wrong how you climb into his bed and inhale the scent that's on his pillows. It's awful, how your mind travels to what Peter might get up to in this bed, what he might do in this bed. And as you drift off into sleep it's absolutely awful how you feel yourself getting wet at the thought of him in this bed with you.

You're awoken by the sound of the window opening and the feeling of an ice cold breeze hitting your bare skin, which makes you open your eyes drearily and cock your head over to the source of the noise.

The sight in front of you makes you snap up and pull the covers over your bare legs. "Peter?" You whisper, your tone coming across a little more whiny than you would have liked, confused and quite frankly a little embarrassed to be in his bed with him in the room.

His head snaps over to you from where he is at the window, eyes blown wide. That's when you notice his attire. No fucking way.

"It's you?" Staring, you take in the skin tight red and blue suit, trying not to make it obvious when your eyes rake over his figure.

"Keep your voice down, would you?" He whispers harshly, shutting the window and discarding his backpack on the floor. "Fuck", he exclaims, hands running through his hair as his face contorts into a look of frustration. "What are you doing in my room?" He asks, stalking over to the bed, throwing his mask across to his wardrobe.

"Aunt May said you weren't back for a few days, I-" You take a breath, flustered beyond belief at the sight of him. He looks so good. "I won't tell anyone, Peter, I'll go sleep on the floor and I won't say anything to anyone." Rambling, you shake your head and turn away, trying to hide the blush that's burning your face. He shakes his head, Peter knows you well enough to know you wouldn't say a thing.

"No, no, bunny, it's okay." Oh Jesus, well, you're a goner. He's had that nickname for you for years now, it's always given you butterflies but right now? While he's standing in front of you wearing that god damn costume? It makes you want to jump his bones. "You need to stay so no one gets suspicious. I'm not meant to be here."

That's when he looks at you, really looks at you, and notices some things he didn't a moment ago. The pink tint to your cheeks, the way your thighs are clenched together under his bed sheets, the smell of your arousal. You're turned on because of him.

"You okay, y/n?" Peter pokes, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He's been waiting for this for far too long, to get you in a room on your own, and he's not about to waste this perfect opportunity.

A frown plastered on your face, you nod quickly.

"You know," you watch with wide eyes as he leans forward, two hands coming to rest either side of your legs, "one of my abilities is that I have heightened senses." His eyes flick down to your chest as he speaks, "I can hear people's heartbeats, smell them, feel the change in their breathing."

He's impossibly close, breath fanning over your lips, making you entirely aware of the fact that he knows just how horny you are right now.

"Shit." You mumble, trying your best to scoot further back away from him to find some space to breathe.

"Hm," Peter smiles, "want to tell me something, baby?"

"You're being mean, Peter." He's making fun of you, you're sure of it. Laughing because his little sisters best friend has the hots for him.

"Me? No, no, no." Peter's shaking his head and smiling down at you, one hand coming up to cup your jaw. "I want to help you, bunny," his voice is low, raspy, and all you can do is take a sharp intake of breath as you feel his other hand start to run up your thigh until it lands inches away from where you're burning for him. "Let me touch you." He whispers, ducking his head to place soft kisses onto your neck.

"Peter." You warn, breath caught in your throat as he ghosts his fingers over your underwear.

"Every time I'm in a room with you I can hear the way your heartbeat picks up, feel how your hair stands on end when I talk to you, smell how I affect you. Bunny... come on," he sighs, dropping his head onto your shoulder, "this has been a long time coming."

You know he's right. You've been dreaming of this since you first met him, wishing, pleading to the universe that one day something would snap between the two of you.

"I don't want much, just let me taste you, bun." He whines, lifting his head to look at you with pleading eyes. God, how could you say no to that face?

"Fucking hell, Peter." You groan, squeezing your eyes tight and throwing your head back.

"Is that a yes?" He pesters, pulling lightly at the waistband of your underwear.

"Yes, yes."

He doesn't hesitate, sliding down the bed and pulling at your underwear with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You watch with an open mouth as he lowers himself and kisses up the inside of your thigh, strong hands pulling your legs apart to give him more space.

"No idea how long I've been dreaming of this pussy, y/n." He breathes out, "think about it every time I see you, fuck." That's when his lips attach to your clit, and oh god does it feel good. This fucker knows what he's doing and dear lord is he good at it. The way he sucks at your clit and licks stripes up your cunt as you lift your hips to meet his movements.

It's not long until you feel one of his hands dragging up your leg and finding it's home, teasing at your entrance. He's still in those gloves, those fucking gloves that you don't dare admit that you've fantasised about.

"Oh shit." You gasp, toes curling at the new sensation. You can practically feel the smirk on Peter's face as he pulls away just to taunt you.

"Oh you like that, huh?" He laughs, staring at you with a look of pure disbelief as he watches you come undone all because of him.

"Fuck you, Peter." You whine, arching your back further as he curls his fingers inside you.

"All in good time, baby." He mumbles, diving back down to attack your cunt once again, pulling you closer and closer to cumming on his tongue.

"Oh, fuck, Peter I- mm, oh-" suddenly you're shaking, body involuntarily folding in on itself as you squeeze Peter's head with your thighs, which pulls a sinful moan from him. Your orgasm hits you so hard you have to clamp your hand over your mouth to stop you from crying out as you shake, your other hand reaching down to pull at Peter's hair, trying desperately to pull him off your sensitive cunt as he eats you out. He's licking you clean of every bit of your release, pulling tears out of you as he carries on, unfazed by your relentless pulling of his hair. "Peter please, please," you beg, pulling yourself away from his hungry mouth.

You're in awe at the sight in front of you. His hair is a mess from where you've pulled at it, his mouth slick with your cum, his eyes hazy, and he looks so fucking good in that god damn suit.

"I should sneak back home more often if this is what I get to find in my bed." He teases, crawling up you and pressing a wet kiss onto your lips, hands either side of your head. Groaning in pleasure, he collapses down onto you, head resting in the crook of your neck.

"So," you start, heart beating out of your chest, "Spiderman, huh?"

He laughs up at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you over so your positions are switched, you on top of him.

"Is it really that impressive?" Grinning, he pulls his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, an action which has your stomach turning somersaults.

"I've sort of had a crush on Spiderman since those first videos went viral." You mumble, blush creeping back onto your face.

"And Spiderman's sort of had a crush on you too." Peter confesses, reaching up to place a soft kiss onto your lips. You can still taste yourself on him and it's absolutely intoxicating. "Maybe I'll bring you swinging round Queens, show you off a bit."

Feeling hands running up your sides, you sigh, content, and breathe out a chuckle. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not joking, bunny. I've waited far too long for you to give me permission to have you, I'm going to be screaming from the rooftops that you're mine."

The confession makes your cheeks go a deeper shade of red than you ever thought possible, it makes you feel like you're burning, and of course he knows that. He's grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he pulls you into him, allowing you to fall into a peaceful, blissed out sleep before daring to move to take his suit off and climb back out of his window.

#tasm!spiderman x you #tasm smut #tasm peter x you #tasm peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker smut

900 notes · View notes

khae-writes · 1 year

Text

sleepless [ belphegor/reader ]

tags: fluff, soft, wholesome, belphegor/gn!reader

header

One would think Belphegor wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping. As the Sin of Sloth, it was woven into his veins that he’d be able to sleep anywhere, anytime, anyhow with no problem whatsoever. But lately, things have been a bit different, and he suspected it had something to do with you.

The late evenings roll in and he’d still be wide awake. His purple irises staring up at the ceiling of the room he shares with his twin, turning onto his side in hopes that maybe a different sleeping position would make him fall asleep easier. Of course, the nagging sensation that he couldn’t point out was not so easily dissuaded.

With a mildly irritated sigh, he pushes off the blankets off his body before forcing his legs to move to the door. Belphegor took a quick glance over at Beelzebub, a soft smile curving up onto his caricature before walking out. He couldn’t afford to disturb his precious brother with his sleepless dilemmas.

The night was silent, and he usually liked it that way, but times like these where he was the only one awake so late when he didn’t choose so was perturbing. He wasn’t scared, no, how could he be? He was strong, and his strength was unmatched compared to most demons in Devildom. Harboring a Sin was just the bare minimum, and even with that bonus, people continue to underestimate his flaring temper when aggravated.

Should an intruder break in, he supposes he’ll take care of it swiftly.

Belphegor made his way into the kitchen after wandering the halls aimlessly, thinking maybe a midnight snack would help get his mind off things as well as put him to that long-desired sleepiness he’s been waiting to hit him. But to his slight surprise, you were there.

Dressed sleazy in your (f/c) pajamas barefoot and messy at the top of your head, both hands occupied with a carton of milk and a glass to drink from, the space between your nose and upper lip marked with white liquid—milk, he concluded. Hearing his footsteps, you immediately came to face with the indigo-haired demon staring at you with interest. Ridiculous as you looked, you were dreamy.

“(Y/n).” Belphegor called your name.

“Belphie…” You mused back, albeit confused and reluctant. “Why are you awake?”

The demon shook his head. “I can’t sleep. And you? You’re sneaking off to raid our fridge again? Beel has been influencing you lately, I see.” He teased, smiling in amusement.

You flinched, a blush overtaking your features as you attempted to defend yourself. “I-I was thirsty! Besides, I’ve been here long enough to be calling this fridge mine too.”

“Sure, sure. Anyways,” Belphegor waved you off dismissively, eyeing you with a light in his eyes, “you down for some cuddles? I think that’d get me to sleep pretty quick.”

You wiped the milk from your lips with your sleeve, “Clingy tonight, are we?”

He gave you an absent-minded shrug in response. “Is that a no?” Belphegor smiled tiredly, but he was sure you could easily see through that grin that he was exhausted. You were never been one for rejecting cuddles from him, so he was a bit hopeful to hear you say yes, but perhaps he put too much faith in you tonight.

“No, I think I could go for some cuddles too.” Or not. You smiled back at him, placing the milk carton back in the fridge and the glass onto the sink. Belphegor felt his heart soothe in a lull, smiling softly at your agreement. “But we’re staying in my room.”

Belphegor shrugged, “No complaints here.”

“Good. Let’s go, I’m feeling sleepy.” You yawned, stretching your limbs up into the air, hearing the familiar satisfying pops from your joints.

Once you’ve arrived, you set the bed with more blankets and pillows out, knowing that your dearest demon friend(?) liked his bedding extra thick and comfy for the ride. And being the generous and most hospitable person you always were, you laid it in his preferred sleeping sheet—he was very pleased you did that for him.

After preparing the bed, Belphegor quickly crashed onto your mattress, arms splayed out onto the comforters before glancing at you expectantly. Seeing as you weren’t making a move to join him, he sighed and sat up in a split second and quickly dragged you down with him with a plop, your head hitting his chest.

Now satisfied, Belphegor’s hands gently placed themselves on your waist, his grip on you firm so you don’t fall. “This… This feels right.” He breathed, smiling at you.

You chuckled, “That’s the sleepiness talking.”

“No… it really does. You in my arms, comfortable on your bed, sleeping together in peace—that sounds like a dream.” Belphegor hummed, closing his eyes softly as he tried to imagine it from a third person’s perspective. Nothing beats the firsthand experience though, he surmised in his head.

“Hmm… way to make my heart race, Belphie.” You murmured in a whisper, smiling sincerely. “Now, go to sleep.”

“Good night, (Y/n).”

A warm peck on his forehead was felt. It was quick, barely there, but he felt it. Belphegor smiled with closed eyes, allowing himself to fall into slumber for the remainder of the night.

“G’night, sweet dreams, Belphie.”

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me/reader #obey me belphegor x reader #obey me belphegor/reader #obey me belphie/reader #obey me belphie x reader #belphegor x reader #belphie x reader #belphegor/reader #belphie/reader #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #wholesome #obey me fanfiction #one shot #gender neutral reader #gn! reader

209 notes · View notes

sidthedollface2 · 6 months

Text

Third Love

Ch: 7 El Catrin

Pairing: Eddie x Mexican Female Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter Summary: After your perfect date with Eddie gets tarnished by his friends' hurtful words. Things take an odd turn when a stranger sends you to the hospital only to end up a friend of a friend. What happens when you're both left alone and an unchained melody plays in the background.

CW: MDNI 18+ Nightmares, mental illness, mentions of death of a parent, SMUT, Modern au Eddie, fuckboy Eddie, Locker room guy talk, Reader with another man (not cheating). I gave you a cute lil nickname cuz you're a 🍑

"You can call me Peach."

"Peach." He says, already liking the way your name rolls off his tongue. "Oh, um I was wondering if you knew where this building was? Was looking for it when I …accidently hit you."

You take a look at the address, brows furrowed as you glance back at him. "Are you visiting someone?" You question. "Yeah, yeah. My friend Max said it was ok to crash at her apartment for a few days while I get my stuff together."

Eyebrows raised in surprise, "Did she now," this was all news to you. Where was he going to sleep? When was she going to tell you? Sure, you weren't really home that often, but a little heads up would be nice.

"I guess you could help me upstairs, since you'll be staying over."

Steve grins from ear to ear, already holding your purse and his duffle bag, hand on the small of your back guiding you slowly up the steps. When you reach your apartment Max is nowhere to be found.

Glad to finally be home after a long day, you strip out of your clothes and into comfy pajamas. Steve takes a seat on the couch, eyes glancing every direction admiring the decor that's a perfect combo of you and Max. "You can make yourself at home, showers just down the hall, I'm sure you're tired so um couch or, Max's room is just across from mine." You give him a tight lipped smile, setting down a glass of water for him. "Welcome to anything in the fridge."

"Thanks, you should get some rest. Dr's orders and all."

"Mmhmm," you agree, leaving Steve in the living room as you walk hop towards your bedroom, wincing in pain at every step. Once in your room, you make yourself comfy with many pillows propped behind your head and under your ankle. Cold ice pack along the bridge of your nose. You couldn't believe the day you had, exhaustion from the rollercoaster of emotions and pain medication slowly working you into slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

911 What's your emergency?

"She's dead."

Who's dead?

"My mom."

Who killed her?

"I did."

"No…….No….Mom…….wake up!!" You mumble, tears flooding your waterline as you relive the night your mother died. Sweat pools the collar of your shirt as you toss and turn in bed, sheets twisted around your legs from kicking and jerking against your mattress. Heavy sobs wreck your body causing you to flinch and twitch, each jostle further injuring your bandaged ankle and wrapped knees. Loud shrieks echo in your room as you scream out "It's not true, It's not true!"

Forceful pounding at your door shocks you awake, splotches of crimson stain your once white sheets, dried blood crusted around your nostrils. Your eyes attempt to focus in the dark. Heart beating out of your chest you scramble off your bed to the floor, knees to your chest, rocking back and forth, tears freely streaming down your face.

Body buzzing from intense pain and fear you flinch at the sudden touch to your knee. Acting on instinct you push the person in front of you, causing them to fall back from their kneeling position. As you stand to dart from their grasp, you cry out in pain when your injured foot stubs the corner of your bed.

Muscled arms wrap around your waist pulling you into them. Cradled in their arms the soothing words "hey hey Peach you're ok, It's just a nightmare, you're safe," repeat in your ears, voice quiet and smooth. Soft hands run up and down your back, calming your trembling form. Mindlessly your fingers brush their hair at the nape of their neck, the constant action soothing you, but causing goosebumps along their arms and they shudder at the sensation. You buried your face into his shoulder, the scent of vanilla invading your senses.

Steve.

It's different from the smoke and leather you wish it was. Your curious hand strokes at the thatch of hair on his chest, you feel a swift intake of breath as your palm sits between his pecs. His nose nudges at the slope of your neck, lips skimming the delicate skin, the feel of a faint peck just below your ear heats your body.

Your consciousness slips in and out, a solid weight grounding your nightmares. Steve's arms are wrapped around you, still sitting curled up on his lap. You know he's uncomfortable but doesn't make an effort to move. His breath fans across your face, light snores telling you he's fallen asleep. Your tears have dried, your heart no longer racing. The pain in your ankle now intensified from kicking and hitting it against the bed.

You shift to get off the floor and climb back in your soft bed, groaning as you attempt to stand. "Easy, I gotcha." Steve says, voice groggy with sleep. He stands with a wince as he stretches out his limbs before he helps you to the bed. Fluffing your pillows for optimal comfort. He places another pillow under your ankle to elevate the limb, and grabs his sheet from the living room to drape over you.

"Steve, I'm sorry you had to see that." You sniffle, chest tight with sadness and fear. You didn't want anyone to witness those bad nightmares, especially someone you just met. Everything from the hurt that Eddie caused, to the name calling from his bandmates, to unintentionally hurting Sebastian who's nothing more than understanding with you. To the bag colliding with your face. It was all too much for one day.

All you wanted was rest from the awful day you had but of course instead of warmth and sunshine you received clouds and rain. "It's alright, just get some rest." He was standing in the doorway, another comment on the tip of his tongue, but he decided against it. His hand held onto the door knob slowly closing the door behind him. "Hey Steve?" You questioned. He peeked back inside, "hmmm?"

"Could you…maybe lay with me? Until I fall asleep? Please." Your small voice broke him, how could he say no? After the screams he heard and the thrashing about in your bed. "Sure," he said, closing the door behind him. He slid under the covers, the heat of his body already calming you. He faced away from you, scared he crossed a line when he softly kissed your neck.

He did it to bring your focus to something tender instead of terrifying, it worked, to his surprise. He wouldn't try anything else, not unless you wanted of course. Sleep came easy for him, the scent of your pillow a welcomed contrast to the musk of his roommates from back home. It had been too long since he was in bed with a woman, a pretty one at that.

Unfortunately for you the night was still restless. It wasn't the nightmares this time but flashes of your beautiful mother. It was bitter sweet, seeing her in your dreams. Almost like she was just away on vacation, but that wasn't true. You saw it happen, her screams as she took the bullet.

The way she collapsed onto your arms and the bright red blood that seeped from the wound. Her wide and teary eyes as they searched for you, focusing in and out as more blood escaped her body. The shallowness of her breaths as her time came closer and closer. You'll never forget the look on her face when her light dimmed.

You woke up in Steve's arms, one arm wrapped around your back holding you to his chest, while the other lay on your bare thigh. His face mere inches from yours as you laid on top of him, chest to chest, you must have snuggled up to him during the night. Your eyes widened at the closeness, quietly you attempted to roll off him but in his groggy haze he just nuzzled into you more. The hand that was on your thigh traveled up the curve of your behind to rest on your back, giving you a tight squeeze.

You cleared your throat and that's when Steve's eyes shot wide open. Pulling his arms away from you to land flush against the bed. You felt him tense under you, back stiff and prone to the bed. You rolled off of him, pretending you didn't feel him half hard under you.

A swift knock at your bedroom door made you both turn to see who it was, when a pair of bright blue eyes came through from behind the door. Max quickly noticed a man in your bed and closed the door muttering a nervous "sorry, sorry," before she barged in again.

"Steve?" She gaped, pupils wide at seeing her friend in bed with her other friend. "It's not what you think." You exclaimed, almost launching yourself off the bed to explain yourself. Steve stopped you, his arm gripping your elbow. "I'll talk to her," he muttered, not wanting you to further injure yourself.

You nodded, concern written all over your face at what Max would think if you had slept with Steve. She knew all too well the nightmares you had so when Steve told her everything that had happened, she was more than understanding and even apologized for not being home when she said she was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That morning Eddie showed up to Twisted Records, a large bouquet of flowers sent to the front desk addressed to you. He was hoping he could catch you at work and explain himself. He had called you multiple times, but each call was left unanswered, going straight to voicemail. He was soon getting tired of hearing the same message over and over. Even his text messages were being delivered but none had been read. To say he was starting to get worried was an understatement, had you blocked him? At that moment Eddie's phone buzzed, excitement rushed through him as he frantically checked the message.

Big Boy Steve: Just woke up in bed next to the prettiest girl I've ever seen.

Eddie just shook his head, wondering how his friend was already hooking up on his first day in California.

Eddie: Tell me all about it later. Busy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once your lunch time rolled around and you still hadn't shown up, Eddie decided to drive to your dads house. He wasn't sure if your security would buzz him in this time, but it was a gamble he was willing to take.

His shaky finger pressed the intercom, static followed by a gruff "how can I help you?"

"Hi, uh. Is Peach home? She told me to meet her here last night. I don't know if you remember me but I picked her up the other day." He lies, nervously hoping the guard lets him in and that you're home.

"Name?" The guard asks.

Shit.

"Eddie. Eddie Munson."

"I see. Peach is not on the property at this time." He clarifies.

Defeated Eddie drives back home. The longer he waits to see you or talk to you the further he feels from you. The last place he thinks you'll be is your apartment but he knows if he shows up you'd start to ask questions. He didn't want to give up, despite what he had said previously, the second he saw you, he knew you were the one. He had been with enough girls, talked to enough girls to know that you were meant to be together. So he'd try again tomorrow and the next day and the next until he saw you again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hadn't showed up to the office the following day either, the pain medication was so strong that it had you sleeping and drowsy almost all day. Steve was true to his word offering to drive you wherever you needed. First stop was at Austin's house. When you arrived his manager informed you that the crew was already en route to set up the cameras and equipment for the live stream that was to take place the next day.

"Whoa, what the fuck happend to you?" Austin questioned, alarmed at the state you were in. He was well aware of the abusive ways men can be, having been in the rap industry for a while. He's seen his fair share; but he never expected it from you.

"Was just an accident, got hit with a duffle bag." You groaned, hoping to inspect the area that would be visible to the stream. "Shit, must have been a bag full of books." He chuckled, trailing behind you, a cigarette between his fingers to calm his nerves.

Austin was a fairly popular rapper but needed to appeal to a bigger audience and get on the label's good graces again. He had never played rock before and he knew Nirvana fans were loyal to the band and the memory of Kurt, so to say he was on edge was an understatement.

"Looks good Austin, not bad for an idiot." You laughed, playfully smacking him in the gut. He had been your friend for his whole career so little jabs and insults didn't rile him up, had you been someone else though a different story. "Oh, before I forget. This is work Austin, not a damn party so no extra guests."

Austin scoffs, a small smirk gracing his lips. "Whatever you say boss." He turns away from you, walking to the other areas that will be on the live stream. You knew that tone, he was going to do whatever he pleased. He was the talent afterall. "Ugh fine, party after the stream though. I'm serious." Austin just grinned, the wheels in his head already turning with mischief.

There were four areas that would be on camera. One on Austin, he would be in front of the bar which showcased the bottles of various alcohol that were also sponsored. The second camera would be on Travis, his drum kit would be coming in the morning. His set up would be in front of a mini bar with a photo of Nirvana in the background.

The bassist Brian was going to be in an all white room, a bass lined up behind him for a song change. The last area would be for the guitar player Eric, who confirmed he was available that same morning. His set up was in front of a pool table with all his guitars and amps off to the side. Once all four areas were prepped and set up, you left Austin's house and headed back home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve sat on the couch, Ghost played on the T.V. as you sat next to him. "I love this movie," you said. "It was my moms favorite," you found yourself smiling at the memory. She'd always enjoyed the film, a little romance mixed with suspense. "You want me to change it?" Steve suggested, not really sure if the memory was good or bad.

"No, I haven't seen it since–" And Steve understood, let you embrace whatever memory the movie had brought you. He saw joy in your eyes, perhaps a trip back to when times were better. "Here, get comfy." He tapped his thigh, urging you to elevate your ankle on his lap.

The scene of Molly and Sam at the pottery wheel had both of you longing for a similar connection. The sensual way his fingers laced with hers as he kissed at her neck had you clenching your thighs. Mindlessly, Steve began rubbing at your ankle, unable to tear his eyes away from the chemistry of the two actors. His touch was soft, slow circles at first, feeling the smooth skin under his fingertips that gradually went to your calf, then your knees.

Leading to your thighs, he kneaded at the meat, his touch growing feverish. You let out a cute giggle when Steve's hand gripped a little hard between your inner mid thigh. Throwing your head back in laughter you jerked your legs. "Tickles so much." you laughed, wiping at a stray tear that escaped your waterline. Steve smirked, wiggling his fingers at you before he lunged, careful to avoid your healing injuries.

Pinning you under him, his fingers began digging into your thighs, earning loud chuckles from you as you tried with all your strength to wiggle out from under him. You were able to lift your knee out to his side, settling him between your legs. "What's the password?" Steve joked, his wide smile looking down at you while his warm hands pinched your sides.

"Please," you breathed through a smile, bucking up into him trying to get his weight off you.

Steve's eyes widened at the sensual way you sounded and how natural he met your thrust, blood rushing straight to his lower half. He stops pinching and instead smooths his hand up and down the side of your waist, testing the waters. The hem of your top is already exposing your middle from the playful tickling. Hands feeling warm and hungry for attention, each touch growing more and more impatient.

"I really wanna kiss you," he whispers, hands inching higher up your waist.

"So kiss me." You flirt, coyly biting at your bottom lip.

Steve closes the distance, his chapped lips moving against your soft ones, kissing you till your lips turned puffy and red. His hips press into yours, feeling the warmth of your core through his flannel pants, the delicious friction making him moan into your mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers digging into his broad shoulders, bringing him closer to your body.

Steve's hand cups over your breast from beneath your top, pinching and kneading at your peaked nipple. "Knew they'd be perfect." He speaks through a kiss, trailing down the curve of your jaw, nipping and kissing at the sensitive skin. "Can I fuck you?" He asks, eyes filled with lust as he stares at you, lips wet and pouty, hips eager and rolling into you waiting for permission.

"Yes," you nod.

Steve is quick to pull at your jean shorts, popping the button with haste. It's been a good six months since he had any form of intimacy so his fingers clumsily fumble for the zipper. Lifting your butt off the couch, he eagerly starts to pull the denim down your hips.

"Steve, Wait! I don't have any–"

"I can pull out. And I'm clean, promise." He replies, quickly continuing to pull your shorts down, having them slide down your legs.

"Ok. Yeah." The tone in your voice is one of uncertainty.

"So pretty." He breathes, running his hands over the smoothness of your bare legs. His fingers trail from your delicate ankle, up behind your calf to the plush of your outer thigh, curving behind to grab at your ass. He hooks his fingers at the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down the soft curve of your hips.

"Stop."

"Why?!"

Steve shakes his head at his response. Disappointed in his frustration, "I'm sorry, I don't need a reason. We can stop."

"I'm sorry there's just…. someone else."

You wince, not exactly sure if that was the right thing to say. It was the truth. Although the words 'slut' swam around in your head didn't mean you had to make them true.

"Boyfriend?"

You don't answer him. Eddie wasn't your boyfriend, neither was Sebastian. But adding another guy to your roster just felt wrong. Sure, Steve was attractive, golden boy type. The type that made mom and dad proud. But he wasn't your type.

In a rush of embarrassment you quickly grab your shorts and pull them back on. Thankfully nothing went further than kissing, light groping and grinding. Although braless, your top managed to stay on. Crossing your arms over your chest to shield yourself from him, "I'll take an uber tomorrow," you announce. You turn away from him and make steps towards your room. Once in your room you pop a few pain pills, hoping the meds can soothe the shame in your stomach.

~~~

Steve sighs as he hangs his head low between his shoulders. He felt terrible for pushing you and now he made things awkward between you. Cursing under his breath he heads toward the shower, needing the release he so desperately wanted from you. Steve stroked his cock three times before he coated his stomach with his come. Almost happy he didn't get to be inside you and embarrass himself at how fast he would have came.

~~~~~~

Big Boy Steve: Hey, you up?

Eddie: Yeah man, what's up?

Big Boy Steve: Things got hot and heavy with the pretty girl. She felt so good I almost came in my pants like a teenager.

Eddie: lol fucken loser. Did you fuck her tho?

Big Boy Steve: Almost. We made out and then I was grabbin at her fucking tits but when I got her shorts off she said she didn't have a condom, so I said I'd pull out. But then she told me to stop. Such a tease.

Eddie: Damn that sucks. I'm gonna call you Blue Ball Steve now. Lmao.

Eddie: Anyway, I gotta go to bed. I have that Live stream tomorrow. Hope to see my girl again.

Big Boy Steve: Live Stream?

Eddie: Yea, got invited to hang out by Austin. My girl's best friend.

Big Boy Steve: Riiight. You never told me her name.

Eddie: Her name's Peach. Why?

Eddie: Steve?.....

A/N: I know some of you were waiting for the confontation between Eddie and Peach, and I promise It'll happen very very soon.

Taglist:@amira0303 @hideoutside @edsforehead @skank-sinatra13 @kissmejoey @ms1oftheboys @tlclick73 @lady-munson @luv-flor7777 @hereforshmut

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #joe quinn #eddie fanfic #eddie x angst #eddie #eddie angst #Spotify

45 notes · View notes

toomuchracket · 10 months

Note

how would it be matty and reader’s first night with a newborn? I feel like matty would not even sleep or if he hears the baby cry he’ll be the first one to stand up and not letting his missus and letting her sleep, even when she’s okay

convincing matty to A) put the baby down in her little crib to sleep rather than him constantly holding her and then B) actually get some sleep instead of sitting up all night just watching her sleep (although to be fair you also could do that 24/7) is ridiculously difficult. especially the latter - matty loves nothing more than just sitting in the comfy armchair you bought for your bedroom to nurse the baby in, just watching his girls sleep and marvelling at how alike you are already (which excites him to no end because he thinks you're perfect). the first couple of nights post-birth, you're in hospital and both you and baby are just kinda sleeping as and when, and the midwives are in and out constantly checking, so it's chill; when you get home, however, matty is on ALERT the whole first night, despite being exhausted himself. even when he does manage to fall asleep, it's light sleep, light enough that he wakes up at the first little cry she makes, and he's immediately lifting her out of the crib like "oh, my darling, what is it? it's alright, daddy's got you, whatever you need" - she stops crying quickly, but you're sitting up rubbing your eyes like "time for a feed?", and matty's like "nappy change, babe, i can smell it lol. go back to sleep, sweetheart, honestly, you need it more than i do". and you go to protest, but you're so sleepy that you just go "ok babe, if you say so" and pretty much pass out again lol. matty changes the baby, gets her all soothed and back to sleep, before he climbs back into bed and cuddles into you to sleep. the next time she cries, matty's over cooing at her again, but she doesn't stop crying when he holds her this time; you hold out your arms and say "i think our girl is hungry", and matty passes her over and moves to sit next to you while she feeds like "i love you both so much, i really do. still can't believe that we have a baby", and you put your head on his shoulder and say "we love you too, darlin'". and then i think your daughter is so sleepy and tiny that she falls asleep still latched onto you, and you and matty have to try and detach her without waking her up. you manage it, and giggle like "that's definitely your genes, having to be forcibly removed from my tits" - matty's like "oi, don't be crude in front of our daughter like that" but giggles and says "true though", before the two of you kiss your girl goodnight and get her into her crib again, before snuggling in together and getting some much-needed sleep <3

#mads muses #mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #dad!matty #literal d word

65 notes · View notes

kierantierney3 · 10 months

Note

I have a Ødegaard request 🙋🏻‍♀️ hello, could I have a reader who is Martin's girlfriend who plays for Arsenal women’s team and he and some of the lads from the men’s team go to watch the CL semi at the Emirates, the reader is playing and has a nasty tackle put on her and she tears her ACL and Martin goes into protective bf mode through going to the hospital getting the ACL diagnosis and then try to comfort her because she's going to miss the world cup. Thank you so much <3

Masterlist

Hi first i just want to say thank you for your request and thank you so so so much for the amount of information you added. I don’t know too much about women’s football but i do know a fair bit about Arsenal women. If i have got anything wrong please let me know. Accidentally posted this with it written half way through.

———————

The second leg of the champion league semi final, you were away to Wolfsburg in the first leg where it finished 2-2, so you were excited for the second leg.

Which make it more exciting was that you knew your boyfriend Martin was going to be at the game with a couple of his teammates. You had met Martin when he signed on loan from Real Madrid. You would definitely say it was love at first sight.

You had arrived early at the emirates ready for the game. There was a couple arsenal players missing, Beth, Leah and Viv, which was awful, but you had to keep up the sprint.

You were in the tunnel getting ready for kick off, you were both nervous and excited. You had the chance to make it to a final.

When you were waiting to kick off you make sure to look up at your box to see Martin, Bukayo, William Saliba and Aaron, they were Martin teammates but they were also your friends.

You knew in a game like this you always wanted to get the first goal, which you got a goal from Blackstenius.

It was a tough game, you had tackles flying in. You were just trying to stay on your two feet, which happened for a while until just a bit before half time it went 1-1 and to make it worse you got tackled, you felt pain straight in your leg and felt a popping sound, you knew it was bad straight away. You weren’t sure what it was but you knew you were in pain.

You knew the medics were looking over you, but you were to focused on the pain in your leg. You knew some time had past as you were placed on a stretcher and taken off the pitch.

Your mind went black, the next thing you can remember is waking up in the hospital, you looked over to see Martin sitting on the seat next to your bed.

“Hey” you said not coming out well as you had just came out of a sleep and your throat was very dry “Hey how are you feeling?” he asked “Awful, what happened?” you asked “Well you got a bad tackle, would you like to find out what’s wrong with you?” he asked looking worried, you gave him a nod wanting him to continue “Well you had gotten an acl tear, thankfully you don’t have to get anytime of surgery, they said you just need to focus on your recovery” he paused for a second “It means you will be missing the world cup” he said looking guilty.

You did feel your heart break, you couldn’t believe it, you were looking forward to the world cup, you had gotten the call up and were ready to show the world your skills and now you won’t have that chance.

“I’m sorry love” he said coming down to the same level as you were at, he brushed your hair out your face “It’s ok” you said trying not to be too upset, why get worked up over something you couldn’t help, it had happened and you couldn’t do anything.

“Did we win?” you asked after a couple minutes of silence’s “No i’m sorry it needed 3-2 you guys went to extra time and they won it late on” well your night could get worse apparently “Well my night can get worse” you tried to make a joke of it. “I’m sorry my love, are you comfy? Can i get you anything? Water? Food? Blanket?” you could tell he was in panic mode “Can you cuddle me?” you asked hoping the answer was yes, you looked at his face to see his reaction and saw a little smile come on his fave.

You moved over on the bed to give him some space so he could climb in, which of course he did.

You had to stay in a little longer and Martin stayed by your side for the whole time.

yourusername

liked by martinødegaard, leahwilliamsonn and 98,839 others

yourusername Gutted to say that i’m done my acl, it’s hard to take right now but i’m already ready to start my recovery already. Sadly it rules me out the world cup which is heart breaking, it’s hard to take right now and i’m being using the time to focus on my mental health.

I’m part of the girls sadly it wasn’t our time and we will be ready for next year.

Coyg ❤️

Comments limited

martinødegaard Proud of you ❤️

leahwilliamson Join the club 😭 acl girlies

bukayosaka67 Come back is stronger 🙏🏽

#football #arsenal #martin ødegaard imagines #martin ødegaard #arsenal imagines #footballer #footballers #football x reader #football imagine #football imagines #arsenal imagine #martin ødegaard x reader #martin ødegaard imagine

57 notes · View notes