@ddaydreamdelusionss (multi-fandom) & @bruisedharrington (stranger things)
˖⁺‧ 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙨/𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙭𝙭 𝙣𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 ‧⁺˖
follows will come from here if anyone is ever spammed with likes/reblogs xx
friends with b(aby)enefits (eddie munson x fem!reader)
MONTH ONE: Just friends—what a silly concept. After your accident, Eddie's been a full-fledged comedian, ill-conceived jokes left and right... neither of you are laughing though when his 'comedy routine' comes back to bite the both of you in the ass.
cw: 18+!, mature language, smut, pinv sex (unprotected again smh), pet names, vomiting, a lot of pregnancy related topics, potentially dramatized pregnancy symptoms (for the plot obvi, also idk anything about pregnancy), mention of readers period, mention of birth control
an: lots of minor time jumps/cuts but we get some eddie pov!!!
wc: 8.3k+
0 / 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 00
Arms wrapped around your waist from behind, both palms pressed flat to your belly.
“How are my girls doing today?”
Comically loud, heavily puckered kisses scattered over the top of your stomach, catching you by surprise— not at all expecting to be ambushed with facetious affection by your friend.
Eddie thinks he’s a comedian.
With about a month of his poor taste in jokes, he thinks he’s hilarious— and a self-proclaimed prophet because he 'just knows' that it's a baby girl. He's full of shit and you desperately try to not give him the benefit of finding his terrible jokes humorous. To your demise, from time to time, they get you.
Voice in the dark.
୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧ ⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅ ୨୧
The first time he calls you bird, it isn’t planned.
It slips out low and rough over comms, threaded between gunfire and static.
“Got eyes on the east stairwell—two hostiles,” you murmur, voice steady despite the chaos crackling through your headset. Your fingers move fast across the keyboard, pulling feeds from three separate cameras, stitching angles together in your mind like a map only you can see. “Third one lagging behind, limping. Might be wounded.”
A beat.
Then, in your ear—gravel and smoke and something almost amused.
“Christ… you see everything, don’t you, bird?”
The line goes quiet again, but the name sticks.
cold compress - dennis whitaker x f!reader
summary: you and dennis get interrupted while you're...messing around in a call room.
pairings: dennis whitaker x RT!reader (respiratory therapist)
cw/tags: no use of y/n, established relationship, smut (mdni) with afab!reader, fingering, unprotected piv, hickeys, bruising (obviously), biting, typical pitt warnings (depiction of car crash victims and their treatment, involving needle decomps, intubations, medications, compressions, etc etc), inappropriate workplace conduct (fucking in a call room, teasing from your coworkers during an ongoing trauma AND after, sexually suggestive remarks, flirting), dennis' muscles being hot and distracting, you have hair long enough to be tied back in a nondescript way, mentions of you having cleavage and nipples and you’re given visible hickeys. the colour of said hickeys is NOT described so you can picture whatever shade they would be on your skin! other than that no descriptions of you!! swearing. also idk if dennis' chain is a cross but...i made it one in this....so if you would find biting religious paraphernalia offensive then do not read this...
word count: 4k
dennis x RT!reader masterlist
general masterlist
taglist
inspired by this ask from my lovely lotus flower 🪷 anon, @libbyqypu and 2 hands by tate mcrae, particularly the line 'cause I want them all to see, you look good on top of me' because he looks exceptional on top of you your honour
Anonymous
sent a message
Ok I finally have a beefy Joe idea!
Having an argument with him then seeing him asleep on the couch hours later after not talking to each other and reader waking him up him and dragging him to bed and WE spoon HIM and they like apologize and it’s rllllyyy cute
(You don’t need to add argument but I wouldn’t mind if you did 😉 I love a little angst heheheh)
I just have been thinking about holding and spooning him ughhh like he deserves it too
goooooot it got it got it got it 🫱🏻🫲🏼
Wordcount: 1.7K
—
Hold Onto Me
There’ll never be a time where you’ll snap at Joe and won’t immediately feel bad after. You never mean to snap at him, you both know this, but it still happens sometimes. This time it was a question asked at the wrong time at the wrong tone at the wrong volume.
You hadn’t been able to process what he’d asked fast enough, didn’t have the mental capacity after a long day where everything had stacked on top of everything else. It’d been one of those days where going to bed at 9pm felt like the correct life decision to make, but then Joe’d absolutely ruined it by… asking a simple question, how fucking dare he.
You snapped.
Gave him a short, sharp and unfair response that made him pause.
“Okay,” he’d said, not upset or hurt, but a little more quiet and careful as he moved forward. “I’ll give you a minute.”
He’d left you alone, stepped away without making it a huge thing or asking anything else from you. It’s what you needed in the moment, but now it’s nearly midnight, and you’re still in bed on your own.
sent a message
jade jade jade jade!! i am obsessed with beyond the sea oh my goodness. i am just dying to know how she tells steve about home, maybe not specifics, but enough to weave a picture. is it lonely? cold? warm? far? close? green? open?
oh i’m just dying for babygirl to learn more adjectives
beyond the sea au | fem, 1.9k
There are five oceans on Earth, filled with strange creatures. Steve shows them to you from the book he’s found. He’s poured over it in the last few days, head bent down, occasionally rubbing at the side of his head with a closed fist. What he’s trying to learn from them is a mystery —it’s not as though he’ll find you or anyone like you in the pages. No, there are no photographs of mermaids, sirens or selkies.
You can’t read, so you spend the quieter hours curled at the bottom of the pool looking up at the sun, or resting near the shallows with your face and torso on the inleading steps, breathing deep breaths. Dozing.
Occasionally, you wake up and he’s there beside you, with or without the book. Your strange human. Your saviour. He’s handsomer than most of them, with a straight nose, a nice jaw, and brown eyes unlike anything you or your family have. His are black in the very centres and ringed by brown, but that brown doesn’t glow, nor tine off at random. It’s one strong circle, but within? You tip your head to the side to stare at him without facing him head on. His irises are vast. Like a passed urchin shell, they’re filled with a thousand lines going outward, a brown with hints of ochre-green, a colour you’d never seen before in someone’s face.
They’re beautiful. They suit him wholeheartedly.
He has these little dots all over, as natural to him as your facial scales. You flush remembering how you’d tried to flick them off of him in those first days, worried he’d been afflicted by sea lice, and mortified that you could’ve brought them with you unknowingly from the great lake, how could you not have noticed them? But Steve didn’t have lice, he has moles.
A new word, like ‘book’. Steve shows you photographs, which you’d known of vaguely, in books, which you were less familiar with.
Occasionally, you might’ve spotted a human with one in hand, but it’s not like you know what half of their weird contraptions are nor what they do. Their strange split tails were daunting enough. He introduces words in his language with help, and they’re admittedly far easier to remember when you have your own words to fall back on. He confuses you often, you know you confuse him worse, using words in wrong orders and making up things that feel right but sound odd.
sent a message
May I request walsh x reader?💘 over the moon for anything you're in the mood for, maybe even a follow up to "ouch"? Bonus points for the pitt crew appearing and emery being mean (can you tell I'm still hung up on that fic) have an amazing dayyy x
Mine
Emery Walsh x girlfriend!reader
Summary: months after your little trip to PTMC, a familiar face strolls into your work and wreaks havoc on your relationship. And the worst part? You don’t even know it’s happening.
CW: fluff, angst/comfort, established relationship, one-sided Jack Abbot x reader, flirting from a man, Jack is the catalyst but there is no bashing here, completely oblivious!reader, jealous!Emery, insecure!Emery, protective!Emery, very minorly suggestive at one point but not explicit, implied bisexual!reader (in reference to a past with men).
WC: 6.6k
Technically a part 2 to Ouch! but can be read separately without too much confusion.
Pink Flags
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Warnings: smut, unplanned pregnancy, angst
Summary: After a night of passion, you face Simon with the consequences, however, his reaction is far worse than you could have ever imagined.
You were always good at what you were doing.
Comically good. The way to take down terrorists was like a dance. A melody you create by murdering them.
What you weren't so good at were feelings. Especially your own.
No matter how tangled up you got with them, you always found a way out.
You promised you won't become attached to anyone. Attachments are dangerous.
But you did find yourself entangled with your LT.
Which wasn't good.
𝗯𝗲𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗮
Steve finds a girl in his pool. A very wet, very bloody, and very scaly girl. fem, 4k.
mermaid!au. cw for non-sexual nudity and moderate injury. reader is same age as steve / in early twenties. requested here
｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡
Steve doesn’t like looking at the pool for obvious reasons, but there’s a… sound, emanating. The back yard is fenced in but empty, so sounds down there tend to echo, and Steve’s bedroom looks down on it all, so he hears the weeping from bed and isn’t sure if he can bring himself to look.
That feeling lasts for longer than he’d ever admit to, but he worries that there’s somebody down there hurting and that he’s letting that happen. He gets out of bed in nothing but sweats and a pair of socks to peer through the slit gap in his curtains. Fog rolls over the pool, concrete wet and dark, rain still spatting lightly against the window as Storm Melly says goodbye. Steve cracks his window wider, scanning the pool like they taught him in lifeguard training. Up and down, side to side.
He can’t see anything out of the ordinary, but he can hear the crying. It’s— it’s so sad, so suddenly humanising that he races out of his room and down the stairs, through the foyer and the kitchen to the back door. He struggles with the lock, nearly takes the thing off its hinges as he gets it open, but catches it before it can slam into the exterior wall.
Shit, the crying. It’s a woman sobbing, all guttural and long and painful, before it cuts out like a gasp, shuttered, shattered, like it’s too painful to go on.
“I’m here!” he says. “Hello? I’m here, where are you? I’ll– I can help you! I can– Hello?”
A weak murmur of sound.
Steve sets out into the yard. His socks are soaked through in five steps, shoulders kissed by tropical rain, oddly cold, the surface of the pool wavering as the rain gives a startling lash, a last goodbye as it suddenly stops. It dribbles down the gutters and off the roof and the patio umbrella, the soggy rustle of leaves from the nearby woods almost smothering another pained whimper.
“Hello?” he asks again, lowering his voice. “I’m here. Just tell me where you are and I can help.” Steve softens his tone. “I know first aid!”
A sluicing of water. A shape emerging from the surface of the pool.
Steve flinches so hard that the girl recedes. The woman. Your halfway across the pool before he can stop you.
“Oh my god!” he says. “Holy shit, are you okay?” Steve scrambles to the edge of the pool. There, in the water, red blood shimmers and blooms a paler orange. The source of it is dark, like black against your belly. “I’ll get you out!” he says, grabbing the rungs of the ladder and half jumping, half climbing into the water before he can think better of things.
Anonymous
sent a message
thinking... flashing your tits at steve... in an argument... and him completely going blank... MEOW BARK i fear i need a little oneshot on that if possible - ⭐️
welcome back menace!reader you’ve been missed <3 also this is basically what i’m calling uhhhh cracksmut where it’s not saucy but it sorta is tehe MDNI this entire blog is 18+
You don’t want to have to do this, but he’s giving you no choice.
Steve, you’ll admit, is not often unreasonable. He’s a sweetheart — he’s your sweetheart — and he usually only likes to disagree with you when it’s on trivial matters such as who loves who more (an unwon battle on both sides).
But tonight, he’s tired. He’s had a long shift. He’s hungry.
And downright being unreasonable!
“I’m not budging on this,” Steve says firmly, his arms crossed tight across his chest. He narrows his eyes at you. “So don’t even think about batting those eyelashes at me missy.”
“Steve,” you lament with a whine.
You’ve been going back and forth for a couple of minutes now, basically going in circles. No decision has been made and you’ve been discussing this so long, now you’re hungry too.
The two of you stand in the kitchen, at opposite sides, like a gunslinger stand off. Neither of you seem like you’re gonna cave so, like you said, he’s giving you no choice.
“I’m serious.”
“I’m serious too!”
“Not as serious as I am!” Steve protests.
You shake your head and move to begin shifting your hands beneath your shirt—he’s really pushing it tonight. You haven’t had to pull this move on him in quite some time.
Steve clocks on quickly, right as you hook your thumbs beneath the wire of your bra.
“Oh, no you don’t—”
He’s too late. He takes one aborted step forward then judders to a halt as you lift the fabric and flash him with a gleeful grin.
Steve’s has several reactions at once. His eyes move a mile a minute, staring wide-eyed at your tits, then at the ceiling, then back down. His face glows warmer and warmer. His throat bobs in a heavy swallow and his hands clench into fists at his sides.
“I— hey- you— no-” He smothers the final word behind his hands as he buries his face in them.
But it’s only for a moment, before his finger shifts to the side, as if betraying himself, and revealing a peek to him.
Steve groans and you can feel his will breaking. Almost giving in.
You give him merit for holding out, but you have one final trick up your sleeve. You rise up on your heels and bounce back down.
Steve’s hands, still on his face, slide a little lower and now he’s not even pretending to not stare. His pupils look larger. He swallows heavily again and groans roughly— in appreciation or annoyance you’re not sure.
His head tilts back, as if that will restrain him for drinking in perhaps his favourite sight. You know Steve loves your boobs, as he has told you many times. You see him sink his teeth into his bottom lip, as if trying to contain himself.
He sneaks another glance. For good measure, you give another bounce.
Steve cracks.
“Fine!” He says, flinging his hands from his face out. “Fine, fine! You win! We can have Chinese food tonight!”
“Yay!” You drop your shirt and bra back into play and spring forward, tackling Steve in a hug. Despite his poutiness, he still catches you and cradles you closer.
“That is so unfair, by the way.” He mumbles into your hair.
“Mhm. Can you order it too, please? You know I hate talking on the phone.”
Steve pulls back and peers down at you incredulously. “Oh, so you get to pick and I have to make the phone call? You’re unbelievable.”
He says it all while extracting you from his arms and wandering towards the corded phone. You giggle and blow him a kiss.
Steve waves it off, picking up the phone. “Yeah, yeah. You know if I did that to you, I’d be called a pervert for indecent exposure but when you…”
hold my girl - j. abbot
summary: jack jumped at the chance to take howard to presby. the reason? he missed his wife. (wc: 2.3k)
warnings: f!attending!reader, swearing, mentions of GSWs/active fire (incl. past military experience), medical inaccuracies etc.; the phrase 'i don't wanna die'
𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 — 𝐣.𝐚.
summary: the inside of your mind has always been an anxious place. you once thought no one could understand exactly how you feel. but when you start working the night shift, your attending makes it look easy.
pairing: anxious, intern!reader x jack abbot
word count: 24.1k
warnings/tags: anxious/night shift/intern reader, attending jack, descriptions of ptsd/anxiety from pittfest, as much medical jargon/scenarios as i could fit in, power imbalance relationship (and the associated guilt!), yellow mug mentions galore! descriptions of being creeped out by an uncomfortable patient, as much slowburn as i could try, smut - oral (f receiving), cute first time with jack things. unprotected sex, jack likes overstimulating you, lots of gratuitous praise kink, they really are a couple of idiots in love. one (1) emma x joy mention because i adore them. robby would not behave like this towards anxious reader, but for the sake of fiction, i suppose...
based off of the night shift reader blurbs
thank you to my amazing beta reader @attheheartofmylove without whom i'm certain this would have never been finished ♡
though you didn’t really understand it at first, you now know clearly, that the attendings have their own favorites.
My Old Guy | J Abbot
summary: jack can face a lot but your four year old is something that scares him.
—
The ER is chaos.
The slow, grinding kind.
Too many patients. Too few beds. Everyone tired.
You have been on your feet for almost twelve hours when Dana finally corners you at the nurses’ station.
“You’re not leaving any time soon, are you?”
You sigh, rubbing your forehead.
“No.”
Dana nods knowingly.
“Thought so.”
Anonymous
sent a message
wholesome request - you and Joe can’t stop kissing, just lots of kisses
ok so i read this and then my mind did something else to it and so… it’s not exactly this, but it also isn’t not…. am i making sense? im not. its fine. i wrote something with kisses in. enjoy!
Wordcount: 2.8K
—
Mint Condition
You’re on the sofa together, half-watching something neither of you actually chose with any real intention. The TV’s more on because the room feels a bit better with background noise. Joe’s got work in his lap, and you’re half in your phone whilst one of those coming-of-age films that clearly wants to be taken seriously, isn’t getting taken seriously by either of you. It’s all soft lighting and long pauses, teenagers staring at each other like every glance is life-altering.
Joe is slouched beside you, one leg stretched out, the other tucked underneath him, his attention drifting in and out in that way it does when he’s not fully invested but also not quite ready to turn it off. His fingers play with the edges of paper pages, and every now and then he reacts a fraction too late to what’s happening on TV, like he’s catching up to the scene rather than following it.
There’s a moment where someone confesses their feelings in the middle of a hallway, awkward and overly intense, and you feel yourself reacting before you can stop it, a small shift in your posture, a quiet sound under your breath.
Joe glances at you. “What?”
You keep your eyes on the screen for a second longer before answering. “Just thinking.”
“Mm.” Joe huffs a breath, “That’s never good, is it?”
You ignore him, but the thought doesn’t go away. It lingers, pulling your attention away from the film and toward him instead.
“Wondering what you were you like in school…” you ponder, still looking forward like you’re not really talking about him.
He snorts softly, immediate and dismissive, eyes on his work still. “Normal.”
You turn your head slowly to look at him. “Normal.”
“Yea.”
“Just normal?”
“Yep.”
loverboy
fandom: The Pitt
pairing: Dennis Whitaker x f!reader
content: dennis and reader are married, she/her pronouns for reader, pet names (sweetheart, baby), dubious medical talk, cursing, reader took the Whitaker surname, no use of y/n, implied bisexual reader (bc im in love with dana)
word count: 5.3 k
summary: four times Dennis’ coworkers wanted to meet his wife and the one time they did
notes: as a midwestern girlie myself, i would 100% bake for these people. like, they deserve it and food is THE love language of the midwest. ALSO yes i know that it should be dennis’s but i fucking hate the way that looks so you can read dennis’ instead (i am allowed to do this as a person whose name ends with an s)
line dividers from @hyuneskkami
𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍
pairing: bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.4k words
summary: in which steve’s girlfriend breaks up with him because of your and his friendship
warnings: post-season 4 but pre-season 5, explicit language, alcohol consumption (drunk!reader, drunk!steve, and brief drunk!robin appearance)
author’s note: i had this unfinished since december and i'm so glad that i was finally able to finish it<333 enjoy!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It seemed like Steve’s living room couch was going to be where you found sleep for the night. It was a dangerously comfortable couch, and the random sitcom playing on the TV was kind of the perfect lullaby.
Your eyes had only been shut for a matter of moments before you heard the sound of the front door opening and then closing; it wasn’t loud enough to be considered a slam, but loud enough to wake you from your half-asleep state.
You didn’t move from your comfortable position on the couch, though. “Steve, I really hope that’s you coming in right now and not a murderer because I’m so not prepared for a murderer.”