elordilover

[elordilover]

Goldfish

Summary: Matt has a chronic illness that the nurses at his local clinic are all too familiar with. The new nurse in town hasn't had a chance to meet him yet, but what happens when she does?

Pairing: Matt x nursefem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of needles and blood, chronic illness, use of medical steroids, flirty nurse!reader (this is all fiction!), Matt is 20/reader is 23, Matt has a service dog!!

Word Count: Just over 2k

A/N: This is lowkey inspired by the experience I had a few days ago with a flirty nurse while I was in the ER (I'm still thinking about him--had me giggling n kicking my feet n shit like I was in a rom com [this is definitely a story time]). ANYWAY, Matt has PFAPA (my chronic illness!) here. It's usually a childhood thing, but some rare cases like myself don't grow out of it. You can read more about it here, if you'd like. Enjoy!!

Matt Sturniolo is all too familiar with his local pediatric emergency room. In fact, he’s been there so many times that the nurses have started to treat him as less of a patient, and more of a friend. “Hey Matt!”, “How’s YouTube going, Matt?”, “I remember you!”,  “I saw you last time!”, and the list went on. Some might ask why he still went there at almost 21, but when you had a chronic illness, it was best to see the people who had been caring for you for years if you could. These nurses had been caring for him at least once a month, ever since he was 12, and were usually quite skilled in how to manage the brunette’s comfort. 

Matt had PFAPA, which left him with high fevers and extremely sore, almost strep like sore throats every month. It was a miserable thing to live, and it really impacted his happiness, especially on days like today when he was having one of the worst flare ups he’d had in a long time and both Nick and Chris were unable to come along with him to the doctor. Luckily for Matt, he had his service dog, Emily, with him, but he still longed for a human companion as well. While some people wondered why he ‘needed’ a service dog, Matt’s disability was invisible. Emily would let him know when his flare ups were starting as well as laying on him to soothe his body aches and chills and helping with his anxiety at doctor visits. 

The nurse tech took him into the back rather quickly, running their usual tests of strep, the flu, and COVID. About 98% of the time, they would all come back negative, but the hospital staff liked to do all they could to make Matt more comfortable. Sure enough, the nurse practitioner stepped in about 30 minutes later, a sad look on her face. 

“How are you feeling, Matt?”

Matt shrugged, grimacing as his throat ached when he swallowed. “‘M not great.” he murmured, petting his pup’s head softly as the anxiety welled in his chest. 

“Well, everything came back negative,” she told, a sad look on her face. “We can test you for mono, though. You have a lot of the symptoms for that. That one is a blood test. We’re also going to give you an IV since you’re dehydrated.”

That sentence alone made him want to cry. Despite the tattoos and piercings he had, Matt hated medical needles. They hurt and they freaked him out. Sensing his anxiety, Emily scooted closer to Matt, whining softly and butting his leg with her head. Matt pet the dog’s head softly, steadying himself to get his breath. “Okay…” he breathed, steadying himself. 

The nurse practitioner patted his leg gently, hurrying out of the room to attend to her other patients. Matt began to panic, his breathing rapidly increasing as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted them to tell him what was wrong so he could get some meds, go home, and sleep. Patting the bed he was laying on gently, Emily hopped up, curling into Matt’s side. The pooch rested her head on her owner’s chest, subconsciously working to slow the brunette’s heart rate. 

A few minutes later, another nurse and a lab tech stepped into the small room he was in, holding a tray full of supplies. Matt squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sight, already dreading the feeling of getting blood drawn. Both healthcare workers were very kind, of course, whispering soft nothings to him as they patted his leg and prepared to draw his blood. They promised him that the procedure would be quick and easy, but those words never mixed well with a chronic illness. 

“Your vein rolled because you’re dehydrated. We’re going to have to draw from your other arm.” the lab tech informed him.

“O…kay.” Matt whispered shakily, trying to get his breath and the feeling in his hand back. 

The brunette knew that it was okay to cry, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. He was a grown man, laying here in a kid’s hospital room, trying not to cry while they tried to draw his blood again in his right arm. Unfortunately for Matt, the dehydration he was experiencing from his extremely sore throat caused his vein to roll again.

“Oh sweetheart,” the nurse said sympathetically, patting his leg. “We’re going to give you a minute, okay? Let’s get some water and Gatorade in you before we try again.”

Matt just nodded as he was passed a mini water bottle and a cherry Gatorade. He was hearing their words, but honestly, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was going to be poked and prodded again, and he didn’t like it. Emily snuggled into his side, whining softly and brushing her sandpaper tongue against her owner’s arm, trying desperately to get Matt to feel better. 

“Alright, honey,” the sweet, older nurse stepped into Matt’s room again, holding a fresh tub of supplies to draw his blood. “Let’s try it in your left hand, okay?”

Because chronic illness never made things easy, the third time was still a failure, leaving Matt with an already bruising hand and tears pricking his eyes. Before he knew it, he was being shoved a packet of goldfish crackers, a popsicle, and more water, being informed that he had to eat before they could try again. The snacks felt like swallowing shrapnel, making the boy cringe every time he had to swallow. 

“Hello, oldest patient of the day!” You cheered, practically walking into Matt’s room on a cloud of glitter. 

Matt jumped in shock, petting his dog’s head to calm his racing heart. “...hi…” he mumbled. 

“They called me in for backup,” You explained, a smile on your face. You absolutely loved nursing, and every day at your job truly felt like a gift. You’d graduated from nursing school last year at the top of your class and had been working in the pediatric emergency room ever since. It wasn’t every day that you had a patient who was 20, but you didn’t mind. “We’re getting this blood draw this time so you can get the fuck out of here,” You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind if I curse.”

For the first time all day, a small giggled made its way out of Matt’s mouth. “No, I’m okay.”

“I see you have a buddy,” You commented. “That’s nice.”

“She helps my…anxiety.” Matt seemingly chose his words carefully, but they still made you smile. It was clear that the boy had a bond with his pup. 

“I’m gonna look at your tonsils first so we can get you some medicine to help you swallow and then we’ll draw your blood, okay?” You asked, wanting to make sure your patient was comfortable with everything. 

At the mention of a blood draw, Matt’s blue eyes widened with anxiety, his body becoming visibly tense. You had become in tune with this, sliding on a pair of pink latex gloves and patting the soft material of the pajama pants on his knee. 

“Hey, look at me,” You murmured softly, waiting for his response. Once Matt had looked at you, you chugged on. “We’re just chilling, okay? I’m not going to do anything yet.”

Matt nodded, letting out an anxious breath he’d been holding. “Okay.” he whispered. 

You grabbed the flashlight to look in his throat off the wall. “Alright, I’m pretty sure you know the drill,” You chuckled. “Open and say ‘ahhh!’...oh yeah, you’ve got an icky throat. That looks like it hurts. Although…did you have a blue popsicle? You’ve got blue tonsils. It’s rather endearing.”

Matt flushed, his ears going red as he nodded. You smiled softly, throwing away the cap and hanging the flashlight back on the wall. You gave the boy the steroidal liquid the nurse practitioner had drawn up for him to ease the swelling in his throat, a blush creeping onto your face as Matt scrunched his eyes up at the disgusting taste, quite literally making grabby hands for his Gatorade. 

“Fuck, that’s gross.” he whined. 

“At least you got it over with!” You hummed cheerfully, in a small aim to make him feel better. “Unfortunately, it’s time for the bad part, but we can make it a little less shitty if you want? Maybe you could play me some music? Something you like, okay?” 

Matt fiddled with his phone for a moment before landing on Dominic Fike’s latest release. You smiled at the lyrics, releasing this was one of your favorite songs at the moment. You prepped the materials needed to finally get Matt’s blood drawn for the mono test, patting his knee gently in an effort to calm his trembling frame as he rubbed his pup’s head. 

“Hey, can I tell you something?” You whispered shyly, setting him up for the procedure. “You’ve got goldfish in your teeth–it’s really cute.” You giggled, your own cheeks becoming red. 

The brunette whined, breathing deeply as you began to draw his blood. “That’s embarrassing.” he grunted. 

A few deep breaths and small, sad noises later, you had finally gotten the sample needed. “We got it!” You told Matt excitedly, placing a Barney band aid across the site. “All done!”

You bustled around the room, making sure Matt was comfortable, throwing away your supplies, and making notes on your clipboard. You helped the boy drink water and got him (and Emily) a blanket, before taking his samples down to the lab to get checked out. By the time everything was said and done, an hour had passed and Matt was asleep against the small bed when you knocked on his door. 

“Hey sleepyhead,” You giggled, stepping into the room. “Nice nap?” Matt fisted his eyes, nodding as you went over his discharge instructions. You always hated releasing patients with no explanations or answers as to why they felt so bad, but in cases like Matt’s, that wasn’t always possible. Your best bet was to make him as comfortable as possible here. “Do you have any questions?”

The brunette shook his head, finally able to speak now that the steroids were beginning to work their magic on his throat. “No, but thank you. You’ve been the best nurse I’ve had all day…maybe even ever.”

You blushed at the compliment, helping the boy stand since you knew he was already exhausted, dehydrated, and lightheaded from having his blood drawn. “Do you need help getting to your car? I actually just got off.” You murmured shyly, glancing at the clock on the wall. 

Despite Matt’s steadiness on his feet and his grip on Emily’s leash, the blue-eyed boy nodded all the same, a quietly flustered look crossing his face. You smiled yourself, maneuvering Matt out to his car with a firm, yet gentle hand on his lower back. Thankfully, the waiting room had quieted down quite a bit now that it was nearing the evening, so no one questioned or pulled you away from walking Matt out. It was a slow trek with your patient being a bit unsteady on his feet, but you didn’t mind. Matt’s presence made you happy in an odd sort of way; you hated that he wasn’t well and that this would continue to happen for him, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about seeing him again. 

“I um…I hope this isn’t weird, but I would really like to see you again. Maybe another time? When you’re not in pain?” You coughed and chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. 

He smiled as he slid into the driver’s seat, rubbing his aching head that was seemingly getting better just by being around you. “I’d like that,” he offered. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Matt didn’t end up leaving his trip to the hospital with many answers beside the usual ‘It’s your chronic illness’, but what he did end up leaving with was your phone number scribbled onto a pink sticky note that he had been given in the parking lot. 

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

[elordilover]

if you kick every bi girl with social anxiety out of youtube then WHO is going to be watching your videos MATT STURNIOLO???

[elordilover]

my husband ☝🏻

[elordilover]

I'm crying, I'm wet, I'm wrecked, I'm horny, I'm in love. I hate you, Matthew

#500 days of summer x matt was something i didn’t know i needed

[elordilover]

Nooks And Crannies - M. Sturniolo

a series

part one

Summary : You always seem to be somewhere in the bookstore Matt works at, never buying anything, just reading, and while Matt is technically not supposed to talk to customers for so long while he's on the clock, he can't help himself.

Warnings : none yet!

Word Count : 1048

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : a series from me!! what a shock!! i hope i can actually keep this going <3 i'm such a sucker for soft matt, so here is bookworm matt !

Matt sighed as he opened the door to The Ivy, but it wasn’t a sigh of dread.

It was one of relief, one of anxiety rolling off of his shoulders. He felt so lucky to have a job that he genuinely enjoyed and paid him enough to be happy and comfortable. His work really was like a second home for him. It was a smaller, yet gorgeous, bookstore combined with a coffee shop, and all of it really had a home owned feel, because they weren’t part of any corporate line. They paid better than the corporate line did, and because they were on a popular street downtown, they brought in a great amount of profit compared to some other smaller stores.

Matt was the type of person to cover anyone’s shift because he genuinely would love to be at the bookshop. The money was just a bonus for him. Matt was an organizer, someone who was neat and tidy, and the bookshop gave him the room to do that, and combine it with one of his favorite interests, reading. He had been working this job for almost three years, having started it as his full time job just after he had graduated from high school, and he couldn’t see himself ever wanting to leave. He and his brothers had a comfortable home with three combined incomes, and he was truly happy.

As he clocked in, he smiled at the customer patiently waiting to check out books, waving them over to his register. Checkout wasn’t his favorite, he preferred to be working between the aisles of books, but he did still enjoy it. He didn’t think that there was a single part of his job that he actively disliked, because it was very rare that he dealt with someone who didn’t want to be in there. That was one of his favorite things about working in the store that he did, because it was a form of retail, but it wasn’t really retail. Nobody was in there because they had to be, besides the workers. They were all in there because they wanted to be, and because of that, they were generally much nicer to the employees. 

Matt easily helped the person buy their books, complimenting the choices they’d made. Matt had read just about all of the best sellers in the shop, and continued to pick up the new books as they came in. He always struck up a conversation with everyone he checked out, regardless of how tired he was, or if he was having a bad day. He found himself really enjoying getting to share thoughts on his favorite books, give recommendations, and still get to enjoy the benefits of being paid for it. Sometimes customers would come back while he was working, and they would get to talk about their favorite moments of books that they had both read. 

Once the line behind the checkout had cleared out, many conversations later, many book recommendations given out, and happy customers leaving, Matt logged out of the register, letting a coworker take over to train someone new, and he went to go help unload more books. That was his favorite part, because he got to read the back of all of the books, see which ones interested him, and then because he was the one putting them on the shelves, he knew exactly where they were and could go buy them while he was off the clock. He had a rule. He never bought new books the day that they were delivered, no matter how much he really wanted to. Sometimes they could sell out very quickly, but he always waited at least one day before buying them, so that someone who didn’t work there and wasn’t there all the time like he was could get a chance at getting them.

The Ivy was a gorgeous little store, and it really felt like a cozy little oasis in the middle of a busy downtown area. He loved all of the small, almost hidden, spots in the store, near windows in the back. There was one space that was hidden by a sliding bookshelf, and there was a handle there, but Matt had never seen anyone figure it out. They often pulled on it instead of sliding it, and when it didn’t move, they assumed that it was simply decorative. Matt always stayed there during his break, as the bookshelves surrounding that little nook were double-sided, and he had more books to pick up and read. 

The Ivy drew people in, and once you sat in one of the comfortable seats by the window, you’d lose track of time, but it wouldn’t matter anyways, because you’d never want to leave. And no, Matt was definitely not speaking from experience. As much as Matt loved to help people find things that they would enjoy, stocking shelves really gave him some quiet time to just focus on his work and enjoy his surroundings. Matt was a people watcher. While he was stocking shelves, people simply ignored his presence. He didn’t take this personally, people often overlook the employees. This worked very well for him, as he got to observe people.

He saw all kinds of people. He saw couples who came in and bought books for each other, people who came in with headphones and a coffee and walked up and down the aisles, reading the backs of book after book, the little kids who came in and pored over the stickers and the coloring books, and the older people who flip through the magazines and never actually buy anything, but they walked out with a smile on their face. There were the regulars at the coffee shop that Matt saw walk through the bookstore portion, and the people who hung out over there as well. There weren’t a lot of regulars, but Matt tried his best to take notice of every person who came into the store. 

It wasn’t until Matt went to take his break that he realized he had missed someone, which wouldn’t be a shock to him normally, as the place was usually quite busy. But this time, as he slid the bookshelf to the side, there was someone already sitting in his usual chair.

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#this is gonna be good i can already tell #matt sturniolo x reader

[elordilover]

are u taking requests rn??

yes i am! i still have a couple in my inbox to work on, i’ve been busy with school

[elordilover]

oops

summary: the blind, deaf, and mute baking challenge is put on pause when you accidentally injure yourself.

word count: 883

warnings: cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of injury, mentions of knives, mentions of hospital visit, use of y/n, she/her pronouns, only proofread twice, lowercase intentional.

an; thank you guys so much for the love on my last two posts! please send in requests, i would love to hear what ideas you guys have.

||navigation||

driving to the emergency room instead of filming a vlog with the triplets was not how you imagined your night going. everything was perfectly fine when you started filming, you and nick weren’t allowed to hear, matt wasn’t allowed to see, and chris wasn’t allowed to speak. all was well, until you needed to cut open the bag of cake mix for the boys to use.

before the chaos..

“okay we need to get a bowl” you loudly explain the first step to the boys, unaware of your volume. chris grabs your shoulders and ushers you to lower your voice, to which you attempt.

“matt don’t move, i’ll get it” you hastily run over to matt before he can get to the cabinet containing the glass bowls.

“n/n hush, we can hear you” matt laughs standing back as you get the bowl yourself.

“what??” again, as loud as you can be without physically yelling.

“he means shut the fuck up” nick shouts grabbing your head, forcing you to look at him. you laugh, almost falling over in the process. chris grabs the box, reading the instructions to hopefully get the actual baking started, when you grab the knife needed to cut open the bag of cake mix.

“here let me cut it open” you grab the bag from chris, taking it and the knife to the trashcan so you don’t make a mess. holding the bag in one hand, you bring the knife to the side you were holding, your first mistake. slicing the plastic open, you immediately are hit with a stinging pain in your finger.

“oh fuck” you drop the bag onto the counter, taking your headphones off.

“guys i cut my finger open, holy shit” you begin to panic, holding the wound on your finger as blood drips at a rapid pace down your hands, onto the floor.

“what?” matt rips off the blindfold that was once over his eyes. chris and matt rush to you, leaving a confused nick, still jamming out to his music.

“what happened” nick shouts, now also rushing over to your aid.

“ i was trying to cut open the bag for chris and i cut my finger” you try to explain as calmly as possible, failing as a tear makes its way down your face.

“let me see it” matt grabs your hand, but you jerk back instinctively.

“y/n i have to see how bad it is, i need to know if you need to go to the hospital” anxiety on high, matt snaps at you, grabbing your hand once more. nick places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“okay, this is going to need stitches, let’s go. chris turn off the camera, and get in the car” matt rushes you all to the car, grabbing paper towels on the way out to stop the bleeding.

now all three of you sit in the car, you in the passenger seat so that matt can see you, while chris and nick are in the back seat, leaning forward to make sure you’re alright.

“did i ever tell you guys i hate blood” you laugh tearfully, squeezing the napkins over your finger.

“y/n you worked at a hospital when you were younger, how do you hate blood?” chris leans over your shoulder, watching your bleeding hand cautiously.

“an ANIMAL hospital, chris, it’s completely different” you correct him, closing your eyes to stop yourself from thinking about your injury.

“we’re almost there, as long as i don’t get pulled over you’ll be fine” matt grabs a few paper towels from his lap, urging you to change out the ones that are around your finger.

“matt do not get pulled over for this, im fine. stop speeding” you hand the paper towels to nick and shove your hand into his lap.

“i don’t want to do it, i’ll throw up”

rolling his eyes, nick begins to unwrap the paper towels from your index finger, revealing the severity of your injury, or lack there of.

“it’s not too terrible, it’s deep but not long. you should only need a few stitches” nick finishes wrapping your finger, and rubs your arm to comfort you.

arriving at the emergency room, you are immediately seen, as you’re actively bleeding, and the doctor tells you and the boys that you got lucky. the cut will only need to be glued shut, and bandaged.

finishing your wound, the doctor tells you to stay away from knives and to be more careful.

“how did you cut yourself, you weren’t even blindfolded?” matt laces his fingers with yours, the hand that you didn’t cut, of course, and leads you to the car.

“very carefully”

“well now we know, don’t trust y/n with knives, or sharpe objects, or around blood, even though she worked at an ‘ANIMAL’ hospital” chris mocks your emphasis on the word animal, lightly shoving you towards the car.

“HEY! she’s clumsy she could have tripped over that branch and DIED” nick dramatically places an arm out to stop you from ‘falling’.

“i’ll never live this down will i?” you roll your eyes, stepping aside so matt can open your car door.

“nope” matt smiles, making sure you’re fully in the car before shutting the door.

|| likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated :)

🏷️ @bananabread-nana ||

#i love this! #matt sturniolo x reader

[elordilover]

[elordilover]

YAYAYAYAY SHELTON!!!!

#ben shelton #tennis

[elordilover]

the ncaa women’s final and ben’s first clay court final being at the exact same time is a bisexual hate crime

[elordilover]

Oh my god!!!

[elordilover]

My worlds are COLLIDING 🥹

Via peteys @ nils’ insta (9.19.23)

#HOW HAVE I NOT SEEN THIS #OMG

[elordilover]

it has come to my attention that ben shelton is 6'4????? SIX FOUR???? for some reason he's always been like 5'10 in my mind thats wild, anyways he's 1000% a hug/cuddle hog doesn't matter what you're doing he will weasel his whole large self into whatever you're doing just to hold you (lap dog energy for someone who's like a foot and some taller than me lmao)

This man is a solid foot taller than me and this exact crosses my mind at least four times a day. The hugs that he can give are insane. The way that it doesn't matter how tall you are, his entire body will find a way to engulf you.

I'm currently in the middle of exams, so I can't help but imagine him pulling you onto the couch and letting you use his lap as a desk. his hands will be on your shoulders or waist or thigh as you read through your notes or type on your computer.

he will your personal weighted blanket at all times

#IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAY #HOW IN THE WORLD IS HE SIX FOUR #PLEASE MARRY ME #HAHAHHSHS #ben shelton

[elordilover]

okay okay okay hear me out, ben shelton x reader and reader is ben’s mixed doubles partner and they are also dating. idk what else just like fluffy and you can see their chemistry on the court and they work really good together

No because yes. I was going to make this a full fic, but I don't know when I'll have the time to write it, so we're going to expand on it now hehe

The connection really hits with the eyes. Way too long looks at each other while taking breaks. Staring at each other for moments too long during small moments between points. Playful glaring during practices when he teases that he'll hit you with his serve.

Then the lingering touches. Passing you balls or towels or water means the entirety of his hand finds its way to cover yours. His shoulder is going to brush yours all the time. He'll go extremely out of his way to do so.

Then, when he realizes you're feeling the same thing but neither of you have made a move, the flirtatious comments and personality start. If you thought his original personality was flirty, his intentional flirtiness is way, way stronger. It's enough to send both chills and fire through your body. Your cheeks are warm even before any playing of the sport occurs because of his little quips and chirps (hockey lingo peeps through lol) he sends your way.

On the court, you're electric together. Maybe it's the feelings you have for each other and how it means you're both extremely aware of where the other person is. Regarldess, you're unstoppable with him.

And, in my vision, after winning a long and gruesome game, the emotions and the relief are crazy, and as you're walking back to your bags and stuff, you're talking, and then impulse you kiss him. You pull him towards yourself and just kiss the shit out of him. It only takes a few seconds before he's returning the kiss, and his hands are all over you. It wouldn't matter the cameras because finally (finally!!) it's out there, your feelings for each other.

And then when you're dating? Nuh uh, no one likes play against you because of how electric and insync you guys are

#okay i love this!!!! #ben shelton #ben shelton x reader #tennis

[elordilover]

Can't Break Up Now (B. Shelton)

Summary: In the little moments of life, you realize that Ben truly is your forever person.

Author's Note: Hi, here's the first tennis fic that I finally feel comfortable sharing with the world :). I hope you like this one, and let me know what you think!

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: None that I can think of!

“Good morning,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around Ben’s waist as he’s stirring a mug at the kitchen counter. It was a slow Sunday morning—your day off from work and school and Ben’s rest day. Going to bed late the previous night from watching movies, you had rolled out of bed around 10:30, itching for caffeine to enter your bloodstream. 

“Morning,” Ben replies, his hand warm from the mug stroking against yours. “Coffee?”

“Mhm, obviously.”

A small chuckle leaves Ben’s throat, and you feel it in his back from where your head rests. “Here you go,” he tells you, placing a mug in your hand. 

“Hmm?”

In a smooth motion, Ben takes the mug out of your hand and slowly turns in your embrace, so his front is facing yours. Handing you the mug, he says with a smile, “Coffee, for you.” 

“Thank you,” you answer, your chest filling both with warmth and speculation. You were very particular about how you take your coffee, the color being very specific and tough to match without knowing your exact measurements of milk, sugar, and syrup. 

“Try it; go on,” Ben pushes, a cocky smirk on his face. 

“Your bedhead curls are cute,” you say in an attempt to change the subject and push the coffee into Ben’s hands. One of your hands gently brushes his curls up his face, opening up his eyes and forehead to your view. 

“Sure, but try the coffee.” 

“You know how particular I am about my coffee. I don’t want to offend you in case you got it wrong.” 

“But I didn’t.” Oh, he’s smug now. “Look at it; it’s the perfect color that you like.” 

“Okay,” you relent after a fifteen-second-long staring contest. You’re not sure why you keep engaging in those with him. With one look into your eyes and a grin, Ben can get you to do anything. You glance down at the mug and notice that it’s pretty close to the color you make your coffee. “Why don’t you just drink it?” 

“You and I both know that this is nowhere near how I drink my coffee.” 

“Ben.” 

“Babe.” 

“Fine.” You finally take a sip and feel Ben’s hands wrap around your back, his thumb stroking small soothing circles. 

“Not too bad, yeah?”

“Very good. Actually, pretty close to perfect.” 

“Perfect? Does this mean I get to make your coffee for you every day, now?” Ben gloats. 

You roll your eyes. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. Who knows, maybe this is just a lucky, first attempt.”

“Oh no, it’s definitely not.” He reaches for his phone over on the counter, opens up the notes app, and turns his screen to show you a list. For almost two months, Ben documented the way you made your coffee with funny little quips. “I think it’s safe to say I’m an expert at your coffee.” 

“I guess so,” you reply, taking another sip. 

With a smile, Ben kisses you on your forehead before leaving you for coffee as he starts making breakfast. 

He really did know the way you take your coffee. That’s a love language, right? 

. . .

For you, pajamas were something sacred. They were something that you put a lot of care and effort into. Sleep was one of the most important parts of living life, and something you needed to function properly the next day, so of course, you were going to put immense effort into the clothes you were going to wear to bed. 

One night after taking a shower, wrapped in a towel, you were looking at the drawer that you designated for pajamas and couldn’t help but notice how much of it was Ben’s t-shirts. Some of the shirts were starchy and uncomfortable, but you know that if you had to pick between one of those more uncomfortable shirts or one of your favorites, you were picking the starchy shirt (most of the time). Maybe it was because it smelled like his detergent, and you knew he had worn it once in his life. Maybe it was the way it made him smile whenever you wore one of his shirts. Maybe it was the way you felt safe and comfortable in one of his shirts. Maybe it was just Ben. 

With a small smile and a comfortable warmth spreading across your body, you pick one of Ben’s t-shirts and put it on before finishing your nightcare routine and joining Ben to lounge on the couch. 

“One of my shirts,” he murmurs. You feel the movement of his lips against your neck. 

Once you join Ben on the couch, he wraps an arm around your shoulder before he bends down and places a kiss on the side of your neck. You can feel the big smile that’s on his face as his face meets the skin of your neck. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, too engulfed in his touch to say anything more or throw a quip his way. 

“I like it,” he replies, not against your skin. He’s sat back up now, so he’s looking at you as he talks. 

“I’ve worn your shirts before,” you comment, lifting an eyebrow, needding to give him a tough time for his comment now that you’ve regained your composure. 

“Doesn’t make a difference. Still makes my heart rattle to see you wearing my clothes.” 

Well, you didn’t have anything to say to that. 

A few weeks later, you’re minding your business as you walk into your shared bedroom to find something. You stop in your tracks and forget the purpose of walking into your room as you watch Ben putting his laundry away. 

The dresser that you and Ben share is large, with eight drawers. Four on one side for you and four for him. For the most part, the two sides don’t intermingle, and you both keep your clothes separate. However, the drawer that you keep your pajamas in is open, and Ben is placing his shirts into it. 

Typically, if you’re wearing one of his shirts, you’ll wash it and place it back in his drawers. The shirts of his that you’ve worn over the past few weeks are back on his side of the drawer, but Ben, who’s just done laundry, is placing more shirts into your drawer. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask, careful not to startle him. 

“Putting laundry away,” he replies, not glancing up from the task at hand. 

“But that’s my side.” 

“But they’re your shirts,” he says without hesitation. 

“Mmm, I don’t think so. They’re definitely your shirts.” 

Ben finally looks up at you, and from the look he’s giving you, you can tell his cheeks have gone warm as you’ve caught him in the act of stowing shirts in your drawers. “They look better on you,” he murmurs, barely audible for you to hear. You heard him loud and clear, but you like messing with Ben, making him more bashful with each word and comment, so you ask him to repeat himself. 

“They look better on you,” he repeats, barely looking at you. 

You smirk, walking over to Ben. You take his face in your hands and pull him close to you gently. With a small peck, you say, against his lips, “Thank you. I’ll take your shirts whenever.”

“It makes me happy when you wear them,” he is quick to say, his lips brushing against yours. “I have a folder in my camera roll of pictures of you in them. That sounds stalker-ish, but I promise it’s because I like seeing you in my shirts.” 

Chuckling, you give him another peck. “A little stalker-ish, but I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” he murmurs, pulling you close against his body. 

Ben starts where you end, and if the ship’s ever going down, you’re going to hold on until you can fix it. 

. . . 

Ben and his team were out of town for the weekend, going on a small retreat before one of the upcoming tournaments. It was one of the more important tournaments, so the team thought getting some time away from the noise and pressures of the city would help Ben’s game. So, that meant the apartment was empty except for you. You were able to play your music as loud as you wanted (but truly, though, Ben wouldn’t have minded if you played your music loudly, even if it wasn’t his preferred taste in music). You can cook whatever you want, and lounge around the couch however you want. Honestly, you could do whatever you wanted around the apartment, and Ben would take it in stride with a smile and a small shake of his head. 

It was 9:30 on Friday night, hours after Ben headed out of town, and you were already in bed, lounging among the blankets and pillows, a movie playing on your computer. It had been a long week, so all you wanted to do was relax and unwind. 

By the time the movie had ended, you turned off your computer and placed it on your nightstand as you went to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. 

Once you got back into bed, you checked your phone once more and saw that you had a text from Ben. He sent a picture of himself, lying shirtless in his hotel bed, captioned Good night. With a small chuckle, you saved the photo of him and sent your own with a Good night. Turning on “do not disturb,” you put your phone down on your nightstand and turned off the lights, ready for bed. 

Within a few minutes, you’re in a comfortable position. With Ben out of town, his side of the bed is empty, but you drag his pillow close to you. Breathing in, you smell Ben’s shampoo and conditioner on his pillow, and the scent of his aftershave and cologne are lingering. 

You didn’t think you would miss him as much as you do at this moment, but you do. Smelling him on his pillow is enough to bring a few tears to your eyes. With a quick swipe at your eyes, you place Ben’s pillow back in its spot and try to fall asleep. 

There’s only one thought that runs through your mind as you try to fall asleep. 

Ben has managed to insert himself into every little part of your life and into the little nooks and crannies that you keep close to yourself. If he can do that and make you feel so loved, that must mean he’s your forever person, right? 

Well, you can’t break up now. You both love too hard.  

Living life with Ben seems pretty nice. 

#ADORABLE #I LOVE BEN SHELTON #WE NEED MORE BEN FICS #ben shelton #ben shelton × reader #ben shelton fic #tennis fic #tennis #x reader

[elordilover]

Could u do a tennis girl!reader x tom and she’s rlly good and playing at Wimbledon where tom comes and watches like the supportive boyfriend he is. Reader gets injured or something and the medics come on court and tend to her and the camera focuses on tom who is very worried. Maybe tom even gets to go on court and holds readers hand to comfort her and this makes fans go crazy. Love ur writing btw 🫶

When in Wimbledon || Tom Blyth x gf!reader

A/n: I LOVE WATCHING TENNIS!!! I actually went to Wimbledon this year and watched Emma Raducanu play so I made her the fc for this!!

Warnings: reader gets injured, idk what else

Wc: 808

Tom Blyth masterlist

divider by @pommecita

You feel a pair of strong hands wrap around your waist as a smile makes it to your lips, his familiar scent hitting your nose as you turn around. “I’m so happy you’re here,” You whisper in his neck, your hands wrapped snugly around him as he rubs your back.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, darling,” He grins, kissing your head before you go back to stretching with your coach. Tom watches as you stretch your limbs, preparing yourself for the match that was going to begin in 30 minutes.

You kiss your boyfriend goodbye, parting ways with him as it was your time to step out into court—Tom making his way to your player box where he would be seated beside your coach.

You step onto the pristine grass court at Wimbledon, the crowd buzzing with anticipation as you, a skilled tennis player, prepare for a crucial match. The familiar scent of freshly cut grass and the echo of applause surround you.

Tom’s eyes were fixated on you the whole time, his applaud more louder and enthusiastic than everyone else’s. The match unfolds, and you dominate the court with your powerful serves and agile movements. The spectators erupt into cheers with every successful point you score.

Tom can’t help but smile, his eyes filled with pride as he watches you play. The atmosphere is electric, and you can feel the energy of the crowd propelling you forward.

As the match progresses, you’re in top form, moving gracefully and hitting the ball with precision. Tom’s enthusiastic cheers blend with the crowd’s roars. And in a split second—in a misstep—your ankle gives out on you, tripping over and landing on your wrist, the anguish shooting through your body, a light scream leaving your lips.

The crowd falls into a hushed silence as you crumple to the ground, clutching your injuries, your breathing deep and harboured. The medics rush onto the court, their urgency reflected in the worried expressions of the spectators.

Tom’s face tightens with concern as he leans forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving you. “Fuck,” Joseph, your coach whispers to himself, his hands rubbing his forehead. The camera captures the worry etched on Tom’s face, and the entire audience holds its breath, collectively hoping for your well-being.

The medics examine you, carefully tending to your injured wrist and ankle as they move you to your seat. The pain was unbearable, and you fight back tears, knowing that this might mark the end of your season.

Tom watches with a pained expression, unable to hide his concern. Your coach stands from his seat, your seat was close enough to the players box that you could hear Joseph’s words of encouragement, but it’s Tom who steals the spotlight with his genuine worry and love for you.

Your entire body was shaking as one hand covers your face, tears brimming your eyes. You wanted Tom. You needed him by your side. You knew he would calm you down straight away. “Tom. I want my boyfriend here,” You hold one of the medics arm as he looks at you before nodding, talking into his radio.

In a heartwarming moment, the officials allow Tom to come onto the court. He rushes to your side, his face a mix of anxiety and determination. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as he gently takes your hand, “It’s okay, I��m here sweetheart, you’re going to be okay,” he offers words of comfort that only you can hear. His touch and soothing words calm your racing heart as you struggle to come to terms with the potential impact on your season.

The crowd watches in awe as Tom’s support becomes a beacon of reassurance amid the uncertainty. His caring gesture elicits a collective “aww” from the fans, who can’t help but admire the bond you share. Social media lights up with admiration for Tom’s devotion to you.

As the medics continue their evaluation, the reality sinks in—this might be a significant setback. Your eyes meet Tom’s, and he offers a gentle smile, silently promising to be there through thick and thin. The disappointment is palpable, but the gratitude for Tom’s unwavering support tempers the pain.

The medics advise you to withdraw from the match and seek further medical attention. Tom helps you stand, supporting your weight as you limp off the court. The crowd, initially filled with the thrill of competition, now applauds the display of resilience and love.

You give them a weak smile and wave as Tom remains by your side. When you step into your locker room, Tom assists you with a supportive arm around your shoulders. The pain is intense, but his presence provides a comforting distraction.

Your coach walks in as he engulfs you in a hug. “You’ll be okay, y/n. It’s a setback for sure, but you’ll be okay,” he comfortingly says to you as he hands you a water bottle to which your gratefully take.

You were taken to hospital, Tom still by your side as he held your hand. “You’ll be off for a few months, Y/n,” The doctor gives you a sympathetic smile as you nod your head, tears already blurring your sight.

The second the doctor left leaving you and Tom alone. You broke down in tears. He gave you a hug, whispering reassuring things in your ear. As you sobbed. Your season had been going so incredibly well until now. But you were grateful that Tom had been by your side during the entirety of it.

Y/n_Y/l/n

Liked by tomblyth, wimbledon, rachelzegler, josephmccarty and 8,307,253 others

before wimbledon vs. after wimbledon 🥲 it pains me the I have to miss out on the other half of this tennis season and I tried to downplay the issue so I thank all my fans who continued to support me during this difficult time. I’d like to thank all my close friends and family for being by my side during all of this. I love each and every single one of you 💗

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tomblyth: you’re so strong ml ❤️

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: I love you.

josephmmcarty: you’ll come back stronger than ever 💪

user92: I was there watching the match live and when I saw tom jumping the gate and rush to her, my heart melted 😭

user10: hope you heal quickly y/n!!!

user56: her and tom are literally so wholesome 🥹 when he was holding her hand when she was in pain, i swear i died of of how wholesome the moment was

user01: such a shame, she was doing so well this season!!! Get better y/n :)

#can y’all tell i’m going through a tennis phase

[elordilover]

BARK BARK BARK