Imagine: Restless

(first night home with your newborn daughter and everyone’s a little tired)

~{requested by anon}~
Hope you all enjoy!

+

It was nearly two in the morning when she started crying again. You’d heard it, waking up with a little groan, rolling over on your side and taking a minute to regain your senses before slinging your legs over the side of the bed, sitting up and wincing. Everything hurt from your hours of labor only a little bit ago. 

You heard Ed’s figure stir beside you, his hands rubbing at his eyes as he saw your silhouette sitting awkwardly upright, and his voice came out low before he cleared his throat, startling you, as you winced at the ache when you tried to turn around to see him. 

"Fucking hell, I’m sorry," he apologized, getting up immediately and padding over to your side of the bed, catching sight of your heavy eyes and slumped frame, and his eyes went soft instantly. "It’s me," he restated, blue eyes dark. "You need rest, let me."

You nodded against your will, too tired to object. His left hand found the curve of your side, soft from the baby weight, and the other hand took yours, kissing your knuckles as he helped you to lay back in the bed. 

Your little girl’s cries increased as he shared a worried look with you, squeezing your hand and dropping a kiss to your forehead before shuffling his sock-covered feet towards the nursery, disappearing around the doorframe. 

You tried to go back to sleep, shifting on your side to try to ease the pressure from your back, hearing Ed’s quiet singing resonating back through the hallways, even as her cries continued. 

You closed your eyes, trying to get as much sleep as possible as the shrill pitches of her irritation died down, being replaced by the rhythmic creak of the hinges on the rocking chair as he finally got her to settle down. 

A few minutes later he returned, smelling softly of milky sweetness and clean linen, brushing at his nose before climbing in bed tenderly, doing his best not to jostle the mattress or your worn-out body. 

"Thank you," you said, turning gradually to face him, feeling him gently cradle you, his cautious hands on your aching back.

"Sh, don’t thank me," he whispered, volume clearly trying to prevent the newborn from waking, "You’re exhausted, it was no problem."

You smiled, closing your eyes against his warmth as you breathed in his scent, face pressed comfortably against his chest. 

“Get sleep while you can,” he said with an amused huff, voice going breathy from fatigue. “All thirty minutes of it.”

//

He was just nearly right. 

About another hour passed before she started crying again, and Ed sighed and obediently paced back to the nursery, the feeling of guilt prickling in his stomach because he hated to see anyone upset, especially someone as innocent as his day old daughter. 

"I’m trying,” he said, voice cracking painfully as he tried to reason with her, watching her little hands curl up in tiny fists and wrap themselves in his loose Duffer jumper, “I don’t know what to do for you, you’re changed, you’re fed, everything’s how it should be.”

That’s when you decided to get up, cautiously waddling to the doorframe where he hastily wiped at his eyes with the too-long sleeves of his shirt, his sniffling only barely audible over her continuous cries. 

His glassy eyes looked up to you at the doorframe from where he sat in the rocking chair, her tucked safely in the crook of his arm. 

"Ed?" You said timidly, voice scratchy from labor, and he nodded brokenly, clearing his throat. 

"I don’t know what to do and I hate hearing her cry," he stated simply, sounding completely helpless. 

"Here," you said, reaching for the small bundle in his arms, and he handed her to you gently, wrapping the blanket around her loosely before transferring her fragile body to yours, watching with wide eyes. 

"Try holding her," you fixed her blanket, "More like this, try skin-to-skin, so she gets your scent, it’s supposed to help." 

He seemed pleased with the idea, taking her when you offered her back, tugging down the loose neckline of the jumper so she could rest her cheek and one tiny fist against the soft ridge of his collarbone, nose nuzzled into the dip of his neck. 

Her crying started to slow as he picked up his humming tune again, one arm supporting beneath her bum and the other flat on her back, tracing shapes with a calloused finger. 

"There you are," he said, voice thick with fondness as she started to quiet, relaxing in his arms. He sounded relieved, looking up at you with a pleased little smile when her quiet snores started to fill the room. 

He let her lay, content and fascinated with the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, and her tiny fingers that could wrap around a single one of yours or his, until he gently placed her back in the cradle, switching off the light and waiting for your to join him at his side as his arm touched your waist. 

"You’re the one that just went through eighteen hours of labor, and I’m the one whining," he said, a little laugh to follow. 

"We’re both tired," you agreed, stopping to kiss his lips as you made your way back to the bedroom, feeling them soft and pliant against yours, "But it’ll get better. You’re a natural, she loves you, you can tell."

His shoulders went lax, like the weight of the world had been lifted from them as he climbed into bed, toeing off his socks and turning the light off once you’d joined him, a grateful sound coming from his throat.  

"Here’s to thirty minutes of sleep," you laughed, cuddling up to him again. 

He laughed, fingertips pebbling over your belly, still slightly inflated from the bump that had been there for months, getting accustomed to begin able to sleep close to you again, without the bump.  

"Wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else," he said, lazily kissing you again as you both closed your eyes, not expecting any sleep at all but it was ok, because you had each other, and now a third addition to love and care for. 

+

My other imagines can be found here: http://holysheerios.tumblr.com/imagines
Thank you guys x

Imagine: Restless
(first night home with your newborn daughter and everyone’s a little tired)
~{requested by anon}~
Hope you all enjoy!

+

It was nearly two in the morning when she started crying again. You’d heard it, waking up with a little groan, rolling over on your side and taking a minute to regain your senses before slinging your legs over the side of the bed, sitting up and wincing. Everything hurt from your hours of labor only a little bit ago.

You heard Ed’s figure stir beside you, his hands rubbing at his eyes as he saw your silhouette sitting awkwardly upright, and his voice came out low before he cleared his throat, startling you, as you winced at the ache when you tried to turn around to see him.

"Fucking hell, I’m sorry," he apologized, getting up immediately and padding over to your side of the bed, catching sight of your heavy eyes and slumped frame, and his eyes went soft instantly. "It’s me," he restated, blue eyes dark. "You need rest, let me."

You nodded against your will, too tired to object. His left hand found the curve of your side, soft from the baby weight, and the other hand took yours, kissing your knuckles as he helped you to lay back in the bed.

Your little girl’s cries increased as he shared a worried look with you, squeezing your hand and dropping a kiss to your forehead before shuffling his sock-covered feet towards the nursery, disappearing around the doorframe.

You tried to go back to sleep, shifting on your side to try to ease the pressure from your back, hearing Ed’s quiet singing resonating back through the hallways, even as her cries continued.

You closed your eyes, trying to get as much sleep as possible as the shrill pitches of her irritation died down, being replaced by the rhythmic creak of the hinges on the rocking chair as he finally got her to settle down.

A few minutes later he returned, smelling softly of milky sweetness and clean linen, brushing at his nose before climbing in bed tenderly, doing his best not to jostle the mattress or your worn-out body.

"Thank you," you said, turning gradually to face him, feeling him gently cradle you, his cautious hands on your aching back.

"Sh, don’t thank me," he whispered, volume clearly trying to prevent the newborn from waking, "You’re exhausted, it was no problem."

You smiled, closing your eyes against his warmth as you breathed in his scent, face pressed comfortably against his chest.

“Get sleep while you can,” he said with an amused huff, voice going breathy from fatigue. “All thirty minutes of it.”

//

He was just nearly right.

About another hour passed before she started crying again, and Ed sighed and obediently paced back to the nursery, the feeling of guilt prickling in his stomach because he hated to see anyone upset, especially someone as innocent as his day old daughter.

"I’m trying,” he said, voice cracking painfully as he tried to reason with her, watching her little hands curl up in tiny fists and wrap themselves in his loose Duffer jumper, “I don’t know what to do for you, you’re changed, you’re fed, everything’s how it should be.”

That’s when you decided to get up, cautiously waddling to the doorframe where he hastily wiped at his eyes with the too-long sleeves of his shirt, his sniffling only barely audible over her continuous cries.

His glassy eyes looked up to you at the doorframe from where he sat in the rocking chair, her tucked safely in the crook of his arm.

"Ed?" You said timidly, voice scratchy from labor, and he nodded brokenly, clearing his throat.

"I don’t know what to do and I hate hearing her cry," he stated simply, sounding completely helpless.

"Here," you said, reaching for the small bundle in his arms, and he handed her to you gently, wrapping the blanket around her loosely before transferring her fragile body to yours, watching with wide eyes.

"Try holding her," you fixed her blanket, "More like this, try skin-to-skin, so she gets your scent, it’s supposed to help."

He seemed pleased with the idea, taking her when you offered her back, tugging down the loose neckline of the jumper so she could rest her cheek and one tiny fist against the soft ridge of his collarbone, nose nuzzled into the dip of his neck.

Her crying started to slow as he picked up his humming tune again, one arm supporting beneath her bum and the other flat on her back, tracing shapes with a calloused finger.

"There you are," he said, voice thick with fondness as she started to quiet, relaxing in his arms. He sounded relieved, looking up at you with a pleased little smile when her quiet snores started to fill the room.

He let her lay, content and fascinated with the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, and her tiny fingers that could wrap around a single one of yours or his, until he gently placed her back in the cradle, switching off the light and waiting for your to join him at his side as his arm touched your waist.

"You’re the one that just went through eighteen hours of labor, and I’m the one whining," he said, a little laugh to follow.

"We’re both tired," you agreed, stopping to kiss his lips as you made your way back to the bedroom, feeling them soft and pliant against yours, "But it’ll get better. You’re a natural, she loves you, you can tell."

His shoulders went lax, like the weight of the world had been lifted from them as he climbed into bed, toeing off his socks and turning the light off once you’d joined him, a grateful sound coming from his throat.

"Here’s to thirty minutes of sleep," you laughed, cuddling up to him again.

He laughed, fingertips pebbling over your belly, still slightly inflated from the bump that had been there for months, getting accustomed to begin able to sleep close to you again, without the bump.

"Wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else," he said, lazily kissing you again as you both closed your eyes, not expecting any sleep at all but it was ok, because you had each other, and now a third addition to love and care for.

+

My other imagines can be found here: http://holysheerios.tumblr.com/imagines
Thank you guys x

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