#Comfort Character Comfort Prompts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Average visit duration of Tumblr.com is 10 mins and 25 secs.

#Comfort Character Comfort Prompts

raes-writing-space · 1 month

Text

Dick Grayson X Hero!Reader *Comfort*

Warnings: Mentions of body aches and fighting, but no actual action scenes written. Kind of written in a way that might make it seem like reader has PTSD. Not beta read.

Summary: Sometimes being a hero is taxing, and when your body is trained to handle blow after blow… sometimes a hug is enough to make you release a lot of feelings you didn't know you were even holding in. Dick Grayson notices your change in demeanor, and just does a simple act of giving you a long hug and telling you it's going to be okay.

Word Count: 672

A/N: This is part of my comfort characters with comfort prompts, I'm actually doing these characters based on who was my first comfort character to my most recent comfort character. So to kick things off, Dick Grayson! He was one of my first ever comfort characters, since I was about ten..!

Your body ached as you finally were able to take a seat. You and Nightwing had made it to the closest safe house, as you had taken on more injuries than you realized. Adrenaline had really come in handy sometimes, but not when it wore off, and hit you all at once. Typically you could take more than just a hit, after all, that's what you were trained for. But tonight felt different, tonight it was more than just a simple mission. Tonight was a reminder that you're alive, and how that could easily change in an instant. Memories of your life until that moment had started to run rampant through your mind, you tried so hard to push them away, but it only started to cause a headache. Or maybe you had gotten hit in the face a little harder than you thought. Dick had noticed how you seemed to zone out while you sat, your body was here, but the rest of you felt entirely somewhere else. He grabbed the medical kit that was previously using on himself, before crouching down next to you. You didn't even seem to notice how close he had gotten until he put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" He seemed to ask you, thinking this had to be far more than just physical pain at this point.

"I don't know…" You answered him honestly, trying to tune back into the reality you were in, but everything just started to feel like too much.

Your body started shaking, as you tried to find a better answer to give him, but truly you didn't understand what was going on with you. At this point, you couldn't even tell what was real, everything just started to blur. You wanted to reach out to Dick for him to help somehow, but as you reached towards him, you pulled your hand back. You just wanted to feel something real, but you didn't even know how to ask for it, or if you even deserved it. Dick noticed the action immediately, and how your eyes seemed to ask for help in a way that your words couldn't. All he could think to do was wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest. It took you a moment to realize what was happening, but the feeling of his arms around you with just enough pressure on your body seemed to ground you back in the moment. You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding, as you soon wrapped your arms around him in return. You couldn't help but hold onto him as if your life depended on it. When was the last time you got a hug from someone? When was the last time your body was used for more than just violence and pain? When was the last time you just simply wanted to use it for an act of kindness or love? You found yourself crying without even meaning to. Dick pulled you back with him to sit more comfortably together, expecting to be there for awhile. You followed him with ease, as you kept your arms wrapped around him. He knew this life wasn't always easy, and sometimes all he wanted was just a little moment like this himself.

"It's going to be okay… Even if it might not feel like it right now, one day it'll be okay…" Dick spoke, not exactly sure what you must be thinking of at the moment, but hoping his words could help in some way at least.

When you were ready, maybe you could try and explain to him what happened and he could patch you up. But until then, he could only hope that a hug will do. He began to rub your back gently, making sure to keep enough pressure to feel as if he was suffocating you somehow. But it was enough to make sure you knew he was there, and he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #nightwing #nightwing x reader #dc comics x reader #dc comics #dc comics imagines #Comfort Character Comfort Prompts #raes writing space

65 notes · View notes

allthingswhumpyandangsty · 5 months

Text

“if I died, delete my google search history” no actually if I died, delete my ao3 history. what I read in bed at 3 in the morning is between me and satan god

2K notes · View notes

ricesinspo · 3 months

Text

☆ 'someone finally cares about you' prompts.

by @ricesinspo, credits appreciated!

[★] they wrapped their arms around you - you can't remember the last time someone hugged you like this.

[★] getting pulled aside while everyone else is yelling at you. they get you like none of the others do; they know not to yell.

[★] patiently listening to all of your problems. like actually listening.

[★] ^ with no judgement.

[★] they notice whenever something's wrong.

[★] letting you cry into their arms. telling you it's okay, everything is okay - and you know it's true because they're with you.

[★] letting you cry at all; realizing you don't have to hide your tears in front of them.

[★] "in a world where people don't care about me, i'm lucky to have you."

[★] ^ and then they're like "who hurt you" / "where are your __ i just want to talk" lmao

#ricesinspo #writing inspiration #writing prompts #hurt/comfort prompts #relationship prompts #otp prompts #imagine your otp #these prompts arent exclusively romantic btw!! just tagging these because yeah #care about you prompts #last year i read a fic that had the 2nd scenario and honestly #to this day i still dont know how to feel about my favorite character living out my fantasy

2K notes · View notes

girlwithherheadinthestars · 2 months

Text

father figure prompts pt. 1 (cw: daddy issues)

"why did you think i'd be mad at you? of course i'm not mad at you. it's just one broken cup. there are seven hundred other cups."

"you're okay. i promise you're okay."

"it's not your fault. it's not your fault."

(of MC's birth father) "did he hurt you again? going to beat him up one of these days i swear to god. come, let's get ice cream."

"you seem in dire need of cookies."

"oh, honey, come here." (hugging) "it's okay to be vulnerable, okay?"

"are you doing okay?"

"don't say you're sorry, please, you didn't even do anything."

"can't sleep?"

"are you sick? no, no, you're staying home. i'll make you soup and put on a disney movie you're not going anywhere like that."

"have you eaten?"

"i love you as much as my children, and no one hurts my children."

"nightmares?"

"you don't have to do anything, just rest. please."

"you're going to hurt yourself. take a break."

part. 2

#writeblr #writing #writing prompts #dialogue prompts #writing dialogue #writing prompt #prompts #writing ideas #dialogue prompt #character dialogue #dialogue ideas #prompt list #father figure #found family #comfort #little things #gentle

916 notes · View notes

comfort-character-central · 1 month

Text

Imagine being "the exception" for your f/o. Being the one who they feel closest to, the one they confide in, you're the one they come to, because they trust you the most. Your f/o puts such loyalty and positive emotional energy into your connection, because you are that special to them. You make them feel loved, heard, accepted. And that is something your f/o will always be thankful for - the opportunity to be themselves by someone who gets it, who gets them.

#fictional other #comfort character #f/o community #self ship #f/o positivity #f/o x s/i #f/o prompts #f/o imagines #imagine your fictional other #comfort character imagines

620 notes · View notes

eloquent-edits · 2 months

Text

🗡️ “That time of the month again?”

because we all know that periods suck and characters are not immune to the horrors 🗡️ prompt list of comforting actions

Character A is bedridden from the cramps and Character B becomes their living heating pad (cuddles with arms wrapped around the waist >>>>)

B buys A their favorite chocolates a couple days before their period starts and keeps beverages with electrolytes on hand

A takes a day off to rest, bingewatch some episodes of a good show, and care for themselves (maybe do some yoga, and by yoga I mean curl up in the fetal position for a couple hours)

B thinks that making a nice bath for A will help and prepares everything for when A gets home (A laughs and explains why that’s not a great idea)

Searching for Shark Week’s episodes online to deal with shark week in person, but getting distracted by cute animal shows

B can’t be there for A in person so they send A $30 to cover extra snacks and/or medicine

Instead of getting emotional over posts online, A digs out an old book series and gets emotional over that (they are reliving their childhood, they swear it’s cathartic THEY SWEAR)

A can’t sleep with the back pain so B gives them a light back massage with several check-ins to make sure the noises are in relief and not pain

B keeps the lights dim and and TV volume low as A battles a headache

All meals are made with ahead of time and cravings humored (“You can’t just eat straight salt.” “I know that, which is why I’m putting all of it on this.”)

A asks for B to get more pads/tampons at the store, B calls and sends many pictures as they try to figure out what will work best for A

B quietly scrubs out any bloodstains from A’s clothes as they do laundry (and they’re really efficient at it, why are they so good at getting blood out of clothing—)

A snuggling up with their pet who knows the exact spot to be in for maximum comfy (B thinks it’s adorable and takes a picture to show A later)

“I’m sorry if I’m not really conversational right now…” “Dude you’re on your period and barely slept last night, you’re good. We don’t have to talk, we can just chill.”

B brings home a machine for homemade ice-cream and all the ingredients needed for A’s favorite flavor (they spend the evening making it and declare a “dessert before dinner” day for when periods strike)

#writing #writing prompts #prompts #period comfort #character dynamics #character prompts #otp prompts #imagine your otp #prompt list #care prompts #comfort prompts #action prompts #acts of service ✨#if you can’t tell this is absolutely self-indulgent #I got cuddles yesterday and I WANT MORE IT WASN’T ENOUGH #please somebody buy me my favorite icecream and watch cute shows with me

892 notes · View notes

bebx · 1 month

Text

love the classic damsel in distress trope, but the damsel in question is a pathetic fictional man bleeding out in the dark somewhere on the floor before his ridiculously gorgeous knight comes for his rescue just when he’s about to pass out, and the ridiculously gorgeous knight in question is actually a deranged villain who is his archenemy. but they both have these frustratingly unresolved sexual tension going on where they both hate each other but are also super possessive and protective of each other in the sense that no one else can hurt this little guy but me!!!! and so the knight carries his pathetic damsel in his arms bridal style back to his goth castle where they have hot, kinky gay sex ever after (after he nurses his pathetic enemy’s ass back to health, of course, can’t risk bruising our fragile damsel when he’s already half dead).

798 notes · View notes

rookthebird · 7 months

Text

take a vain character. a character who's constantly smirking at himself in mirrors, obsessed with the tailoring of his waistcoats, proud of his accessories and the way his hair shines.

and then throw him in the dirt. he's given just enough water to keep from dying of dehydration, and the longing to wash his face becomes secondary to survival. he doesn't care if his wounds scar, as long as he can find something to stop the bleeding. he's freezing to death and forced to wear every ragged, torn piece of clothing he can scrounge up- or maybe even having clothing becomes a luxury.

when help finds him, he's no longer vain at all. he wears whatever he's given, cleans himself only when reminded to, doesn't even have the energy to brush his own hair.

and then one day a weak voice comes from where he's resting:

"Can I have... a mirror?"

Everyone looking after him breathes a sigh of relief.

#whump prompt #whump prompts #whump writing #whumpblr #whump ideas #whump character #hurt/comfort #whump community #lestat de lioncourt energy

859 notes · View notes

cinderellahoneymoon · 3 months

Text

i guess we gotta have this talk AGAIN

the selfship community is using and appropriating aave to an astounding amount and as a black selfshipper, it makes the community feel unsafe for us to be around. here is a list of the words/phrases you should not be using and let your mutuals know they should also not be using because they are aave

simp

pookie

rizz

down bad

slay

finna

also yall barely interact w black selfshippers in general, get on that.

[NONBLACK PEOPLE DO NOT SPEAK AT ALL ON THIS POST. YALL ALWAYS GOT SOMETHING TO SAY KEEP IT TO YOURSELF IT ISNT YOUR TURN TO TALK.]

691 notes · View notes

sicktember · 11 months

Text

Official Sicktember 2023 Prompt List!

[Faqs Post]

[How to Submit Content Post]

[2023 Sicktember Collection on AO3]

[2023 Content Promotion Changes]

** Please remember to read the FAQs before asking event related questions**

[text version of the prompt list below the cut]

Prompts:

1. Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care

2. Quest for a Cure

3. "What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?"

4. Hiding an Illness

5. Preventative Measures (Not Taken)

6. Sick and Injured

7. “You’re a Jerk When You’re Sick”

8. Persistent Fever

9. White Coat Syndrome

10. “The only place we’re going is to the pharmacy”

11. Beginner’s Guide to Faking Sick

12. Old Wives Tale

13. Anxious Stomach

14. ‘‘I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am’’

15. Sick in an Inconvenient Place

16. Consulting the Internet/Web MD

17. Magical Remedy/Healing Potion

18. “Wear Your Coat, You’ll Catch a Cold”

19. Curled Up With a Pet

20. Cramping Pain

21. "But if you stay, you'll get sick too"

22. Terms of Endearment/Nicknames

23. Coughing Fit

24. “Did you just sneeze?”

25. Confused/Disoriented

26. Pink Eye/Conjunctivitis

27. Uncooperative Patient

28. “I should have stayed home”

29. Side Effects/Adverse Reaction

30. Patient 0

Alts.

“I Could Really Use a Hug Right About Now”

Fuzzy Socks

Pounding Headache

Forehead Kisses

“I’m so sorry”

1K notes · View notes

raes-writing-space · 30 days

Text

Matthew Anderson x Reader *Respecting Boundaries Comfort*

Warnings: Mentions of Sexual Assault (coercion), sexual assault from a past significant other (unspecified gender), mentions of PTSD, cursing, and of sexual themes. Not beta read.

Summary: You and Matthew have been dating for awhile. However, you're finding a hard time telling him about your past experience with being sexually assaulted. When Matthew starts noticing that you're starting to distance yourself from him before things start to heat up, he asks if you're okay and comfortable with him. When you tell him the truth, he comforts you and tells you that he will always love you regardless if you want to have sex or not.

Word Count: 1,988

A/N: Reader isn't exactly Mika, and I spaced out the time from the first game between Malix and Diana it took a little over a month, because having the events happening within a week is wild to me. Also I kinda changed the way they need sexual energy to make it easier for the plot.

This is also kind of asexual coded if you squint. It's never explicitly said in the story, however, I am asexual, so I kinda wrote it in a way of what I'd like to hear? So it could be taken both ways. This is based off of a very real experience so be a bit gentle if for some reason you wanna judge this story.

It had already been about six months since you confessed your love for Matthew, and he confessed his love for you in turn. Between the month and a half of chaos with Malix and Diana, you were lucky to get to know the brothers while they were training. While the boys were still trying to adjust to the human world, they stayed with you, which helped you adjust to living in a mansion and finish up your schooling. They really had become like your own found family, and you gave them a sense of that too. Over time as you opened up to them, they opened up to you, about what their lives were like in the Abyssal Plains, how different things were, and what they hoped out of their new lives here in the human world. Matthew of course, opened up to you the most, the two of you knowing each other like the back of your hand. But there were still some things about your life that you found hard to open up to him about. When it came to the topic of past relationships, if there were any, you tried to keep things vague, only really saying that things ended badly. Matthew respected that, and never tried to pry any further if you weren't comfortable talking about it. For the first month or so into your relationship, you could almost forget about the fact that Matthew was an Incubus, other than creating little toys and trinkets for you from time to time. When the two of you kissed, it kept him satiated long enough until the two of you would kiss again, so the idea of him needing to feed on energy started to slowly escape your mind. But as time started passing, it became more prevalent that things started to get a bit more heated each time. He would never pressure you into anything you didn't want to do, and if you told him to stop, he was quick to do just that. But it was undeniable at this point that he had been thinking about wanting to take things further with you. You had meant to tell him at some point about your past history, but every time you wanted to bring it up, your words would get caught in your throat, and your whole body reacted as if it was just wanted to dispose of the idea all together and change the subject to something else. The more time went on, the more you kept wanting to bring it up, but just continued to struggle. It started triggering some of the memories you just couldn't seem to forget, and it was starting to affect how you acted affectionately around him. After a particular make out session, his hand had started to travel down your thigh, and while you were sure it was meant to be innocent, you suddenly gasped and grabbed his hand to stop him. He stopped immediately and apologized, not meaning to make you uncomfortable or take things too far. Matthew had started noticing the small changed before, but at this point it was obvious, and he knew that it needed to be talked about. He didn't want to keep doing things that made you uncomfortable without exactly know what it was that was making you uncomfortable. The two of you had been cuddling and watching a movie together when an unexpected sex scene had come on. While it was typically depended on the movie, and how the sex scene was being played out, this time it made you a bit uncomfortable to sit though. Matthew had noticed how fidgety you had gotten in a second, grabbing the remote and fast forwarding through the scene wordlessly as you thanked him, before he kept the movie paused for a moment.

"Hey… Are we okay?" Matthew asked, finding himself fidgety as well. He had never been in love before, it was hardly ever talked about or seen as plausible for Incubi and Succubi to even be capable of love. However, you changed that for him, and he didn't want that to end.

"Yeah, we're okay." You said at first, and you could tell your anxiety started to pick up a bit. "I've just… been meaning to tell you something, but… don't really know how to say it…" You told him honestly, trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself.

"Are you uncomfortable with how affectionate I am?" He asked, as it was the question that's been on his mind for some time now.

"No! That's… It's…" You didn't know how to exactly put it, in a way you were, but at the same time you weren't. You liked how affectionate he was, you were just scared about how things would go if you two took it a step further. You didn't know how you would react, and quite frankly, you weren't entirely sure if you were even ready.

You took a deep breath, sitting up straighter on the couch, as you attempted to look him in the eyes, but found it hard to. Instead you opted to look at your hands that were intertwined with his.

"Things have been really good lately, and… I can tell that things are starting to get more, heated between us…" "Do you remember when you asked me about any past relationships I was in?" You then asked, him, as he nodded.

"Yeah, you told me it ended pretty badly…" He trailed off, piecing together that this must be what has been bugging you lately.

"Well…" You found your voice caught in your throat.

You had talked about this with some friends and a therapist once. The first time you spoke about it, you hadn't even realized you were sexually assaulted. Not until someone mentioned that you were coerced. When they explained it to you, it made you feel both a bit relieved, and panicked at the same time. On one hand, you were glad that you weren't crazy for feeling awful about saying yes to something you didn't mean, for so long you thought that it was your fault, and then finally… Someone explained to you that it wasn't. Then, on the other hand, you almost didn't feel as if you had the right to say you were sexually assaulted, even though that's what it was. It was hard to even say the words at first, because that meant it became more real.

"They… They sexually assaulted me." You finally spat out, feeling a bit nauseous all of a sudden.

Your mind wanted to try and distract you from it, to zone out and think of something else, but you knew that you had to at least explain why you had become distant.

"I wasn't ready… I tried to stop things before things got farther, but… They told me that I was being a shitty partner if…" You couldn't even say the words, hoping it was enough of a cue to fill in the blanks, "Sometimes they would stop, but become frustrated with me and become passive aggressive with me, other times they would just keep going anyway… Sometimes I would laugh because I became so uncomfortable, that they thought that when I said no… I didn't mean it, because I was laughing…"

Matthew held onto your hand a little tighter, you couldn't tell what he was thinking, and you couldn't look him in the eye just yet to clue you in on it.

"I know you've stopped every time I've asked, and you've never seen upset about it at all, and… You really haven't made me uncomfortable… It's just that every time things between us get a bit heated, my mind brings up these thoughts about sex, and… I get scared… Scared that I'll freak out and have to stop you midway and disappoint you, or that my mind won't be able to get into it and I'll just hate it the entire time…" At this point, you felt like you were rambling, but it was the only way your body was going to let you get this information out to him.

"I don't want that for you, or for us… You've been… so healing to be with… And I know respecting my boundaries and my no should be just the bare minimum in a relationship, but to me… it's everything. You have been such a breath of relief in my life, and every day I realize more and more that it's so easy to love you… I know with you being an incubus, you could so easily use your powers on me, to manipulate me, but you don't, you've never used your powers on me without my consent… and for that, I trust and love you wholeheartedly. I just…" You finally manage to look up at Matthew.

His eyes are puffy, and he's clearly been crying alongside you. You can tell that some part of him is angry, but that he's trying to keep it together. It made you pause your ramblings for a second, your gaze turning into one of concern quickly, as you reach out to gently cup his cheek. His hand reaches up to place over yours, as he leaned more into your touch. Finally, whatever you thought you were going to say next, never came.

"I'm sorry." Was all that you could say, you didn't exactly know what you were apologizing for, for making him cry you supposed.

He shook his head, "You don't have to apologize."

"(Y/N), thank you for telling me… It kills me to know that you've been hurt in such a way, and it makes me so fucking angry. I never want to hurt you, and if I ever did-" Matthew let out a shaky breath, "No, no you haven't." You interrupted him, not wanting him to think that.

"You mean so much to me, you've changed my life. I can't thank you enough for everything that you do, and I'm so grateful for every day I get to be with you. You're right, I could use my powers, and it would be normal for Incubi to do just that…" "But I swear, I never want to imagine any time where I would do that to you. Demons in the Abyssal Plains will tell me that I'm not capable of love, just as Diana said months ago… But I will always love you, regardless. If you some day decide you want to have sex, I will love you then. And if you decide you never want to have sex, I will still love you." Matthew spoke from his heart, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand that was still cupping his cheek.

You leaned forward, pressing a slow and teary eyed kiss to his lips. He reciprocated immediately, wanting to pull you into a hug, but unsure if that's something you'd want. You decided to initiate, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in close, as he did the exact same to you. Just hearing those words from him made you feel better about yourself and your relationship. There have been people who disagreed with you, telling you you that it was your fault, or that sex was synonymous with love. Luckily, you found someone who agreed with you, and that was a lovely feeling. You held each other for a long moment, until the two of you were able to calm down. The two of you spoke about possible triggers, and if some adaptations needed to be made in the way you two showed affection for each other. After the most important things were discussed, the two of you decided to continue the movie that you had paused. Through it all, Matthew had continued to remind you of all the reasons why you fell in love with him in the first place, and only gave you more reasons to love him.

#matthew anderson x reader #seduce me otome matthew #seduce me zecaeru #seduce me otome x reader #seduce me otome #Matthew Anderson #Seduce Me Matthew #tw: sa mention #Comfort Character Comfort Prompts

8 notes · View notes

metalhoops · 1 year

Text

“I think I’m seeing things, man,” Eddie spoke from his spot on the Harrington’s couch. His white skin appeared paler still against the brown leather.

Steve didn’t blame him. He was on all kinds of painkillers. It’d been two weeks since the world fell apart. Two weeks since Vecna disappeared. Two weeks since Eddie almost died.

Steve liked to treat those memories as others treated head-on collisions. It was better not to look at them directly. It was better to treat it like it’d never happened.

“What’re we looking at?” Steve asked from his spot on the floor, following Eddie’s line of sight to the gap in the curtains.

“Don’t know. Thought I saw somebody outside,” Eddie confessed.

The Harrington house had always been filled with spectres, whether that of partygoers, like front lawn flamingos in need of an exorcism or the body in the backyard pool. But those were Steve’s hang-ups, not Eddie’s.

If all it took to be a ghost was to haunt, Eddie might be included in the ranks of his own private phantasmagoria. He kept checking each night to make sure the boy was really there, that he’d really gotten out. People shouldn’t have that much blood in them, and they definitely shouldn’t have that much blood out of them.

Steve went to the window because that was something he could do for Eddie. He wasn’t sure why he kept feeling the need to apologise. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but hell if Steve knew if he’d done anything right either. He’d gotten Eddie out of the Upside Down. He’d put his hands inside the boy’s body, shoved his shirt beneath his skin and held it in the dark cavity that oozed and throbbed warm blood like the rise and fall of the tide.

Don’t think about it. Check the window. His hands at his side felt cold. He wondered if they’d ever be warm again. There was a figure across the street.

A boy in a basketball jersey circled passed the house.

Things never ended smoothly. Steve liked to think once Jason went down the rest of the vigilante crew would stop looking for Eddie, but there were some stragglers who hadn’t got the message.

Hopper had his hands full trying to clear Eddie’s name. Eddie’s uncle was still looking for him. The whole town was holding their breath in the midst of destruction, waiting for someone to blame. Steve shut the curtains, turned the lights off and moved to Eddie’s side in the darkness.

“Hounds of hell still circling then?” Eddie guessed after one glimpse at Steve’s face.

“I’ll call Hopper,” Steve reasoned, reaching up to squeeze Eddie’s knee. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it. Maybe to make sure he was real. Maybe to tell him he was sorry.

“Don’t worry about it, Steve,” Eddie spoke, reaching out and snagging the hem of Steve’s sweater.

“No one thinks I’m here. If the cops show up at the Harringtons’ it’s going to turn some heads,” Eddie reasoned, and he was right.

So where did that leave them? Sitting alone in the dark with Eddie fading in and out of sleep and Steve watching car headlights dance across the curtains, waiting for the moment everything went wrong.

“Steve?” Eddie breathed beside Steve’s ear in the blackness. He hadn’t realised they were so close.

“Yeah?” Steve moved his eyes from the window to look at Eddie.

“I think I’m crashing,” he noted, a grimace dancing across his face. Steve had never felt smaller.

“Doc said we’ve gotta wait six hours,” Steve replied, hoping he didn’t sound as worried as he felt.

“How long’s it been?”

“Three.”

Steve always wanted to appear cool in times of crisis, but he had no idea what he was doing. Some of the government agents Steve had signed countless NDAs for over the past four years had patched Eddie up as best they could and had started scrambling for a cover-up.

In the meantime, Eddie would stay at Steve’s place. It made the most sense. Eddie was nobody to Steve. No one would go looking for Eddie at the Harringtons’, and unlike the other older teens, he didn’t have parents to answer to. Big house. No parents. Perfect place to lie low.

Steve was nobody to Eddie and yet for the past week, they’d been an island unto themselves, trapped indoors together, watching shadows on the walls and trying to keep each other alive and sane. He felt completely unprepared.

“Alright. Come on. Let’s go to bed,” Steve muttered, kneeling in front of Eddie. He watched the boy rise to a sitting position over his shoulder. Eddie snorted.

“What exactly is the plan here, Steve?”

Eddie had been stuck oscillating between the living room, kitchen, and downstairs bathroom for days. They could both use a change of scenery.

“Piggyback,” Steve spoke, trying not to think about the connotations that the word had garnered. He wasn’t going to think about Vecna. Not today.

He expected the boy to argue, but instead, he felt Eddie’s arms snake around his throat. He held tight, but not as tight as he should. Steve had to hold on to his forearms like backpack straps as he stood. Eddie’s legs were stronger. They held firm around Steve’s waist.

Eddie’s head flopped against Steve’s shoulder blade, nuzzling into the space. He was warm as the sun. Too warm. He was running a temperature. Steve tried not to think of the last time he carried Eddie. The boy was uncharacteristically quiet. Steve needed to do something.

“Saddle up, buckeroo,” Steve spoke, hoisting Eddie further up his back. He felt a puff of air against his neck, a barely there laugh.

“Hi-yo, Silver,” Eddie grumbled against Steve’s skin.

Steve moved deftly through the dark, taking the staircase slowly and methodically. The last thing either of them needed was another broken bone.

“I think I owe you one once all this is over,” Eddie noted. Steve was already shaking his head.

“You stick around, and I’ll call it a favour. I think Henderson would kick my ass if you died.”

“The kid’s got spunk. I’ll give him that,” Eddie noted as the two reached the top of the stairs.

“He’s got an attitude and a problem with authority,” Steve corrected, taking Eddie to his bedroom.

He moved to the edge of his bed and let Eddie extract himself. When they broke apart, Steve felt cold again.

“That’s our boy,” Eddie chuckled, shooting Steve a lopsided smirk. He was definitely still high on painkillers.

Steve rolled his eyes and helped lower Eddie down onto his favourite pillow, the one worn down with age but all the more comfortable for it. He pulled the covers up around the boy’s shoulders.

“Yeah, our boy,” Steve echoed in a too-fond tone.

He’d never let Henderson hear the term of affection. The kid had a big enough head as it was, but in the too-quiet world of just himself and Eddie, he felt okay admitting it. Once it looked like Eddie was settled in, Steve sat on the edge of his bed, feeling as he always did, like a stranger in his own home.

“When did you last get some shut-eye, boy wonder?” Eddie asked, his foot tucking beneath Steve’s thigh.

Friday. What day was it? Sunday. Not good.

“Well, come on then, don’t make a guy beg. Lay down, Steve. It’s your bed. I could sleep in the spare room if it’s a problem.” There was something cautious about the offer Steve didn’t understand.

He flopped down beside Eddie, so close the two shared a pillow. It changed the shape of the thing. It made the familiar strange.

“You know, I had this dream last night,” Eddie began, his dark eyes still open, glued to the ceiling. He cringed, knowing all the ways dreams could go bad, but Eddie shook his head.

“Not that kind of dream,” He insisted, his hands balling into fists on the bedsheets.

“I had a dream I was a pinball machine,” the boy stated plainly. The absurdity of the statement shocked a laugh out of Steve.

“These painkillers are legit, Harrington,” Eddie spoke, shooting Steve a sidelong glance.

“What kind of pinball machine?”

“You know the Centaur one? It’s black and white, mostly. The arts got this topless guy who’s half man, half motorbike,” Eddie explained.

Steve had no idea what he was saying, but it was nice to hear him talk.

“Wait, if you were the pinball machine, how did you know what you looked like?”

“Great question Steven. I’ve got no clue. Dream logic,” Eddie reasoned.

Steve screwed up his nose at the use of his full name. Only his dad called him Steven. Eddie raised a brow, seeming to take note. One of them had shifted closer. Steve wasn’t sure who. Eddie’s hand brushed against his side as he played with the sheets.

“Remind me again why I needed to know about your pinball dream?” Steve asked. The sound of the wind in the trees outside his bedroom window set his teeth on edge.

“Because you’re too damn serious and I thought it’d make you smile... Which it did.” Eddie added the last part in quietly and Steve rolled his eyes.

Eddie craned his head to look around Steve’s room before screwing up his nose.

“Anyone ever told you your wallpaper is gaudy as hell? Your curtains match your walls. Dude, I thought rich people were meant to have taste,” he observed, the boys’ shoulders pressed together.

“This coming from the guy who eats cereal out of the box with his hands,” Steve countered, no heat in his voice.

“Are you still mad I used to stand on your lunch table?” Eddie muttered, shoving Steve’s shoulder before tensing. When had Steve last checked his dressings?

He flipped the bedside lamp on, leaning over Eddie to do so. He’d been helping the guy shower for days now. Privacy was a word reserved for other people. Intimacy was a necessity.

“Once you stood in my mashed potatoes. It was disgusting,” Steve uttered, gently peeling up the hem of Eddie’s tee shirt. Really, it was Steve’s, but it seemed strange to make distinctions.

Eddie’s eyes trailed down to Steve’s fingers, half-hooded and slowed with sleep or inebriation, Steve didn’t know which. He wondered how much of all this Eddie would remember when he got better. He would get better.

“You never ate the potatoes. You’d bring your stupid bagels from home,” Eddie remarked, as Steve carefully unwound the bandage and gauze. It was stained brown with dried blood, but it looked better than it’d been a few days before, no longer as red or swollen.

The bagel comment made Steve look up. Seemed like Robin wasn’t the only one that’d been watching him. Maybe Eddie had a crush on Tammy Thompson, too. Maybe it was something else. Steve’s friends had crappy taste in women. Eddie could do better.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Eddie questioned, noticing Steve’s sudden silence.

He cleaned the wounds as best he could. Eddie’s fingers had found their way to Steve’s thigh, gripping so tight he thought it would bruise. It would be another to add to the collection. Steve hadn’t been thinking of how his battle wounds were healing. He was in triage mode. Eddie’s wounds were worse than his.

“We're going to have to amputate,” Steve deadpanned as he found the first aid kit he’d hidden beneath his bed years before, starting to redress the wound.

“How the hell can you amputate a side?” Eddie asked with a shaky laugh, his breathing more ragged again.

“Well, you see, there’s this new experimental procedure that lets you transplant your brain into a pinball machine,” Steve began and felt Eddie’s elbow in his side.

“Screw you.”

Steve laid back beside Eddie, less space between them than before, if it was at all possible. They braced against each other, the contact grounding Steve. Eddie was alive. He was alive. Maybe one day they could look at each other and not think about death. That day wasn’t today, but Steve could hope for it.

As Eddie drifted to sleep, his head fell on Steve’s shoulder. He wouldn’t sleep for long that night, but he was used to that. He knew the weeks and months after a run-in with the Upside Down were full of fitful sleep and nightmares, but they never lasted.

On a long enough timeline, you could get used to anything. It was strange how short that timeline was when it came to getting used to Eddie.

More days came and went with the same imperfect routines. The two boys woke at all hours of the night and spent the daylight hours behind closed curtains, trying to heal.

By the third day, Steve got sick of the quiet. A sombre mood hung over them, shifting and changing like the phases of the moon. It never entirely disappeared, but there were moments it seemed almost absent.

One of these such moments arose when Steve hijacked the boombox from the living room and dragged it upstairs to his bedroom, where a slowly healing Eddie sat bored out of his mind, aching and itchy. Steve knew the feeling. The wound on his neck had scabbed and begun to fade into a scar.

“Hey, Munson?” Steve spoke, sitting beside Eddie, spreading his tape collection between them.

“You wanna hear some real music?” He asked, watching Eddie’s nose scrunch and his teeth worry away at his bottom lip.

“These are all horrible, Harrington.”

Eddie turned over several cassettes in his hand, treating them gently as though they were something special.

“You have every WHAM! album, dude. The Outfield. Halls & Oats. Tears for Fears,” Eddie listed off, his tone one of disgust.

“You’re going to have to pick something, or I’ll pick WHAM! out of spite.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and shuffled through the tapes, tossing one Steve’s way.

“Bowie isn’t horrible,” Eddie mumbled as Steve placed The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, into the player.

The two sat shoulder to shoulder, as always, listening to the quiet swell of drums. Steve realised too late it was a song about the end of the world. He realised, later still, that it was a love song. Eddie’s fingers drummed against his knee. Steve tried to ignore the way the action made his heart swell.

Steve couldn’t sit still any longer as Moonaged Daydream began. He remembered another life in Nancy Wheeler’s garage, asking her to pretend things were normal for a couple of hours. God, he wanted that. He needed a few normal hours.

He wasn’t the same person he’d been back then, but parts of him had stayed the same. He didn’t know how to change them. Nancy Wheeler faced problems head-on, but Steve? The passage of time had taught him how to stand his ground in the face of danger, but he hadn’t yet learned how to stop being chased.

He caught Eddie’s eye and watched as a wicked grin spread across his face. Without words, he knew exactly what Steve was about to do. He grabbed the nail bat he kept by the bed, the same one from the Wheeler’s garage and sang, using the gnarly weapon as his makeshift microphone. He was a little too loud and a little off-tune. He sang about alligators and space invaders, lyrics he knew off by heart, without understanding them.

He watched as a grin threatened to crack Eddie’s face in two. There was a reckless abandon to his smile. It was different from the glazed-eyed, half-high smiles of the past week. His eyes were keen and sharp as he watched Steve fling himself across the room in the way only someone who’d learned to dance drunk could.

By the time the album finished, he’d worked up a sweat. Eddie joined in, singing a couple of lines when he could before tugging Steve back to bed, his hand in Steve’s hair, smoothing it back in place. The action was intimate, yet familiar.

“Alright, Starman. Maybe Bowie doesn’t suck so hard, but when I’m not on the run from the law, I’m going to show you what real music sounds like.”

“Promise?” Steve asked, his chest heaving.

Then, Eddie did something so unlike anything the populous of Hawkins would expect. To them, he was a Satanist and a murderer. Steve had always known better, but he’d seen Eddie as a wildcard. He was loud and rough around the edges, but he also had the capability of being endearing when the moment called for it. Still, Steve had never expected Eddie to roll over, extend his pinkie and link their little fingers together.

“I promise,” He assured, placing his lips to the knuckle of his thumb as though sealing the deal.

The action was equal parts childlike and intense. Steve looked down at their interlaced fingers and knew he was in over his head. Warmth pooled in Steve’s fingertips.

“Eds, I—,” A knock at the downstairs door made the words die on Steve’s lips. The boys pulled apart. Steve was cold.

“I’ll get it,” Steve spoke, picking up the discarded nail bat and trudging down the stairs.

He hoped it was one of the door-knocking jocks. Some primal part of him felt like hitting something. Years before, he would have questioned if he was the kind of person who could do it, but now he knew he could.

Steve clutched at the bat hidden behind his back as he swung open the door, coming face-to-face with an older man dressed in too-short jean shorts, holding an armful of paper bags. He looked familiar. He’d seen the man with Hopper. A furrow etched its way onto his brow.

“Aren’t you going to let your beloved uncle in, Steve?” The man spoke, loud enough for the people in the next neighbourhood to hear.

“Right,” Steve mumbled, pushing the door open and stepping to the side.

The man walked through the house as though he’d grown up within their walls, dropping the paper bags on the countertop, switching on the lights and examining the space.

“Hopper sent me with supplies. It’d draw too much attention having the feds at your front door, but a visit from your favourite Uncle Murray? That’s incognito. I’ve got groceries and painkillers, slipped in some vodka too, on the house. Personally, I was thinking of making my homemade ravioli for dinner. Trust me, it’s to die for. Where’s the other one by the way?” The man, Murray, breathed, spinning on his heels to examine the interior of the house. Steve let his nail bat fall to the floor.

“You really should invest in a gun, kid...Was I interrupting something?” The older man asked, gesturing absentmindedly to his balding head. Steve touched his hair and found it still out of place. He ran his fingers through it in an attempt to tame it.

“No, we... I was sleeping. Eddie’s upstairs. I think he’s okay, but I could use another set of eyes. I don’t know exactly what I’m doing here. Are you staying?”

“I’m just staying for dinner. It’d look strange if your uncle only showed up for a few minutes, wouldn’t it?” Steve didn’t dignify that with an answer.

“There’s the man of the hour,” Murray spoke, glancing up at the top of the staircase where Eddie stood, leaning heavily on the banister.

“What happened to staying up there?” Steve spoke through gritted teeth, making his way back up the stairs.

“You were taking too long,” Eddie muttered with an unbothered shrug.

“And if it’d been one of Jason’s asshole friends, we’d have been screwed,” Steve rebutted, letting Eddie lean on him as they made their way to Murray in the kitchen. At least he could walk.

“But it wasn’t,” Eddie huffed, his breath warm on Steve’s neck.

Steve kicked out one of the kitchen chairs and lowered Eddie into it. The older man watched them as a scientist observes a specimen. There was a morbid fascination to it.

“I see you two are getting along well,” He spoke.

He’d found where Steve’s mother had stored their pots and had begun some strange kitchen alchemy. Steve had made risotto. This guy looked like he was completing a summoning ritual. The ingredients were splayed out on the countertop like objects of adoration.

Steve sat down in the chair beside Eddie. It felt strange having someone else in the house. For what seemed like a lifetime, his world had consisted of one other person. He missed Robin, Dustin, and the rest of the kids, but he hadn’t let himself dwell on it. He’d known their isolation couldn’t last forever, but he’d never have guessed Murray would be the first person he’d see.

“Tense mood. Why is it I always end up in the middle of couples in denial?” Murray breathed to himself.

Eddie’s head snapped up with a speed Steve hadn’t seen him manage all week. Steve didn’t look at Murray, he was too busy trying to unpick the pained look on Eddie’s face. His eyes searched the boy’s body for some torn open wound he’d missed.

“What? Don’t look so surprised. Contrary to what kids these days think, we did have homosexuality in the sixties,” Murray informed before pausing. He gave Steve a once-over that made his skin crawl. He felt as though he were a bug, pinned beneath a glass plate.

“And bisexuality,” He clarified.

Steve averted his eyes and reached over to squeeze Eddie’s knee. He was hopelessly lost in the conversation, but he knew something was wrong with Eddie. The boy jumped at the sudden contact and Steve pulled his hand away as though burnt.

“So, what’s the problem? Still in denial?” Murray asked, levelling Steve with a knowing look. He scowled back at the man, ready for him to leave.

“No. I think you know how you feel, maybe even how he feels.” Steve didn’t know how to respond.

“You, however,” Murray continued, turning his attention to Eddie, the boiling pot on the stove, forgotten.

“I don’t think you have a clue. Self-esteem issues, maybe. You try to hide it, but you couldn’t imagine that someone in a house like this would look at you twice.”

“What the hell, man?” Eddie breathed with a huff of indignation. Murray showed no signs of stopping. His eyes were back on Steve.

“So, what’s holding you back? You got your heart broken after Nancy Wheeler. Let me guess, you keep saying how much you want commitment, but you keep dating the wrong people, people who don’t want to be tied down. That, my boy, is self-sabotage and him,” Murray spoke, indicating Eddie with a wooden spoon he’d been using to stir the rice.

“He looks like a long-haul kind of guy.”

“Dude,” Eddie interjected.

“What? You’re both obviously attracted to one another. Don’t lie. I have eyes. You’re telling me that all this near-death stuff hasn’t made you re-evaluate your life a little? It’s just been you two, locked away together at the end of the world, helping each other heal. Seeking comfort in one another. You’ve got shared trauma. That kind of thing bonds you for life.”

“Leave it alone,” Steve said, standing as he spoke. The chair scraped on the tile floor. A nails on a chalkboard kind of sound.

Steve pushed past the older man, pulled the pot off the stove, and let a tense silence settle over the three of them. The subsequent dinner dragged on in uncomfortable silence. Steve and Eddie kept their eyes glued to their plates. Murray talked but neither paid attention. He gave Eddie’s wounds a once over, appearing as lost as Steve. He didn’t seem concerned, so Steve took it as a good thing.

He thought he’d known what tense silence between himself, and Eddie felt like, but he’d known nothing compared to the moment Murray left. His whole body was on edge. Eddie wouldn’t meet his eyes. They needed to talk, but neither wanted to be the first to cave.

“I was thinking of turning in early,” Steve spoke, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah. Me too.”

The boys lay side by side, but sleep didn’t come. Eddie’s body was wound tight as a tourniquet. This time, Steve was the one bleeding out.

He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. Maybe that he was sorry. Murray was right. Steve had known Eddie liked him and he hadn’t said anything because it wasn’t a problem he could throw himself in front of. It’d be easier if he thought telling Eddie would end up with him getting hit. There were worse things.

Eddie’s feelings had become more apparent as their time together wore on, but on some level, Steve had known long before. When Eddie had leaned over into his space smelling of cigarette ash, dried earth and sweat and called Steve some god-awful pet name, he’d known. He also knew the feelings weren’t one-sided.

That revelation came later. Eddie had been fading in and out of consciousness. Steve had shaken him awake to redress his wounds when it happened. The boy awoke, shooting him a lopsided grin, gazing at Steve with his drowsy, doe eyes.

He’d crooned, ‘Good morning sunshine’. And that had been enough.

Steve’s heart had stuttered to a halt as it had all the times before when a pretty girl had called him a prettier name.

As much as Steve hated to admit it, Murray had been right about a lot of things. There was one thing Steve desperately wanted him to be wrong about.

He and Eddie were bonded because of what they’d been through. That’s what the man had said. Shared trauma. Was that all they were?

Steve was back in the bathroom with Nancy, her white shirt, red. The whites of his eyes the moment she left, red.

He knew where shared trauma got him. He’d try to bury it. To move past it. He wanted to be more than what was done to him. People would say he was running. He was bullshit.

How was he meant to sit with the kind of stuff he and Eddie had been through? How was he meant to fight it? Would Steve always look at Eddie and see his death? Would Eddie always look at Steve and feel like dying?

“I wished I’d met you later,” Steve spoke to the dark room. Eddie’s locked body loosened, and as it did, he started to shake. In a moment, he’d start to bleed too.

“You know, normally people say they wished they’d met you sooner.”

“I mean... I wish we’d met after everything with The Upside Down. That you hadn’t gotten dragged into it. I wish that we’d gotten to know each other the normal way,” Steve explained. Eddie snorted.

“Can you imagine me doing anything the normal way?” He had a point.

Steve didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say. The silence was back, looming large as a lunar eclipse.

“You aren’t... weirded out by what he said? About me liking you?” Eddie’s voice was small. The only time Steve heard Eddie whisper was when he was dying.

“I think he also said something about me liking you back,” Steve replied, glancing at Eddie’s profile only to find the man was already watching him. His face was contorted in confusion.

“Then... what’s the problem here, Stevie?”

Steve had never been good with his words.

“What if we’ve ruined it?” He tried. At seeing a frown cross Eddie’s face, he knew he hadn’t done a good enough job at explaining.

“With what’s happened between me and you. You never would’ve looked at me twice if I hadn’t saved you, and what if that’s all we’ve got? Shared trauma.”

Bullshit. What if all they had was bullshit? Eddie finally understood.

“I don’t like you because you saved me, Steve. I like you because despite all the terrible shit you make me want to laugh. I love that you’re shit at dancing, but you do it anyway. Also, screw that guy your risotto is better than his. You’re a good cook. Your stupid hair makes me want to slam my head in a car door and before you say anything, that’s a compliment. You care so damn much about everyone.” To Steve’s surprise, Eddie’s hand reached up to touch his cheek.

“I don’t like you because we’ve been through bad shit together. I like you because you make me feel like one day, we’re going to get out on the other side of it, that things aren’t going to be like this forever,” Eddie finished.

Steve’s heart was a cardinal, beating itself bloody against a windowpane.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve breathed. For the first time in a long time, he was nervous.

Eddie’s smile was a lightning strike, bright, beautiful and something they’d shape gods after.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Eddie’s lips were warm.

2K notes · View notes

comfort-character-central · 3 months

Text

I want to reverse the role for my comfort character or f/o. I want to make them feel loved, special, and appreciated. I want to hold them close and tell them how much they mean to me. I want to spend time with them and allow them to open up and trust me. I want to support them when times get hard and celebrate with them when things are greater than they've ever been. I want to be my f/o's safe space, I want to show them true comfort and acceptance, because they deserve it.

#f/o community #f/o positivity #f/o x s/i #f/o imagines #comfort character imagines #imagine your fictional other #self ship #f/o prompts #comfort character #fictional other

765 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

flynnparadox

Untitled

yourlocallygrowngay

current obsession: rdr2

faltadeinteres

melaninonpointsblog-blog

Unbetitelt

airbrushart

Untitled