#and when i was leaving the house i stepped into a puddle in the bathroom because something's fucked up AGAIN

[daycourtofficial]

Worms, worms, worms!

Pairing: Modern!Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1.2k | warnings: none

Summary: Eris's son Atlas is finally asking the important questions about life and how far his dad’s love extends

Author’s note: and that’s a wrap on @erisweekofficial for me!!! Had to end it with this idea from @pit-and-the-pen. I had a lot of fun. I posted 32.7k worth of words about this ginger man who won’t leave me alone (and probably have 10k worth of words sitting in my drafts that I didn’t finish).

It had been raining for three days in Autumn. Eris woke up to a small body tackling him, giggles filling his ears as a tiny but loud voice screamed in his ear, “worms!”

Eris quickly clamped a hand over the toddler’s mouth, looking over to find his mate still snoring lightly. He looked back at his son, hand still clamped to his mouth but he felt the grin beneath it.

“Let me get dressed and I’ll find you in your room.”

That was not a suitable answer for Atlas, who was currently in a phase where being away from either of his parents was considered cruel and unusual punishment. His little lip wobbled, tears quickly springing to his eyes before Eris realized his error.

“You can stay as I dress if you are quiet and do not disturb your mother.”

His whispered words were stern, but Atlas nodded and Eris removed his hand from the toddler’s mouth. He walked backwards, watching Atlas cuddle up in his spot on the bed, his little body wanting to cuddle up to his mother.

Unfortunately for Atlas, you had spent the night throwing up, and in a hormonal fit banned Eris from the bathroom. He couldn’t decide what was worse - comforting you while having to watch you vomit or having to listen to you throw up in the comfort of his bed.

The two of you were still trying to figure out when to tell Atlas his reign as the youngest Vanserra was coming to an end, but there was still time before you began showing. You hardly showed at all while pregnant with Atlas - maybe Eris would be lucky and not have to tell Atlas until the babe arrived and then his son would be so enamored with the thing he wouldn’t have time to be upset. Atlas loved his cousin, Nyx, but there was no telling how he’d respond to another child around permanently.

Eris pushed away his doubts and scooped Atlas into his arms. He carried him through the door and down the hall back into Atlas’s room before setting him down on his bed. The miniature version of himself looked up at him, a tiny furrow in his brow.

“Worms are outside, Dada.”

“Yes, but if you want to find worms, you have to dress for worms, not wear your pajamas.”

Eris moved through the drawers, finding clothes for Atlas to wear, as well as his raincoat and mud boots. It took several minutes of wrangling and holding him down to get his son dressed, but he looked adorable in the bright yellow raincoat. The hood of it even had tiny eyes and a bill sewn into it, courtesy of his Aunt Elain. 

The day Atlas grew out of loving ducks would be a very sad day for Prythian. 

The two walked down the hall, or at least they attempted to. Atlas’s boots made him waddle ever so slightly when he got too fast, which was very often as they got closer and closer to being outside. They went to the back of the house, Atlas’s boots squelching with each step in the wet ground. Beyond the house, just before the trees, was a clearing that Atlas has figured out is the perfect spot to go hunting for worms. The land was full of mud - occasional hoof marks and carriage tracks, but the air smelled of fresh rain and dirt.

Eris turned his head just in time to hear a plop as he watched Atlas sit in the largest puddle he could find, sticking his tiny fingers into the mud, squishing the mud in his fist as he giggled in happiness. Eris hiked up his pants before crouching down next Atlas, balancing on his heels as he helped Atlas dig in the dirt. A short silence overtook the pair interrupted only by a soft squeal and wet dirt being flung into the air, thankfully in the direction away from Eris. 

“Atlas.” Eris’s voice was stern, a sheepish look on his son’s face. “We’ve talked about this.”

“No throwing dirt.”

Atlas was an easily excited child. He loved all things in nature and oftentimes was not wholly aware of his surroundings, leading to several people having what is now commonly known as ‘Atlas dirt incidents’. Whenever they would complain to Eris, he would look down his nose at them and ask, “why were you standing so close to a boy playing in the mud?”

Eris continued helping Atlas dig through the mud, his soft squeals of excitement reminding him of Clover’s new litter of pups that happened to coincide with this newest babe. The pup will be six months older than this new addition, plenty of time for Eris to train them a good bit. 

Atlas’s own dog, Pumpkin, had remained inside - usually as rambunctious as Atlas, it was a funny sight how the rain caused him to cease all interest in expending any energy. He was likely sprawled across Atlas’s bed, the wetness in the air outside keeping him asleep.

Atlas's small hand had formed a fist in the mud, the ends of a few worms wriggling, attempting to escape his clutches. Eris lightly grabbed his son’s hand, trying to get him to relax his grasp. He often got so excited over the worms he found, he would inadvertently squeeze them to death. The tears that formed from that seemed to last for a week, his son’s voice trembling as he asked over and over again if he was getting banished to Illyria for being a worm slayer.

It would be funny if Eris didn’t have to be the one consoling Atlas.

“You love me, right Dada?”

“More than you know.”

Eris held onto a few of the worms so his son could look at each worm individually. As if he were inspecting them, his eyes assessed each worm with intense focus, before he would proudly proclaim the worm’s name. Last time they did this, Atlas named seven worms - three were named Pumpkin, two were named Mama, and two were named Dada. Despite his many talents, Atlas wasn’t very creative with worm names.

“What if I was a worm?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue, the resolute what a silly question, why would you be a worm? But Atlas’s big eyes looked up at him, dulling his sharp tongue. He kept Atlas’s gaze, trying to soften his own and smiled.

“Very much.”

Atlas would tell you later on about this and you would spend all week teasing Eris by asking, “would you love me if I were a tea kettle?” and “what if I were a cow, hmm?” You would tease, despite the fact that Eris was sure you had asked him your own fair share of silly questions. 

That’s okay. He’d take the teasing. He’d carry you and Atlas around in his pockets, providing fresh dirt every day if he had to. He’d do anything to make the two of you happy, including indulging his toddler’s questions about life as a worm.

He would love a worm if it would spare his son a moment of heartache.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

Thanks for reading❣️

[kenananamin]

Fun-sized best friend

Summary: After seeing you cry at a post about a dog being put down soon, Nanami reaches out to adopt the dog. It'd be the first time you both have a pet together, but it should be fine... right? fluff fluff fluff, nanami x fem!reader

Nanami is driving back home while you giggle in the passengers seat. You're holding a fluffy dog that is wriggling all over your lap and licking anything around it.

He looks over at your happy face and smiles, but looks down to the dog and sighs. You were on the verge of tears last night after seeing an ad for the dog. She's a three-legged dog who was removed from her previous owner's care. She had a couple more days before she would be put down and that last detailed pushed you over the edge of teary eyes. Nanami comforted you as best he could and messaged the account while you showered. After he heard the water turn off, he entered the bathroom and told you the news about the dog no longer being put down because she'd have a home soon.

Seeing your happiness in the car told him he made the right decision but this was the first time he'd adopted a dog. Nanami always considered himself a cat person but he would do anything for you... including trying to adjust to a hyper dog.

"This shouldn't be too hard," you tell Nanami after seeing his nervous glances towards your new companion, "she's only got three legs."

Nanami looks over half in horror and half in surprise that you'd say something like that.

His reaction makes you burst out in laughter, "I'm kidding! I'm really kidding! But we will be fine, she'll have so much love and attention and everything she needs. I'll give her everything I can," you lean to hold his hand, "thank you Ken. Really, thank you."

Nanami intertwines his fingers with yours and smiles back, "Love you, darling."

———

Nanami opens the fridge to grab Emi's food. You called to let him know you were going to be home late and asked if he could feed Emi and take her on her walk. He looks down to see her looking up at him and patiently waiting. Emi was very calm around Nanami and would quietly follow him around compared to running circles around you.

Emi finishes her food and Nanami grabs the harness. She starts jumping after seeing the harness and it takes him a second to put it on. Emi pulls their way out the door and Nanami hurries to lock the door and start their first walk without you.

You come home and hear Nanami grunting in the bathroom.

"No!" Nanami yells followed by quick steps.

Emi runs out the bathroom, shaking the water off her and running towards you. Nanami throws the door open, the bottom of his shirt and parts of his pants completely soaked.

"Were you bathing Emi?" You ask while you rub and pat your fun-sized best friend.

Nanami sighs and puts his hands on his hips, "Yeah, she saw a puddle and decided to jump in and got us both dirty."

You laugh and stand up to go give Nanami a hug and kiss. Emi lays down and starts rubbing all over the small living room carpet while mom and dad have a moment.

———

"I'm so sorry, all these deadlines are killing the team."

Nanami nods as he watches you rub your eyes on your facetime call, "It's ok, but can you call me as soon as you're leaving? Or call me if it gets too late, I'll pick you up and we'll get your car later."

"I'll call you when I'm done. I love you, Kenny. Byee my wittle Emi, mommy wuves youuu!!" You hang up the call and Nanami looks over to the dog that seems to be smiling.

"How come you get the baby voice?" Nanami and Emi stare at each other until she moves onto his lap. Nanami keeps staring and slowly lifts his hand to pet her.

The house is dark when you open the door. You got out much later than expected and walk into the living room to see a sleeping Kento sprawled on the couch and Emi tucked into his side. Emi was awake and looking at you, but did not move from her cuddle. You grab the blanket draped behind the other couch and cover your two loves.

———

You wake up early Saturday to a quiet house. Nanami had been taking Emi to her morning walks alone to let you sleep in after your long work days. It had been over two weeks since your team had to absorb another team's workload after that team was dissolved. It would only be a few more days of this and then you'd be back to your regular schedule.

Nanami and Emi come back home while you're making your tea.

"Welcome home!" You yell out as Emi runs to you while her whole body moves with her waggling tail. Nanami follows suit and goes to kiss your forehead. He's holding a large paper bag, bulky with whatever was inside.

You raise your eyebrows at the bag and Nanami puts it down on the counter, "We went to the pet store for another harness since she's outgrowing this one."

"That looks like much more than a harness," you laugh and peek into the bag, "toys? Ken, is this whole bag is full of dog toys??!"

Nanami freezes and slowly backs away from the bag and you, "Emi kept looking at them. She likes toys." He whispered and Emi stands on her leg to lick his hand.

You stare at the frozen man and dog who left your side for his. You sit on the floor to call Emi back over, but she looks between you and Nanami and sits by his side. Your jaw drops and Nanami leans down to carefully push Emi to you.

———

You park your car and lean your head back. Finally, you were finally back home at a regular time. You pick up the grocery bags and start to head inside, excited to surprise Nanami with the first full dinner you've made in weeks.

You open the front door, smiling at the thought of his surprised face as you come home early. You see Kento and Emi sitting on the couch. His face definitely expressed that he was surprised... but so were you.

Kento was holding Emi on his lap, fixing a homemade matching collar and tie on her neck. He froze with his hands around her neck when he heard the door start to open. He opens his mouth to try to explain what's happening but you fall to your knees with the grocery bags, cackling at the scene.

There are scraps of fabric, scissors and a sewing kit on the center table. You can't see much besides that past the tears in your eyes and you fall to your back and hold your face in your hands, trying to control the laughter.

"I can explain," Nanami says from the couch but it makes you laugh even harder.

Emi walks to you and you finally sit up to closely look at Nanami's work of art. You knew he was good at sewing as he's helped fix a couple things before but this was something you could have never imagined he would make.

"I was fixing my tie this morning and she was sitting in front of me, staring. I don't know why but I started wondering what she'd look like with a little tie so I went to the store during my lunch break and started making this..." Nanami sits beside you on the floor as he explains. You pet Emi with one hand and hold the handmade tie with the other.

He used his lunch break to buy and start making this. You were so convinced when he adopted Emi that he'd just take a backseat with raising and taking care of her, which you were fine with since you both knew you were the dog person in this relationship. Seeing him do so much for her made you laugh at your initial thoughts but it warmed your heart to see so much love for the fur bundle you both considered your fun-sized best friend.

"You know, seeing you both with ties makes me realize you look so much alike," you tell Nanami as you straighten Emi's collar.

"She's got my tie but she's got your eyes," Kento gets closer, holds your neck and leans in to kiss you.

You slap his chest at his comment but he laughs and continues to kiss you as you both shift on the floor to face each other. Emi starts to jump between the both of you and barks for your attention. Nanami grabs a nearby toy without backing away from the kiss and throws it across the room to distract Emi.

Nanami breaks the kiss and looks into your eyes, "I didn't get to say it earlier, but welcome home, baby. We're happy to have you home on time."

The fact that he includes Emi on the statement and says they're both happy makes you laugh yet again. Emi runs back with her toy and is back to jumping around the both of you. There really is no place like home.

a/n: I can see nanami doing something like this too in the story lol

Picture found here

[jobean12-blog]

In It for the Long Ride

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (Biker!Joel AU)

Word Count: 1,656

Summary: Joel is out for the night and when he returns early and wants you to leave work and come home you know something isn't right.

Author's Note: Just because I love him and missed him and this seems like something that could really happen when you're with a biker. PS our sweet little black kitten Ink is here too- she's getting big and just loves Joel of course! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff, little angst sprinkled in here and there, mentions of blood but very light

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

“Joel just text me that he’s here.”

You look at your friend Jade with worried eyes.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t he going to come in?” she asks.

“He said he can’t come in. He wants to know if I can leave now.”

“Of course you can babe,” Jade says quickly. “Dan and I will be fine tonight.”

“Are you sure…I don’t know what’s goin…”

“Don’t worry,” Jade assures you. “Just go to him. I’m sure everything is fine.”

You nod with a hard swallow and rush to the back to gather your things, texting Joel as you go that you’ll be right out.

Your legs are slightly shaky as you approach the door, a feeling of dread weighing you down with each step.

At first you don’t see him but then you hear the rev of his engine and your gaze is drawn to his bike. He’s parked across the street with his headlights off.

“Joel?” you question when you reach his bike.

He holds his arms out for you and you rush into them, burying your face in his neck.

“What’s going on?” you mumble into his skin.

“Let’s go home,” he says quietly.

You pull back to look at him and let out a gasp.

“Oh my god, what happened? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine darlin.’ Really I am. Just need a little help gettin’ cleaned up.”

Your eyes instantly well with tears and you lift your finger to gently brush it across his bruised cheek.

“Aw angel, no tears. I promise it’s nothin’.”

“But Joel…you’re bleeding and bruised…”

The tears roll down your cheeks, hot and wet, and his hands cup your face, thumbs sweeping across your skin to wipe them away.

“Are you ok to drive? Should we take the car? Do you need a doctor?”

Your questions come out in a rush and your voice is high pitched with worry.

He shakes his head no and the side of his mouth twitches with a smile.

“No. Just need you.”

You study him, your eyes lingering on his face until you whisper, “ok, let’s go home.”

He takes his helmet from the handlebars and secures it on your head before unzipping his leather jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“Let’s zip this up. It’s chilly tonight,” he says.

“Shouldn’t I be taking care of you?”

“You always do darlin’.”

He kisses you softly on the side of the mouth and then helps you onto the back of his bike.

The ride home is short, less than ten minutes, but in that time the wind picks up and sky opens up with rain.

As you near the house the headlights from his bike reflect off the growing puddles on the street and you shiver against his back.

He pulls over and kills the engine, holding out his hand for you to hop off. He tucks you protectively under his arm and walks you to the door.

“I hope you didn’t get too wet angel,” he says.

“I’m fine,” you say as you walk in and turn on the light.

You turn to him and fresh tears fill your eyes.

“Let me just get us towels and the first aid kit. Don’t move.”

You rush off to the bathroom just as Ink hops off the ledge of the front window. She meows at Joel and then starts to rub between his legs.

“Hey, you,” he says as he picks up the small black cat.

Her tiny pink nose delicately explores his chin before she reaches up with a paw and softly presses it to his cheek.

“Don’t be worried like your mama. I’m fine,” he tells the cat.

“She knows you’re hurt,” you say when you return and find the two of them standing by the door staring at each other.

You take his free hand and walk him toward the couch.

“You might have to set her down for a minute. I want to get your wet shirt off.”

He puts the cat down on the couch and then grabs the hem of his shirt.

“Wait,” you say quietly. “Let me. Please.”

He drops the material and looks at you with big brown eyes.

“Ok angel. Whatever you want.”

“Lift your arms,” you instruct him as you start to peel his shirt up and off.

Inch by inch his wet skin is revealed, his tattoos along with it and you find yourself inspecting every inch of him for more injuries before gently pressing the towel to his chest. You do nothing to hide your shameless perusal of him and he’s clearly enjoying it, his eyes sparkling and his lips turned up into a boyish smirk.

“Anything else hurt?”

“Nah, but you can keep checkin’ all ya want.”

He winks at you when you look up at him with narrowed eyes.

“Ok sit and tell me what happened.”

He sits with a plop and extends his arm to pet Ink while you start to work off his boots.

“I can do that angel, it’s no…”

When your eyes meet his he clamps his mouth shut, only opening it again to explain that some out of town biker gang had started some trouble with him and the boys. No of the boys were hurt more than some bumps, scrapes and bruises but the other guys weren’t as lucky.

“Thank goodness it wasn’t any worse,” you sigh. “I got so scared when you said you wanted me to come home and all. I figured you would come in and have a drink…”

“I know darlin.’ I’m sorry I scared you. I knew I couldn’t go in the bar lookin’ like this though.”

“It’s ok. Just promise me you’ll always be careful.”

“Always,” he whispers.

After you have his boots off and dry socks on you stand and straddle his lap, settling your knees on either side of his waist and taking a smaller towel to run through his hair.

You then comb your fingers through the wet strands and give it a slicked back style. He raises a brow when you smirk and drag your teeth over your bottom lip.

“What?” he asks.

“Looks really good.”

“Yeah angel? Even with the blood?”

“Somehow it makes it even hotter…but I’m still so upset you’re hurt.”

“I’m ok.”

“You keep saying that.”

“But I am darlin.’ Honestly, couldn’t be better at the moment.”

His hands slide along your thighs and then settle on your waist. He pulls you closer and runs his nose along the column of you neck to breathe you in.

“Don’t you dare,” you gasp. “I have to patch you up first.”

“Mm hm,” he murmurs as his lips press to your skin and his fingers dance higher.

You flatten your palms on his chest and give him a light shove, giggling when he looks at you with pouty lips.

After a soft kiss you get the first aid kit and start to clean the cut above his eye and the one on his lip. When you press the antiseptic to the wound he winces, leaving his eyes closed as you continue to carefully wipe each spot.

You inspect every area of his face, especially focusing on the skin beneath his beard, lovingly caressing the gray spots as you go. He relaxes into your touch and you let your fingers gently trace his features.

“All clean,” you whisper.

You hand him the small ice pack you got from the freezer. “Hold this on your cheek.”

“But my hands are busy,” he sighs.

His hands graze the skin beneath your shirt, calloused thumbs caressing the softness before they inch higher.

“You only need one hand for this,” you lightly chide.

His eyes pop open and he gives you a stern look. “Fine.”

You bat your lashes at him and wait until he has the ice pack pressed to his cheek.

“Just until I finish up.”

You put medicine on the cut above his eye and one butterfly stitch then clean up the dried blood on his knuckles.

“You must have gotten a pretty good punch in.”

You can see his muscles tense when you press the pad to his bruised knuckles.

“You bet I did angel,” he boasts. “And that’d be plural…punches.”

When you meet his eyes he winks again and throws you a smug grin.

You kiss it right off his lips then smudge some medicine on his knuckles. He immediately puts down the ice pack and places his hands back on your body.

“That could probably stay on a bit longer,” you tsk.

“Later,” he murmurs.

Ink walks along the back of the couch and sits herself down right behind Joel. She blinks at you several times then starts to swat at the curls of hair at the back of his neck.

“She likes them almost as much as I do,” you tease.

“She’s just wantin’ attention,” he grumbles. “Gets that from you too.”

You shoot him an incredulous glare and then give him one more once over.

“Think I did a pretty good job,” you state.

“I feel brand new,” he says as he drags you closer and smooths his hands along the curve of your back.

When your lips meet you’re mindful of his cut but he doesn’t seem to care at all and dances one hand higher until he grabs the back of your neck and kisses you harder.

He moans into your mouth and tugs at the hem of your shirt. Your hands delve into his damp hair and then slide down to his shoulders. His bare skin is warm and when you feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers you ease away and battle with the reminder of what happened, your eyes glassy.

His large hand cradles your cheek and he smooths his nose along your jaw, bringing his lips to your ear.

“Darlin’,” he coos. “It’s all right. I’m fine…let me prove it to you.”  

@hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989

[talesofesther]

tender as the rain

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: You find Wednesday walking alone in the rain.

A/N: If you ask me what this is, I'll be inclined to punch you, lovingly. Literally the result of my boredom and procrastination. Read at your own risk.

Masterlist

Puddles of mud and water splash around your feet. You're running, or more so walking really fast. You don't want to look desperate, even if you feel it.

The woods are awfully nightmarish with the pouring rain, big drops of water hitting the leaves create sounds that get you on edge. But Wednesday is nowhere to be seen and last you knew she was looking for some old abandoned meeting house in the woods.

She can take care of herself, you know it. However, it doesn't ease the incessant beating of your heart.

You find her following footprints that you were unknowingly walking over. She greets you with a scowl, hair clinging to her forehead and raindrops trickling down her chin.

It's a little awkward, your hands rise to touch her but you stop yourself midway. For a beat, you thought Wednesday seemed confused as to why you stopped, but the look is gone before you can fully register it.

"What are you doing?" You ask a little breathlessly, tasting the rain on your lips as you speak, subtly checking her over for injuries, "the statue dedication is happening soon, you should be getting ready and not… walking in the rain."

That was a good enough excuse, right?

"I'm alright," Wednesday reassures you first, and you mentally curse the way she can read you like an open book, "I was trying to learn more about Crackstone, and following a monster."

You sigh in relief, falling into step beside her as you start walking back to town. Only then do you open your umbrella, it won't do much now that you're already soaked, but it gets Wednesday walking closer to you.

"Without me? I'm hurt," you smirk, though not as confidently as you wanted to.

"Not my fault if you were preoccupied handing out fudges with Bianca," Wednesday huffs with a bite to her tone.

She refuses to look at you, choosing instead to focus on the immensity of the trees around her. You, on the other hand, follow the path of a rogue droplet of rain with your gaze; it drips from her hair and goes all the way to the corner of her lips. You can't help but notice her sullen eyes, the purplish lips, the trembling of her hands.

She's cold. She's been out in the rain much longer than you had.

"You could've said something, I would have come with you," you tell her quietly, feeling the rain soak through your sneakers.

"I didn't need you." Wednesday is still looking away when she mumbles it, so you don't catch the turmoil in her eyes; the fact she'd rather say that, than admit she would never willingly put you in danger.

You're used to the pain that comes with loving her, "yet I'm here anyway."

—

Weathervane's bathroom doesn't offer much in terms of helping with the wet clothes that cling to your body, but it would have to do.

Yours and Wednesday's coats are draped over one of the bathroom stalls, still dripping; while you do what you can to dry the rest of your clothes and your hair with paper towels.

Wednesday sits on the sink's counter, her hands clasped together on top of her lap. She's only in her white shirt, a few buttons undone; her hair is free of braids, cascading over her shoulders in black waves to dry faster.

It's unnerving how she still refuses to look at you.

This happens sometimes, you'll do something or say something that you can't exactly pinpoint and it'll get Wednesday distancing herself.

Casting a glance at her rigid figure, you bunch up a few paper towels, dampening the edge of it and moving closer to the raven-haired girl. It's only when she looks at the general direction of your face, that you speak; "may I?"

With her nod of consent, you stand between her legs and raise the damp paper to her eyes; she closes them before you even touch her cheek, you can feel her tensing under your touch. Her skin is still cold to the touch, but not as much as it was before you got out of the rain. You refrain from wrapping her body in a hug.

You're gentle with the way you clean the smudged eyeliner from below her eyes. You can feel her breathing fanning over your lips; unsteady, heavy.

Wednesday is gripping tight onto her skirt, and you don't think she realizes the way she starts to lean into your touch.

"Maybe you don't need me," you start in a hush, not sure where you're even going with this, "but you don't need to be alone, you can choose to have someone if you want."

You turn your attention to her hair next, separating one side into three strands and carefully placing one on top of another.

"Either way," you bite your tongue, wondering if you're digging your own grave, "you can tell me to go anytime, and I will."

At last, Wednesday's midnight eyes finally find yours. She looks at you for a long time.

You're close, so close you can count each of her freckles. It feels intimate. And you don't know Wednesday realizes it too. You don't know she's never had this with anyone; that it terrifies her.

She reaches out to you then; nimble, cold fingers tracing the edge of your jaw as if you'd crumble under her touch, "I can't ask that of you."

She tugs at the lapel of your shirt before you can ask why, pulling you to her until you have to brace yourself on the edge of the counter she's sitting on. You're warm on her, a warmth she's grown obsessed with — how foolish, to think she'd be able to escape the Addams family curse.

"As much I'd prefer otherwise," Wednesday pecks the corner of your lips, a kiss that's barely there at all. You feel her words on your skin, "I need you all the time."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

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[dilflover-4ever]

Someone older 3

Josh Kiska x f!reader

wc: 2.5k

Summary: Having a crush on your best friend's older brother is normal. It is just something about an older, “cool” teenager that appealed to you in your preteen years. Almost everyone experiences this, but is it still normal when he is 8 years older? Yes, your best friend, Sam, was older than you but he was like a brother and something about Josh was so intoxicating. The crush didn’t leave when he left for college, he stayed in the back of your mind throughout all of those years. Hell he plagued your mind through your last years of highschool and first of college. So what are you supposed to do when he moves in with Sam near the college you and he attended.

Minors DNI!!!

Warnings: Angst, kissing

for more info go to master post!

a/n: Guys I'm so sorry this took so long I've been pooped these past couple weeks! So sorry, I love y'all.

~~~~~~~

During the past two weeks since Josh had ‘invaded’ his younger brother's space, you felt as if the time you spent with Josh was few and far between. After the first night you had only seen him three times, Sam of course being there all three. It wasn’t awkward with Sam there, just a little bit uncomfortable. How were you supposed to make any moves with your best friend sitting in such close proximity? Disregarding that, Josh hadn’t been holding back with feeding into your delusions. He would do small things that caused your heart to speed up like carrying you into the car to avoid puddles and letting you cuddle into his side during movie night last tuesday. He even went as far as kissing right next to your lips as a goodbye before you and Sam left to study, which could have been an accident but he never mentioned it. As you lay in bed tonight you can’t help but think about how unserious he seems with everything. Well, not unserious but he just makes it feel like it means nothing to him when it means the world to you. What if he really only sees you as a sister figure? 

Stop. These thoughts are causing an ache to arise in your head so you closed your eyes and attempted to fall asleep.

~

Waking up to the alarm coming from your phone, you rolled over in bed and tried to ignore the intruding sound. To no avail, you rolled back over and slammed your finger tip onto the screen a few times, missing the stop button the first couple, before the noise finally stopped. After adjusting to the sunlight, you got out of bed and basically crawled over to your bathroom. 

A quick rinse and morning routine left a fresh feeling and clean aura around you. Adjusting the hood on your sweatshirt you grabbed your backpack and got ready to head over to Sam’s because today was one of the days he needed a ride to campus. Finally looking at the notifications on your phone you see a text from Sam. 

Sam

Hey sorry running a bit late this morning, you can wait in the kitchen.

Remembering to grab your key to his house you left your comfortable home, promising yourself a nap after class. The walk down the hallway was quiet in the peaceful morning. After unlocking the door you pushed it in and moved towards the island, taking a seat at the stool. You grabbed your phone from your back pocket to scroll for a time passer. After a couple minutes you saw Josh’s door open down the hallway, expecting to see him, a smile grew on your face. But it fell at almost lightning speed when a short blonde walked into the kitchen, clad in what seemed to be only Josh’s shirt. She had a falter in her step when she saw you but she smiled softly at you and said good morning in a sweet soft voice. You couldn’t respond because your mouth had gone dry. Mind swirling with all kinds of thoughts as you watch her fill up a glass of water and retreat back into Josh’s room. What. The. Fuck. 

Before tears could fall onto your cheeks a voice broke the eerie silence. “Sorry about that, my alarm didn’t go off. Are you ready?” Sam questioned, unaware of the previous interaction. Not trusting your own voice you turned and nodded at him with a small smile. Driving to campus was silent. Sam had tried to engage in conversation but after you only returned a dry response he decided to sit and look out the window. Until he couldn't take it anymore and dug his nose in your business. “Y/n come on, what’s wrong? You’re never this silent in the car, you won’t even let me play music!” He exclaimed, breaking the quiet. “It’s nothing Sam, I'm okay just trust me.” You hated lying to him but how were you supposed to tell him that you were flaming with jealousy over a girl his brother had over?

You had no right to be jealous, Josh wasn’t yours and he was a grown man who could do what he wanted, but something in your heart just would not let you believe that. It was killing you from the inside, it has been so long and your heart tugged towards Josh at all times. Sam didn’t like your answer, “Don’t think you’re off the hook, we are talking about this later. But right now let me have aux.” You were satisfied with this for now, dreading the time tonight when Sam would interrogate you.

~

After hours of laying in bed trying to take that nap you promised, you decided to get up and head over to Sam’s since the nap was not an option for your running mind. You let Sam know you would be over soon as you brushed through your hair and applied some strawberry chapstick. Looking in the mirror you tried to ignore the look you were giving, that of someone recently hit by a bus. Shrugging back on your hoodie you traveled out the door. Part of you prayed Josh was elsewhere tonight, you didn’t know if you could face him without bursting. But the other part of you hoped he was inside, by himself. 

After a few soft knocks you heard shuffling on the other side before the door opened and Sam stood with a playful smile. When you didn’t smile back he stepped aside and as you walked in he pulled you into a hug. This was one of the things you loved most about your best friend, even with his somewhat bony frame, he always gave the most comforting hugs. You tried to keep your feelings at bay as he crushed you into him, but the tears that escaped and the sniffle to catch your running nose were something you couldn’t control. He pulled back with a soft look in his eye, and led you over to the couch. As he instructed you to take a seat he pulled out his lighter and pack of cigarettes. Offering you one with an eyebrow raise. You gladly accepted and inhaled deeply as he lit it for you. 

After he had taken a few hits of his own he spoke up, “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong if you don’t want to, but I would like to have an idea so maybe I could give some input.” You looked into his eyes and nodded with a grateful smile. “Thank you Sammy. I’m gonna be honest the reason is pretty ridiculous,” You started while trying to figure out how you could tell him your dilemma without giving away your fat crush on his brother. “Sam, what are you supposed to do when you are getting mixed signals from somebody and it is fucking with your head?” You figured leading with that would not give away too much. 

Before he could answer you sat up straight, a worried look on your face. “Wait, is Josh home?” you asked urgently. With a questioning look Sam shook his head no. You breathed a sigh of relief and tried not to focus on the dread in your heart, wondering if Josh was with that girl again. “Why did it matter if he was home?” Sam asked with a somewhat accusatory look. Realizing how your question could have come off you recovered with the truth. “Oh I just didn’t want him eavesdropping that's all.” You tried to force a reassuring smile but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. He seemed to believe that and continued. “Well I think if the mixed signals are fucking with you too much, then you should bring it up with that person.” You nodded but then asked, “What if that isn't an option?” He sat in thought then responded, “I think what would be best would be to try and figure out the signals by spending more time with the person. I think it would become clearer the more time you spent with them.” 

You took that as your best answer and planned to think of ways to act on this later. “Thank you Sammy, I love you so much.” You told him with true sincerity. After putting out your cigarette you leaned into Sam and let his warmth lull you to sleep. Half an hour had passed and you woke up to the front door being opened. Realizing Sam was asleep behind you, you decided not to move from your spot. Looking up at the door you noticed it was Josh coming through the front hallway. He froze upon entering the kitchen, staring at the couch. You slammed your eyes shut and hoped he hadn’t realized you were awake. As he walked away you couldn’t help but notice the defeated look on his face. What was that all about?

~

Last night you had allowed yourself to spend the night on Sam’s couch since today was saturday and you had nothing to do. While making yourself a cup of coffee you saw Sam had left a note on the counter. 

Heading out to run some errands and then meeting up with a study buddy for a while ;) I’ll see you later Y/n, let’s hangout.  - Sammy

You added the creamer to your coffee and went to sit on the couch, resting in between the pillows you stole from Sam’s bed last night. After around twenty minutes you set your now empty coffee mug on the coffee table and continued the magazine that had found its way into Sam’s mail. The silence was peaceful and you allowed your mind to rest. You hadn’t thought about Josh or your situation all morning, until Josh came to make coffee a couple minutes ago and had only given a small greeting and a fleeting smile. You tried to let the interaction sit for a little until you stood, letting Sam’s throw blanket fall to your feet. The very soft music and sound of a drawer being shut coming from Josh’s room let you know he was still awake. You tapped a soft knock onto his door and pushed it slightly open after hearing his soft ‘come in’. 

You stood in the doorframe, staring at his bare back as he put away some laundry. He finally met your eyes after placing the last of the clothing into the dresser. You took the time to take in his room, mainly the smell. It was so manly yet so soft, so welcoming. Why did that girl get to experience sleeping in here before me? That thought brought you back to why you came in here as you brought your eyes to meet his again. “Hey,” you started, in a light voice. “Goodmorning y/n, you can come sit down if you’d like.” He responded. y/n? He never called you that. A hurt look flashed on your face and he looked down at his lap as he took a seat on the edge of his bed. 

You moved to sit next to him as you started questioning him. “Did I do something wrong? You barely talked to me in the kitchen and now you're calling me by my name? Josh you never do that, what's wrong?” The questions flew out of your mouth in a desperate voice, mouth moving faster than your head. He noticed the tears welling in your eyes and placed a soft hand on your shoulder. You recoiled from his hand, “No, tell me what I did wrong.” You demanded. He sighed and his eyes flew around the room. After a beat of silence he started, “Sweetheart I am not mad at you, you didn't do anything wrong necessarily,” huh? “Necessarily? What does that mean?” you were only more confused now. “I'm just hurt by the fact you didn’t tell me you and Sam were a thing.” He finished. 

“Josh, me and Sammy aren’t a thing,” your voice trailed off. “What makes you think that?” you continued. A bewildered look took over his face, “What? But I saw you two on the couch last night? And you guys are so close.” You finally understood what he meant. “Well me and him aren't a thing and why would you care anyways?” You didn’t want to come off as harsh but you weren't in control of your mouth right now. He didn’t know how to answer. “I- I don’t know why I care, I just do okay?” This was giving you a headache. “Josh, I don't want Sam! I want someone else but I can't have him.” The subsided tears finally came rolling down your rosy cheeks.

“Why can’t you have him baby? You’re beautiful and funny, I'm sure you have no trouble getting guys’ attention.” He didn’t know what his words were doing to you. “Because it’s you Josh! It always has been! God, why can't you see that!” Oh shit. With wide eyes and a hand over your mouth you jumped up and tried to leave before a strong hand grabbed your arm and pulled you back into his lap. “No, no, no Josh I'm sorry, please let me leave.” You pleaded with him, attempting to push off of his chest, avoiding his eyes. His fingers pulled your jaw towards his face and softly pressed his lips to your lips. You gasped into his mouth and turned your body more to face him, placing your arms around his shoulders. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth and gained access to more of you, he ground your hips down slightly. A soft moan escaped your mouth and you squeezed tighter around his shoulders. You pressed your mouth into his harder and let your mind go blank, high off the feeling of his lips. 

He pulled back and trailed his mouth across your cheek and jaw, down to your neck. As he started to kiss around your throat you threaded your fingers through his hair, to which he groaned. When he reached a particularly sensitive spot he nipped at his but soothed it with his tongue. He left soft hickies along your throat before bringing his lips up to yours. As his tongue entered your mouth his phone went off. You both ignored it but as he got another call he broke away from you. “Fuck” he said, seeing Sam’s contact on the screen he put a finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet. “Hey, sure, no she’s fine she's in the living room, ok, alright bye.” After he hung up he met your confused face and chuckled, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs. 

“Babe I got to go okay? But I'll be back before Sam is later, why don't you head home.” He told you. You softly nodded and crawled off of his lap. Standing up after you and adjusting his shorts, the now prominent hard on being visible. You laughed and ran your hand up his chest. He leaned down to peck your lips.  After he walked you home, or down the hallway, you flopped onto the couch and closed your eyes. This was so great, he knows how you feel and reciprocated. Maybe this could turn into something more. You thought. Surely nothing can fuck this up now. Right?

~

sorry the end was a little rushed I had to go run errands! Hope this meets expectations!

[temptingfatetakingnames]

Dancing in the Dark Final Part

AO3 / Part 1 / Part 2

Eddie wouldn’t say he drove over the speed limit when he took his friends home, but he certainly toed the line. He also wouldn’t say that he kicked them out of his van as soon as he pulled up to their places, but that would be a lie. He was…anxious to get back to Steve. He hadn’t wanted to leave him in the first place but they both had people they needed to get home.

Designated driver duties done for the night; Eddie was on his way to Steve’s place and he was freaking out a little.

Okay, he was freaking out a lot.

Him and Steve were friends. They had slept over at each other’s places before. What they hadn’t done is sleep in the same bed after admitting they liked each other. Steve was struggling, and Eddie didn’t want to add to his stress by being nervous or weird about it. Steve needed sleep, that’s what Eddie was going over to help him with.

Sleep.

Nothing else.

…Maybe cuddling – to help Steve sleep.

The beamer was already in the driveway when Eddie pulled up to the Harrington House. He turned the van off and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans before he got out. His heart was a fluttering thing in his chest as he approached the door. Before he could knock, it swung open. Steve smiled. A real one, small and soft, and Eddie felt himself melt into a gooey puddle. Oh. The power that little smile already had over him was dangerous.

“Hey,” Steve said, smiling wider.

“Hey,” Eddie replied, smiling back, and they stood staring at each other in the doorway like lovesick fools.

“Come in,” Steve said and stepped back so Eddie could pass in front of him as he closed the door. Eddie was a little unsure where to go. Living room? Kitchen? Right up to Steve’s room? It was late and Steve was probably tired but adrenaline was coursing through Eddie like a goddamn freight train. His fingers tapped against his legs.

“Need anything? I can grab you some comfortable clothes to change into?”

Eddie hadn’t gone home to grab an overnight bag because he couldn’t bear to be away from Steve any longer than was strictly necessary. He nodded and Steve grabbed his hand, leading him through the house and up to his room, turning off the lights as they went.

Right to bed then.

When they got to his room, Steve let go of his hand to go over to his dresser. He pulled out pajama bottoms and a worn-out t-shirt. Eddie wasn’t going to tell him that he usually just slept in his boxers… if he slept in anything at all.

“Thanks,” Eddie said as Steve handed him the bundle of clothes. He went to change in the bathroom, giving them both a moment alone. The reflection staring back at him from the mirror was of a person he barely recognized. Wide eyed and red cheeked. He was so fucked. He dropped his head into his hands, shaking it back and forth. After his little internal crisis, he changed into the pajamas. They were soft and baggy on him. He and Steve were pretty close in height but Steve was broader than him, more muscular. As he was about to head back out he heard a soft knock on the door.

He opened it to Steve, a toothbrush in his hand and wearing his own pajamas.

“For you,” he said, holding it out.

Eddie took it. “Sorry, I really should have stopped at home first but I –” Eddie cut himself off before he admitted that he hadn’t wanted to waste any more time away from him.

“All good,” Steve replied, “I always have extras handy.”

He walked into the bathroom and fluffed his hair in the mirror before grabbing his own toothbrush. After squeezing out some toothpaste onto his brush, he passed the tube to Eddie, who did the same. They brushed their teeth, eyes meeting in the mirror and Eddie couldn’t help feeling slightly seduced by the look he was being given. It made his body feel warm – to have Steve Harrington looking at him like that. He wanted to kiss him. The urge to reach out almost impossible to resist. But he did.

Sleep, Eddie reminded himself. He was here to sleep… and talk. No kissing.

Not yet anyway.

When they were done, they walked back to Steve’s room and nerves lit up his spine as Steve turned on the small lamp beside his bed and turned off the main light. The room was cast in an intimate glow, the lamp only giving off a small amount of light. Steve flipped down the covers and slid under them, looking at Eddie with a searching look as he hesitated to do the same thing on the other side. Eddie crawled into the bed, heart pounding wildly, with none of the grace Steve had displayed.

They laid down on their backs, faces toward the ceiling, letting the night settle around them. Steve was warm beside him, a powerful force of gravity, pulling Eddie closer. Steve must have felt it too, because seemingly at the same time, they turned towards each other. Edging closer and closer on their respective pillows until Eddie could feel Steve’s minty breath on his face. Slowly, so slowly, Eddie reached out and put his arm over Steve’s shoulders, drawing their bodies closer. Steve didn’t resist but melted forward until their bodies aligned tightly against each other, legs intertwining.

Eddie didn’t know what to do with the feelings in his chest when Steve sighed and snuggled in against him. They felt too large for his body, threatening to erupt and spill out everywhere. Steve Harrington was in his arms. Soft and warm. Eddie breathed him in deeply, a delicious smelling cologne still lingering on his skin.

“Good night, sweetheart,” Eddie said.  

He felt Steve’s response against his skin. “Good night, Eddie.”

Silence descended and Eddie closed his eyes, trying desperately to calm his pounding heart so he could go to sleep. He didn’t question Steve’s need to leave the small light on. There had been many nights that he hadn’t been able to sleep without them. Flashlight in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other.

“I’m not tired,” Steve whispered.

Eddie couldn’t help but snort and Steve laughed a little.

“Alright,” he capitulated. “I am tired, but I don’t want to sleep yet.”

“Is there something you want to talk about?”

He went quiet, thinking, and Eddie held him close – wondering if he would fall asleep before answering.

“You said you want to know more about me… so, ask a question. Any question and I’ll answer it.”

“What’s the secret Robin has on you?” Eddie asked immediately and was instantly more awake because of the riotous blush that erupted on Steve’s cheeks.

“Any question but that one!”

“Too late sweetheart, you said any question!”

Steve gaped up at him but Eddie just looked calmly back, eyebrow raised, waiting for the answer. He refused to look away and after a moment Steve released a resigned huff and hid his face into Eddie’s neck. He fought to suppress his body’s shiver as Steve’s breath ghosted over his skin.

“It was you,” Steve said so quietly Eddie had to listen closely to hear his voice. “In the van when you called me Big Boy…” Steve trailed off, like that answered his question. Which it very much did not. What was him? He gave Steve a little shake.

“Shit. You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

“You gave me a goddamn sexual crisis! Robin was absolutely no help as I struggled for months to figure out what I was feeling was a crush…” Heat bloomed warm and quick on Eddie’s face at Steve’s admission.

“But you didn’t see me,” Steve continued and Eddie’s good feeling disappeared as quickly as it had come. Steve huffed a laugh that sounded suspiciously close to a sob. “But no one did, so that was nothing new.”

Eddie wanted to say that he was wrong – that he had seen him – but he wouldn’t lie. He saw him now… and hoped that was enough.

“You hid yourself too well, Steve. I had no idea you felt that way. I’m sorry it took me so long to see behind that mask you show everyone… but I’m looking now. I see you… and Steve?” Eddie asked and waited for him to lean back and look up at him. When he met his eyes, Eddie said, “I like what I see.”

Emotion burned in the hazel depths staring back at him. Fierce and bright and Eddie threw his no kissing rule out of the window and captured Steve’s lips with his own. As much as he wanted to bite and consume, he kept it gentle and soft. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed and he deepened the kiss, tongue questioning at Eddie’s closed lips. Without thought, they parted and Steve surged forward. His hands came up to Eddie’s cheeks, before slipping behind his neck and into his hair. The kiss became wet and slippery, messy in their desperation to taste each other. There was no longer anything gentle about it. Eddie nipped at Steve’s plush lower lip and was gratified when he moaned deep into his mouth. Eddie clutched him closer before releasing him and backing up as much as Steve’s hands in his hair would allow. They needed to slow things down… and breathe.

Steve let out a slow breath. “I wasn’t expecting this,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you. All of this because of a song?”

Because of a song? No. Because of how Steve sang it. So raw, like he was pulling the lyrics out of himself bleeding. Eddie had never heard anything like it. He wasn’t sure if he ever would again.  

You can't start a fire You can't start a fire without a spark

“It wasn’t just the song. But it did…open my eyes, I guess? I had never seen you be so vulnerable before. You always act so tough, so unshakeable. The way you sang that song showed me that I didn’t understand you at all, that I had seen the surface of you but didn’t look any deeper. Everything you said about your fears and your dreams – I get it. I really fucking get it.”

Steve was nodding along with what Eddie was saying, his fingers idling playing with his hair.

“It was easier… to try and lock it all away. If I just told myself that I was fine, that everything was fine – then it would be. But the box wouldn’t stay shut. Not this time.”

I'll shake this world off my shoulders

Eddie had experienced horror. Had lived through hell. It was easy to forget that Steve had experienced it, too – but for longer. He remembered being absolutely stunned when they had finally told him the whole story. Demogorgons, Russians, Mindflayers, Vecna. The men and the monsters Steve had fought. Eddie was still fucked up over his one encounter, he didn’t know how the rest of them did it.

“You didn’t talk to Robin?” he asked.

“I did. Of course, I did. She’s my best friend but she’s moving on – it’s over for her and I wanted it to be over for her, too. So, I stopped bringing it up. She didn’t question it. To her – to everyone – I was back to my old self. Easy, simple Steve Harrington.”

“Steve, I –”

“I know that I hid away parts of myself,” Steve interrupted. “Hid them well enough that no one could see them. I don’t blame anyone for not seeing through me, I just…” Steve sighed and trailed off. He flipped onto his back so he was staring up at the ceiling, hands across his chest.

I could use just a little help

Eddie hesitated but Steve had told him to ask questions. So, he asked the other one that had been burning a hole in his tongue the whole night.

“Why did you sing that song?”

“I didn’t want to sing at all but Robins stubborn and I knew she wouldn’t let it go. I wasn’t planning on singing it, but I heard you guys – laughing and joking. Abba, Duran Duran, Madonna.” Steve said and paused. “I didn’t want to be easy, simple Steve Harrington anymore.”

There's a joke here somewhere and it's on me

Shame burned through Eddie, sudden and sharp. An uncomfortable feeling that he had little experience with. He had no idea that Steve had heard them, but he should have. Their table had been right in front of the stage, and they certainly hadn’t been quiet about it. At the time, he probably wouldn’t have thought that Steve would care.

“I decided at the microphone – to try and show you all who I am, what I’ve been feeling. To see if it would make any difference,” Steve said and turned back to face him, a hand under his cheek. He smiled slowly, softly. Beautifully sad. “I guess it did.”

He was too far away, so Eddie drew him against his side again. Without hesitation Steve tucked his head under Eddie’s chin and clutched his back.

You can't start a fire Worryin' about your little world fallin' apart

“It did,” Eddie agreed quietly. “You shocked me – shocked all of us. I’m sorry we made you feel that way. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m not happy about how we ended up here, but I am happy to be here, with you warm and lovely in my arms. I want to get to know you better, which means no more hiding what you’re thinking and feeling. Promise me, Steve – no more hiding.”

“Lovely? …You think I’m lovely?”

“Steve,” Eddie warned.

“No more hiding, I promise. I’m happy to be here, too.”

“Good,” Eddie said and kissed his forehead. “We should go to sleep.”

Steve poked him hard in his side instead and Eddie laughed before telling him what he wanted to hear.

“Yeah, Steve. I think you’re lovely.”

As if there was any doubt.

A mumbled response that Eddie couldn’t hear came from the man in his arms.

“What was that?”

“Think you’re lovely, too.”

Eddie couldn’t keep the massive smile that came over his face or the warmth that settled into his heart. Gooey puddle, that’s what he was.

“Good night, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered into the dark.

“Good night, Eddie.”

He held Steve tightly all through the night. Held him against the darkness and the loneliness and the nightmares. Held him because he was precious and worth protecting.

Even if we're just dancin' in the dark

---

@newtstabber @warlordess @tillystealeaves @imfinereallyy @heartsong18 @saltyseagoat83 @aceofwands @djohawke @th30ra3k3n @lazy-duck @surreal-honeypot @awkwardgravity1 @yoriposts @alycatavatar @tearsonthemoon222 @roastingdragon @mightbeasleep @helpimstuckposting @goblintendencies @dannys-guilt-ridden-cockroach

I tagged everyone who commented on the first part asking for more, I hope that's okay!

I think that will be it for this little fic, I wanted to finish off the night and give a bit more of a conclusion. I truly hoped you enjoyed this mostly fluffy and a little bit angsty final installment. As always, it's a pleasure to share with you all <3 Good night!

[mapis-putellas]

Don’t say I didn’t warn you

Advent day 12: Carry me?

Paring: sick Yelena x reader

Notes: the longest one yet!

“Come on,” Yelena shouts giddily as the rain water from the puddles soak her legs, spinning in circles with her arms out either side of her. “This is so much fun.”

You watch with a smile -from the very dry threshold of the doorway might you add, as Yelena jumps in yet another puddle. It was currently summer, and after weeks upon weeks of unbearable heat, the sky had finally let loose with a much needed torrential downpour.

It had started of small. Tiny drops of moisture dotting the windows and the cement, then with an almighty roar of thunder, it had begun to bucket it down.

The second Yelena had gotten a glance out of the window after putting away the dishes from lunch, there had been no stopping her. Both her shoes and coat had been left abandoned in the entry way of your home as she’d excitedly run outside, and despite your concerns that this decision might bite her in the butt, you couldn’t deny just how adorable she looks.

Soon, the sound of wet feet hitting the cement catches your attention, and you flicker your eyes over just in time to see Yelena running full speed towards a large, still steadily growing puddle.

Your eyes widen. “Yelena no-” too late. She lands in the very centre, and the power of her feet hitting the water has her absolutely saturated. Seemingly uncaring over this fact, she lets out a loud laugh and wipes at her eyes before turning to face you with a proud grin.

You couldn’t help but return it, not remembering the last time you’d seen her so happy. Knowing she’d be content by herself for a few moments, you disappear inside and grab a few towels from the laundry closet, not intending on letting her back inside when she’d be sure to drip water absolutely everywhere.

By the time you return, she was walking back towards the house looking like an adorably drowned rat, and you hold out one of the towels ready for her to step into. She does, and you don’t miss the sigh of relief that escapes her lips as she allows you to pull her into her arms.

“Did you have fun?” You murmur as you close and lock your front door before securing your arms around the small, shivering blonde, cupping the back of her head with one hand whilst the other rubs up and down her back in a futile attempt at warming her up.

She nods, “So much.” She murmurs contently as she nuzzles her nose into your neck, and you couldn’t help but smile as you press your lips against the side of her head. With the knowledge that she probably wouldn’t willingly leave your arms for at least some time, you bend and lift her with the intention of giving her a lift to the bathroom so she could shower.

“I’m not a baby.” She grumbles, but wraps her legs around your waist anyway, and you roll your eyes fondly as you pat her behind and begin making your way up the stairs.

“Being held doesn’t make you a baby,” you remind her like you’ve done many times before, and though she grumbles, she doesn’t retort knowing you were speaking the truth. Once you’ve made it to the bathroom, you set her down on her feet and cup her face before placing a kiss to her forehead.

Her cheeks flush, and you smile softly as you pull away from her. “Go shower and I’ll make us some hot chocolate, okay?”

“With whipped cream and marshmallows?” She tilts her head to the side, and you nod with a knowing smile.

“Duh.” You retort, and Yelena playfully flips you off before turning towards the shower. Taking that as a dismissal, you turn to leave the room making sure to close the door behind you.

You hum softly to yourself as you begin preparing the drinks, adding a little more chocolate to Yelena’s own knowing that’s how she prefers it. After adding a sufficient amount of whipped cream and marshmallows, you carry both cups through to the living room just in time for Yelena to make an appearance at the bottom of the stairs.

“You should dry your hair.” you say in place of a greeting as you give her a knowing look, sitting down on the couch and picking up the remote. Yelena huffs in fake annoyance as she comes to sit next to you, tucking her bare feet beneath your thigh as she reaches for her drink.

“It will be fine. You worry too much.” She mumbles distractedly as she sticks out her tongue to scoop up a marshmallow, and you watch her for a second before rolling your eyes with a fond sigh.

You knew it was another decision that would later bite her in the ass.

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You muse as you select frozen 2 on Disney +, a known favourite of Yelena’s that she would watch at least twice a week.

*

And warn her you did. Just two days later, Yelena had fallen ill with such a heavy cold you wondered just how she was alive. She was severely congested. Hazy with a high fever, and that wasn’t even mentioning the continuous coughs and sneezes.

“Baby, you know the beds a whole lot more comfortable right?” You murmur in quiet amusement as you reach out to gently brush a damp strand of hair out of the sick Russians face.

Yelena simply grunts in acknowledgment as she wipes uselessly at her running nose, and you fondly roll your eyes as you lean down to press a kiss to her warm forehead. “I’ll go get the bed ready okay? You stay here.” You speak, and this time, Yelena doesn’t even acknowledge you. She simply closes her eyes and falls into what you could only assume was a fitful sleep.

You weren’t offended by the action. Yelena was notoriously grumpy when feeling sick, and due to the fact you’d been together for over three years, it was something you were pretty much used to. The same couldn’t be said when you first got together, but that was a story for another time.

With another sigh, -because it sucked when she was sick, even if it wasn’t self inflicted- you leave the living room and make your way up to your shared bedroom. The bed was neatly made, just as it was everyday, and you don’t waste any time in pulling the covers back and knocking the decorative pillows out of the way .

You make sure there were tissues and water readily available on the nightstand before heading back over to the sick blonde, and you couldn’t help but smile when you realise she was in the exact same position you’d left her in.

Well, excluding her nose that was yet again running. Without a word, you grab a few tissue from the box on the coffee table and fold them in half before crouching down before her and pinching the end of her nose in a futile effort to get rid of the dripping snot.

She rouses slightly at the action, her face scrunching up in discomfort, and you quietly shush her with a gentle hand on her stomach as you finish with your task and make quick work of sanitising your hands.

“Time for bed baby, come on.” You reach out and give her behind a few steady pats in a futile effort at rousing her. Yelena whines quietly as she lazily bats your hands away, and you chuckle slightly as you instead reach up to gently pat her upper back. “Lena? Come on. Time to get up.”

Yelena again, bats your hand away, her eyes flickering open and sending you a pretty deadly glare. Before she could chew you out, you scoot a little closer and cup her cheek. Without thought, Yelena falls into your soothing touch, and your lips quirk up at the corners as you trail the pad of your thumb over warm skin.

“Let’s get you in bed, okay?” You murmur, and Yelena sniffles wetly as she gently bobs her head up and down. You release her face and go to stand up, but a gentle whine stops you in your tracks. You look down and see her staring at you with a pleading look on her face.

“What is it baby?” You question, and whilst Yelena’s cheeks flush a light shade of red, she seemingly responds to you with ease.

“Carry me? Please?” She murmurs, and your heart melts in your chest as you immediately nod your head. Normally, it was only ever you who insinuates holding her. So for her to ask, whilst nearly unbelievable, was absolutely amazing.

With a smile, you bend down and wrap your arms around her midsection. You lift her with relative ease, her legs hooking tightly around your waist as she buries her head into your neck. With an arm remaining beneath her behind for support, you bring the other one up to cup the back of her head and press a tender kiss to her shoulder.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

**

@goldenempyrean @alotofpockets @somber-sapphic

[dxwnstxr]

Rain drops against your window

Fandom: Bungou stray dogs

Characters: Dazai x y/n (reader)

Genre: steamy-ish

Warnings: make out sesh :p

A/N: requests are closed!!! I've been so busy with my tiktok I completely forgot about Tumblr I'm so sorry! My requests have just built up and there's atleast 20 T-T. I'll try my best to finish them all but I can't promise I'll do all of them. I wanted to write this today though because dazai's been my new obsession. ^^ this is written in the readers pov.

Cold. That's all that I felt as I walked home. Raindrops hitting my shoulders and dampening my hair, along with my clothes. I had forgotten an umbrella on the one day it's supposed to rain this week, just my luck. By now all my paperwork was probably soaked and I'd have to redo them all.

I sighed and hung my head low. My house wasn't close to my work but it wasn't very far either. The closest bus had already left for the next few hours and no taxi was available, leaving walking as my only option.

I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag. Taking one more step in another puddle, a hard board hit me in the face. I tumbled back and rubbed my nose, groaning in pain.

"Cmon..."

I mubled, annoyed at my terrible luck. Looking up to see what a ran into I was met with one of my co-workers. He leaned down to me, face full of concern.

"Are you okay?"

He asked me. I nodded and kept my curses to myself. Dazai, was a well known person at my work. He was known for slacking and goofing off but when we truly needed it, he would help us as best as possible. He put out his hand, asking me to grab it. I put my hand in his and he helped me up a little.

"How far away is your house?"

He ask. I raised a brow.

"Why do you want to know where a live?"

I replied. He just rolled his eyes.

"I'm guess still a little far right?"

I tsked and look to the side. He wasn't wrong, which just annoyed me further. I sighed and nodded.

"My house is around the corner. You can stay there for the night. It's non stop thunderstorms till tomorrow morning."

He stated. I hated the idea of staying with him but it was the only option I had. I could stay at a hotel but I don't have a bunch of money on me.

"Alright.."

Dazai chuckled and took my hand.

"Follow me"

I let him guide me to his house which was actually a condo. He just calls it a "house" to make him feel like he isn't broke.

When we got the he unlocked the door and opened it for me. He lived on the second floor, so he had a beautiful view outside with his balcony facing where the sunsets. Too bad it was too clouding to see it tonight.

Dazai put away his umbrella and walked to his room. I followed him and saw him looking in his closet.

"Here. Go change in the bathroom"

He handed me some baggy close. Dazai was more on the thiner side, but he was still rather muscular. I nodded and he pointed to down the hall.

Stripping myself of the soaked clothing, dazai's warm clothes seemed to fit well enough, to the point the pants didn't fall off. I walked out and tried to find where he went. Walking back into his room, he was sitting on his bed, scrolling on his phone. He looked up at me and his eyes widened.

"I'll throw your clothes in the wash"

He told me, taking them from my hands. He soon left the room as I could hear him getting the detergent and oxi clean. I sat by the balcony window and watched the rain come down. I leaned my head against the glass doors and listened to the way the rain hit the glass.

I closed my eyes and focused on the sound. I didn't hear Dazai come back in until I heard him sit opposite to me.

I opened my eyes and he smiled.

"Fan of the rain?" He tried to tease.

"Only when it's not soaking me to death." I reply.

He just chuckled. The ac turned on and the chill came back as goosebumps flooded my arms and legs. Dazai took note of this and moved closer to me. He sat next to me, his shoulder pressed against the glass doors, and opened his legs and arms a bit. Almost as if he was inviting me to cuddle him.

I glared at him and he smiled in return.

"You're cold aren't you?" He asked me, smarkily.

I continued to glare and he just sighed.

"Do you want to freeze?"

I huffed and scooted to him. Pressing my back to his chest.

"See isn't that better~?" He teased.

"Just shut up" I told him, annoying at his teasing and he pouted in return.

It didn't take long for me to relax. Letting my body relax into his as I let his warmth surround me. I let out a hot breath and watched the rain pour. I titled my head to the side and was able to hear his breathing and the way his heart beated.

I listened close and tried to match my breathing uo with his. Though, even though I tried, It didn't last long. I turned my body around so my chest was facing his and he leaned back a bit, his back now pressed against the side of his bed. I wrapped my arms around his torso and sighed in relief. The heat finally reaching me as it surrounded my body.

Dazai tensed at my moments but soon relaxed and continued watching the rain pour outside. I looked up at his to see what he was doing and he looked down at me.

We both didn't move. In fact, we both stay in that position. He looked at my eyes then my nose, my cheeks, forehead, lips, and so on. His eyes moving around my face, taking in all my features as I did the same to him. At the same time our eyes reconnected and it shocked us both. Our eyes widenening then relaxing. I sat up and wrapped my legs around his hips, so I was sitting in his lap.

He placed his hands on my waist and pulled me closer. I swallowed nothing and blushed a little. Dazai cupped my chin and pulled my face to his. It took me a second to realize that he was kissing me but when I did I reciprocated it. His hand that was resting on my chin moved to the back of my neck, tilting my head up.

Doing that opened my mouth slightly and he licked my lips. Parting them he welcomed himself in and pressed his tongue against mine. His other hand that was on my hip moved to entangle itself in my hair. He held me so close that it felt like he was scared that I would disappear.

He pulled back and slowly opened his eyes, along with me. He brought his thumb to my bottom lip and rubbed the wetness on it. Not wasting a second more, he leaned back in. This time the kiss was more lustful than the last. Like he was trying to be dominant with me. Though... I didn't complain.

He pulled away with a string of saliva connecting us. He started peppering kisses down my jaw line and to my neck.

"Dazai..." I breathed out.

He picked his head up from my neck and studied my face. Dazai then sighed and his head dropped to my shoulder. He rested it there for a while before speaking.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered.

"For?"

"Not asking.."

I practically looked at him in awe. I pulled his head off my shoulder to get a look at his face. A adorable little blush was dusted across his cheeks and I smiled at it. I kissed his nose and cupped his face.

"It's okay" I whispered to him.

I brushed away the hairs that were in his face and rubbed his cheek gently. He melted into my touch and looked at me with his chocolate brown eyes. He smiled softly and spoke with a red blush forming on his cheeks.

"May I kiss you?"

[moonmaiden1996]

Hii!! Can I request domestic Headcanons with Tatsu x reader??

My first Tatsu fanfic. I love this man. I need to read all the manga's and anime again. Hope you like. My requests ae still open.

Every morning, Tatsu wakes up a little earlier to prepare your favourite hot drink just the way you like it. He’ll bring it to you in bed, smiling softly as he hands it to you, often with a sweet note tucked under the mug, telling you just how much he loves you.

Whenever you go out together, he instinctively positions himself slightly ahead of you. Whether it’s walking through a crowded street or navigating a busy store, his watchful eyes are always on alert, ready to step in if he senses anything that might cause you trouble.

Tatsu loves to surprise you with your favourite meals, always experimenting with new recipes. He’ll carefully set the table with candles and flowers, turning an ordinary dinner into a cosy date night at home, where he can spoil you with his cooking.

After a long day, he loves pampering you with a mini spa session. All homemade. He’ll run you a warm bath, complete with your favourite bath bombs and scents, before giving you a gentle massage. His hands work expertly, easing every knot of tension from your body, making sure you feel fully relaxed and cared for.

He leaves little handwritten notes around the house for you to find throughout the day, reminding you of how lucky he feels to have you in his life. He also sneaks these into your handmade bento boxes, so you’ll always have a little reminder of him when you're at work or out.

At night, Tatsu wraps you in his strong arms while you cuddle together on the couch. He always positions himself so that you feel safe and secure, as if he’s shielding you from the world outside, keeping you grounded in his warmth.

If anything breaks around the house, Tatsu is quick to fix it. He takes pride in being handy, often joking that he can handle anything that comes his way—just like he did in his yakuza days.

If you're craving a midnight snack, Tatsu will throw on a jacket and head out to the local 7-Eleven, Lawson, or FamilyMart, determined to bring back your favourite treats, no matter how late it is. He returns with a grin, proudly holding a bag of goodies like it’s a treasure trove.

Whenever you’ve had a rough day, Tatsu is always there to listen. He’ll hold your hand tightly, leaning in close while you vent, offering words of comfort and reassurance in that calm, low voice of his.

Though he’s fully embraced his new life, Tatsu’s protective instincts are always sharp. If you ever feel uncomfortable or unsafe, he’s right there beside you, using his past experience to quickly diffuse any tension. You’ll feel his hand on your back or his arm around your waist, a silent promise that he’ll always keep you safe.

Each morning, before anything else, Tatsu makes a point to lean down and give you a soft, lingering kiss. He doesn’t need many words to express his love—it’s in these small, intimate gestures that he shows how much he cares.

NSFW.

After a passionate round, Tatsu will gently lay you down on the futon and take his time, teasing every moan and gasp of pleasure from you until you’re nothing more than a boneless puddle against the mattress. He takes great pride in knowing he can bring you to that point.

Once you're finished, he'll scoop you up effortlessly and carry you to the bathroom to rinse off. He takes his time lathering and scrubbing every inch of your body, making sure to be extra gentle over any sensitive areas. And if you’re up for it, he may just take you against the tiled wall, one more time, to enjoy the steamy shower together.

If you're too tired to move, he’ll bring a warm washcloth to clean you up, before tucking you back in bed, ensuring you’re comfortable and cosy. His gentle care after intimacy is as important to him as the act itself.

Tatsu will definitely pounce on you as soon as you walk through the door if you’ve sent him a cheeky text or called him with something flirty during the day. But he completely understands if you're too tired after a long day at work—he'll switch gears in an instant, offering comfort and letting you set the pace.

He’s also practical when it comes to pleasure. Using his savvy spending skills, Tatsu has picked up a few “gadgets” for the bedroom, knowing that a good househusband comes prepared with all the right tools.

And yes—he absolutely loves to eat you out. No need for further explanation there; it’s something he’s very, very good at.

On those days when you feel overwhelmed, he’ll quietly guide you to sit on his cock, allowing you to just rest against him. He loves it when you nestle into his neck, your body close to his, as he holds you in that quiet, intimate moment. There's no rush—just the feeling of his presence grounding you, even in the midst of everything else.

[kathysturniolo]

Understand you.

description: a teenage girl, February Martin, struggling with mental health and addiction who hates talking about her feelings. she likes the fact that nobody notices. however, her best friend, Matt, starts to realize more and more that she's losing herself.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

"Feb.."

"Feb, wake up."

"February.."

"Feb! "

   My eyes flickered open. I heard Sarah's voice. I looked at her. The light burned into my pupils.

"Ms. Tilson just asked you a question."

"I-I'm sorr- what? " I lifted myself up. My arms were numb.

"I asked you to identify this triangle. February. "

My eyes fixated on the board. It was blurry. I looked around and everyone's eyes were plastered to me.

"I- um- I don't know." My nails dug into my arm. I heard whispers and people were giving me looks, almost like they wanted to yell 'boo' at me.

"Miss Martin, you've been sleeping in my class almost this entire semester. "She sighed.

I didn't say anything. I wanted to. I just stared at my legs. She pinched the bridge of her nose and picked up a marker.

"Does anybody else want to try to identify the triangle? "

Hands rose like fucking springs. You idiot.

After that class, I left early. Like, 'asking to go to bathroom and then walking out of the door' early. I'm surprised I've never been caught before, after doing it at least 20 times this year. I found a gas station and sat outside on a piece of side walk and pulled out my my phone.

feb:

heyy

matt:

dude did u leave class again?

feb:

yeah lol sorry

matt:

yk your gonna get caught one day for just leaving.

feb:

it hasn't happened yet so 🤷‍♀️

matt:

ok lol. where are you?

feb:

Dan's gas station

matt:

come by my house after i get out, k?

I sighed and sat down my phone. i was going to go to a bar tonight. Get 'today' off my mind.

feb:

alright

I headed home after sitting down for about 15 minutes. If I was being honest, I didn't want to explain to my dad why I was home early, but I just wanted to go home for a little bit.

I opened the door. The creak made my body twitch. I hated this damn door.

"Dad, " I shook him.

Yep, he was knocked out.

Thank God.

His beer can spilled a little on the floor, leading me to accidently stepping in the puddle of liquid.

"Shit."

Well, that was another reason why my day sucked. I took off my now soaked converses and threw them over in the living room, rushing to my room.

My room was a mess. I didn't remember leaving it like this. I just threw myself on my bed, opening the sandwhich bag of meth I had in the corner of my bed, hidden under some covers. When Matt finds out I didn't stop using he'll be so pissed at me. His voice rang inside my head.

6:51

matt:

u still coming over?

My phone buzzes beside me. I woke up as my body was leaned off the bed.

I was definitely high. .

feb:

ya

I cut my phone off and tried to get up. My head got dizzy and my vision went black.

It's okay, maybe he won't notice.

I put on a dark blue sweatshirt, put on a pair of sneakers, and walked out of my room, down the stairs.

Dad was still fast asleep. Part of me didn't really care and wanted to let him sleep but the other part of me wanted to wake him up and make sure he didn't die in his sleep. I was almost out the door when I sighed and turned back around and made my way to my dad and put my finger under his nose to make sure he was breathing.

He was, thank God.

I walked back to the door and walked out. I forgot to lock it but, it's a small neighborhood, I think it'll be okay.

I must've not been too high, I could still function. I was kinda dizzy still. Hopefully, I don't get hit by a car as I'm walking to Matt's.

feb:

im on my way

I slid my phone in the pocket of my sweats. and speed-walked down the street and curved a couple corners until I made it to his house. He had a better house then me, it was bigger and cleaner. He loves to clean, so that makes sense.

feb:

here

A couple seconds later, Matt's blue eye met mine. He greets me with a big smile.

"Hey, kid," He said, poking out his hand, gesturing to do our handshake.

I smiled and grabbed his hand, "Bro I said stop calling me kid, you're literally younger then me," I laughed.

"By what? 4 months?" He said furrowing his eyebrows and smiling.

We both laughed and I walked into his house fully.

"Parents are at work, so we're definitely using the kitchen." He said, chuckling.

"Aww, mann, but Marylou and Jimmy are the only reason I even come here," I teased.

He laughed and we walked up the stairs to him room. He had an awesome room. His LED lights were always on green, he had a huge bed, and a big blue bean bag chair. He had a huge gaming set up, and a walk in closet with band posters stuck to it from top to bottom.

I plopped on his bed and kicked off my shoes. He climbed beside me.

"Dude, I saw this movie on TikTok, it's about some psyco killer clown. It seems pretty badass. "

I was zoned out, my head in the clouds, I almost didn't hear what Matt said.

"Alright, " I said with an unconvincing laugh.

I could tell he was confused on my lack of excitement because I saw him look at me from the corner of my eye.

He cut of the tv, and put it to the movie. My head was killing me. I clenched my eyes shut and winced a little. He tapped on my shoulder.

"Are you good bro?' He said, with a little bit of a laugh.

"Yeah, duh" I said sarcastically.

The movie played for at least 10 minutes before my vision went black again and I got dizzy. I started to lean back a little bit.

"Feb." He said, seriously. So seriously, it kind of scared me.

"What?" I said innocently, as I looked him.

He looked at me, squinting his eyes a bit. He parted his lips and frowned at me.

'You're using again. " he sighed.

"What? Matt. I'm not. I'm no- not."

I looked at him. I could see his eyes start to water.

"Feb, you promised me you'd stop. You promised me." He looked at me, with glossy eyes.

"Matt, I- I'm n-" My voice cracked. My eyes swelled with tears. "I can't, Matt."

Matt wiped his hand over his mouth. I could see a tear, screaming to come out of his eye.

I covered my mouth with my hand. I tried not to cry. I closed my eyes to try to keep the tears in.

He leaned over me, putting his hands on my arms. He looked at me, he didn't say anything. It was almost like he was waiting for the whole world to disappear and it just be us.

"February," He spoke, "It's okay."

He took his thumb and wiped his thumb across my face.

"You're my best friend Feb. You told me you were getting better. You told me that you stopped."

"Matt, I- I'm sorry." I sighed.

"What's going on? You first started using when your grandma died. That was your worst breaking point. That was 3 years ago. What's going on now? " He whispered.

"Nothing, Matt. Nothing, I promise."

"February, talk to me."

"You won't understand."

"You're my best friend, I understand you, Kid"

"My dad." I whispered.

"Your dad? What's wrong with your dad?" Matt asked concerned.

"He misses Mom, Matt. Last month was her birthday. He's been isolating since." My voice cracked.

Fuck, don't cry again February.

Matt pulled me into a hug. I put my face into the crook of his neck, trying not to cry.

"I'm so sorry. " He whispered as he rested his chin on my head. "Can you stay tonight? I just want to make sure you're okay."

I breathed out and wiped the tears off my eyes and nodded."

"I'm here for you, February. For fucking ever."

I chuckled, and we laid back and continued watching the movie.

[inkinmyheartandonthepage]

Rainy Days

Day 8 of flufftober: Rainy Days. You can read it here on AO3

For three days L.A has been covered by dark clouds that have been spilling down on them in bouts of heavy rain or a constant drizzle. Three days of being couped up inside and Eddie needed backup. Their plans for the weekend had been cancelled due to the rain and Eddie could see that Chris was getting restless, his temper shortening.

So, Eddie had done the only thing he could think off; he had called Buck for backup. Buck had texted Eddie back within in minutes saying he was on his way. And Eddie chose not to look too hard into the way his whole body had relaxed at those words, or the way butterflies seemed to have taken up residence in his stomach.

“Buck is on his way,” Eddie had told Chris who had perked up considerably at the news.

While Chris had disappeared into his room to grab his latest Lego set to show Buck, Eddie had disappeared into the kitchen to make up some sandwiches for lunch. He was just putting the final touches on them when there was a knock on the door.

Frowning, Eddie placed the knife on the kitchen bench before wiping his hands on a tea towel. He left the kitchen and headed the front door, wondering if Buck had lost his key or if it was Buck at all. It had been a long time since his best friend had knocked on the door, long past being a guest in the Diaz home.

Reaching the front door, Eddie pulled it open and blinked.

“Not exactly the distraction I had in mind, Buck,” Eddie said, taking in the appearance of his best friend.

Buck stood there, drenched from the current downpour, and creating a small puddle on his front porch, with a sheepish smile on his face. In his arms, he cradled an equally wet dog that looked to be a golden retriever. The sight of Buck’s clothes clinging to him, giving him a very nice outline of his abs would have had Eddie stomach clenching with want if it weren’t for them both shivering, Buck’s lips slowly turning blue.

Eddie sighed, stepping aside. “Bathroom. Now. Both of you.”

Buck ducked his head, stepping past Eddie and hurrying through the house. Eddie shut the door and locked it before he followed Buck’s path through the house a slower pace.

“Dad? Was that Buck?” Chris asked, voice drifting from his room.

“It was. He’s got caught in the rain so he’s just cleaning up,” Eddie explained as he passed. “He’ll be out soon.”

Eddie continued to his room, pausing to grab Buck a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a hoodie that Buck had left behind the last time he had stayed over. Items in hand, Eddie pushed his way into the bathroom and fought the fond smile that threatened to take over his face.

Buck had put the golden retriever in the bath and was now kneeling on the bathmat, gently towelling off the pup. He cooed soft, reassuring words and praises, not that the pup seemed to need them. It seemed to be enjoying the attention, snuggling into the towel every time Buck passed the fabric over its head.

Of course, Buck was focused on the puppy rather than himself. He was still dripping wet, soaking Eddie’s bathmat beneath him. Eddie opened the cabinet under the sink, grabbing a clean towel. It flicked it open before he draped it over Buck’s head and started towelling his hair dry before his brain could process it. He tensed, waiting for Buck to knock his hands away or tell him off but Buck didn’t even flinch, just let Eddie scrub the towel over his head like it was normal.

“Do I even want to know?” Eddie asked, unable to keep the fondness out of his tone as he relaxed. Buck seemed to melt under his touch, giving a little appreciative little hum as Eddie’s dried his hair.  

“She was just sitting in the rain, Ed’s!” Buck cried out, voice muffled by the towel as Eddie rubbed it back and forth over Buck’s curls. “I saw her by the park down the end of the street and I couldn’t just leave her there.”

“Of course not,” Eddie said, lifting the towel from Buck’s hair and draping it around his shoulders instead. Of course Buck had ventured out in the middle of a downpour to rescue a lost dog. “Did she have a collar?”

“Nothing,” Buck said, scrubbing the dogs body. The dog looked to be a few months old – no longer a puppy but not an adult yet either. She was adorable, pink tongue lolling out with bliss as Buck rubbed the towel across her belly. She was skinny though and Eddie could see the hint of her ribs sticking out, his heart clenching with sympathy.

“Here, I’ll finish drying her,” Eddie said, squeezing Buck’s shoulder. “You get into something warm before you catch a cold.”

Buck turned, giving Eddie a sheepish smile. “Thanks.”

Eddie took Buck’s place by the tub, taking over drying the golden retriever. Eddie kept his eyes firmly on the dog as he heard Buck starting to strip behind him, wet clothes falling to the ground with a splat.

“You think she was abandoned?” Eddied asked, desperately trying to not to let his gaze stray from the dog.

The bathroom was getting steadily warmer with each passing second – okay maybe Eddie was the one getting warmer as he heard Buck dragging the towel over his body. He could picture the miles of skin behind him, the ink stained to his skin and the cut of his muscles that would flex with each movement and Eddie’s stomach clenched with the imagery. Each swish of the towel seemed abnormally loud, and the bathroom felt like it was getting smaller with each passing second.

“I hope not,” Buck said, the frown evident in his voice.

“We’ll call a vet,” Eddie assured him. “Get her checked out and make sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Ed’s,” Buck said.

Eddie listened to Buck pull on his clothes and when he finally peeked on over his shoulder, he was both relieved and disappointed that Buck was dressed. He looked a lot warmer now and Eddie made a mental note to put the kettle to make Buck a hot drink.

“You know Chris is going to beg for a dog now,” Eddie said, shooting a playful glare at Buck as he picked up the now damp dog. Hie glare weakened as the dog leaned up and licked under Eddie’s chin.

Buck grinned, cheeks now flushed and lips no longer blue. “She likes you.” He reached out, taking the dog from Eddie’s arms and hugged her to his chest. “Besides, Chris should have a dog.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Buck,” he warned, stooping to pick up the wet towels and Buck’s wet clothes.

“Come on, Ed’s,” Buck pleaded, following Eddie out of the bathroom, through the bedroom and to the laundry room. “Every kid should have a pet!”

“You’re as bad as Chris,” Eddie teased, throwing the towels and Buck’s clothes into the washing machine. He glanced at Buck who was giving the dog little scratches to his head, smoothing down the floppy ears every known and then. His heart softened at the sight, and he swallowed thickly. “Hey, don’t go getting to attached. She might have a home waiting for her.”

“Yeah, I know,” Buck said with a pout.

Eddie licked his lips, body swaying forward towards Buck with the urge to kiss that pout straight off his lips. He jerked back, catching himself before he could embarrass himself. He spun around, busy himself with pouring laundry liquid into the machine to hide the pink he knew his cheeks had taken on.

Eddie cleared his throat. “Why don’t you go show Chris who you found. Maybe he’s seen her at the park before and knows who she belongs too.”

“Come on,” Buck cooed to the dog. “Let me introduce you to the best kid ever.”

And how was Eddie supposed to not fall in love with Evan Buckley when he said shit like this? It was unfair. Eddie was just a man, and he was powerless against the charm that was Buck.

“A dog!” Chris squealed loudly from the living room, the sound nearly knocking Eddie off his feet because he loved hearing Chris’s happy little squeals and joyful laughs.

By the time Eddie had loaded the washing and started the cycle, fallen a little bit more in love with Buck, and made his way to the living room, Chris and the dog were best friends. He leaned against the doorframe, watching with what Chimney would call his heart-eyes, as Chriss giggled, giving the upside down, belly-up dog a tummy rub.

The sight of the dog’s ribs had Eddie moving to the kitchen and rummaging up some food for her. He placed it in a bowl and brought it out to the living room. At the scent of food, the pup wriggled and flopped onto her front, getting to its paws. There was a limp as she hurried to Eddie, her tail wagging back and forth and rapidly.

“Whoa! She’s hungry,” Chris commented when Eddie had put the bowl down and the gold retriever started wolfing down the food.

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, sharing a significant look with Buck. It was a testament as to how well they knew each other when Buck nodded, his face pulling into a grimace. The idea that she had simply slipped from someone’s backyard was growing less and less and abandonment was looking most likely.

“Are you hungry to, mijo?” Eddie asked. “I’ve got sandwiches made up.”

Chris made an affirmative noise and with a quick pat to the dogs back he shuffled towards the kitchen.

“I’ll look for a vet,” Buck said, pulling out his phone.

Eddie gently gripped Buck’s wrist, giving it a light squeeze. “Lunch first. Then we’ll do all of that.”

Buck nodded and Eddie watched as his shoulder’s relaxed. “Okay. Thanks, Ed’s.” He gave him one of those smiles, all soft and warm around the edges, slow and just for Eddie.

And Eddie knew in that moment there was going to be a dog in his future, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

~*~

Time usually moved swiftly but, in this case, she marched. Eddie was now the proud new owner of a new dog bed, collar, lead, drinking and food bowl, food, and about half a store worth of dog toys all before dinner time.

When they had finished lunch, Buck had been on the phone to a vet while Eddie and Chris kept their new house guest company. Buck ducked out to get “a few things” and came back with half the pet store. Eddie wanted to be mad, but he couldn’t, not when Buck and Chris were alight with happiness and Rosie (“She needs a name, dad!”) fell asleep across his lap as to his rhythmic pats as they watched a movie.

When Eddie had finally gotten Chris into bed, Rosie curled up on her new bed on his bedroom floor, Eddie went to the living room and accepted the beer that Buck offered him.

“I am not raising this dog alone,” Eddie warned Buck, sinking into the couch beside him.

Buck grinned at him, blue eyes twinkling in the low light. “Ed’s, I didn’t think you would cave this fast.”

Eddie huffed. “You know damn well I had no choice, not between you and Chris with those damn eyes of yours.”

Buck cackled loudly and Eddie watched unashamedly, smiling around the lip of his beer bottle. He took a swig as Buck calmed himself down. He nearly choked on it his mouthful when Buck laid a hand on his thigh, fingers splayed over the fabric of his jeans. He stared at Buck’s hand for a beat before looking to Buck.

The younger man was already staring at him, a shy smile on his lips. “I’ll raise Rosie with you.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. He leaned forward, plucking the beer from Buck’s other hand and placed both bottles on the coffee table. He leaned back, shifting slightly so that they were facing each other.  Buck’s hand remained on his thigh, the heat of his palm burning into Eddie’s skin, driving him crazy.

His eyes flicked over Buck’s face, taking in the nerves that lingered behind his shy and hopeful smile.

“You should probably move in,” Eddie blurted out.

Buck blinked once, twice, before a grin stretched across his face. “Yeah?”

Eddie nodded, his hand moving on its own accord. His hands spread over Buck’s knees, slowly sliding up his thick thighs. “Would make it easier, to raise Rosie.”

“That so,” Buck hummed as he slowly leaned in close. “And where would I sleep?”

Eddie licked his lips. “I suppose there would be room in my bed.”

“You’d share with me?” Buck asked, voice lowering as he leaned in close enough that Eddie could feel his hot breath fan over his lips.

“I’ll give you everything,” Eddie promised, and he should have felt embarrassed by how sappy he sounded but none of that mattered as Buck sealed his lips over Eddie’s.

His hands gripped Buck’s waist as he shifted, pushing Eddie back into the couch cushions. Eddie moaned at the feel of Buck’s body stretched out across his, kissing him deeper, hands splaying across his ribs. The rain continued to fall as Eddie lost himself in Buck and he had a brief thought that in the future rainy days would be spent like this and he smiled against Buck’s lips. He wouldn’t want to spend them any other way.

[rainmustfallts4]

House of Lost Souls ◇ Day 2, Monday

⊶⊰Information⊱⊷ ⊶⊰From the Beginning⊱⊷ ⊶⊰Latest⊱⊷ ⊶⊰Index⊱⊷

———————-⊶⊰*⊱⊷———————-

“Hey, kid, how are you holding up?” Alex settled down beside me, offering me a friendly wave.

“Oh, um…” I scratched the side of my cheek as I glanced around the room at the other patients. “I’m… not too sure, actually…”

“It can be pretty overwhelming here at first.” She shook her head, leaning back in the chair. “These guys aren’t exactly easy to get along with, but they’re not so bad, you know.”

“I believe you. I’m just… not very good with people…”

“Oh, you’re one of those types, huh? Don’t worry, most of us keep to ourselves. So long as you don’t mess with them, they won’t mess with you. However -” She paused, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “If I were you, I’d avoid Blake.”

“Oh, um, okay!” Maybe I should have asked why, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

She pulled herself to her feet and, for a moment, she just observed me. “You want a hug?”

I was surprised by the question and I wanted to say no but… something held me back. I wasn’t fond of human contact, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t need the comfort. I guess she realized this because she smiled, pulling me up and into her arms.

She was much bigger and stronger than myself, her arms warm and comforting. I hesitantly put my arms around her.

“Thank you…”

“‘Course. If anyone messes with you, let me know and I’ll beat their ass!”

My talk with Alex made me feel better, lighter even. I was grateful to her for reaching out to me, and I kept it with me for the rest of the day. It gave me motivation to get out and actually do something productive.

I started out by taking care of the garden.

Then I worked on Yoga. It was getting easier to get into and maintain the poses. I actually felt quite proud of myself!

Dominic was nearby, using the telescope to gaze up at the sky. Suddenly, he let out a loud scream, nearly making me fall over. When I glanced over at him, he turned to run inside, screaming something about a meteor coming to kill him.

I blinked dumbly, watching as he made his way back inside. I glanced at the sky, seeing nothing. I even checked the telescope and still saw nothing. Had he imagined it? Or did he see something that just looked like a meteor?

With a sigh, I put my fingers through the chain-link fence, resting my forehead against the cool metal. The area near me is so pretty… it’s a shame I can’t actually enjoy it.

Shaking my head, I returned to yoga, trying to clear my head. The sooner I complete these tasks, the sooner I can get out of here!

After a few hours, I could finally tick off the first objective on the list. I’m making progress!

When I stepped into the bathroom, I stepped into a large puddle. As I often do, I assumed the worst, a look of disgust on my face. Then I realized it was just the sink – it was broken, sending water flying everywhere.

The shower was broken, too.

I frowned at Alexia who was washing her hands at the unbroken sink. “Um, should we tell someone about this…?”

She quirked a brow at me and I motioned toward the sink. Realization came upon her face, as if she hadn’t noticed it before that moment. “There’s no point. If that witch even takes thirty seconds to hear you out, it’ll go in one ear and out the other!”

“What do we do, then?”

“There’s a yearly maintenance check. It’s mandatory or the place gets shut down, so the witch won’t say no.”

“And when is that?”

She tapped her chin, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “I think he came at the beginning of the year, so… maybe four months?” She shrugged again, patting me on the shoulder before leaving the bathroom.

I frowned at the broken sink. How can they do this? How can they let them live like this? This feels more like a prison…

I tried to clean up a little in the bathroom, but it was pointless with the sink broken so I just headed back outside to enjoy the weather.

It was so much nicer than the stuffy, mildewy air inside. Alex was playing basketball, easily beating everyone else on the court.

Despite her big size, she moved gracefully, dodging the others when they tried to tackle her. I guess Dwayne forgot they were playing basketball and not football…

My first day here, a woman came and made us lunch. The BLTs were excellent! I quickly learned that it was a one-time thing. More specifically, Rhys explained that she only comes once every three months just to ensure everyone is still alive. I was just lucky enough to arrive on the same day as her.

Other than that, we are forced to have cheap yogurt, cereal without milk, or granola from a cheap cooler that doesn’t even make the food cold. The yogurt was greek yogurt so it was gross, the cereal was hard enough to break your teeth, and the granola tasted like cardboard. No, actually I think cardboard would be nicer.

I know Alex told me to stay away from him, but… it felt rude to just ignore him when he started talking to me. He seemed nice, anyway.

“Hey, kid. How’re you settling in?”

“Oh, uh… it’s a big change…”

He grinned and I couldn’t help but notice how sharp his teeth looked. “For sure. Took me a while to adjust. You never really get used to it, you just kinda… stop caring.”

“That sounds really sad…”

He shrugged. “What’re you gonna do? We’re all trapped here.”

“But… if you complete your assigned tasks, don’t we get out?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t ya?” he grinned again, but it seemed forced. “Look, I don’t want to take away your hope, but… don’t work yourself too hard, kid.”

“What do you mean?”

He chose not to answer, leaving me with more questions that I liked.

“Blake, you bitchy little leech!” Dwayne slammed the door open, looking pissed as he stomped inside the rec room.

I jumped in surprise, wide eyes looking over at him. Is he… glowing? I rubbed my eyes, wondering if I was hallucinating, but the glow didn’t disappear.

Blake rolled his eyes. “Stop barking like a little bitch, you’re scaring the kid.”

“Don’t act as if you actually care about someone other than yourself!” he growled back, eyes flashing with rage.

I swallowed hard, starting to feel very anxious as the two continued to argue, getting into each other’s faces. I was afraid they would start fighting and I wanted to be nowhere near them when they did!

I quickly escaped the room, my heart pounding inside my chest.

“Calm down,” I told myself softly. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

A couple of meditation seats had been placed in the hallway outside of the bedrooms. I have never used one before and had only meditated once when I was a child – and that’s only because my favorite cartoon character did it. To my surprise, it did help calm me down.

Once calm, I headed outside to check on the garden. The honey was ready to harvest and it looked quite good, but I knew I needed to put it in the collection box. Funds for the asylum are far more important than honey for my own stomach.

I decided to try my hand at flower arranging. Bitches love flowers, so I figured it would be a good way to make money.

While doing so, the outside grill caught on fire! I didn’t even know we had a grill… Thankfully Alex, Dwayne, and Dominic were on top of it. They put the fire out quickly, but the grill was toast.

The nerves I had worked so hard to calm were a bit frayed again because of the fire, so I headed back into the rec room. Only Junior was inside, working on a cross-stitch pattern. Beside the couch sat a basket of knitting supplies. I had always wanted to try knitting, I just never got around to doing so.

“Excuse me… can I sit with you…?”

Junior glanced up at me and nodded. “Sure.” His voice was… strange. I’m not sure how quite to describe it, but it seemed to… echo, I guess?

Shaking my head, I grabbed some knitting needles before settling down beside him. Together, we worked in silence to create something. It wasn’t an awkward silence like I’m used to, instead, it was a comfortable one.

After a few minutes of silence, Junior suddenly exclaimed, “Hey, look at this! Isn’t it cute?”

I glanced over to see the progress he had made. “Oh my grim, that’s adorable! It’s Yamachan, right?”

He nodded, offering me a grin. “Yamachan is my favorite character. I grew up admiring him! My dream is to one day meet him.”

“I hope you get the chance to…”

“Me too.”

Junior went to bed shortly after that, leaving me alone in the rec room. I continued to work on my knitting for a while until I started to grow tired myself. Just as I got up to leave, Blake entered the room.

I offered him a friendly, awkward smile before attempting to move past him but he blocked the way. I looked at him with confusion, realizing that he looked as if he were in pain.

“I’m really sorry about this, kid.”

“What are you -“

He held his hands up, a green energy emitting from them and shooting toward me. In an instance, my body felt numb. I was still aware of my surroundings, but I couldn’t move! I tried to speak, but my voice failed me. What’s happening to me?

“I’m sorry…” he repeated against as he reached for me, tilting my head to the side. My heart raced with confusion and fear, then I felt something sharp against the side of my neck.

A gasp escaped my lips, realization flooding me. He’s a vampire!

After what felt like an hour of him drinking my plasma, he finally pulled back, releasing a satisfied sigh. “It’s been ages since I got a drink! My, your plasma is just lovely.”

I still couldn’t speak or move. My body felt heavy and, despite how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. One second I was struggling to stay away and the next, I was out cold.

I don’t know how long I was out for, but I awoke to the beautiful melody of a guitar. To my surprise, the one playing was Blake. I pretended to still be asleep as soon as I saw him, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

He continued to play for a while before finally sighing, putting the guitar down, and leaving the room. I didn’t move, listening to the sound of his footsteps fading down the hall. Even after it went quiet, I stayed still, scared he would come back.

Finally, after what felt like hours, I slowly pushed myself up. My arms trembled, my body heavy and weak. So this is what it feels like to be drank from… It certainly wasn’t a good feeling and I didn’t want to experience it again. I started to feel dizzy so I sat down at the desk.

I was scared to go out of the rec room, scared I would run into him again and I knew I didn’t have the energy to run from him. I took out my journal and began to jot down what had happened, my hand trembling as I did so. This made my handwriting messy and a bit difficult to read. It’s not like anyone is ever gonna see it, so I guess it doesn’t matter.

The more I wrote, the more my emotions came bubbling up to the surface. I just felt so damn overwhelmed and alone. I wanted to go home, to see my dad!

My dad… he probably hates me. That filthy woman has gotten her claws far too deep into him. I never thought I’d see the day he chose a woman over me, but… I guess I brought this on myself. I haven’t exactly been the best child. Actually, I’ve been a pretty terrible child. Most parents just want their kids to grow up well and then move out on their own at 18.

I overstayed my welcome and ruined his life by doing so.

I cried for a while, covering my mouth so my sobs weren’t too loud. I didn’t want to explain to anyone how I was feeling. It felt too private and I didn’t want to be a burden. Everyone here has their own problems to deal with, I doubt they care about my own.

I wiped away my tears with my shirt, annoyed that my glasses were now fogged up from them. Surely enough time has passed, right? I was careful as I stepped out into the hall, biting my lip every time my shoes squeaked on the linoleum floor. The asylum was quiet, most of the other residents asleep or locked away in their rooms.

I held my breath when I passed by Blake’s room before nearly jogging toward my own. Thankfully, these doors have locks on them! I locked it tight, putting the chair up against the handle just to be safe.

I felt so exhausted, drained both emotionally and physically, that I fell asleep before I could even get into bed properly.

[snaillamp]

Sicker Than Dogs - Part 3

Enjar awoke to an empty house. It was silent and still as he inhaled deeply, sitting up and looking around, dazed.

His room was dim, the curtains drawn and the door shut, but that didn’t stop him from looking around. The second he sat up however, he was overcome with nausea. Groaning, Enjar pushed himself up and out of bed wandering to the bathroom. His stomach was unhappy again. He threw up, not much, but a thick, red slime came up, the remnants of the drink Charlotte had got him.

“I should probably drink more of that, actually… If I can even keep it down...” Enjar mumbled, wiping his mouth, then easing up, off the toilet to wash his hands. He sighed, looking at his reflection in the mirror. Matthew’s shirt was stained with sweat, his cheeks were hollow and his hair was matted and sticking out in every direction.

“Jesus, I look like shit…” He mumbled, turning on the tap and cupping some cold water in his hands. He tipped it over his face, not caring the he splashed some on the floor. Glancing down at it, Enjar sniffed, thinking everything over. “I’ll shower, then deep clean the bathroom… Last thing I want is to make them sick too…” Enjar mumbled to the puddle on the floor, going to his room and collecting his clothes.

He wandered past the linen cupboard in the hallway, grabbing a fresh towel and locking himself into the bathroom, ready for that hot, steaming shower he had been deprived of before. He didn’t enjoy how cold it was, when his entire body was exposed to the air.

His bones were already feeling jittery and the lack of hot water streaming over his skin was only making him feel worse. The water took it’s time to warm up, but when it did, Enjar immediately stepped in. The steam engulfed him as he let the hot water melt away the sweat and slime, breathing deeply as his nose began to drain. He stood in the stream of water for a while, enjoying the steaming hot water hitting his back, warming him up properly for the first time in days. Enjar shut his eyes as he stood still, enjoying the heat, perfectly happy to stand under there for days.

Once he had finished, the man grimaced, hopping out of the shower and drying himself off. He quickly slipped into new clothes, feeling fresher and better, before gathering his old stuff and walking out of the bathroom. He found the washing machine in the kitchen, leaving the clothes and towels inside as he went back up to clean.

Finding the cleaning supplies, he swooped up his hair into a bun, slipping on gloves and setting to work, cleaning every surface. He was on his hands and knees, scrubbing in between each tile on the floor, the bathroom absolutely spotless when Charlotte walked over to him, tapping his shoulder and clearing her throat. He flinched, looking up and sniffing, before smiling weakly at her, slightly sheepish.

“Hey Charlotte…” He croaked, his voice husky and congested.

“What are you doing?” She asked accusingly, holding out her hand for the scrubber Enjar was using. “Go back to bed Enjar.” Enjar sighed, standing and giving Charlotte the scrubber. “Bored… I don’t wanna make you two sick-” Enjar was interrupted by a sneeze, turning away from his friend and hunching over as he sneezed again and again.

“Come on.” Charlotte grabbed his clammy hand, leading him downstairs. “Sit.” She ordered, Enjar obeying, collapsing into the soft sofa with a small groan. Charlotte disappeared, coming back a minute later with blankets, wrapping them around Enjar’s legs and body, before handing him the electrolyte drink from his room.

She grabbed the nearby TV remote, handing it to him and sitting down beside him. “There, watch TV, don’t go scrubbing my floors on your knees, dipshit.” She ruffled his knotted hair. Enjar winced as her fingers snagged in his long, thick, matted mess causing her to grimace. “Oh, sorry! Hey, how about I brush it out for you? Might help you feel better?”

Enjar looked at her tiredly, before nodding once. His spontaneous cleaning had indeed made him feel worse. Charlotte returned with a pink bottle and Enjar’s hairbrush, which was in a desperate need for a clean. “Jesus, Enjar, do you ever clean your brush?” She asked, pulling the excess hair off it and walking off to throw it away. Enjar glanced over at the bottle Charlotte had left behind. He didn’t know what it was, but from the look of things, suspected that it smelled like flowers.

Everything Charlotte owned smelled like flowers.

Charlotte came back and got to work freeing the hair tie from Enjar’s hair, then coating her hands in the thick, white cream. “Uh, what are you doing?” Enjar mumbled, eyeing Charlotte nervously as the cream made thick, squelching sounds. “Just wait, I’m about to change your life.” She smiled, reaching for Enjar’s hair. He flinched back for a second, before exhaling deeply and letting her go at it.

Charlotte worked the cream through his hair, massaging Enjar’s scalp, as he dozed with a small smile on his face. It actually felt quite good to have the cream worked through his hair. Charlotte grabbed the brush and gently pulled it through the knots, detangling the them with ease, until Enjar was left with glossy, neat, slightly creamy hair.

Enjar had slumped forward onto the arm of the sofa, letting Charlotte braid his hair up, preventing it from getting knotted again. Once she was done, she flipped the braid over his shoulder, “There, all done.” She said proudly, expecting Enjar to turn his head and look at her handiwork, but he stayed motionless. Leaning around, Charlotte smiled, Enjar was fast asleep, cheeks slightly flushed with fever as he perched his chin on his forearms.

Charlotte stood, lifting Enjar’s body off the arm of the sofa and moving him into a sitting position instead. His legs were splayed as he lay back, shoulders slouched and head tipped over the back of the sofa, completely oblivious to the world around him. Charlotte touched his neck, checking his pulse. It had gone down more, and he was definitely less warm. Leaving Enjar slouched on the sofa, blankets piled up on top of him, Charlotte went about her afternoon, occasionally catching a quiet snore from Enjar.

~~

Matthew sighed as he shut the door, shaking off the snow onto the floor. “Matthew Kindberg, you better not be getting snow on my floor!” Charlotte’s voice echoed from the kitchen at the back of the house. “I’m not my love!” He called back, sweeping what he could to the edge of the doorway, before cracking the door open and flicking the snow outside. A small moan made him look up.

Leaning into the lounge room from the hallway, he saw Enjar lying back on the sofa, twitching in his sleep. He inhaled deeply, seemingly relaxing again, before a cough ripped through his chest. Groaning, Enjar’s eyes cracked open, only to slide shut again. His shaking hand grabbed the blankets around him as he lowered himself down onto the sofa, curled on his side, shivering slightly.

Matthew crept over, adjusting the blankets over Enjar, hearing a small mumble from underneath them. The voice was strained and weak, barely a whisper. “Hey Matt…” Matthew smiled, “Go back to sleep Enjar.” Enjar nodded slightly, curling up ever tighter and whining. Matthew felt his forehead, Enjar frowning at the touch, pushing his head into the sofa a little.

As Matthew left the room, he heard Enjar cough again, groaning softly in annoyance, then sniffing hard. Gaining into the kitchen, Matthew made a beeline for Charlotte, grabbing her waist and pulling her close.

“Hello my beautiful nurse…” He mumbled in her ear. “How are you this fine evening?” He kissed Charlotte’s cheek, then moved his way to her lips, the two of them standing in the kitchen, oblivious to the world as they kissed each other passionately.

After stopping to catch their breaths for a moment, Charlotte leaned back, looking at her husband’s face. “Well… hello to you too my valiant coast guard.” She breathed, going back in for another kiss. They shuffled backwards, Charlotte ending up perched on the dining room table, legs wrapped around Matthew, pulling him close, her hands gripping his hair tightly.

They both softly moaned through the kisses, neither of them hearing the gentle footsteps padding down the hall.

~~

Enjar was halfway between consciousness and sweet, sweet unconsciousness when he heard sounds coming from down the hall. Soft giggles and moans, muffled by the walls and… something else made him crack open his left eye, looking for the source of the sound.

It continued, the sound of a chair or something being scraped across the floor and then a small giggle from Charlotte made Enjar roll his eyes, pulling the blanket over his ears. ‘I swear to god… If I hear what I think I’m about to hear…’ He thought, sighing as he sat up. His head was pounding and throat was dry, but he didn’t want to drink the electrolyte stuff anymore. It was starting to taste like piss.

Grunting softly, Enjar shakily wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, and trudged to the kitchen for a cup. The sounds got louder, and Enjar could only imagine what he’d find when he got there, rationalising in his mind that he’d just ignore them and probably go straight back to bed.

He stood in the doorway for a second, watching Charlotte’s hands snake under the hem of Matthew’s shirt. Matthew’s hands were gripping Charlotte’s hair as her legs pulled him even closer to her hips, Matthew shuddering slightly as her hands felt their way around his torso. They hadn’t even noticed Enjar was there.

Smirking, Enjar decided to see how long he could push it, shuffling quietly into the kitchen, grabbing a mug from the cupboard and filling it with water. Matthew moaned softly into Charlotte’s mouth as Enjar leaned heavily on the sink, sipping the water in amusement, gazing out the window into the snowy yard. He finished his water, placing it by the sink and sniffing, beginning to shuffle back out of the kitchen when Charlotte gasped.

“Oh my god, Enjar! I’m so sorry!” Enjar turned slowly, as his two friends jumped apart, both blushing red. “Oh… don’t let me stop you from doing… whatever that was.” He croaked, clearing his throat with a knowing smirk.

“We didn’t wake you did we?” Charlotte asked anxiously, running her hands through her hair to try and retain some semblance of dignity. “Nnhh… not really.” Mumbled Enjar, sighing as he rubbed his aching forehead. “Well, I’ll leave you two… to it…” He grimaced again, holding his head in his hands, dropping the blanket from around his shoulders.

“Enjar?” Matthew asked concerned, as Enjar’s body swayed, Enjar reaching out for the doorframe and leaning against it, sliding slowly to his knees.

“Enjar? What’s wrong?” Charlotte hopped off the table, going to her friend’s side and looking into his eyes. Enjar’s face was tense as he gasped, panting through the pain. “Head…” He whispered, gritting his teeth and wincing.

“Lie back, lie back…” Charlotte guided Enjar onto his back, as he tilted his head back as far as he could, pressing it into the hard floor. “It’s like… migraine… but… so much worse…” He whispered, crying out in pain as his breathing grew faster. Enjar’s head felt like it was being crushed in a vice, pain behind his eyes hurting him as he felt a hand on his chest and another stroking his hair. There was a buzzing, like a voice in the distance, but the ringing in his ears was getting too loud, to painful…

A pain exploded through his head, causing him to arch his back and cry out, his hand flying to his right ear. It felt like he had been stabbed through the head. All of a sudden, everything was quieter, his left ear ringing a little still, but the pain now a fuzzy, dull throb rippling though his head. His throat felt dry and swollen, his stomach still ached, but his ears seemed to almost disappear.

Enjar moaned in relief as his body slowed down, catching his breath and gazing at the ceiling in a daze. He could still feel the hands, one over his heart, the other in his hair, cradling his head. His eyes felt heavy… they began to slide shut as Matthew’s worried voice spoke from far away somewhere behind him… “Charlotte… there’s blood…”

~~

Enjar groaned in Matthew’s lap as Charlotte felt his chest, feeling his heart pounding in in his chest “Charlotte… there’s blood.” Matthew murmured, turning Enjar’s head to show her the trickle of blood coming out of his right ear. “His eardrum.” Charlotte spoke, serious and flat. “Sit him up, his ear drum is ruptured, I need to see.” Matthew heaved the unconscious lighthouse keeper up, leaning him against the wall of the kitchen. “Is he going to be okay?” He asked with worry.

Charlotte gingerly moved Enjar’s limply dangling head, examining the ear. Blood was still trickling out of his ear, but she peered in, looking for something else. “Look’s like an infection… I really need an otoscope to know though… Matthew, he needs a hospital.” Matthew nodded, nervously biting his fingernails. Charlotte’s fingers brushed Enjar’s ear, causing him to jerk away, wincing.

He slid sideways down the wall, cradling his face, gasping in pain. Squeezing his eyes shut, he bared his teeth, softly growling as Matthew pulled him up again, much to Enjar’s chagrin.

“Enjar, you’re in a lot of pain right now, but we can make it better.” Enjar frowned, turning his head towards Charlotte. “Can’t… hear… like… underwater… hurts so much…” He spoke through pants, wincing as his ear flared up again, his breathing laboured as the pain overwhelmed him. Neither of his friends liked to see him in so much pain.

“Will you pass out?” Charlotte asked, knowing how little pain Enjar could deal with before he went unconscious. Enjar shrugged, Matthew’s arms holding him up as he began to calm down. He remained slumped against the wall, pressing his aching head into it, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he fought the pain. “Stay awake En, we need to talk.” Enjar opened his eyes a little, looking at Charlotte and grimacing, “So talk…” He growled, already knowing what she was going to say.

“We’re going to take you to the-” Enjar’s eyes flashed as they met Charlotte’s with a scary stare. “-Hospital.” He finished her sentence. “I know.” Charlotte looked away, glancing at her husband for reassurance. Matthew nodded, grabbing one of Enjar’s arms, Charlotte grabbing the other and counting down.

Enjar shut his eyes as they lifted him onto his unsteady feet, but the nausea was to much. His knees failed him and his two friends had to grab him as he dropped to his knees. “Woah, buddy.” Matthew steadied Enjar’s body. “I think he’s out again.” Charlotte mumbled, looking at Enjar’s head hanging heavily between his slumped shoulders.

“Mmmh… no’mnot…” Enjar mumbled, opening his eyes and smiling weakly. “Lessgo…” He breathed, coughing a little and his friends carried his carefully to the lounge room again. Charlotte disappeared to find him something warm for outside, Matthew bringing the blanket that was left in the kitchen back to Enjar and tucking him in. Enjar was sat on the sofa, leaning heavily against Matthew, looking miserable. “Hey, you okay?” Matthew asked, Enjar shaking his head in reply. He regretted it immediately.

“I feel like… shit…” He sighed, shutting his eyes as his body shook. Holding back another sob, he tried to breathe, but couldn’t hot tears rolling down his cheeks. “Hey, hey, it’s okay…” Matthew murmured, wiping the tears from Enjar’s cheeks. “I-I… feel… empty…” Enjar whispered, sniffing and coughing as the crying made his nose run.

Charlotte came back with Enjar’s coat and shoes, helping him slip them on. His friends carried in to the car, his shaking legs unable to support his weight as the snow fell think around them. Enjar felt his stomach churn, groaning in an effort to keep it down. When they reached the car, all Enjar could hear was the constant ringing in his ears, the gravel crunching beneath his feet and the distant murmurs of his friends.

His eyes slid shut, and when he opened them again, he was sitting in the car, seat belt strapped around him. Charlotte was next to him holding a soft pad against his ear, using another, damp with something to wipe up the dried blood on his neck. Enjar grunted, moving his ear away from the pad, it hurt too much. Charlotte got the message, continuing to clean his neck instead.

In the back of car, Enjar glared at the rear view mirror for a minute, before he sighed, shutting his eyes and trying to fall asleep. As the car went around a corner, Enjar’s body slumped against Charlotte’s, his head resting on her shoulder. She lifted it slightly, sliding the cloth under it again, and letting Enjar rest. He needed it.

As they pulled up to the hospital, Charlotte gently shook Enjar awake. He groaned in annoyance at being woken from his slumber, but opened his eyes, and let his friends get him out of the car. They helped him get inside, the snow outside blowing harshly against them, prickling their skin. Enjar shivered between Matthew and Charlotte as they hauled him over the icy path and into the ER.

It was empty, apart from a guy sitting in a chair, a bloody bandage wrapped around his hand. He looked like he was having a great time, smiling and waving at Charlotte as she walked by, getting out of his seat and sauntering over. Enjar and Matthew shot him a glare and he retreated back to his seat, much more timid.

Once Enjar was settled in an uncomfortable plastic chair, Charlotte went to talk to Karolina, the receptionist. After a moment, she returned, sighing. “Doctor Jakobsen got caught in the storm, he’s not in yet so we’ll be waiting a while.”

Matthew huffed in annoyance, Enjar unmoving. The both glanced at the lighthouse keeper, who’s eyes were shut again. “En, are you…” Matthew asked, “Mhmm…” Enjar replied, still unmoving. “World swaying too much…” He whispered, Matthew wrapping an arm around his friend and guiding his head to rest on his shoulder.

Charlotte peeked at the ear on her side, the right one, now clear of blood. It seemed to be doing okay. “How’s the ear?” She murmured, Enjar humming in response. “Fine…” He whispered again, just wanting it all to be over. If he kept his eyes shut, then he could pretend he wasn’t in hospital… but the smells, the sounds… it was making him anxious. He felt Matthew’s hand stroke his head comfortingly, his fingers gently trailing through Enjar’s braided hair. He hadn’t even had a chance to admire Charlotte’s handiwork yet.

His hand reached up to the braid, and he felt the neat pattern trailing through his hands. He didn’t often braid his hair, he wasn’t very good at it. Anna had tried teaching him once but he kept getting the strands messed up. He smiled softly as he cracked open an eye, finally admiring the braid. Charlotte looked up as he hummed in satisfaction.

“Oh, you like it?” She murmured, Enjar nodding. “It’s good…” He croaked, shutting his eyes again and leaning more into Matthew. The gentle silence, only filled with a few occasional sounds soon enveloped Enjar’s mind, as he slid off into dream land once more.

2 hours later

Enjar sat with the pad of cloth against his ear. He was resting his chin on his hand blinking slowly as the sleepiness wore off. Charlotte had gone to find coffee, Matthew leaving Enjar alone to go to the bathroom, so Enjar sat and waited for the doctor to get in. The old guy behind him was humming and kicking his foot against the ground, the sound very quickly becoming annoying.

Enjar’s hair on the back of his neck bristled as the man left the seat, waltzing over to sit beside him. The guy stank of cigarettes and probably hadn’t showered in a week, given the state of his... everything. But the worst part of all was the fishy smell emanating from him, stains on his thick wooden jumper, fish guts by the looks of things covering his round stomach. He looked like Santa Claus had turning into a homeless fisherman.

Enjar scrunched up his nose, turning away from him and sighing quietly. “What are you in for?” He chuckled at his ’joke’. “Me? sliced my hand open gutting my fishes.” Enjar ignored the man, staring at a poster about protecting his non-existent children from influenza instead.

“Not many young guys around here, if you don’t count the Coast Guard of course, but then again most of them are old now too, hey? You a Coast Guard? You must be, all those muscles. I bet you work out a lot. I used to be fit, used to look like Arnold Schwarzenegger, or… Fabio.”

The man laughed at his flexing his muscles, Enjar shooting him a dangerous glare. However, the man seemed unfazed. “Hmm, you know you’ve got blood all down your neck. Here, let me get it for you.” Enjar watched in the corner of his eye as the man stuck his dry, cracked finger in his mouth. The long nail was stained with nicotine and a layer of what Enjar prayed was dirt. Leaning forward, the man reached out with his thumb, but Enjar moved away.

“I’m fine. Just blood, I’ll clean it later.” He sighed, shooting the man another glare, this time turning his face to show his scar. It was handy sometimes, having such brutal facial scar, it tended to scare off the right people when Enjar tried. However, this guy was not one of those people. “Ah, okay then. Just thought I’d help a brother out.” Enjar frowned, returning to the influenza poster.

“We’re not brothers…” He muttered in annoyance.

“Ah, we are though. Both strong, good looking men, stuck in A HOSPITAL WITH NO FUCKING DOCTORS!” The man suddenly yelled loudly, making Enjar flinch. The man burst into laughter, clapping Enjar hard on the back, forcing him to grunt in pain. Enjar felt the anger in him rise. Usually he’d have enough energy to calm it down, but today wasn’t one of those days.

In a flash, Enjar whirled around, grabbing the man by his collar and holding his face centimetres from his own. “Listen.” He growled dangerously, rising to his feet slightly so he could lean over the guy a little. “I have the most splitting headache right now, and if you don’t leave me alone, I won’t be the only one with one.”

He let go of the man’s jumper, sliding across the plastic seats to the next one over, before turning away from the man and fiddling with the end of his braid with his fingers. ‘Just breathe, Enjar… Breathe… Yeah okay, maybe don’t that stench is making my eyes water…’ He thought, squeezing his eyes shut as he heard the guy slide up to him again. “Aww, I have something that might help your headache Mr Keeper.” Enjar grimaced, ‘No, no, no, no, no… Go away please…’

Enjar heard the guy pull out a hip flask, unscrewing it and taking a swig, before poking Enjar’s shoulder and holding it out to him. Enjar sighed, this was going to be a long night. “Come on, it’ll take the edge off your headache, my brother.” The man poked him again.

“I’m sober.” Enjar responded flatly.

“Sober? You? But you’re so young? How could you have given up the drink, God’s gift to us all?” The man raised the flask again, chugging the contents. Enjar’s muscles tensed as he shook slightly. “Come ooooon, one little sip never hurt no one. You’ll be fiiiiiine.” Enjar exhaled sharply, turning back around and looking the man square in the face. He observed his eyes, his irises a striking bright blue amongst the bloodshot whites of his eyes.

“You wanna know why I’m sober?” Enjar spat, pointing to his face. “I got sliced to pieces by a machete wielding murderer, and only barely survived.” He pulled down his sleeves, revealing his slashed forearms. “My friends? The 4 guys I was with. They didn’t. Before I was sober, every night, when I went to sleep I hear their bodies hit the ground, see them in front of me, lifeless. Drinking until I passed out made me able to sleep, for the first time in months, without waking up screaming in the middle the night.” Enjar’s eyes were dangerous now, his teeth bared as he continued.

“I drank so much, one day my sister found me on the floor, not moving. Not. Breathing. I only suvived cause they pumped my stomach. That’s why I gave it up.” Enjar looked at the man’s pale face, as he processed the information.

Then he laughed.

“That’s a good excuse.” He giggled, taking another sip of his flask. Enjar growled, snatching it from him and pouring it out onto the floor. Then he dropped it with a clatter in the puddle of what looked and smelled like rum, standing on his shaking legs and stalking to the other side of the room. The smell of alcohol was beginning to permeate the air, Enjar grimacing as he began to feel sick.

Memories flashed in front of his eyes, the sensation of the tube sliding down his throat, the sounds of Anna screaming his name…

He sniffed, wiping his eyes of tears as Matthew came back into the room. He spotted Enjar curled up on a seat in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall, forlorn and tired. “Damn.” Matthew joked as he walked up, sliding into the seat next to Enjar. “What smells like Christmas pudding in here?” Enjar felt nauseous, grimacing with a soft grunt, making Matthew slightly more concerned. “Hey you okay?” Enjar shook his head silently, eyes distant as the gunshots of that day echoed through his head.

“Can you get a sick bag please… I’m gonna throw up…” He murmured, voice hollow and distant as he shivered.

Matthew shook his shoulder. “-njar.” Enjar blinked, Charlotte in front of him, frowning. He looked at her with unfocused eyes, before Matthew said his name again. “Enjar?” He sounded concerned.

“What…?” Enjar whispered, his voice even more hoarse than before. “You’ve been staring at nothing for like, a minute.” Enjar’s eyes flicked around, focusing on the guy, still seated across from him where he had been sitting. He was watching with interest, the stench of alcohol now baked into the air thanks to the heating system blasting hot, dry air into the room.

Enjar glanced at the bag in Matthew’s hands, feeling his face go green as he quickly pulled it to his face. He gagged, throwing up more bitter, sour bile until he was left coughing and spluttering over the bag. The smell of the vomit made him throw up again, only managing a little this time, before he shuddered, leaning back against the wall, panting. Charlotte cracked a can of something, Enjar looking at it as he heard it fizz. “Here, it’ll get rid of the taste.” She murmured, holding out the red cola can for Enjar to take.

Sighing, Enjar took it, letting the syrupy drink cover his tongue and teeth, absorbing some of the taste. He knew he’d just throw it back up in a few minutes anyway, but at least it provided some relief.

Charlotte gently took the sick bag from him, pulling a disgusted face as she twisted it shut. Enjar put the can on the floor beside his foot. He couldn’t drink more, it was already making him feel sick, but at least he couldn’t taste the bile anymore.

When she returned, Charlotte’s hand found purchase on Enjar’s forehead for the umpteenth time that day feeling his temperature. “It’s gone up again, I’m sure.” She said quietly to Matthew, who looked up, concerned. “Do you want to take off your jacket En? You’re a bit warm.” Enjar gripped the jacket posessively, shivering. He felt too cold to take it off, the mere thought of it making him shudder more. “That’s a no then…” Charlotte mumbled, pulling a nearby table over to them and placing Enjar’s can of cola on it.

There was a crinkling of packaging, and then crunching as both Matthew and Charlotte began to devour a packet of chips each, sipping their lukewarm coffees to wash it down.

“I’m sorry…” Enjar whispered, wrapping his arms around his growling stomach and shivering. “Why?” Matthew asked with a mouthful of chips. “I ruined your dinner…” Enjar replied, leaning harder into the wall, wishing it would swallow him up.

“No, you’re more important than dinner, Enjar.” Charlotte spoke up, sitting on Matthew’s lap and rubbing Enjar’s left knee. “I want you to be okay before I even think about making casserole.” She comforted the lighthouse keeper, who didn’t look so sure.

“Oh, got a little feast over here, princess?” The guy from before stood, wandering over to the group. Enjar rolled his eyes as Matthew tensed. “Oh, I love that flavour.” He pointed at the chips, “Glad to see I have good taste in chips, and women.” He drawled. Matthew opened his mouth to say something but Enjar beat him to it, voice tired and hollow. “She’s married dipshit.” He sat up, scowling harder than he had in years.

“Fuck off.” Enjar spat, adrenaline surging through him.

The guy seemed to have no reaction to the response, instead continuing, reaching out to touch Charlotte. “You know, you’re just my type too, pretty blonde hair and such lovely, lovely eyes, you’re a perfect speci-” Enjar flew to his feet, Matthew’s arms wrapping protectively around his wife.

Enjar’s hand grabbed the back of the man’s jumper, dragging him towards the front door. With a loud grunt, Enjar shoved open the door, flinging the guy out onto the pavement, smirking slightly when he landed hard on his butt. The lighthouse keeper glowered as he knelt down and stared at the man, dead in the eyes. “If you come back inside,” He growled dangerously. “-and you so much as look like you’re thinking about touching her, I will make sure you don’t touch anything again.”

A scary grin grew over Enjar’s face, “That’s a promise.”

Standing up, hiding his aching, shaking limbs, Enjar turned and grabbed the door, pulling it shut. He walked straight over to the nearest chair, and gripping onto it for dear life as he caught his breath. Matthew and Charlotte rushed over to him, helping him back to their corner and sitting him down. Enjar fought to keep his eyes open, forcing them back every time they rolled back in his head. His head bobbed as Charlotte sniffed back tears.

Enjar force his eyes open, looking at his friends as Matthew comforted his wife, holding her tightly. She was safe. Matthew was a good husband… a good man… he would keep her safe. He felt shaking arms wrap around his neck gently. “Thank you…” Charlotte whispered, her voice shaking as much as her body. “Don’t mention it…” Enjar mumbled. His headache was feeling worse again as he slipped back into blissful unconsciousness.

Enjar woke with a grunt, sitting and coughing. The guy he had thrown outside was back inside the ER, cradling his injured hand and glancing at the group, smiling at them. Enjar glared at him, shutting his eyes again and going back to lean into Matthew’s shoulder. He heard a giggle. Glancing around, Charlotte had her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her laughs. Enjar frowned, looked at her confused, as she held her phone out to him. Taking it, he and Matthew looked down at it, before both of the men grinning.

“It’s cute.” Charlotte cooed, as Enjar looked at the photo. He and Matthew were fast asleep, Enjar’s head resting on Matthew’s shoulder, and Matthew’s head resting against Enjar’s. Enjar handed the phone back, sliding down in his chair and sighing as he slouched badly. His shoulders were resting in the curve of the chair, where people’s butts would usually go, and he stared down his body, until his knees, where his legs disappeared under him.

Groaning again he grabbed the can of cola, taking a swig. It was mostly flat now but that mad eit easier to drink. That was a good thing, he supposed. Better to get something in him and keep it down, than nothing at all.

His mind flicked back to the photo Charlotte had taken. His skin was pale, skin flushed, eyes engulfed in shadow and cheeks hollow, his hair hanging dull and limp over his shoulder in the braid. He looked terrible. “George, Dr Jakobsen has arrived, he’ll see you first.” The receptionist peered over the desk, looking at the gross guy, George.

George stood up, “Finally!” He loudly announced as he sauntered into the treatment area. “I’ve been waiting for five hours!” He turned around and winked at the group huddled in the corner, Charlotte scowling as Enjar and Matthew both inhaled a long, slow breath. After around 20 minutes, the receptionist peered over the desk again.

Enjar didn’t know why she didn’t just come around to speak to the 20 empty chairs in the room, but he supposed it was for a reason. “Enjar Nielson? The doctor will see you know.” Enjar stood up, only to sway, his knees failing him once more. Dropping hard onto the floor, Matthew and Charlotte pulled him up, his body shaking as his head pounded, ears aching.

He sneezed, the pain in his head blinding him as he gasped in pain. He felt his legs move as he was walked to a bed, his ears begining to ring loudly. “Enjar.” Dr Jakobsen greeted him, his voice tinged with concern. Enjar grunted in reply, as he was sat in the edge of the bed. He swivelled to lay back against it, groaning in pain as he tried to hear everything around him. His ears hurt more than ever…

“Enjar?” Dr Jakobsen spoke louder, his voice loud and concerned. Enjar sluggishly turned his head and sighed, trying to hear what the doctor was saying over the ringing. “I’m going to sit you up, then check your ears okay?” Dr Jakobsen said as he moved the bed, sitting it up and gently cupping Enjar’s ears as he looked into them.

Enjar flinched back from his fingers. “Sorry.” The doctor smiled sympathetically. Enjar clenched his jaw, inhaling sharply as the doctor checked his ears again. “Yeah, that’s definitely infected.” He pulled back, checking the other ear. “Looks like a pretty knarly ear infection, my friend.” Enjar winced, nodding. Charlotte leaned over, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. Gulping, his breaths shuddered as the doctor asked questions about his condition, Enjar getting quieter and quieter.

“Hmm, you seem to have some kind of stomach virus too, and a tonsil infection. We can do some tests and find out how to sort you out, but I want to try and get some fluids into you. Man, you’re really going through it right now. It’s pretty brutal.” Enjar grimaced, nodding and sighing, as he lay back against the pillow.

The doctor left him alone, a nurse coming by with a blanket a while later. Enjar snuggled under it, coughing and sneezing, grimacing at every swallow. It had hurt to swallow before, but now it was worse. Charlotte and Matthew sat by his side, quietly worrying about their friend, until Dr Jakobsen returned, pulling back the curtain, a young nurse following him in. She seemed to recognise Charlotte, giving her a smile and small wave, Charlotte returning the gesture.

However, Enjar’s stomach dropped, he knew what was about to happen. Trying to slow his breathing, he stared at the ceiling waiting for the familiar prick of a needle as the bed was raised so he could sit.

“So, Enjar, uh, we have a new nurse here, she’s a student in her last year of study, and I wanted her to get some experience with… your…condition… Is it okay if she does your IV? I’ll watch her the entire time, don’t worry.” Enjar groaned, looking at the nervous looking nurse. She couldn’t be more that 23 at best. “Sure… just get over with.”

“Are you ready?” The nurse asked timidly, Enjar shaking his head. He exhaled, sitting up a little more to look at the nurse as she prepared the needle. “Okay, um… I just need to uh…” The nurse stumbled over her words, looking a little intimidated. Charlotte watched her and gave her a small smile, reaching out and holding Enjar’s shaking hand whilst they waited. “You’re okay. He’s fine.” She encouraged her, Enjar eyeing the needle angrily as it was unsheathed. “Where do you want it?” She asked, her voice trying to cover her nervousness.

Through the haze of sickness, Enjar could tell she was intimidated by him, but he could never be sure if it was his scars or himself. “Hand-” He tried to say, before a series of coughs overcame him, forcing him to hunch over, wheezing. “Hand, please…” He gasped, clearing his throat as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. The cold sensation of the alcoho swab nearly made him throw up.

Enjar glared at the needle watching it get closer to his skin, biting his lip as the point neared the skin the top of his hand. “Just a little prick, alright. I’ll try and get it first go, but sorry if I don’t.” She murmured, taking a deep breath. Enjar gripped the blanket with his other hand, doing his best to stay still. He glared at the needle, watching it get closer to his skin, biting his lip as the point pricked the top of his hand. It slid in, but the young nurse sighed.

“I’m so sorry, sir… I missed.” Quickly pulling out the needle, she smiled softly at Enjar, who grimaced. He could already feel his mind shutting down. “It’s fiiihh… tryyy aga…” Enjar’s eyes went distant, rolling back in his head and his body going still with a sigh. The nurse froze, going stiff with worry as Enjar’s body sagged, sliding sideways, being caught by Charlotte, who sat him up. His head dangled limply as she moved him, tipping his head back so he could breathe better.

“You’re okay. This isn’t the first time it’s happened.” The doctor began, looking at the mortified nurse. “Mr Nielson has a trauma response to needles, syncope. Started last year after a bad bout of appendicitis. Try again, he’s fine.” The nurse relaxed a little, glancing at the scarred, deep slashes on Enjar’s arms. She wondered what had caused such brutal injuries. She poked his hand a second and third time. “He’s got hard veins…” She muttered, stepping back suddenly as Enjar’s hand twitched. “Yeah, his veins are rollers. Take one more shot.” Charlotte encouraged the young nurse.

She nodded as Enjar twitched again, coming back to reality. The nurse looked into his dark, blue-grey eyes and smiled sympathetically. “Welcome back sir, I’m afraid I need to try one more time.” Enjar’s lips puled tight as he nodded, lying back against the bed behind him, waiting to probably pass out again. “Try feeling for it, give it a little tap.” Charlotte spoke quietly, pointing to a vein on Enjar’s hand.

Enjar moaned softly, “You’re okay, man…” Matthew squeezed his shoulder, “No, it’s fine… I just feel…” Enjar shuddered, swallowing a gag. The student nurse smiled sympathetically, feeling Enjar’s softly shaking hand as he took a deep breath in. She slid it in, Enjar inhaling at the slight prick. “Got it!” She looked up with a smile. “Good job… hardly felt it…” Enjar mumbled weakly, lying back and sighing as his eyes slid shut. He didn’t feel as bad this second time, but everyone assumed he must have passed out again. He wanted to, but his mind refused.

The nurse then applied some medication to his ears, causing Enjar to wince as she touched his right ear. “Oh!” She exclaimed, going red. “Sorry, I thought you were out again.” Enjar shook his head, turning his ear to face her, enjoying the cold sensation of the ear drops draining into his ear canal.

As she left, she pulled back the curtains surrounding them, George turning to look at them with glee. “Oh, hello neighbours!” He exclaimed with glee, Enjar stiffening as he pretended to be asleep. Matthew shot George a look, “Shhh.” He hissed, “My friend is asleep.”

The guy didn’t seem to care as he informed Matthew about the 12 stitches the doctor had just put in his now heavily bandaged hand. George burped loudly, Matthew sighing as he turned away from him.

“Hooray...” Enjar mumbled sleepily.

~next~

~masterlist~

✨Taglist✨

@i-eat-worlds

@emcscared-whumps

[cuppachar]

Tagged by the lovely @fanficfanattic

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like).

For the next WTSE (that will hopefully be up soon)

'Jamie leaves with a grin ‘cause he feels good. He did something good.

It makes this, him, feel better. It’s still not great. It won’t be until Colin is awake and okay, but it’s better, just a little bit.'

and also, this (although it is part of draft and may change) a scene for one of the IA&B AU-One-shots (Steve Harrington Whump fics)

'Eddie pushes past Steve's father, through the doorway, almost shoulder-checking the older man out of the way. Ignoring the protest from both Harrington's, Eddie runs up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. "Steve, are you here?" he calls out. "Where you at, buddie?"

Steve's not in his room or his bathroom and Eddie assumes whatever happened, happened when Steve was mid-way through packing, a half filled duffel bag on his bed, clothes strewn haphazardly across the sheets. Steve had been packing. Steve had been leaving.

More importantly, Steve wasn't here right now.

The Harrington's are scrabbling to pick up the strewn paperwork that still lay scattered across the floor, quietly arguing between themselves, and straighten quickly when Eddie re-appears on the stairs.

"I want you to leave this house before I call the police," Steve's mother hisses.

Eddie stares at the older couple until something catches his eye. Stalling mid-step on the stairs Eddie sees, through the open door of the kitchen, a patch of red on the corner of the high kitchen bar top - wet and smeared over the sharp edge, enough to have dripped down the leg of the counter, pooling into a small puddle on the floor.

"He's hurt?" he sharply says, voice pitched tight with concern and anger.

Richard Harrington scoffs.

"You hit him?" Eddie asks, voice cold and coild.

"It was a slap," Steve's father scoffs in response. Eddie curls his hands into a fist, but manages the rest of the stairs, and the half dozen steps to the kitchen without hitting the man. The blood looks tacky, not quite dried, but not wet either. Enough time to pass to make Eddie realise Steve probably left a little while ago."Hardly a hit."

"The boy's a fool," Steve's mother chips in. "He ran out of here," she gestures towards the kitchen door, which Eddie only now realises is open, a small smudge of blood , smeared fingertips grasping at the edge of the door. "Into the woods, no less," she curls her mouth into a sneer. "Without even putting his shoes or jacket on."

Eddie stiffens, the coiled anger and anxiety now fully alarmed and on alert.

"He's out there, hurt, in the woods, in this weather bare foot?" Eddie whirls around to look at Steve's parents, takes in their disinterest, their indifference, their whatever it was that Eddie had interrupted, over what the hell had happened between Steve and his parents. "It's like 44 degrees out there, and raining.

"Like, my wife said," Richard Harrington dismisses. "Our son is a fool."

(Ooops, that's longer than I expected lol)

I haven't thought about who I'm gonna tag, so i'm gonna cheat and say, hey folks, anyone who's interested, i'm tagging you.

[beatleszeppelin]

Puddles (of Water) on the Bathroom Floor

Summary: Dwayne is sick, really sick, so when Olive has a pageant in California, you get called to babysit. To babysit Dwayne!

Category: Sick Fic, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: vomit, fever, taking medication, lots of crying, swearing...

Word Count: 3.5k

Note: This is an unfinished work, I don't know if it will ever be finished... but here it is anyway.

Babysitter in the Bathtub

You are in the bath, and you hear  a call on the landline. Your mom yells through the bathroom door to tell you that Sheryl called and she has a babysitting job .

You have your mom give you the phone while you are in the bath, hand creeping around the door.

You put it on speaker on the toilet lid, and ask when she needs you. 

“I actually have a weird request.” “Okay shoot” 

“Well, for the school break there is going to be a pageant that my sister wants Olive to be in, Frank is also going, because he hasn’t seen her since he’s been out of the hospital. And Richard refuses to stay home, because of some work thing.” “No, yeah I totally understand, but what is it that you need me to do?” 

“Well Olive was sick last week, with a stomach bug, she’s all better now,” she added, “but Dwayne has it, and I just don’t feel comfortable leaving him alone when he’s sick.”

“I’m available anytime.” 

“Thank you so much, we’ll be gone from the 8th to the 11th, unless Olive wins top three, in which we may have to stay in California ‘til the 14th for some sort of ceremony, but I doubt he will still be sick by then.”

“Do you need me to stay at your house then, or…”

“No, no, just once or twice a day, to check up on him. Maybe make sure he eats something, and force him to take medicine when he needs it, he probably wouldn’t take it even if his temperature was 110,” she sounds exhausted.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, I’ll be over tomorrow morning, what time are you guys leaving?”

“Too early, I’ll leave you a note with instructions walking you through everything.”

“Sounds good, and make sure to call and tell me how Olive does, and wish her luck for me.” You start finishing up the call to let them pack.

“I will, and thanks for helping on such short notice.”

“No problem, and Sheryl, I hope you have a good time on the trip.”

“Thank you, I’ll call you when we get there, bye.”

“Bye.”

Your arm was dripping on the floor, as you hung up the phone. 

Shot Glass of Pink Syrup

Late morning the next day, you knock on the Hoover’s door, after waiting a minute, you let yourself in.  Dwayne isn’t in the living room or kitchen, so he must be in his room. 

A bottle of liquid Tylenol was set next to a shot glass on the dining table, and a note was left on a yellow legal pad. The note reads: Left at 5a.m. He was feeling fine, so he didn’t take medicine. However, Dwayne was up, miserable all last night. I will write you a check when we get back. I also left $40 on the counter, if you need to order a pizza… Thanks again for doing this! 

And at the bottom of the paper was their sister Cindy’s number, just in case you needed to call.

Your feet sunk into the shag carpet with every step down the hall to Dwayne’s room. After the last trip, Frank got his own room, so Dwayne was alone in here. You stood outside the door, left open a jar, seeing him lay on his bed. His sheets were sagging down the edge of the bed, dripping down to the floor.

“Dwayne, you awake?” There was no response, meaning you would need to wake him to take his temperature. It felt strange, entering his room without him knowing. You walked in, shimming in through the crack in the door, so his door didn’t squeak to wake him. 

He lay on his side, in grey sweatpants and a white shirt, face half pressed into the pillow, and his mouth open. His feet were tangled in the remnants of the bedding. 

You looked around, the Nietzsche banner was down, and his room was warmer than you remember, not just in color, temperature too. You got close to the bed, “Dwayne,” you said again. You reached out to shake him, not knowing where to touch, so your arm stayed out for a long moment. 

You set your hand down on his hip, but not letting your fingers grip down to touch his butt. You shook him a little, repeating his name in a louder tone. 

“Mom?” His eyes barely opened. 

“Ummm no, it’s me. I’m just going to take your temperature.” You looked to his side table, a thermometer was laying next to a half full movie theater cup of water. You picked it up, and his head fell back to the pillow, and with seemingly no depth perception he reached for the instrument. 

He placed it under his tongue, mercury rapidly rising. 

After an awkward moment of you standing over him, he took the tube from his mouth. The numbers had peaked at a little over 101. 

“Woah, okay. You must be burning.” You ran your hand up his arm, and squeezed at his shoulder. He flinched away, skin probably sore. “I’m going to grab you some medicine, how are you feeling?”

He didn’t respond, rather shrugging in place.

You walked back down the hall, and straight to the counter, where a bottle of tylenol sits. You pick it up, reading for the dosage, but they all seem to be for children 12 and under. You decide that filling the shot up would get the job done, and return to his bedside, walking tentatively, as to not spill. 

He was more presentable, his hair was laying more smoothly than when you’d left him, and you noticed his dyed black hair was a light brown at the roots now. He was also sitting up. 

You handed the shot glass of pink syrup to him. He shivered, and shut his eyes tight. “You really don’t like this stuff do you?” You picked up his water and held it out to him.

He swallowed the medicine swiftly, gagged once, then his hand shot to his stomach, and the other over his mouth. Dwayne groaned, taking his hand off of his mouth to take your drink offering. Every swallow was loud, like he was trying to keep something down, by drinking quickly.

“I was gonna check on you, then go home to eat. Come back tonight,” you said, sitting next to Dwayne on his bed, “but I could go get food for the both of us, and maybe stop and get you some adult medicine if you want.”

His lip was still wobbly. He hummed a pleased sound, that you decided to take as a yes.

“Should I wait until the medicine starts to work or should I leave soon?” You asked him.

“I am getting hungry,” he said bashfully, setting his now empty cup on the nightstand.

“I’ll leave now, then.” You picked up his cup and took it to the kitchen to fill. 

It fills slowly under the low water pressure of the facet, giving you time to look at the art and pictures that seem to riddle every corner of the house. Photos of Sheryl and Richard’s wedding overlapped report cards with A’s and B’s in every subject and Dwayne’s name at the top. You never knew his last name until looking at it; you had always assumed that his last name was just the same as the rest of the Hoover’s. 

The water had filled and overflowed into the sink. You dump some out before returning it to its rightful place on the nightstand. Dwayne was in the bathroom, so you yelled that you were leaving, and grabbed your keys off the table. 

Frozen Taquitos on a Sick Stomach

An hour and a half of running around town brought you back to The Hoover’s house, with a full tank of gas, a five dollar footlong from Subway, and two cans of soup. No medicine. 

You walk in their front door, and are met with Dwayne sitting at the table reading a book. He stands to offer you help, and you wave him off. 

“I got a sandwich for myself, and I got you some soup,” You set the bag on the table, “I couldn’t get the medicine though, apparently you need to be 21 for that.”

He dug through the bag, and held up the two soups. 

“Thank you for trying, I’m going to eat the soup later I think. Right now I could go for some real food though.”

“Are you sure? That might make you sick.” You got your sandwich out of the bag, unwrapping it, and Dwayne handed you a plate.

“I am fine, right now at least,” he said standing by you at the table.

“You’re free to have my other half.” You slid the plate over to him, and opened the bread, exposing the sandwiches middle. The fileted sandwich had jalapenos covering the top layer of anything edible so he had to refuse. “Just because you aren’t sick right now, doesn’t mean that the symptoms are gone, so you might not want to eat anything too harsh. Just incase it fucks with your stomach.” He was already digging out a box of taquitos from the freezer, covered in ice. “I think I’m fine,” he mumbled as he put them on a plate. He wrapped them in a paper towel and threw the plate into the microwave.

A minute…

He takes the wrapped taquitos off of the hot turntable, and grabs some salsa from the refrigerator. He, along with the plate and jar, go and sit on the couch to eat.

You join him and reach for the remote on the middle of the coffee table. You turn it to Nick, and enjoy the shows about kids going to school, and living without adults.

After a couple episodes pass, Dwayne sits up. He’s pale, and looks like he’s sweating. 

“Are you okay, you look like you’re going to be sick?” You lean toward the edge of the couch ready to stand, just like he is.

Dwayne picks his plate up to take to the kitchen, but bending down must not have helped his stomach. He sets it back down, and slowly starts walking out of the room. He only gets half way across the carpet before he says, “I don’t feel good.”

Almost immediately after announcing, he falls down to his knees behind the couch, and he turns his head away. His fists are tight, and he rubs them up and down his legs. He is shaking, but you can’t see his face.

His hands stop making fists, and he moves them up to cover his face. 

You don’t move.

After a second however, you ask, “do you need help getting to the bathroom now?” 

He nods.

You tiptoe around the coffee table, behind the couch, and meet him still in a ball. He doesn’t lift his head when you approach, rather he tucks it closer to his chest. You place your arms under his armpits.

He’s sweaty and hot, and you assume that his medicine has worn off by now. You walk him to the bathroom down the hall, holding up most of his weight.

You leave him at the door, and ask that he keep the door unlocked, in case he needs you. Then you yell from outside the door, “where does your mom keep the towels?” 

“Hall closet,” speaking loudly makes his voice break.

Opening the hall closet, you see a tower going to the ceiling of towels, sheets, blankets, and what might be curtains, (but you didn’t see the metal rings). You pull out a dark towel, straight from the middle of the stack and surprisingly it doesn’t fall. 

“Can I hand it to you,” you ask, already prepared to close your eyes tight. A skinny arm shimmies around the corner, and you pass it over.

The water starts and you decide to sit on the floor outside, like camping out overnight for a concert. You need to be there for him, just in case he needs you.

Sitting on the floor back to the wall, you play with the carpet. Then after a few boring moments, you stretch your legs out and reach for your toes as far as you can. You can hear water splashing down, and bottles clunking and sputtering out soap or shampoo, or whatever part of the process he may be at.

Wonder if you can do the splits? You stand and start inching yourself down, until your legs start burning, and you topple back. 

Boredom overtakes you and you wander to Dwayne's room and start looking at his bookshelf. Symposium, Thus Spoke, Remembrance of Things… 

The hot water hitting Dwayne’s back felt good at first, but soon the heat overcame him. His head felt heavy, dizzy, and faint. He tipped his head down, and held on to the side of the tub, this only worsened the feeling. The room spun and his stomach growled angrily. “Are you out there?” He could only conjure a whisper while bending down, before he started to burp. “Can you come in and help? Please.” He tried swallowing back this nauseous feeling, but it quickly turned. 

He swiped the shower curtain away, and his hands hit the edge of the toilet, catching his falling body. With a crash he opened the toilet…

And a crashing sound pulled you from your snooping. You stumbled around the doorway, and hesitated by the door, until you heard gagging. 

You opened the solid wood door, and saw Dwayne’s head in the toilet, one leg in the shower, the other dripping puddles of water onto the linoleum floor. The wet shower curtain clung around his body, which was wracked with gags and/or sobs. He heaved breaths, and choked on the mostly liquid that quickly evacuated from his stomach. 

You took his towel off the floor and held it out for him. He soon got a break from his violent vomiting, and wrapped the towel around his body, replacing the shower curtain. You could then help him get his footing and turn off the shower, ignoring the pile of wet clothes in the bottom of the shower from earlier. 

Now, hugged into his own body, he shook, near the toilet. His hair dripped shampoo, and he sat in the puddle of water he had created. His lip wobbled and he hummed a whimpering tone to keep his gag reflex at bay.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to help you,” you said as the first thing since you entered the room.

He cried at your statement. Bubbles from his hair dripped down into his reddened eyes, burning on contact. 

“Where are your washcloths?” You started looking in the cabinets before you could even finish your question. 

He pointed to the hall, and you ran out to the hall closet and the tower of towels. Which sounds like a ride at Disneyland, but now was not the time.

You pulled one from the basket, feeling for the softest one in the bin. More retching stopped your testing, and you returned to his side. 

You put your hand on his shoulder, waiting patiently for the wave of nausea to subside. Guttural sounds and high scents filled the tiny bathroom, making you feel sick. Now was no time for you to throw up, though so you kept it to yourself.

Minutes of retching, dry heaving, and sobs, left Dwayne exhausted with snot and tears all over his face. You turned around for a second so he could put on boxers off of the counter, and dry off his lower half. 

“Can I look now?” You were turned toward the bathroom door, with your hands covering your eyes so you couldn’t accidentally see anything in the mirror.

He pulled at your shirt, since his throat was probably killing him from the horrible gags and sobs. 

Turning, you find him slumped down on the toilet, wearing blue checkered boxers, and a towel around his shoulders. His eyes are a painful red. They are puffy, and pathetically swelled. He still has shampoo falling down his half black hair.

“If you sit on the edge of the tub and lean over, can I get the shampoo out of your hair?” 

He stood up, and sat at the edge. He leaned forward, and sat back up abruptly. He looked to you with a whine and a waver of a frown. You took the washcloth from earlier, and wet it in the sink, then took it to his snotty face. After that you wet it again, ringing it out on top of his head, excess water running into his towel that rest on his tired shoulders.

A couple more times and the suds were gone. He reached up like a toddler who wanted to be picked up and you knew his mission was a similar one. He put his hands on your shoulders to help himself stand, then kept them there as he finished getting dressed in his most comfortable pajamas. 

You walked him to his bed, whence he finished getting dressed. And pulled back his covers for him. The less bending he does the better.

The movie theater cup still stands on the nightstand, empty. A helpful thing that you decide to do is fill it up again and keep Dwayne hydrated. So this time, not wanting to stray too far, you take it to the bathroom to fill. You walk out with the cup, and hear a small noise, and assume that it is Dwayne getting comfortable in bed. The tap runs cold, and the pressure fills the cup slowly.

You shut it off with a squeak, and carry it carefully back to the bedroom, not spilling any more puddles of water. 

When you arrived at the side of his bed, Dwayne had rolled away from you. His shoulders shook and he shivered in his [color] shirt. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You grabbed his trash can from the side of his desk, and thankfully it was lined. “Are you gonna be sick again?”

“I’m sorry,” he whined, and shook his head.

“It’s okay,” you said, not knowing exactly what he was meaning, but knowing what it was about. “What do you need?”

He rolled back over to face you, and his eyes were puffy and his cheeks were red. He started to cry, and you repeated your previous question. “I want… I want my mom,” he choked out.

Your eyes welled up at his request, and you felt it all the way to your stomach. But not a moment later, you composed yourself. “I can call her if you’d like.” He covered his face with his hand, and you heard a muffled, “No, I just want her.”

“May I sit down,” you gestured to the edge of his bed.

He started crying harder, and you made the split decision to sit down next to him. His childlike sobs were loud, and shook the bed you shared. He whined a little, too. 

You rubbed up and down his shoulder, offering comfort in any way you could. Soon, you lay down next to him, and started to play with his still damp hair. 

He bit his hand to quiet the sobs that wrack his body. But quickly you pulled his hand away, so he didn’t hurt himself. Although you were too late and a bruise in a crescent moon shape was already visible.

After a little time, his breathing had become more calm, and his body was only slightly shuddering.

“Hey Dwayne, do you want to try to fall asleep? After a fever, everything in the bathroom, and now this, it’s no wonder you felt like crying. Anyone would be exhausted. And that’s nothing to be embarrassed about, btw’s.”

He peeked out from behind his hands, eyes still glassy from the tears, and he lay his head down on the pillow next to the one you leaned back on. You rubbed his back. His eyelids fell closed, and his eyelashes stuck together from wetness. 

The sun shone in through the gaps in the blinds and lit up his chest, and created reflections across the tear tracks on his cheeks. His breathing was now deep and even, so you eased yourself off of the bed. 

You cleaned up lunch from the living room. Throwing both of the leftover plates away. And then you remembered the clothes in the shower, and all of the water on the bathroom floor that you could help clean while you waited for Dwayne to wake up.

You pushed open the bathroom door, keeping a hand on the handle so you wouldn’t make much noise, then you almost slipped and fell on your ass, so the handle really helped.

[wilburgersoot]

It’s been two weeks.

She doesn't speak to him when she can avoid it, but she takes care. Most days she swims in the stream as a fish for as long as she can and returns at night to sleep, sometimes even staying out all night. She steals food from the kitchen or when he leaves it for her (including a sea-salt and kelp ice cream placed conspicuously near the front of the freezer) and subtly steals things from around the house: blankets, pillows, cushions ...

She lives like a rat in the walls and that's … fine.

And then one day, she stops going to the stream. Things and food stops vanishing. And when meals are left for her, they remained untouched when Wilbur returns for them later. And the door to the bathroom stays locked, and over the course of a few days, things get very, very quiet.

He’s standing outside the door, another dinner in hand. This has gone on far enough. He’d worried sick about her.

“Sally? Sally, darling, please talk to me. Are you okay in there?”

Predictably, no response.

“Sally! Open the door! I’m worried fucking sick about you, you haven’t eaten in days.”

It’s not good for the baby, is what he doesn’t say. It’s not good for her either, goddammit.

"You don't know that," She sighs back.

“Say that to the full fridge and the army of plates I bring back uneaten,” he says crossly. “And I know you haven’t been getting stuff from the river so don’t give me that,”

"I go to Tubburger," She fires back.

“Like hell you do.” He shoots back. “Tubbo would’ve said,”

"He's not working there all the time, Dumbass.”

“Sally, I know you’re not going to Tubburger,” he sounds tired and wan through the door, “Please don’t fight me on this. I need to know you’re okay,” And again the elephant in the room. I need to know our baby is okay.

"I'm okay. Will you please leave me alone?"

“Not until you eat something.” He says stubbornly. “I’ve brought you dinner.”

"I'll get to it. I'm not hungry right now."

“Sally,”

He’s about 10 seconds away from knocking down the door by force.

"What, so I'm not allowed to decide when I eat anymore? You're such a douchebag."

““When you’ve decided to eat” recently has been fucking not at all,” he growls. “Open the door or I’m doing it for you,”

There's the sound of water sloshing. "What the fuck is wrong with your head you psychopath? Talk about creepy."

He takes a breath. “Sorry. Sorry, you’re right.” He rests his forehead against the door. When he talks again it’s very quiet, but she can still hear him. “Sally, please. I’m fucking terrified right now. Please, let me see you. I just need to know you’re okay.”

"You don't trust me at my word. Fuck you." A sigh, "Look, just step away from the door and I'll grab the food. I just don't want to see you right now."

“Thank you.” He says gratefully. He steps away from the door, leaving the food.

Sure enough, the door opens just enough for her to reach a hand through and pull it in before locking the door again. Then she goes quiet, trying to hear if he's still outside or not.

He is. But he’s silent. She wouldn’t be able to hear him.

She waits a minute, then sure enough, tips the meal into the toilet before returning the dish, now empty, outside.

He runs back to door immediately, pushing it wide in the millisecond she has it open, rage and fear bubbling inside him. “Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t you fucking dare try to pull that off on me.”

She does not look good! Neither does the bathroom, to be fair. The bathtub is full to overflowing, the entire floor a thin puddle. Most of the stolen cushions and blankets have been shoved around in the shower and tub to make nests and are probably ruined. There's trash and some old food scattered around in places. Sally herself looks pale, gaunt, and unkempt (which is saying a lot, since she doesn't really have baths or combs in the first place). She stares up at him silent, wide eyed, caught in the act.

He’s not looking much better himself, his hair has been pulled every which way from stress, dark circles under his eyes, a stain on the old shirt he’s wearing, which is inside out. He’s clearly been driven to distraction about her.

But it all melts away as he looks at her and the mess around him. His eyes are soft and sad, reaching for her much thinner cheek. “Oh, Sally,”

He can’t help but also look at her belly.

It's just barely noticeable now -- pregnancy goes faster for her. Very slight -- something that to the outside world would look not even as if she'd gained weight but perhaps had just finished a big, big meal. Only they know that's not the case.

Of course, she yanks away from him. "What the fuck?! I told you-- you said you wouldn't bust down the fucking door!"

“You said you would eat dinner,” he says darkly. “Not flush it down the fucking toilet.” Breathe. “Sally, you can’t live like this. You need … you need to live where it’s clean,” he says pointedly, picking up some of the garbage and throwing it in the bin. He looks at her, pained, “And you need to eat,”

"I'm a fucking adult woman and I can live wherever the fuck I want. You just get off on babying me and quite frankly, I'm fucking sick of it," She hisses, ears flaring up as she sits in a puddle of her own misery.

“It’s not babying to make sure your friend lives to see the next day,” he says shortly. Then he takes a breath, and kneels down with her, “And it’s not just about you … is it?”

She completely ignores that next comment. "Fine. You don't want me living in your bathroom, I'll find someplace else to stay." She has no clue where, of course, but she'll leave if she has to. Anything to avoid him.

He puts his hands on her knees. “You know I don’t want you to leave.” He says slowly and clearly, “but there’s living in a bathroom and there’s living in squalor. You’re doing both right now. And you need to eat. You both need to eat.”

She hates, hates, hates that insinuation, and slaps him hard with a hiss before retreating back, slinking into the bathtub, grabbing a pillow, and sinking under the water, holding the pillow over her head so she won't have to see or hear him.

He rolls his eyes and pulls the pillow away. They’ll be lucky if it’s only mildew in here at this rate. “Sally, you can’t starve yourself to death in a mouldy bathroom surrounded by rubbish.”

She surfaces to spit water in his face and say. "I stay in here or I leave," before she goes back under and turns on her stomach.

“So you can go and kill yourself out of my sight, yeah I don’t think so,” he says roughly, he sits against the wall of the bathtub looking defeated, “At least allow me the grace of arranging your funeral,”

It’s hard to tell whether it’s a joke or not.

A muffled "Oh my God," from underwater, because no, she isn't going to do that. Giving up arguing she just goes silent, waiting for him to leave.

He doesn’t.

She doesn't move or speak.

“I can do this all day,”

So can she!

And he knows it.

He gets up.

“I’m coming back tomorrow. Please eat something.”

He takes all of the rubbish out before he leaves.

She gives no indication that she heard him.