#And suddenly you're okay with being small and your chest caving on itself

[supposedtobestudyingbuthereweare]

Not to sound hysterical but I think that That One friend flying over and cuddling with me platonically would fix me

[trippygalaxy]

I've a SRxReader request:Reader is hurt in the leg in a dark cave.what about a group scenario where needs help?? Wild, twilight,time and sky are enough for me!! Thx!!

YES YES YES YES ABSOLUTELY!! OKAY-- so i do only do 3 characters for group headcanons so I'll leave Wild out of this one!

Reader beginning, boys under the cut!!

OKAY SO— im just posting Twilight’s part because i want this OUT of my drafts and ill work on Sky’s and Time’s part separately but ill link them here once i do actually do them!!

Relationships: Twilight x gn!reader (romantic) Warnings: Blood, mention of wounds/blood lost, Swearing

You didn't know when you got separated from the group, too busy running on survival instincts with adrenalin pounding in your ear as you desperately tried to escape the onslaught of attacks. You'd be lying if you said you weren't scared shitless.

It wasn't suppose to go like this! It was just suppose to be some stupid fetch quest for some stupid...stupid...STUPID SOMETHING! You can't be bothered to remember what you and Link were commanded to collect, not when the sound of howling beasts and snarling monsters bounced off the forests trees so closely.

Oh you were SO gonna punch that merchant if you made it back alive!

Arrows and spears whizzed past you as you fled, pulling at your already tattered cloak, weaving between trees --just like Wild taught you-- as your lungs screamed for air, screamed for a moment's of rest.

A moment you didn't have.

Lessons can only prepare you for so much until you're left to survive on your own. But damn you wished you had Wild-- or even Twilight yelling some complicated instructions in your ear! At least then you'd have the comfort of know someone was there. Someone who-

Maybe it was the blood pound in your ears or your panicked thoughts that drowned out the whistling of a flying arrow.

Before you knew it a sharp pain pierces through your thigh, shooting agony down to your heel and up to your hip. A scream rips itself from your throat as you stumble, pain locking your leg and causing you to fall to the hard forest floor.

'Please make sure you protect your head whenever you fall!' Sky's scolding echoes in your head, his worried tone as clearly as his name sake on a sunny summer day. 'Even if it's just a small trip, you could still hit your head off something hard and end up really hurt.'

Throwing your arms over your head, you brace with gritted teeth as the wind is knocked from your chest. Your shoulder burns from slamming into a jagged root, no doubly bleeding if the warmth dripping down your arm told you anything.

"Shit!" You hiss, wincing as you struggled to your feet once more. The yelp of pain was held back by your bitten lip as your leg suddenly began to burn. "What the..."

You had but a moment to find the -rusted- arrow lodge in your thigh before a horrid screeched rips through the air. They sounded a lot closer than you originally thought. Shit. Shit shit shit!

Your hand hovered over the bloodied arrow before a certain, stern voice bounces through your already light headed skull.

'Do not touch that.' Time gritted out, his stare so cold it almost rivaled the burning in your thigh. 'Leave it in. Only take it out when you have the PROPER medical supplies. Understood?'

Your hand falls to the side, steading itself against the tree you propped yourself up against. Understood, you grump. With a grunt you quickly limped your way from your bloodied fall. No doubly those monsters could sniff you out in a moment's notice, you had to get as far away as you could-- somewhere far and...and...Fuck-- Maybe you did hit your head off of something.

It didn't matter -it totally does- you had to find somewhere to hide and hunker down until the monsters stopped looking. Being out in the open won't help, too much area to watch. You needed...You needed a cave. Somewhere the others would be able to find you and where you didn't have to worry about something coming up behind you.

--

You felt yourself growing weaker with every step, it was torture as that stupid arrow jumped and jolted with every limping step. It sucked. A LOT. But it sucked a little less as a mouth of a cave came into view. It's inky darkness would of had your stomach knotting and head filled with worries, but with pain being the only thing you can focus on you didn't mind the idea of being alone in the void for some time.

The cooler air hit you as you walked past the cave's threshold. It was a soothing cool, not one that had you shivering or nose sniffling.

You slide down the uneven, rough stone walls until you roughly met the floor with a quiet hiss. The small thud and sound of pain gently echoes off the empty walls, as if they were taunting you and your weakened state. You were tempted to tell the echo to piss off, you've had enough echoes for one day..

Time passed. You didn't know how much or how little, but if your ever burning wound told you anything you'd think it was passing all too slow. You had tried to remove the rusted arrow tip, but you couldn't even brush the shaft of the arrow without tears swelling in your eyes. You take it back, this sucks so much more than walking.

You wondered where everyone was...If he was okay. I mean-- he was technically a spirit but you knew that they all weren't exactly unkillable. Which is kinda messed up now that you thought about it--

An echo of your name brings your thoughts back for a brief moment. What did you just say about the echoes? You literally just said--

"Where are you?! Please, just-- Tell me where you are!" His voice...It felt so voice, so worried and...real. But you weren't going to let some stupid echo get the better of you.

"Fuck off! You fucking...echo."

Twilight

Whilst he desperately searched the eerily quiet forest, he had heard your scream echo throughout the forest from what felt like an eternity ago. And eternity spent racing through the thick trees in his wolfish form, his nose nearly digging itself into the ground as he clings to your scent.

You had ran off sometime during the ambush by the rocky side, which he wasn't surprised by-- not that he shaming you for it! It was a dangerous terrain to fight on and he was well aware that you were MUCH newer to this whole adventuring thing. And he would be lying to himself if he said he hadn't felt a wave of relief when he saw your retreating form. He was foolish to think those beasts wouldn't go after you. Or maybe he was just a little hopeful. Hopeful you'd be alright.

That hope was quickly wrenched from his gut when he found a patchy blood trail that reeked of your smell.

The simple smell startled him from his wolfish form, his booted feet digging into the raw earth beneath him as he rapidly followed the scattered trail of blood. The only thing faster than himself in that moment was his racing thoughts. His mind was filled with worries and prayers for your safety, the image of your crumpled, bleeding form had tears prickling at the corner of his eyes as he tried to catch the breath he didn't need.

But it wasn't easily tracking a scattered blood trail with blurred eyes. Fear bubbled up his throat at the sudden lost of your blood, it felt like a wolf's claws tearing up his throat as he was suddenly spinning, whipping his head around in a desperate attempt to find it. But he couldn't. He couldn't find it. And he couldn't find you.

"Where are you?! Please, just-- Tell me where you are!" Twilight choked out, a rasp that hurt his throat more than the fear.

"Darling...please." A quiet plead. A plead for a response, for a hint of your existence, a grief and guilt ridden sound that made his voice sound so foreign. So foreign that it felt like an echo distorted by the cave walls.

....

"Fuck off! You fucking...echo."

Twilight nearly tripped over his own feet as his spinning came to a sudden halt at the sound of your voice. A crackly, dry voice that sent shivers down his spine, but your voice nonetheless. Immediately the man dug his boots into the dirt and darted to the area he heard your strained voice. His heart broke a little at the strain in your voice, like such a couple of words had taken so much energy to push out.

Darting between trees and over turned rocks, a darken cave caught the man's attention and a wave of relief and pride wash over him. Goddesses you were smart, finding shelter to keep yourself hidden and having it be a landmark for your travels? The man couldn't help the fond smile pull at his flush cheeks as he picked up his pace, a new vigor in his heavying -but naturally breathless- chest.

Coming to a skidding stop, Twilight dug his heels into the dirt once more as he stops infront of the mouth of the cave. Though he was desperate to see you, he didn't want to startle you especially when you're injured, so with careful and soft steps the man entered the dark cave with hopeful eyes.

"Darling?" Twilight whispers, "Please tell me you're in here..."

"I said fuck off--!" Your angered words are cut off by a scratchy cough, one bounces off the caverns walls but had the hero's head snapping towards you even with the disconnected sound surrounding him. "...You echo...J-just leave me alone...I don't need my last moments to be made fun of..."

Twilight simply stared, his eyes burning with tears and rage as he glared at the arrow embedded into your skin. Your blood caked around the wound and stained your clothes, making a mess out of a beauty. He was angry, angry at the beasts that dared to chase you, angry at himself for not finding you sooner, angry at the fact that you were left alone to hurt..

"I'm not leaving, not unless you're leaving with me." The hero gritted out, trying to sooth his own raging guilts as he made his way to your side. "You're stuck with me, darling."

Too distracted by his worries for your injuries as he assesses the wound and arrow, Twilight doesn't notice your rapidly blinking or reddening eyes as you watched his spirit form settle by your side. But he does notice your flinch at his touch as his finger gently grazed along your hand, in hopes of comforting you. Concerned eyes dart to yours but the concern soon melts into a sadden look as Twilight noticed your teary but relieved eyes.

"You're..." You shakily breathed with a wavering hand reaching towards his cheek, staring at him with wide eyes, as if blinking once would make him disappearing.

Twilight's hands cup yours, bringing your shaking hand to his cold cheek before he nuzzles into your warmth. It wasn't often the spirit felt warmth like yours, but his guilty mind couldn't allow him to cherish it like he normally would. But he didn't care for his mind in this moment as he heart called for your warmth, even if it was just for a moment.

"I'm real, Darling. And I'm bringing you back, alive." Twilight whispered into your skin, staring back at your tear filled eyes with a determination unlike anything you've seen before.

Twilight was totally going to hit that merchant before you could.

Taglist: @the-cucco-nuggie @baileyboo2016 @birb-boy-official @yourlocaltreesimp @zelda-the-sacred-realm

[3000-200-grains-of-salt]

strangler fig (beat the pulse into your shoes)

{ hurt/comfort, fluff, sensory overloads, apologies, forgiveness, hugs, crying } { jimmy | solidarity & joel | smallishbeans }

[read on ao3!] [read the previous part (recommended)]

After being a toy for so long, everything is too much for Jimmy. Even living in his own body. Joel helps. tw// Graphic descriptions of Panic attacks, Sensory overloads, and Choking sensations/Inability to breathe

—————

"...Jimmy?" Jim's vision swam as his head rose from darkness, trying to comprehend where, who, and what he was. And, more importantly, why his head was caving in on itself.

"....immy? ...ot breathing, you're...!" Someone's words faded in and out. "...okay?"

What happened? Who...?

Reality hit him like a firework.

"..im? I don... oh shi...!" Jim could piece together the alarm in a voice as tears dripped from his eyes.

Everything hurt. Every tendon and muscle and bone so painfully obvious beneath skin held that hollow ache of growing pains in legs that many a ten year old was familiar with—except Jimmy wasn't blissfully ten anymore  and the hands brushing his knuckles didn't belong to his mother and his whole body shook as... he... cried.

He was.... he was crying.

Jim blinked, fog in his eyes clearing just a little as this small, innocent fact seeped in.

He was—shockingly; obviously—crying. Hot tears carved their path across his freckles and over his lips, shed from eyes so wonderfully real. Real like their sockets, like the fibers of hair brushing his cheeks, real like the not like the plastic and wood, wool in his ears, a string around his throat wrapping tighter and tighter until he choked, and he couldn't breathe, he couldn't—

"Breathe! Jimmy, breathe! Breathe, please, I don't know how to— I— you're gonna be okay, it's okay, just— just breathe."

Now painfully aware to Jimmy was that awful choking feeling, wrapped tight around his throat and nestled within his screaming lungs, as he did not, in fact, breathe. Right. Breathing. ...He knew how to do that.

With a conscious effort, Jim sucked in a rattling breath.

Sweet air flooded his lungs, fresh and cold and rushing on its merry way through his blood. He had lungs. Void, he had lungs, and what a miracle that was. The air tasted of honey and ambrosia, intoxicating like wine, and Jim took another greedy, wonderous breath.

As Jimmy's lungs filtered through the air and his heart steadily did its job, the broken records, the cotton and stuffing slinked from his mind like a withdrawing fog.

And once his head was clear, Jim recognized his friend.

His friend, the god, (the one who cursed you) Joel. Just— just Joel for now.

Joel smiled, worry so apparent in his eyes swept away by relief. “Hey, Jimmy."

Jim smiled too, tentative between breaths, letting one quiet moment sink into his brain.

One quiet moment was all it took for Jim's world to collapse.

Suddenly, everything was too much. Every object in the room, every vibration in the air, every sound and smell and taste and texture flooded Jim's senses at once.

Silky soft sheets grated at his skin like sandpaper. Light streamed through the window and attacked him with knives to his eye sockets. Joel's frantic whispers rang like cracks of thunder popping his eardrums.

He had hands. He had fingers. He had dirt wiggled underneath his fingernails and crust in his eyes and hard calluses rough on his palms. Jimmy had arms and legs tangling together and weighing him down, he had and a neck and a torso and ribs, he had skin, ugly, gross, sticky, disgusting skin and all the parts a human should have and it was too much.

There were lungs in his chest and a stomach churning in his torso and a heart beating wildly against his ribs and every organ seemed very obvious in their displeasure. His vision spun, his stomach lurched, and his head rolled like the tossing ship he was an unfortunate passenger aboard. Human faculties worked together in perfect disarray, leading the cacophonous symphony within Jim's head.

A pulse Jimmy forgot he had pounded its rhythm in his wrists, his ankles, his neck; a waterfall agonizing him from where it was trapped inside his skin. He could feel the blood rushing in his veins, almost feeling it pour out his wrists, could feel how vulnerable the arteries were, like they were going to rip open if he touched them and spill their ichor out of his body. Cold air betrayed Jim's briefly-earned respite, he could feel it parching his throat, could feel flesh he didn’t know he had stick together dryly in his neck and set on fire.

There were muscles in his face, maddeningly obvious in a way they'd never been before, twitching and spasming like fat worms trapped beneath his skin. And he could feel them all, could feel their involuntary movements driving nails into his scalp, could practically pick out the individual bonds of fat and sinew if all he wanted wasn't to rip them out.

He wanted to scream— no, he was already screaming, and it was loud and terrible and he couldn't stop. Jimmy clamped his hands over his ears, eyes shut tightly, elbows brushing together in front of him and sending shivering fire up through his nerves. He could feel his eyelids wrinkling and folding over themselves. He could feel pulsing behind his eyes. Tears felt like lava. Light still leaked through his eyelids. His throat was infested with cacti.

There was sand in his boots and cloth on his skin, cold sweat under his arms and overwhelming weight to the skull so suddenly filled with bricks. The seams in his shirt made Jimmy want to claw his skin off; he wished only to tug off the eyelashes glued together and rip out the hair follicles from where they were embedded in his scalp. one million tiny sensations, a million miniscule jabs in his brain turned Jimmy's world into hell.

There were tears on his face and eyes in his head and pain is his muscles and he wanted it to stop.

He wanted it all to stop.

Jim didn't realize he'd yelled the last word until the comparative silence shocked his ears. His throat waved its white flag, leaving him with only shaky sobs.

"...Jimmy?" Joel whispered.

"Are you okay?" Joel's words sounded equal parts concerned, and... and hurt. Had Jim yelled at him? With a monumental effort, he cracked an eye open to glimpse Joel's eyebrows screwed up in worry, barely silhouetted in front of a window spilling fiery light into Jim's eyes.

He flinched (feeling every muscle twitch), eyes squeezed shut again (feeling that repulsive way they wrinkled). It was no use. The blinding light had already seared itself into Jim's retinas.

“…Oh." Jim could feel the bed's shift like an earthquake, its squeaky complaint assaulting his ears as Joel got off. A few moments later, there was a muffled, terrible noise of plasticky blinds lowering and closing, screeching like nails on a chalkboard.

The light pressed against Jim's eyes dimmed. It was dark enough to bear, at least.

“Is that better?" Joel's voice was even quieter than before.

Jim didn't think his vocal chords would even work. They seemed like shredded fabric in his neck, painful and useless. And still, he couldn't stifle the feeling of choking on cotton and forced lines, that thin wire cutting into his flesh, squeezing the air from his lungs and the life from his body he couldn't breathe—

Jim’s own gasping sobs pulled him back into reality, eyes thrown open and catching blurred, dim shapes from behind his folded arms. He forced air through his lungs once more, a stinging reminder that he was real, that he could breathe; even if it hurt and even if he choked on the stimuli, it was worth it. He was alive and that was worth the pain.

It was better than the pull string. Better than being a toy. Being human was worth the steady stream of panic running in his mind like a radio he couldn't turn off.

With Jim's throat being as raspy as it was, he settled for the world's tiniest, most subtle nod ever. He wasn't sure Joel even caught it until he heard his sigh of relief.

The room fell blissfully silent.

Well, almost silent. Jim could still hear redstone wires buzzing faintly in the walls, water rushing in pipes, wind whistling outside, bed creaking, floor squeaking, his heart in his chest the lungs behind his ribs air in his mouth phantom cotton between his teeth pull string around his neck lines and scripts shoved down his throat pull string wrapping tighter can't breathe he can’t—

“Is it the... um... the whole.. The whole 'having a body' thing?" Joel's voice was terrifyingly tentative. His pitiful joke couldn't hide the waver in his voice and the guilt dripping off his words.

Jim could only hesitate, and give another miniscule nod.

The silence grew between them, until Joel knelt down in front of the bed.

“Jim, you're— you're gonna be fine, okay? I just need you to focus on my voice." He spoke slowly and smoothly; with the calm of someone who'd done this before, and the waver of a man betraying he was terrified.

“Can you do that for me?" His words paused briefly to allow another tiny nod from Jim.

“Okay, okay. Y— you might be having a sensory overload, from suddenly being exposed to so much stimuli, after... um... not having that for a while.” The regret and bitterness in Joel's trailing voice hurt Jim more than his head did.

“Jimmy, you're gonna be fine, you're gonna be just fine. Just keep on breathing. In… out.”

For hours and hours it seemed, Jim just let oxygen travel into his lungs, Joel guiding his unsteady mind one breath at a time.

“Okay. Okay. Jimmy, is— would it okay if I just press my hand against yours, to help ground you?"

Instead of answering, JImmy carefully moved one finger against his head, joints catching and creaking like they were coated in rust. He— He could do this. One finger at a time, one muscle at a time.

Stiffly, slowly, Jimmy drew his hand away from his ear. He winced at the sudden rush of background noise as he painfully held his palm out. Unfamiliar tendons and muscles stretched and squirmed and made his fingers tremble, but wasn't long before Joel's hand met his, palms a steady pressure pressed against his own.

“Just focus on my hand, okay? Nothing else, just my hand."

Jimmy centered his attention to Joel's hand, memorized every detail— Patched calluses with their stories of work weaved just beneath the surface; threaded lines traced in spiral galaxies across Joel’s fingers; every crease and fold where his joints lay beneath skin; a pulse beating a steady rythm through layers of bone and tissue.

Jim basked in the warmth seeping through his cold skin, a gentle proof that he was alive. (Jim took another deep, sweet breath, just to spite fate.) The rest of the world blissfully faded away, leaving Jim with nothing but his anchor.

He wound his unsteady fingers through Joel's, fitting them through the spaces and resting on his knuckles.

Jimmy raised his head just a little, enough to see a smile light up his face.

"Hi," Joel whispered.

Jim wearily smiled back from behind his arms, giving Joel’s hand a tiny tap to say ‘hi’ back.

And through his exhaustion, Jim thought this moment was perfect.

He almost didn’t notice the guilt steadily creeping into Joel’s face, flooding his eyes with darkness.

"I caused this. I did this,” he could practically hear Joel think.

"Jimmy, I..." He sniffed.

"I am so, so sorry, Jimmy," he managed. “I— Void, what am I saying… Jimmy, I— I didn’t know—�� His voice broke. Jim let him gather himself for a moment, taking note of his wet eyes when he looked back up.

“The point is, I’ve been really fuckin’ stupid. You didn’t get a chance to hear it, but I’m so sorry, Jimmy. I’ve never— I’ve never been more sincere about anything; Jimmy, I am so, so sorry. I would have never, ever— I didn’t— I, I can’t stop thinking about what I could’ve done, what I should’ve done.”

Joel was fully crying now, tears slipping out past his defenses and causing little more than a stutter to his voice.

“I want— I wanna make it up to you, Jimmy, I really do, and— and I know that I can’t. I know I— that I could never make amends, but— I— I just— please. Y—You probably hate me, but all I’m asking for is— is a chance. I’m so, so sorry, Jimmy.”

“I just… hate myself for everything I caused. I hate myse—“

“Don’t,” Jim rasped. Joel’s face almost snapped out of his grief, although at the words or Jim's terrible, scratchy throat sounds was still up for debate. He took a shaky breath.

“Please, Joel, don’t— don't say you hate yourself. Please."

“You— you don't understand, Jimmy, I…” Joel pulled his hand away from Jim's, line of sight carving through the creases on his palms.

"God of lore," they called him, once.

"He speaks words that twist fate and spins stories with his tongue."

Void, what a story he had told— word by cruel word, bringing nothing but pain and heartbreak.

Jimmy had been to hell and back, and Joel had made it so.

“I— I hurt you.”

He had.

He had hurt Jimmy. He made him choke, had made him bleed, he made him stop bleeding, made him bitter and desparate and scared and hurt and so, so alone.

And now Jim was tired.

He wanted to make this right.

Simply, truthfully, Jim said:

“I forgive you."

Deep within Joel's heart, some carefully constructed dam shattered.

And Jimmy watched Joel, the infallible, invincible, perfect god break down in front of him. He watched his shoulders shake, saw the moment he couldn’t hold in his sobs any longer. Loud, bold Joel curled in on himself, shoulders hunched and hands not quite covering the twisted lines dug into his face and the shining tears spilling from behind them.

Jimmy watched as Joel finally collapsed from far too much grief.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know the right words, the right comforts; didn't know how to soothe the marks left by snapping frameworks of minds. He wasn’t strong, wasn’t brave, wasn’t even ready to start healing himself.

Jim didn’t know what to do. But he knew he had to do something.

He held out his hand.

Slowly, tentatively, Joel's callused fingers brushed against his own. Jimmy's shaking fingers laced through Joel’s, telling him everything his throat wasn’t up to saying.

When his knees wobbled, Jim gently guided him to sit. He took a moment to run his thumb over Joel's knuckles, feel warmth seeping into his skin and the gentle comfort of a pulse. He looked up at the still-weeping god, his mouth a thin line of regret, eyes holding too much pain.

Jim took a breath. “When... I was..." he didn't think he could actually say it yet. It didn't really matter, though, did it- Joel knew.

“…I was only kind of concious. It— it fades in and out, I don't remember much." Jim took another pause, resting his poor vocal chords and meeting Joel's eyes.

“Jimmy, truly, I am so, so—“

“What I do remember, mostly," he continued stubbornly, “Is... well... you."

“You stayed. You— you never gave up on me, so I’m—“ his voice choked with emotion. “I’m not gonna give up on you.”

Jim could almost hear him think "But you should," through his glossy eyes tinged with hope.

"Joel, I forgive you. I'll always forgive you, Joel, all you have to do is ask. And I'll say it over and over and over again, as many times as you need to get it through that thick skull of yours."

That earned him a small laugh from Joel, though it quickly fizzled out into hicciping sobs as Jimmy spoke.

"I forgive you. I forgive you."

Jim saw the sticky guilt in Joels eyes, saw it crash against a flood of muted relief. He saw his pupils drown in confusion as he struggled for words, searching the bedspread for the answer to the question on his lips:

"Why?" he breathed, voice hitching and cracking, like the hull of a ship dashed against slick rocks in the rain.

“Joel… how…” He paused to get his words in order. “How do I even explain why? How could I ever express how wonderful you are?

“I will always forgive you, Joel. I’ll always forgive you. I’ll always give you a second chance because you deserve it.” He shakily cupped Joel’s face in his free hand, letting him lean into the touch.

“Joel, you’re so strong, all the time, maybe— maybe a little too often. You care— you care about everything, so much, you’re loud and brave and kind, and… Void, Joel, you’re amazing.” Jimmy was crying too, now, awe in his voice echoing through every corner of the room.

“I forgive you. I forgive you. I forgave you since the moment I woke up. I forgave you before you said sorry. I forgive you.”

Joel almost didn’t believe him. His eyes flicked around Jim’s face, looking for a tell, picking apart the creases and pores and trying to find some sign of lies.

“I forgive you.”

When Jim’s words finally sunk in, Joel could only press his eyes shut against the tears, and let his head fall onto Jim’s shoulder with a soft thunk.

“I’m tired, Jimmy,” he cried. Jimmy buried his head next to Joel’s.

“I’m tired too.” He let Joel stay there until his tears dried, rubbing small circles into his back and whispering that he was alright.

When an exhausted, half-asleep Joel almost fell off of the bed, Jimmy gently guided him to lay his head down. Joel scooted closer to Jimmy, arms wrapping around his torso as soon as he rested next to him.

“I’m sorry," he said after a while. No longer pained, just exhausted.

“Joel, I’ll say it again, I forgive you, I—“

“What? No, no no no no, not that. Sorry for in— interest— intro— dammit, what is it…” The sheer amount of emotional stress and turmoil that had happened today seemed to have hit Joel like a freight train. Still, he chugged onwards.

And he was about as steady as the aforementioned freight train; except maybe after its engine had been pummeled with rocks, rolled down a hill, and had its fuel replaced with tap water.

“Introspective–information–intent–intact–instead— intruding!” he slurred.

“I— I’m sorry for intruding, I'm just a bit…” he trailed off, choosing instead to make a garbled noise expressing his current state.

"...I don't know how you made that make sense."

Joel hinted at a smile and shifted his position again.

“Jimmy, Jimmy, can I… can I just stay here? For now?“ he mumbled into Jim’s shoulder.

"Joel, you're at your house."

He furrowed his brow.

"I— waaaiittt. How did..." His sentence devolved into incoherent noises.

Jimmy laughed softly, turning to tap his forehead onto Joel's.

“You, my friend, are sooooo, so tired. Too tired to speak properly, you are."

“No.”

“Yeah, you’re tired.”

Joel took a breath. "No I’m noooooooot.”

“Yes, you are.”

“ ’M not tired, I—“ A yawn broke free of his words.

“Joel, you are so tired.”

“Yeah, I am,” he quietly agreed, barely speaking above a hoarse whisper.

Jimmy pressed a kiss into the crown of Joel’s head. “Go to sleep.”

“Okay.” He shuffled around a bit more, choosing to rest his dark curls in the crook of Jimmy’s neck.

Jim noticed that Joel was quietly crying again. His face wasn’t twisted into knots this time— he just stared sleepily ahead and let the tears puddle and slide off his face.

“Joel, you okay?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m okay, Jim.” It was the truth.

“Love you.”

“Love you,” Joel whispered back, sound fading to nothing as he drifted into sleep. The tears still stuck on his face dried as his breathing slowed, and he fell fast asleep with his hand still intertwined with Jim's.

And though he was already snoring softly, head tucked under Jimmy's chin, though no one would hear him, though he know Joel was finally steady, Jim formed his mouth into a whisper.

“It's okay, Joel," he said. "I'm okay."

[shotowoki]

PAIRING: shouto todoroki x fem!reader

WARNINGS: smut, oral (female receiving), it’s pretty much just vanilla sex if i’m honest, aged-up, first time

WORDCOUNT: 2.8k

SYNOPSIS:

You had been dating Todoroki for a while now. And yet, you still hadn't taken things to the next level with him. Perhaps you were nervous, or maybe it was fear. After all, this was all new to you. What would it be like to lose your virginity to Todoroki, you wondered?  

Once again, you were back at the same spot as always. Your lips melting against Shouto's, his tongue gliding tenderly across yours. Even kisses like these had you feverish. From the gentle peck's he left along the nape of your neck to the more desperate ones. You were constantly left a nervous mess. Always getting lost in the way his plump lips came down in an open mouth kiss, capturing your lips one at a time before giving one a delicate tug.

And don't even get started on the way his hands felt in moments like these. His careful slender fingers caressing every inch of you. Gently, he would slip his hand from the small of your back to your thighs, resting himself there. Squeezing so slowly and lightly it felt almost as though he was teasing you each time. Without a doubt, you would feel goosebumps rise across your skin when his hand crept higher up your thighs, his fingers edging closer to your heat. And he would be so close, so close to touching you where you needed him most, but you could never go on. The knot in your stomach suddenly tightening as anxiety buried your body. Heart-thumping, you would lash out your hand to clutch his wrist, halting him in his tracks.

"Not ready, love?" is all he would say each time before gradually moving away, planting one last kiss on your lips.

It was the same each time, and it frustrated you beyond belief. Why couldn't you go on? Why did you feel so nervous? You knew you liked him, and you knew you were ready for him, so why? All these questions and you just couldn't find the answer.

And a new day would start.

Sweetly, you were awoken by the warm rays that peeked through your curtains, the golden hue painting your shared room with Shouto. You yawned softly as you shifted to your side, your boyfriend's face meeting yours as he slept. His eyelashes gently brushed against his cheeks as he snored through parted lips. You admired him in his peaceful state, cheeks slightly flushed, and his hair messily draped his eyes. Everything about him was so perfect.

You figured you should get out of bed, let him rest for a bit longer. As you slipped from under the sheets, you felt those familiar hands wrap around your waist, soliciting you to stay.

"Morning, sleepyhead." You giggled as you turned to look at him once more. But his only response was a hum as he relaxed his head against your back. His breath dripped down your neck, and his lips lazily grazed your soft skin. Suddenly, you felt yourself feeling hot still not accustomed to his touch.

His yawn filled your hearing and he tugged you back towards himself. "Can we just stay like this for a bit?" He mumbled into your ear lowly.

And you did just that, sinking into his embrace. His arms engirdled you, hands sneaking up your shirt where they relaxed. The way his chilled fingers brushed up and down your stomach had you feeling faint. You could feel his body heat across yours as he pressed himself against you. After all this time, he somehow always had an effect on you.

"Did you sleep well, y/n?" He whispered, his lips tickling your neck as he spoke.

"Um... yeah! I slept well. I'm sorry about yesterday, by the way. I just get too nervous to continue." You confessed, feeling a sting of embarrassment as you began reminiscing on last night.

You were referencing the night you tapped out of taking things further, again.

"Don't apologize for silly things like that, darling" You could feel his smile as he spoke. "We have all the time in the world. Don't rush yourself, okay?"

Carefully, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, lifting your arm slowly and placing it back down until he had you pinned. Your back faced the mattress as your head laid trapped between his arms. Heterochromatic eyes wandered around your face, and a tender smile plastered itself across his lips.

"I'm not rushing myself, I promise. I am ready, but my nerves always get the best of me."

With that, Shouto lowered himself, his face inches away from yours. "Do I make you nervous, darling?" A foreign teasing tone laced his voice.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as you fluttered your eyes back at him. Both of you knew the answer to that question, and you were definitely not going to humiliate yourself further to admit to that fact.

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

Cushiony lips met yours in an instant. Though it happened fast, Shouto's careful demeanor didn't waver. As his lips danced against yours, the familiar sensation began to sweep over you; body hot and adrenaline pumping.

He kissed you deeper, tongue coasting against your bottom lip, asking for permission. You didn't hesitate to grant his request, opening up immediately as you drove your hands up his chest. Under your palm, you felt the subtle drumming of his heart. It was oddly soothing to know you weren't the only one nervous. Maybe it was normal to feel slightly shy in moments like these?

His tongue ventured you attentively. With every swirl and flick of his tongue in your mouth, he made shivers trickle down your spine. And you felt woozy all over again. High on the taste of him, you wrapped your fingers into his shirt, pulling him towards yourself.

"Someone's feeling a bit eager this morning," Shouto spoke into the kiss, the corners of his mouth drawing into a faint grin. He was right. You wanted him, and you wanted him bad; fed up with all the times you allowed your nervousness to get in the way of your urges.

Lightly, he pulled away, trailing his lips down your neck. They felt warm as his tongue licked gradually. Shou delicately ensnared your skin between his teeth, nibbling gingerly at what was exposed. Throwing your head back, you couldn't hold back the moans that eluded your lips. Each whine dripped in lust as you felt his merciless lips wander further down your body.

He savored the taste of your silky skin as he explored you. Your sweet fragrance engulfed him; he pushed your shirt up, resuming his embrace. Nose lightly whisking down your stomach before his tongue swept back up. The sounds of your whimpers laced with his name cascaded from your lips. How was it even possible to fall for you more than he already had? Just watching how sensitive and responsive your body was for him had him on cloud nine. Every move his hands made, every stroke of his tongue, and every kiss he settled. Your moans only got breathier, and it made Shouto's head spiral. It was rare that he got to see you in this state, and he knew he was going to imprint this moment into his memory. He was already getting hard at the lude noises that coated your lips.

Those tender fingers of his gradually began kneading you softly, running down your thighs. And the tame fire that burnt at the pit of your stomach was set ablaze. You craved him more than ever, feeling more bothered with every second that passed. In response to the bliss you currently felt, you tried to shut your thighs, get some friction going. Yet, Shouto's body prevented that desire from coming to fruition.

"Princess, are you feeling needy already?" He hoisted his head up, giving you that damn teasing smirk once more. Deep down, however, he was just as desirous as you at this moment, craving to know more of you.

Before you could even respond, he was lowering himself down, peppering your inner thighs in kisses. At this point, you knew you were dripping, a tingly sensation washing over you.

"S-shou... please." You managed to huff out through moans, starving for his attention.

"Please what? Use your words now." His words had you feeling warm all over, embarrassed by his demands. Shouto didn't know why exactly he was teasing you this much; he could barely wait any longer himself. But seeing you flustered under him had him euphoric.

"I'm ready. Just please- you know what I want."

And with that, he obliged, his smooth tongue sweeping up your thigh. Nestling his lips delicately over your core, you flinched under his touch as a whimper parted your lips. Even if it was such a simple action, you still felt overwhelmed by this newfound pleasure.

Shouto didn't waste any time, hooking his finger in your underwear and swiftly tugging them off your frame. You could feel the cool breeze against you as you now lay exposed to him.

"You're beautiful, darling." Your boyfriend spoke in awe at you, admiring your body under him.

"Don't just stare!"

You tossed a hand over your face but Todoroki just chuckled at you, removing your hand from your face. Capturing your lips once more with his.

"Tell me to stop if it's all too much, okay?" Giving him a nod, he took his cue to continue his endeavor.

His slick tongue found its way between your two lips, caressing you up gently where he paused at your clit. Sucking softly, you felt an electric shock overcome your body as he relished in your taste. Dripping in pleasure, you whimpered and moaned his name, hands naturally burying themselves in his hair.

Finally, Shouto got to be lost in your waters, circling his spongy muscle around your clit. The melodious hums he let out as he devoured you delivered vibrations against your pleasure. Body quivering under his touch, Shouto savored the way your legs shivered.

"S-shou, I-I need more." You pleaded through broken gasps.

The best way to describe how you were feeling was almost like you were drunk. Feeling somewhat faint and simultaneously enticed as new sensations encapsulated your being. You've never felt your whole body move in such ways against your control. Even his dainty breaths on you had your stomach caving and your head flinging itself back.

To top all this glory off, at your request Shouto slipped his two chilled fingers in you. Pressing them partially upwards with every thrust. That, combined with his tongue doing wonders on your clit had him pushing all the right buttons. You tugged at his hair and whimpered out for him, eyes rolling back as bliss submerged you. The boiling pot in your stomach's pit overflowing with every calculated move he made. And when his fingers reached slightly deeper in you, it all consumed you. Your breath trembled, and your body twitched as stars overran your vision. A lewd moan streamed out your mouth, and for Shouto, that was everything he wanted to hear.

"Shou-Shou, please... enough."

Beads of sweat trickled down your face as you began catching your breath. Calming down from your climax, you eyed as your boyfriend's flushed face rose from between your thighs, lips coated in only what could be your juices.

"Are you okay, princess?" He spoke in a caring tone, but the way his tongue slipped out to lick off your remains from his lips had you feeling lustful once more.

"I'm more than okay." You responded, pushing a strand of his hair behind his ear, resting your palm on his neck.

His wet lips met yours in a sloppy kiss; you could feel his eagerness as he pressed himself down against you. The bulge in his pants nudged your leg, and you wanted him to unravel himself in you the same way you did. Softly, you pushed his chest, grabbing his attention.

"Want to stop, y/n?" He asked breathily.

"N-no... Shou, I think I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

He could barely tame the excitement that spiked in him, knowing exactly what was coming next. Yet, he swallowed down his desires, wanting you to be sure that this was what you wanted.

"I'm certain."

"I'll be gentle, okay? Tell me if it hurts." He left a delicate kiss on your forehead before pulling himself up.

You watched as he swiftly removed his boxer. Spreading you apart, he positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the head of his dick up and down your fold. Breath already getting heavy, you dripped in anticipation for him.

"Ready?" He confirmed once more, earning a nod from you.

With your permission, he pushed the tip in, pausing as he waited for you to adjust to him gradually. The pressure you felt was near unbearable, feeling yourself stretch around his cock. Feeling full already, you couldn't imagine taking any more of him. You whimpered as you screwed your eyes shut, clenching your jaw as you bore the pain.

"I'm sorry if it hurts, y/n." He cupped your cheek, running his thumb across your bottom lip." I promise it won't hurt for much longer."

Once more, he drove more of himself in you, another surge of pain ripping through you. Quiet weeps evaded your mouth, your nails digging into Shouto's forearm. He took the hint, bringing his free hand down to meet your clit; his thumb tenderly rotating around it to drown out the discomfort. It felt better from there as trickles of pleasure rippling through you. Previous whimpers turned to lewd moans in no time, your pussy pulsating around Shouto as the pain gradually faded. And the last bit of him was in you.

He eyed his now submerged cock, letting out low moans as he felt you pulsate around him. But he didn't want to move yet. Instead, he cherished the image of your pretty self wrapped around him, your head tilted back and mouth open as your erotic voice bounced off the walls.

"How are you feeling, princess?" He came down to embrace his lips with yours as you reassured him of how you felt.

"I'm fine now."

"I'll start moving then."

You snaked your hands around his neck, preparing yourself for what was to come next. Haltingly, he began pulling out. Your walls swallowed him back in, however, and he could feel the pull. A gentle moan choked up in his throat at how snug you were.

"Princess, you're so tight." The low giggle that came after his comment made your body burn.

Before he could leave your body fully, he thrust himself back in. The lack of warning in his actions swept a moan out of you. Lust exploded through you as you sucked him back, and it had you almost reaching your climax again. Your eyes already rolled back as his dick stroked your plushy walls with every pump. Rhythmically, his hips met yours, and gradually you felt his pace pick up.

His body glazed in a thin layer of sweat; he peered at you through the hair that draped his eyes. You watched as his chest rose and fell, groaning at the feeling of being inside you. His pretty voice erupted from his throat and dripped down his rosy lips. This was a view one could only dream of, your beautiful boyfriend holding back from melting at your touch.

Louder and louder you both got, your moans flooding the room. No doubt that your climaxes were edging nearer. Every single thrust was hitting the right spot. The veins around his cock brushed every inch of you as you sucked him in deeper. Your body was overcome with warmth, legs bucking as your euphoria crawled closer. The knot in your stomach came undone as you moaned out Shouto's name. Gradually, his thrust got weaker, his own climax fast approaching. The feeling of being faint came as bliss occupied your sense. You twitched at how sensitive you felt, Shouto's cock still brushing past your walls as he road towards his high. Sloppier his pumps got, his moans getting deeper. He held you under himself, and with one sudden thrust, he whimpered into your ear as his cum drooled inside you, painting your velvet walls white.

You lay still for a moment, catching your breaths as you both processed what had occurred. It had finally happened; you both finally took things to the next level. Shouto turned to smile at you, intertwining your fingers together.

"You did amazing!" He said with a faint grin. You didn't even do anything, but you still felt a sense of pride. "I love you so much, y/n."

"I love you too, Shou."

Carefully, he pulled out of you, urging you not to move.

"Stay still. I'll clean us up and run you a bath, yes?" You propped yourself up on your elbows, already feeling the ache between your legs building.

But you still couldn't help but feel all warm inside as you observed your boyfriend run in and out of your room to tend to you.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E3; Chapter Three, Holly, Jolly - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘠/𝘯, 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘈 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳.

WARNINGS: Mentions of [lots of] blood, use of the 'f' word literally ONCE, uhh, I think that's it?

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

El sits on the floor of Mike's basement, back to the couch. Candy wrappers and crumbs were scattered around a finished puzzle of a beautiful green forest. The strange plastic ship, floating in the air in front of her. It suddenly drops to the ground as her attention is brought to the Supercomm on the couch. She picks up the device and clicks it on, bored with the static that comes from the other end, she soon abandons the device and stands up.

She walks up the steps, eager to explore the house more. When she reaches the top of the steps, she cautiously peeks around the corner. When she decides no one is home and the coast is clear, she continues to explore the house.

With the house to herself, she had more time to linger, and appreciate and explore. It was fascinating to her, and yet it made her sad. Could she have had a life like this? She didn't know what to think when she admired every object, every picture on the wall. There was one in particular that caught her eye.

It was a small photograph, but you could tell it was important. It was another picture of Mike and his friends. Only, they were younger. They were playing and splashing around in the water, a lake it looked like, surrounded by beautiful green trees. Each of them had an arm wrapped around each other forming a line, and their pants were rolled up to their knees.

The young boy on the very left had messy black hair, who El immediately recognized as Mike. He was smiling brightly at her from the picture. A young Lucas to his right, who wore a rather proud grin. Dustin was looking at the two, more specifically Lucas; he had been laughing when the photo was taken.

Will, she believed his name was, had one scrawny arm draped loosely around Dustin, however, he had his full attention on a very cheery looking Y/n who stood proudly showing off a very small frog to the camera. He had daisies on his head, tangled in his hair, and a gleaming smile showed off a missing tooth. He was holding the frog so delicately.

But it wasn't Y/n, or even Mike that caught her eye. It was the way Will was looking at Y/n. His eyes held a certain fondness and appreciation, his smile warm and genuine. El tilted her head ever so slightly, thinking. Something deep inside her was gnawing at her, a feeling that was foreign to her. Shaking her head, she moved on to the rest of the living room.

She went back to the funny chair Mike had shown her and took a seat. She reached over and pulled on the lever, sending her back and forth as it kicked her feet out. She looked around curiously as the chair rocked her back and forth.

El noticed the weird device on the table beside her and picked it up. It was a strange curved thing attached by a curly wire. It had many buttons, every one of them had a number on them. It let out a strange noise, barely audible from the top. She brought it up to her ear to listen to the endless monotone hum. Not knowing what else to do she mimicked the tone, just for fun before putting it back.

She stood up from the chair and sat herself down on her knees in front of the TV. Curious, she ran her fingers down the side until she felt the button and pressed it. A brief crackle of static rang out and as soon as it came on it was replaced with the voice of an older man, the screen lit up in front of her.

"...was occupying a large part of Lebanon. Today, Syria has become a home for-"

Click.

El pressed another button.

The moving picture on the screen changed, where many bright flashes of color dance across the screen. A fake man with yellow hair held a sword as he exclaimed.

"I have the power!"

Click.

"...gift that will last forever. From the Harmony Treasures' collection-"

Click.

A beautiful melody came from the TV set and El's eyes widened in surprise.

Click.

"On the beach and in the sun"

El froze. She recognized the rolling tin can that appeared on the TV. Her breathing began to quicken as she fought the memories back.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

The all too familiar humming and beeping of the machines echoed off of the cold, isolating walls. Eleven sat at the same table, with the same camera facing the same window with the same adults who watch her and study her. Nothing was new, and she feared nothing ever would be. All she wants is to go this over with. Wanting to get the damn wires off of her head.

Yet, she sat still, compliant, unmoving. Never taking her eyes off of Papa as she watched him hand the clipboard to one of the men and give her a nod of his head. She turned her head and attention to the small Coke drink. Her eyes bore into the empty can and she concentrated.

Her head shook ever so slightly as she focused, straining. It was difficult, but she was able to do it. The can caved into itself with a loud 'crack' and it wasn't until the monitors stopped did she realize how loud they had been. She looked back to Papa, looking for his approval.

He stood unmoving, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. She felt her nose run damp, a warm liquid oozed from her nose. She blinked, confused and slowly brought her hand up to her upper lip, realizing she was bleeding. She looked to Papa, expectantly. He only smiled a cold empty grin.

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"Coke is it! Coke is it!"

El quickly pushed the first button, shutting the TV off. Breathing heavily, she stood up and made her way to the basement.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

My back was beginning to hurt from hunching over for so long, but nevertheless, I continued looking. Lucas needs ammo for his wrist rocket, so naturally, the four of us were currently scouring the schoolyard for rocks.

"How about this one?" Mike asks, walking up to Dustin.

Dustin examines the rock Mike handed to him.

"Too big for the sling." He shrugs, tossing the rock to the grass. "So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men, or do you think she acquired them, like... like Green Lantern?"

"She's not a superhero. She's a weirdo." Lucas says as he searches for that.

"You don't know that," I mumble, Lucas, however, doesn't hear me.

"Why does that matter? The X-Men are weirdos." Mike adds.

Lucas turns to Mike, agitated. "If you love her so much, why don't you marry her?"

I roll my eyes, and straighten up, stretching out my back.

"What are you talking about?" Mike sighs.

"Mike, seriously?"

"What?"

"You look at her all, like... 'Hi, El! El! El! El! I love you so much!'" Lucas teases, grabbing Mike in for a hug before getting down on one knee. "'Would you marry me?' I'm telling you, man, you're just as bad as Will!" He stood back up when he said the last-

'Wait...What?'

"What?" I asked, completely thrown off.

The boys freeze, Lucas especially. Lucas excluded, the boys all look at me with awkward smiles on their faces. Dustin chuckles and gives a still frozen Lucas a few pats on the arm.

"Good job, man. Real smooth."

"Guys, what is going on?" I asked exasperated, crossing my arms.

"Shit," Lucas whispers, closing his eyes.

"Lucas..."

Mike wears a triumphant grin on his face and looks expectantly at Lucas.

"Yeah, Lucas. Tell him."

Lucas sighs, and stiffly turns around, his change of attitude dramatic. He looks around once or twice before growing stern with me.

"You, and Will?" He suggests.

"What about us? What does that have to do with- Oh come on... You can't be serious. He does not like me."

"Literally everyone knows he is totally in love with you." He scoffs.

I scoff in return. "Love? Don't you think you're being a little dramatic? Not to mention, ridiculous?"

"Am I wrong?" He turns to the boys, who hesitantly shrug.

He turns back to me, a look screaming 'There you have it.'

"That doesn't prove anything! We're best friends! So what if we're close?"

He laughs. "Yeah, just as close as Nancy and Steve! And you're no better. You just haven't realized it yet."

"W-What? W-what ar- No!" My words are caught in my throat and I felt my cheeks begin to burn.

'No, I don't!'

It takes moments for me to recover. "Okay, let's say you're right. Let's say he does love me. How can you know for sure, huh? It's not like he told you!"

"Uhh, yeah! Might as well have. He didn't deny it!"

My heart stops, and I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach.

'Will? And me?'

"Look what we have here!"

'Oh, God. Not now.'

I roll my eyes and before I can stop myself I speak. "What do you want, Troll?"

My eyes widen at my sudden boldness but I remain confident. I stare down the two boys who have been bullying us for as long as we've attended this school.

"You better watch your mouth, freak-"

"Back off!" Dustin yells, cutting him off.

Troy looks over to Dustin, looking prepared to throw more insults at my brother but something changes his mind and he cools off. A smug smile tugs at his lips.

"Or what?" Troy spits.

Dustin falls silent, and Troy continues.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. What are you losers doing back here anyway?"

"Probably looking for their missing friend." Troy's goon laughs.

Anger begins to take over and my blood starts to boil.

"That's not funny. It's serious. He's in danger." Dustin immediately cuts in.

"I hate to break it to you, Toothless, but he's not in danger. He's dead. That's what my dad says."

'Where's that damn rock?'

"He said he was probably killed by some other queer."

I feel a lurch in my chest, and I can practically feel my vision going red.

"Come on. Just ignore them." Mike soothes, not only to me but to Dustin and Lucas as well.

He's right. I need to get out of here. I storm off, ready to shove him in the shoulder as I pass but suddenly I feel something catch my foot and I fall to the ground. A sudden wave of searing pain explodes on my chin when I hit the ground.

Dazed and confused, I push myself up enough to see a large, rather bloody rock just inches from my face.

I groan, rolling over on my back, I hear laughing and frantic footsteps.

"Y/n!" Dustin and Mike run over to me, Lucas storms up to Troy.

Dustin and Mike each grab an arm and help me sit up. I hesitantly bring a hand up to my chin and I hiss in pain. I look at my fingers and they are absolutely covered in blood.

'Holy crap.'

I groan and look to Lucas worried. He stands firm and tall, right up in Troy's face.

"Leave us. The fuck. Alone." He says through clenched teeth.

My eyes triple in size, surprised by Lucas's actions.

Troy and his friend laugh and walk away. Repeating Lucas in a mocking voice.

"You okay Y/n?" He reaches out his hand.

I gladly take it. However, I get a little lightheaded as I stand. "Shit, that's a lot of blood."

I look down and I see splots of blood already sprinkling my shirt.

'Great. This will be easy to explain to mom.'

"You still have that first aid kit?"

I close my eyes, sighing.

"Crap. No. I left it at Mike's." I sigh.

"We better get you to the nurse's office then."

"No, I-I'm fine." I sigh, wincing at the pain.

"Are you sure? You're bleeding, like a lot." Mike says.

"Yeah, I'm good. As long as I stop the bleeding, I'll be fine.. My body has always been able to heal quicker than most, anyways."

"He's right. I've seen it."

I offer a small smile. "Well, I at least better go get a tissue or something. I'll be right back." I say.

The boys nod, and I head off to the bathroom. My mind wanders back to what Lucas was telling me earlier, and the weird feeling in my stomach returns...

[scribbling-stiks]

Retrievers - XLVIII - Cave Dwellers

*I was going to finish this digitally, but I am currently mentally exhausted and lost motivation, so fuck it. I included most of the characters, so I win. I hope y'all enjoy.*

The wind howls outside. Long sticks scrap against the walls of the cave. Russia cringes at the noise. The cave holds the heat better than Russia expected. Russia continues purring, and he curls up a little more, trying his best to conserve his heat.

Most of the states begin to disperse.  Four people stay against him, and New Mexico begins peaking around the wall next to his head. Russia's fur prickles as a violently shivering Florida buries himself in between Russia's back leg and his body.

'He must be freezing.'

Mexico takes the jacket and boots that America had grabbed from their campsite.

'It must be the stuff I took off.'

'...now I can't even wear shoes. I like shoes.'

Russia pouts a little and turns his head to the outside. He squints against the wind. Warmth trickles out from above his head. He tries to lay his head down again, but tree branches crash together and his ears perk up.

His head pokes up again and he glances at the whipping tree branches.

Suddenly, he feels shifting against his fur, and Texas' hat pokes into Russia's side. Russia almost starts nudging him over when Alabama catches his eye and shakes his head vehemently.

"(Don't wake him up. Please,)" Alabama signs frantically.

"Don't wake him up," Mississippi says, sitting in front of America.

Russia nods and settles on his legs, trying not to jostle Florida or Texas. He turns back outside, but he still listens to the conversations behind him.

"Is Texas okay?" America asks cautiously, holding his light in front of his face.

"Well... not really. He hasn't been sleeping."

"Like York's not sleeping or..?"

"He don't even take naps. This is the first time he been sleepin' since y'all left."

America's face falls and his head tilts down.

"I didn't.._____"

Russia tries to focus on America's mouth, but can't read the words. America makes a weird noise and the blue light flickers. Russia resists the urge to rush over and begins purring to comfort himself.

"Daddy!" Mississippi exclaims, grabbing America by his shoulders.

"America?" Ukraine asks.

"Sorry, my magic... I just.... I'm tired."

Mississippi helps America lie down while New Mexico, Ohio, and Kansas crowd around them, panicking a little. Ohio takes off his backpack and lays it on the ground for America to lay down on. Kansas digs a blanket out of his bag. The blanket is small but better than nothing.

The siblings wrap America up in the blanket. It doesn't cover his feet.

Another gust of wind.

A loud crack.

Russia's whiskers bend back and he flinches away.

His field of vision outside the stones is completely cut off, save for small holes from which moonlight leaks in between the leaves above his head. All the wind sounds muffle and sticks dig into Russia's side. Russia yowls, but he doesn't move away.

'I don't want to risk hurting anyone. I could squish them if I panic.'

His fur grows wet with blood. He turns his head back and finds himself covered in leaves and branches. He feels them dig into his skin and his purring takes on a different pitch as he tries to ignore the pain.

'I can't risk hurting one of them. I can't panic. I'm too large. Too dangerous.'

"Ruby?!" America exclaims, pulling up onto his hands and knees.

"Russia? Are you okay?" Ukraine exclaims, standing up from his spot beside Alberta.

Russia meows sadly and nods. He leans over and nuzzles Texas' head. He knocks Texas' hat to the side and begins grooming Texas' hair to distract himself. Texas shifts and then leans into Russia's neck, still asleep.

New Mexico then walks outside with South Carolina on her tail near Russia's face, bushing back the brush. South Dakota pushes back the tree trunk near his tail and North Dakota shoves her way through. Slowly, Russia feels the splinters being pulled back. His fur expands a little, and he hears a startled yelp and then laughter.

The largest pieces are removed and the states press against Russia and slide back around. Russia growls at the sensation that fills his mind with an odd sense of pain.

North Carolina pushes around with a soft laugh. New Mexico follows him, spitting pine needles out of her mouth. Russia smells the sap in her hair and begins licking at it. She squeals and begins pushing away. Russia grabs her with one of his paws and licks her hair as best as he could. She tries to shove him away, but Russia doesn't listen.

The pine needles feel strange against his tongue.

'I must clean my kin.'

Memories of New York flash in his mind's eye, and Russia pauses. New Mexico takes the opportunity to yank away. She picks her hairclip up off the floor and fixes it back into her hair.

"Okay, EWW!" New Mexico exclaims.

"We might have to get used to it. He is a giant cat," Kansas comments offhandedly.

"Well, that doesn't mean I'm going to like it!"

'We should let the others know we're okay.'

'I wonder if America has enough magic to summon a message.' Russia begins to think, tucking his paws back underneath him. He imagines Massachusetts summoning a message.

'Make a circle.'

'I don't have any hands.'

'God Damn it.' Russia does get curious though. He closes his eyes and finds that the value in his chest hadn't changed. He opens it and static fills his head. He looks down at his paws but doesn't see anything. He starts filtering magic and glowing on the tip of his nose catches his attention.

'Oh.'

He swallows and blinks a few times. He closes the valve as much as he can while still having magic flowing. The images of the strings and fog disappear, and he starts to feel sick from filtering the grey masses. Even still, he finds his connection to the real, physical world, is a lot more solid now than it would be just viewing the magic.

He moves his head in a circle, and a pink disk appears in front of him. It's a uniform pink.

'How do I... hmm.'

'Dixie.'

The pink swirls. A whirlpool forms in the middle. It looks like a sand donut that inverts itself.

Then, the center grows white for a split second before it fades into a new image. It's dark, and it takes a moment for Russia to focus on the picture. He sees Dixie sleeping uncomfortably against a wooden door. Russia meows.

"What- where- AHHH CAT!"

Dixie jumps to his feet and swings his fist at the message. He misses. Russia meows again. "What the fuck? How is a cat doing magic? Wait... light pi- Russia?" Dixie blabbers, his eyes wide.

"Russia?" New York asks, entering the view from under Dixie's arm. Russia meows. America crawls onto Russia's front paw. Russia tilts his head over and nuzzles the side of America's head. It feels strangely muted. Russia figures it's because of using magic.

'At least I'm not completely disconnected.'

The Dakotas follow America and poke their heads next to Russia's.

"Hello!" South Dakota chirps with a smile.

"Hi, Uncle Dixie," Alabama says sheepishly, fixing Texas' hat.

"You found them?" Dixie asks breathlessly.

"We did. They're okay," America says happily, but there is an undertone of anger that makes Russia bristle.

"Oh thank the Lord," Dixie exclaims, covering his face.

New York slumps against Dixie with gitty, almost unhinged laughter.

"Can I yell at Texas?" Dixie asks.

"You'll have to wait," America says, gently smiling at a sleeping Texas, "he's sleeping right now and I'm not going to wake him up."

Dixie scoffs, but his face softens.

"He's sleeping?"

"Yeah. For right now, at least."

Dixie sighs.

"Okay. So, before yous guys get distracted, what are the current injuries."

"Well, I'm missing most of my foot and Finland is missing her arm. Also, I don't know if this counts, but Russia is a cat and I can fly."

"What do you mean you're missing part of your foot?!"

"It was bitten off. I'm fine."

An unfamiliar stream of magic catches Russia's attention. Russia growls, and the growling graduates to a hiss. He faces the tree branches, feeling blind and scared.

"Woah. What's goin' on there, Amy?"

"Ruby?" America asks.

Russia faces outside and hisses before turning to America with a soft mew. America turns back to the message.

"I think we have to go. Sorry. We'll talk to you soon."

America swipes at the message and it dissipates. The cavern goes dark. Russia smells the air, but the only thing that comes to him is the smell of pine and blood.

~

Next

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Table of Contents

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

If you're still up to it, Lewis and Arthur hurt-comfort after the cave? :'0

you got it! here’s a little post-everything fic. i actually had two ideas for this but the other one got too long and i didnt end up using it which is why this took so long lmao

(also on ao3!)

—

    Arthur jerks upright as the darkness of dreams gives way to the more normal, less threatening darkness of nighttime. He finds himself sitting twisted up in blankets, and carefully shakes his legs out of their trap, leaning back on his elbow with a sigh. 

   Yesterday had been, by all accounts, perfectly normal and nice. There hadn’t even been a job for him to get scared on – he and his friends had just spent the day hanging out together, relaxing. Lewis made dinner, and it had been delicious, of course, and afterwards they’d watched a movie that wasn’t even close to scary. Everything had been… perfectly fine, like it always is these days. 

   It’s like his brain just needs something to go wrong. 

   It’s the same nightmare every time, more or less. He wakes up somewhere familiar, somewhere… safe, and at first he’ll be relaxed, going about his daily business – his dreams set up jumpscares for him, which is the absolute dumbest thing he’s ever heard. So of course it has to repeat almost every night, and he never gets any smarter about it. Not once has he managed to see it coming when a door slams shut in his face and traps him, or something he’s holding is suddenly consumed with pink fire, or he turns around and there’s Lewis himself, an all-too-familiar expression of white-hot fury painted on his skull. Back to hunting him like he’d never stopped. 

   He runs every time. He doesn’t even know why. It’s not like it makes a difference, not when Lewis can teleport wherever he damn well pleases and cut off every escape route with a snap of his fingers, when he’s really only letting him run to watch him squirm like a predator playing with its food- 

   With a frustrated growl, he flops back onto the bed and pulls the covers up completely over him. Maybe the grumble is a little performative, to pretend he’s not shaking like a leaf because he can’t shake the feeling that Lewis is out there somewhere, he’s in the house and after him. He knows he’s being irrational, and yet at the same time he’s absolutely convinced he’s right. 

   There’s a soft knock at the door, and despite the fact that Arthur knows he closed it when he went to bed, there’s no sound of it opening before the temperature in the room rises a few degrees. Great. He can’t bring himself to do anything besides lie in the dark with his eyes screwed shut, gripping the blanket over his head like it’s a lifeline, waiting for the feeling of burning heat as the safety of the blankets are pulled off him and he’s wrenched upright and off his feet, as an unnaturally warm fist shoves him back against a wall, crushing him with so much ease-

   A hand, comfortably warm but not hot, barely brushes against his tense back and he flinches at the feeling, curling up a little more into himself. The hand withdraws itself quickly, and he hears Lewis’s voice saying, “sorry- Arthur? Is everything alright?" 

   He takes a moment to make sure his voice will be steady before he responds. “Yeah, I’m- ‘m fine.”

   He can’t let Lewis know he’s still scared of him. He can’t. It would crush him, after all the effort he’s put into making himself seem less threatening. And he doesn’t need to be scared – Lewis has made it more than clear that he’s forgiven him for everything. He’s moved past it. Arthur should have done the same thing. 

   If only every vision of fire and magic and pain wasn’t accompanied by the aching, unwavering certainty that this is what he’s really after. That Lewis is only biding his time, waiting for another opportunity to take revenge on him for destroying his life in every sense of the phrase. 

   The hand settles on his shoulder again, and Arthur prays that Lewis doesn’t notice the suppressed shudder at the gesture. He forces himself to stay still and quiet, tolerating the contact because he knows it’s supposed to be comforting.��

   "You know,” starts Lewis, sounding unusually cautious even for him, “if you’re… having nightmares, or anything, I could…” He sighs, and Arthur feels a slight shifting weight on his shoulder that suggests Lewis is kneeling, or maybe sitting in midair. He resigns himself to knowing that he’s going to have to stand this whole thing a while longer. 

   After a moment, probably gathering his thoughts, Lewis continues. “Vivi and I have been, uh, it’s basically like… cooperative dreaming? I’m still not very good at it, but… if your dreams are bothering you, or… I could try and help with that. If you want me to." 

   And now he’s rubbing small circles into his shoulder, and that and the gentle tone of voice makes Arthur want to scream with frustration. He doesn’t know how much longer he can take this, forcing himself to fake being fine and comfortable with Lewis. And the worst part is, if the nightmares were about literally anything else, he’d jump at the chance for Lewis to help. Because this sucks – but he can’t let Lewis into his dreams. Then he’d know how Arthur really feels, and… he doesn’t even want to think about what comes after that. Betrayal, hurt, guilt… he just knows it’d make Lewis feel awful, and he can’t do that to him.

   He must have been silent for too long, because the hand stops massaging his shoulder and gently runs down the length of his arm before disappearing. Lewis is silent for a moment. Arthur waits with bated breath, wondering if he’s made him mad by not responding. Does he have time to run before Lewis snaps? -but the door’s still closed, damnit, he’s really left no escape – the math runs all too easy and quick in his head, he watches a short simulation of himself trying and failing to get the door open before Lewis grabs him-

  He hears Lewis sigh. He doesn’t sound mad, mostly just… worried? With the static-like distortions, it can be hard to read him sometimes, even though he learned Lewis’s mannerisms inside and out a long time before the cave. 

  “Good night,” Lewis says finally, and then the feeling of warmth vanishes. A moment later, quieter as though from a distance, he adds, “I love you.” 

  The familiar response love you too is at the tip of Arthur’s tongue, but he doesn’t say it. Maybe if he stays quiet, Lewis will be fooled into thinking he’s just asleep. 

—

   He just needs time. Time to relax, to get it into his head that Lewis is safe. And he does, over the next few days, make a marked improvement in how often he jumps at small sounds and how carefully he watches Lewis. 

   You’d think that once he wasn’t afraid of that anymore, he’d stop having nightmares. But no, that would be too convenient, wouldn’t it? 

   Honestly, before this he’d almost forgotten about the original incident in the cave. Or- not forgotten, but he’d stopped constantly replaying it. He’d sifted it to the back of his head while he dealt with his new ghostly companion. 

   So of course, once he was less occupied with Lewis, those memories would resurface in full force. 

   It’s lying in the light of his lamp, having turned the lights on after yet another vivid dream about green smoke and blood and not being able to move, that he revisits Lewis’s offer to have him help with the nightmares. He still wouldn’t call himself comfortable around Lewis, but if it stopped these fucking visions, he’d try pretty much anything. He’d like to be able to sleep through the night at least marginally more times than right now, at least.  

   He doesn’t make up his mind so much as he decides to ignore the very large part of him objecting to the idea of letting Lewis anywhere near his dreams. 

—

   "Comfortable?" 

   "Yeah, i’- it’s- I’m okay. Thanks." 

   Arthur finds himself back in his bed, settling into Lewis’s arms. Lewis tucks him against his chest, and it’s achingly familiar, and it’s too warm and despite knowing that he’s perfectly safe, he feels tense and nervous. He’s not sure he’s actually going to be able to sleep. 

   But just lying down, the past few weeks of mostly-sleepless nights start to catch up to him, and then he’s too tired to think about the ghost or the situation. He can’t remember the last time he’s been asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes. 

—

   This is not the correct setting. 

   It’s a cave, that much is right, but there are no dingy, faintly green walls. There’s no smoke, no sense of paralysis. Instead, there’s sharp shadows and the reflections of firelight on the walls, and a sense of panic, and…

   …god fucking damnit. 

   Part of him feels conscious through the dream, which is probably a side effect of Lewis being present, and that part watches the scene unfold with barely more than vague frustration. 

   There’s too much of the cave. There’s always too much. The tunnels are longer and branch in ways they never did in real life, and the light comes from nowhere as he dodges through a maze of tunnels, seeing continual glimpses of a familiar specter in fire and formalwear charging him. He can feel more than hear Lewis’s thoughts, a sense of surprise that turns quickly to dismay. 

  Suddenly he feels Lewis combing through the past few weeks in his head – nothing intrusive, just looking at feelings – and Arthur knows, with a sinking certainty, what he sees. 

  By the time he wakes up, Lewis is gone. There’s faint glitters of light hanging in the air leading towards the door, suggesting his path out. Arthur debates in his head for a moment, then sighs and gets up to track him down. 

   He finds him in the living room, hovering uncertainly in midair, looking at the ground. He looks up at the sound of footsteps, and lock eyes for a moment, and then Lewis starts to back up, obviously alarmed. 

   "Wait,” Arthur says, and Lewis turns, curling up as he does so into a half-sitting position in the air and loosely folding his arms across his chest. The expression in his eyes is almost… searching. 

   "You know I don’t want to scare you,“ Lewis says finally.

   Arthur hopes he doesn’t visibly wince, feeling another stab of guilt go through him. ”…yeah, I-“ 

   "So why didn’t you tell me?" 

   Arthur stops, blinking. ”…what?“ 

   "If I’d known-! I don’t want to-" 

   "I… know. That’s why… wh-why I didn’t…" 

   "No- stop, listen-” Lewis sighs, looking away. “…look, I… I’m sorry. This is… my fault. If I’d known you were… I just wanted things to be… back to normal. I should have realized…" 

   "That’s not- n-no, you d-didn’t… you’re right, it sh-should… should be. I- I know I shouldn’t b-be afraid of-" 

   ”Arthur.“ Lewis holds up his hands. "I don’t want you to… be afraid of me, but… I get it, okay? I… I know why you are. It’s not your fault." 

   Arthur leans back in the doorframe, not meeting his eyes. "But… I- I don’t need to b-be. That’s why, you- you sh-shouldn’t have to worry about it-" 

   He jumps slightly when Lewis floats towards him, taking his hand. "I’m going to. You know that, right? Just… talk to me. If it bothers you- let me know. Or else I’m going to keep worrying." 

   There’s a long moment of silence as the two stare into each other’s eyes, and then Arthur exhales slowly. ”…oh. R-right.“ 

   The corners of Lewis’s eyes wrinkle slightly, in either concern or a smile. "Promise?" 

   Arthur gives a small smile of his own, squeezing his hand. "Promise." 

[laromurl]

Sick Days

[Part Three in Series]

Kang Younghyun (Brian, Young K)

Cute/fluff

A/N: this was suppose to be part three but I accidentally posted it before part two and I'm too lazy to change it. I know it's just one word but oh well... Hahaha good you guys like it 😄

My nose was so stuffy and runny I was always getting up to clear my nose. My headache was worse and when I coughed, I felt like my vocal chords were gonna fly out at some point. I had a pulsing pain in the top of the brigde of my nose and my ears felt like there was something in them. I was sick to say the least and weak. I hated it more than anything because both Day6 and Got7 had projects coming up and I was leaving all the work to JB and Younghyun.

"God, they probably hate me." I groaned in sniffles as I made my way to my small kitchen. The buzzing of the five heaters followed me to the sink. I had been trying to sweat the virus out for the past few days but it didn't seem to be working.

I put some water on to boil as I cleared my nose and grabbed some hand lotion from beside the sink. My nose had become so dried from the constant tissue that I needed do moisturize it a lot. I leaned back against the counter, feeling a little faint and regretting denying Wonpil's offer to spend the night so he could help me. I felt bad making him stay but I really needed someone at the moment. I was too weak to get up and make myself food or get my medicine.

The door suddenly rang, causing me to jump from my snoozing off. Oh god, that would have been dangerous.

"Going." I hoarsly called out as I made my way to the door. I was in my long BTS' Tata pijamas with matching Chim Chim slippers, my hair was in a really messy bun with portions of strands definitely not being held up, and my glasses with spluttered with water and sweat. I looked like a mess, not even a hot mess, just a mess but I was tired and I wasn't expecting anyone although I secretly hoped it was Wonpil or Jae with food.

I opened the door. I only looked at Younghyun for a split second. His smile growing before I shut the door. Panic and embarrassment kicked in as he knocked again. "Hey! Let me in! I brought food and medicine!"

"Ah Younghyun hold on!" I called back depsite the pain in my throat. I'm a mess! Quickily I ran to my guest bathroom and fixed my hair, spraying water on my face to look less like a mess.

"Come on, I can't wait forever!" He called.

I took my glasses off and made my way towards him. "Ah going going." I sputtered as I opened the door. He smiled down at me before giving me a confused smirk. "You didn't have to fix yourself for me." He teased walking in and slipping out of his shoes.

"Ah shut up, I would have done it if it was the other boys too." I retorted before coughing my lungs out into my shirt.

"Hey, hey come here." He grabbed my arm as he pulled me closer and dropped the bag on the counter. "Younghyun I'm okay." I smiled.

"You're dying and you refused to have Wonpil help. So now I have to be here." That sounded a little rude considering I didn't ask him to be here.

"Ah no." I pulled away from him as the water on my stove began to boil. "I didn't ask you to come Younghyun." My voice was hoarse from both sickness and a bit of sadness. I didn't want him to he there if he felt like it was a chore. "You can leave if you want." I murmured turning away from him and grabbing a mug to make my tea. I really wanted do cry. I was sick and a few days from my period, I was sensitive to practically everything at the moment.

The steam from the boiled water hit my nose right in the spot. It honestly felt so good to my face.

"Someone has to take care of you. Wonpil went to help Sungjin with the songs and Jae went to Dowoon's to practice some more." Younghyun said.

"Wait, aren't you suppose to be working on the songs? I'll be okay if you really need to be somewhere else." I quickly let him know, depsite the fact that I was growing exhausted and heavy. These few minutes of interaction had taken a lot out of me. I turned to him but it must have been too quick because dizziness suddnely flooded my head.

"Woah." I held onto the counter as my legs began to give out on me. Nausea took over and I found myself faint.

"Woah!" Younghyun grabbed me before I completely hit the ground and picked me up into his arms. I turned away from him just in case as he carried me to the living room. "You'll be okay. I'll take care of you." He whispered as he placed me on the couch. I didn't fight it. I was honestly so sick at this point.

He dissapeared for a few minutes and I grabbed the controller, turning on the TV to Netflix. I put on the first show on my 'continue to watch' list just for the ambiance. I needed some noise or this lone time with Younghyun would kill me.

I heard Younghyun rustle about the kitchen and my room before he showed up with a blanket over his arm, the bag of food he brought, and my tea.

I sat up slightly, leaning against the arm of the sofa as I grabbed the mug. He placed the food beside my computer and took his coat off before starting to unpack things from the bag. All these he did in silence and I found myself staring at him. Everything was about a him was beautiful, specially focus in his face as he read the labels of the pill bottle. He mumbled the side effects to himself and narrowed his eyebrows after 'trouble sleeping'.

"Maybe I should buy a different brand." He said turning to me, but I shook my head. "No. It's alright, I can't sleep anyways." I told him.

He stood up abruptly from his seat and moved to my side, the back of his hand already against my forehead. "That's because you have a fever. Aish! You have so many heaters on." He walked up to the heater in the living room and unplugged it.

"Wait, Younghyun I'm trying to sweat out the cold." I whined as he went around the apartment unplugging the rest.

He returned to my side, kneeling down and grabbing the pills. "Let me worry about you, okay. Once the fever is gone, we can take care of the cold, but the fever is what made you nauseas." He looked so sure that I didn't argue back but grimaced and took the pills.

"You sound just like my mom." I puffed.

He smiled softly pulling the blanket up to my waist and tucking in the sides around my feet. "Your mom sounds like a smart woman. I should meet her one day."

I almost choked on the hot tea as I coughed into my shirt. Meeting the parents wasn't something friends did. The light coughing turning into my throat almost tearing itself apart and Younghyun freaking out from the raspy hoarse noise that came out of my mouth. "Maybe I should take you to the doctors!" He already had his coat on and. My keys in one hand but I placed the mug on the coffee table and shook my head.

"Younghyun it's okay... I-I'm okay." My voice came out hoarse.

"That doesn't sound okay. You can barely even talk." He really did seem worried.

"Please Younghyun." My voice couldn't go higher than a whisper. "I-I'll be okay. Just lay down with me." I whined softly, holding my hands up from him to come hug me or something.

For the first few seconds, his eyes widened and he drooped my keys on the ground. It took me a few seconds to realize why he was so surprised. I had just told him to lay down with me and although every cell in my body was burning in embarrassment I didn't back down unless he told me no. With a low sigh, his eyes softened and he smiled gently. "You're going to be the death of me." He whispered taking his coat off again and throwing it on the small loveseat.

He, then, grabbed a pillow and layed it against the sofa arm beside me as he grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. He layed down first grabbing the blanket and covering himself before opening his arms to show me where i would lay. "Come on, some body heat well be good for you."

His words were enough to send my heart in a frenzy and for some reason that caused my headache to grow. Ugh feeling sick and in love was honestly the worst. I slipped in, snuggling against his chest as he wrapped his hands around my waist. My shirt lifted up a bit and he pressed his hand down, coming in contact with my skin. It sent a shiver down my spine as I grabbed his shirt and I was engulfed in his sweet apricot scent and warmth. Already I could feel myself getting better and I didn't want to leave his side at all.

When he started rubbing my back up and down, I felt the sleepiness cave in me. "Younghyun, I'm tired." I whispered, snuggling against his chest a little more. He responded by tangling his legs with mine and pulling me closer to his body to the point where I can practically hear his heart beat beginning to pick up. "Sleep." He began to him his song I Will Wait and slowly I began to doze off. His soft voice and the heat radiating from his body were honestly the perfect lulluby.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E3; Chapter Three, Holly, Jolly - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘠/𝘯, 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘈 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳.

WARNINGS: Mentions of [lots of] blood, and Troy being homophobic

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

El sits on the floor of Mike's basement, back to the couch. Candy wrappers and crumbs were scattered around a finished puzzle of a beautiful green forest. The strange plastic ship, floating in the air in front of her. It suddenly drops to the ground as her attention is brought to the Supercomm on the couch. She picks up the device and clicks it on, bored with the static that comes from the other end, she soon abandons the device and stands up.

She walks up the steps, eager to explore the house more. When she reaches the top of the steps, she cautiously peeks around the corner. When she decides no one is home and the coast is clear, she continues to explore the house.

With the house to herself, she had more time to linger, and appreciate and explore. It was fascinating to her, and yet it made her sad. Could she have had a life like this? She didn't know what to think when she admired every object, every picture on the wall. There was one in particular that caught her eye.

It was a small photograph, but you could tell it was important. It was another picture of Mike and his friends. Only, they were younger. They were playing and splashing around in the water, a lake it looked like, surrounded by beautiful green trees. Each of them had an arm wrapped around each other forming a line, and their pants were rolled up to their knees.

The young boy on the very left had messy black hair, who El immediately recognized as Mike. He was smiling brightly at her from the picture. A young Lucas to his right, who wore a rather proud grin. Dustin was looking at the two, more specifically Lucas; he had been laughing when the photo was taken.

Will, she believed his name was, had one scrawny arm draped loosely around Dustin, however, he had his full attention on a very cheery looking Y/n who stood proudly showing off a very small frog to the camera. They had daisies on their head, tangled in their hair, and a gleaming smile showed off a missing tooth. They were holding the frog so delicately.

But it wasn't Y/n, or even Mike that caught her eye. It was the way Will was looking at Y/n. His eyes held a certain fondness and appreciation, his smile warm and genuine. El tilted her head ever so slightly, thinking. Something deep inside her was gnawing at her, a feeling that was foreign to her. Shaking her head, she moved on to the rest of the living room.

She went back to the funny chair Mike had shown her and took a seat. She reached over and pulled on the lever, sending her back and forth as it kicked her feet out. She looked around curiously as the chair rocked her back and forth.

El noticed the weird device on the table beside her and picked it up. It was a strange curved thing attached by a curly wire. It had many buttons, every one of them had a number on them. It let out a strange noise, barely audible from the top. She brought it up to her ear to listen to the endless monotone hum. Not knowing what else to do she mimicked the tone, just for fun before putting it back.

She stood up from the chair and sat herself down on her knees in front of the TV. Curious, she ran her fingers down the side until she felt the button and pressed it. A brief crackle of static rang out and as soon as it came on it was replaced with the voice of an older man, the screen lit up in front of her.

"...was occupying a large part of Lebanon. Today, Syria has become a home for-"

Click.

El pressed another button.

The moving picture on the screen changed, where many bright flashes of color dance across the screen. A fake man with yellow hair held a sword as he exclaimed.

"I have the power!"

Click.

"...gift that will last forever. From the Harmony Treasures' collection-"

Click.

A beautiful melody came from the TV set and El's eyes widened in surprise.

Click.

"On the beach and in the sun"

El froze. She recognized the rolling tin can that appeared on the TV. Her breathing began to quicken as she fought the memories back.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

The all too familiar humming and beeping of the machines echoed off of the cold, isolating walls. Eleven sat at the same table, with the same camera facing the same window with the same adults who watch her and study her. Nothing was new, and she feared nothing ever would be. All she wants is to get this over with. Wanting to get these damn wires off of her head.

Yet, she sat still, compliant, unmoving. Never taking her eyes off of Papa as she watched him hand the clipboard to one of the men and give her a nod of his head. She turned her head and attention to the small Coke drink. Her eyes bore into the empty can and she concentrated.

Her head shook ever so slightly as she focused, straining. It was difficult, but she was able to do it. The can caved into itself with a loud 'crack' and it wasn't until the monitors stopped did she realize how loud they had been. She looked back to Papa, looking for his approval.

He stood unmoving, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. She felt her nose run damp, a warm liquid oozed from her nose. She blinked, confused and slowly brought her hand up to her upper lip, realizing she was bleeding. She looked to Papa, expectantly. He only smiled a cold empty grin.

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"Coke is it! Coke is it!"

El quickly pushed the first button, shutting the TV off. Breathing heavily, she stood up and made her way to the basement.

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

My back was beginning to hurt from hunching over for so long, but nevertheless, I continued looking. Lucas needs ammo for his wrist rocket, so naturally, the four of us were currently scouring the schoolyard for rocks.

"How about this one?" Mike asks, walking up to Dustin.

Dustin examines the rock Mike handed to him.

"Too big for the sling." He shrugs, tossing the rock to the grass. "So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men, or do you think she acquired them, like... like Green Lantern?"

"She's not a superhero. She's a weirdo." Lucas says as he searches for that.

"You don't know that," I mumble, Lucas, however, doesn't hear me.

"Why does that matter? The X-Men are weirdos." Mike adds.

Lucas turns to Mike, agitated. "If you love her so much, why don't you marry her?"

I roll my eyes, and straighten up, stretching out my back.

"What are you talking about?" Mike sighs.

"Mike, seriously?"

"What?"

"You look at her all, like... 'Hi, El! El! El! El! I love you so much!'" Lucas teases, grabbing Mike in for a hug before getting down on one knee. "'Would you marry me?' I'm telling you, man, you're just as bad as Will!" He stood back up when he said the last—

'Wait...What?'

"What?" I asked, completely thrown off.

The boys freeze, Lucas especially. Lucas excluded, the boys all look at me with awkward smiles on their faces. Dustin chuckles and gives a still frozen Lucas a few pats on the arm.

"Good job, man. Real smooth."

"Guys, what is going on?" I asked exasperated, crossing my arms.

"Shit," Lucas whispers, closing his eyes.

"Lucas..."

Mike wears a triumphant grin on his face and looks expectantly at Lucas.

"Yeah, Lucas. Tell him."

Lucas sighs, and stiffly turns around, his change of attitude dramatic. He looks around once or twice before growing stern with me.

"You, and Will?" He suggests.

"What about us? What does that have to do with— Oh come on... You can't be serious. He does not like me."

"Literally everyone knows he is totally in love with you." He scoffs.

I scoff in return. "Love? Don't you think you're being a little dramatic? Not to mention, ridiculous?"

"Am I wrong?" He turns to the boys, who hesitantly shrug.

He turns back to me, a look screaming 'There you have it.'

"That doesn't prove anything! We're best friends! So what if we're close?"

He laughs. "Yeah, just as close as Nancy and Steve! And you're no better. You just haven't realized it yet."

"W-What? W-what ar- No!" My words are caught in my throat and I felt my cheeks begin to burn.

'No, I don't!'

It takes moments for me to recover. "Okay, let's say you're right. Let's say he does love me. How can you know for sure, huh? It's not like he told you!"

"Uhh, yeah! Might as well have. He didn't deny it!"

My heart stops, and I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach.

'Will? And me?'

"Look what we have here!"

'Oh, God. Not now.'

I roll my eyes and before I can stop myself I speak. "What do you want, Troll?"

My eyes widen at my sudden boldness but I remain confident. I stare down the two boys who have been bullying us for as long as we've attended this school.

"You better watch your mouth, freak-"

"Back off!" Dustin yells, cutting him off.

Troy looks over to Dustin, looking prepared to throw more insults at my brother but something changes his mind and he cools off. A smug smile tugs at his lips.

"Or what?" Troy spits.

Dustin falls silent, and Troy continues.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. What are you losers doing back here anyway?"

"Probably looking for their missing friend." Troy's goon laughs.

Anger begins to take over and my blood starts to boil.

"That's not funny. It's serious. He's in danger." Dustin immediately cuts in.

"I hate to break it to you, Toothless, but he's not in danger. He's dead. That's what my dad says."

'Where's that damn rock?'

"He said he was probably killed by some other queer."

I feel a lurch in my chest, and I can practically feel my vision going red.

"Come on. Just ignore them." Mike soothes, not only to me but to Dustin and Lucas as well.

He's right. I need to get out of here. I storm off, ready to shove him in the shoulder as I pass but suddenly I feel something catch my foot and I fall to the ground. A sudden wave of searing pain explodes on my chin when I hit the ground.

Dazed and confused, I push myself up enough to see a large, rather bloody rock just inches from my face.

I groan, rolling over on my back, I hear laughing and frantic footsteps.

"Y/n!" Dustin and Mike run over to me, Lucas storms up to Troy.

Dustin and Mike each grab an arm and help me sit up. I hesitantly bring a hand up to my chin and I hiss in pain. I look at my fingers and they are absolutely covered in blood.

'Holy crap.'

I groan and look to Lucas worried. He stands firm and tall, right up in Troy's face.

"Leave us. The fuck. Alone." He says through clenched teeth.

My eyes triple in size, surprised by Lucas's actions.

Troy and his friend laugh and walk away. Repeating Lucas in a mocking voice.

"You okay Y/n?" He reaches out his hand.

I gladly take it. However, I get a little lightheaded as I stand. "Shit, that's a lot of blood."

I look down and I see splots of blood already sprinkling my shirt.

'Great. This will be easy to explain to mom.'

"You still have that first aid kit?"

I close my eyes, sighing.

"Crap. No. I left it at Mike's."

"We better get you to the nurse's office then."

"No, I-I'm fine." I sigh, wincing at the pain.

"Are you sure? You're bleeding, like a lot." Mike says.

"Yeah, I'm good. As long as I stop the bleeding, I'll be fine... My body has always been able to heal quicker than most, anyways."

"They've got a point. I've seen it."

I offer a small smile. "Well, I at least better go get a tissue or something. I'll be right back." I say.

The boys nod, and I head off to the bathroom. My mind wanders back to what Lucas was telling me earlier, and the weird feeling in my stomach returns...