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shootingstarwritings · 3 years ago

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Wrestling With Some Feelings

Wrestling with some Feelings

“Wh-What are you doing…?" Ahmed moaned as a trail of slime slid into his singlet. Just the very touch caused his body to react with an eruption of pleasurable waves. He collapsed onto the locker room floor, slowly humping the floor to get any sort of friction on his hardening dick. "Haa… aahhhh...haaa…! This isn't… right." Ahmed bit down on his lip before letting down another desperate moan. So caught up in this invasive bliss that he didn't even care when the slimy creature squeezed itself into his leaking cock. Instead, he welcomed it. Thoughts of championships and the thrill of victory soon vanished beneath a blanket of ecstasy. "Ah! Ahhh! H-Holy fuck, I'm—!"

Ahmed wasn't able to finish as his body yielded to the enigmatic invader. His vision swam and he felt dizzy until he collapsed on a puddle of his precum. Ahmed's body convulsed on the ground, unable to even call for help, until he suddenly became rigid, back arched as if mid-orgasm. Then, he relaxed. Slowly, he rose from the ground and took a peek inside his wrestling singlet. "Damn kid, you got a sweet-ass body," he said, stretching his body and letting out a satisfying grunt as something popped. His more reserved personality and mannerisms were completely gone, as though it was someone else entirely. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna stay here forever. Just long enough to throw that match with Clay tonight. Can’t let my son lose that scholarship. You understand, right?” Adjusting his singlet again, the man in possession of Ahmed, Jerry, let out a sensual groan. “Ohhh, and maybe take advantage of this little body for a while. Not every day an old fart like me can be a young and sexy college stud for a few hours."

There was still time until the match, and considering how it would just be throwing the match to Clay, it wouldn’t take much effort. For now, Jerry could relax and enjoy what Ahmed's body had to offer. Grinning, he squeezed Ahmed's meat through the fabric and threw his head back in a low moan. "You're so lucky, being so sensitive. C'mon, let's get real acquainted."

Clay’s father had to struggle to keep his erection down as Clay seriously manhandled him the whole match. Each of Ahmed’s nerves seemed to be turbo-charged and Clay’s rough hands only seemed to aggravate that. With every slam and struggle—every time flesh met flesh with a flash of friction, Clay’s father found himself growing flushed. Didn’t even have to try that hard to throw, his over-horned body did the job for him.

Was it the spell or perhaps something more? Either way, soon Jerry found himself pinned to the mat with his son sneering down at him. The ref called the final point, and that was it. Jerry walked back to the locker rooms, ignoring the calls from his coach and friends. He couldn’t risk anyone catching on to his lack of disappointment.

To make sure the locker room would be empty, Jerry took an extremely long shower—checking his goods one last time before he would have to leave and return home to congratulate his son. Towel around his waist, he made his way over to the locker only to meet a meaty arm blocking his way.

"Gotta say, kinda disappointed in your performance today, Ahmed," Clay said with a glare.

“Oh, Clay! Uh, wh-what can I say? Performance anxiety,” Jerry said, shrugging.

Clay tilted his head in confusion. “The hell’s happened to you? All jumpy and squirrely.” He took a step forward, cornering his father against the lockers. “You sick or something? Honestly looking real weird.”

Swallowing, Clay’s father said, “Um, I suppose you just have the magic touch,” he said, mind racing to come up with a lie that would be somewhat believable. “Body got all hot and cold with you manhandling me like that.” Jerry prayed that his face and ears weren’t turning as red as he thought they were.

Clay nodded to himself while squinting as if deciphering a difficult piece of text. "That so…?” Hoping that was enough, Jerry began to walk away. However, Clay slammed both of his arms against the lockers, pinning his father completely. “All you had to do was ask,” Clay whispered, his incredulous look turning into one of passion. Without a word, he leaned and kissed Jerry on his borrowed lips. Too shocked to even fight, Jerry leaned back and shut his eyes. What did this rush of passion mean? It was as if a dam had suddenly burst open.

Caught in this stream of passion, Jerry met Clay's kiss with equal aggression. It was as if he was possessed by whatever sentiments Ahmed had locked away deep inside of his subconscious. Either way, Jerry couldn’t even bother trying to resist the youthful hormones that danced in every inch of his hunky, borrowed body.

“Damn, you taste real fine,” said Clay, leaning away to stare at the giddy, bubbly mess that was Jerry. “Your lips feel so nice. Bet they’d be even better wrapped around my dick,” he said, slapping his thigh as he said so. Jerry glanced down and saw his son’s fully erect cock straining against the confines of the singlet. Wordlessly, he nodded and got down on his knees. The taste was so salty, but he didn’t mind it at all. Hearing his son’s pleasured moans and the cock threatening to unhinge Ahmed’s jaw was enough to get Jerry’s own dick hard.

“Make me see white,” Jerry breathed as he drew back with a pop. He spread his legs, trying to show as much of his ass he could. “Fuck me hard, Clay. I don’t think I can live without that cock inside of me once.”

“Say no more.” With a grunt of effort, Clay lifted Jerry up and placed him down onto one of the benches. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice and gentleman-y like.” Leaning up to steal another sensual kiss, Clay teased the rim of Ahmed’s hole with his cockhead. Jerry moaned and bit down on his lips. He took a few breaths, trying to relax, before just leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "Hold on, relax," whispered Clay, using a finger to loosen him up. "Got some lube in my locker. Give me a sec."

“You have what?” Jerry exclaimed as Clay briefly walked off. “H-How often do you do this here.”

Once Clay returned, he just grinned and said, “Enough.”

Though Jerry wanted to continue asking his son, the finger that penetrated him had another idea. Jerry, nearly cross-eyed, immediately tightened as a reflex. He leaned back, moaning like a slut as Clay slipped in another finger. Then another. “F-Fuck, I-I’m fucking cumming!” Jerry shouted as his dick erupted with shot after shot of pent-up aggression.

“Damn, came from just fingering?” Clay grinned. “Hope you still got fuel in the tank, Ahmed. I still haven’t got a chance to shoot my shot.”

Breathing heavily, Jerry nodded as he spread his legs even further. Despite his climax abating, the sensual haze in his mind didn’t leave. Instead, he felt as though he could cum again and again that night. “I’m still not satisfied. Split me in half, Clay!” He moaned. Although the more logical part of Jerry's mind screamed and begged, he didn't give a shit. He just wanted this hunky hole filled and his son's cock was the one thing that could fix that.

Clay wasted no time. He spread Jerry as much as he cut and gave a slow, experimental thrust. When Jerry didn't scream, he slowly picked up the pace. "Mm, yeah. Nrgh, fuck yeah," he grunted with every thrust. There was no reason to go so quick that it would take away from the passion. As promised, he was gentle with strong, rhythmic thrusts. Jerry met each one with the same rhythm. Every nerve seemed to be on fire as Clay's cock filled him—as though Jerry was finally complete. With this body and this cock inside of him, he was reaching Nirvana.

After what seemed like a lifetime of pleasure, Jerry noticed Clay’s core tightening. His face was flushed and his body was covered in a sheen of sweat. “I’m—nggh—I’m gonna blow my load. Want me to cum inside?” Jerry quickly nodded. Clay grinned. “Good answer.” With renewed vigor, Clay continued plowing into Jerry as he babbled nonsense. “C’mon, Ahmed. Scream for me.” He said, slapping Ahmed’s quivering thighs.

“Oh my god,” said Jerry, covering his face to hide the tears. He was elated and embarrassed all at once. His own offspring was smashing him and all he could do was moan and allow it to happen. It had been years since he had sex this good, and he knew that Ahmed felt the same. No, for Ahmed it was even more intense. Somehow, Jerry understood that Ahmed had never had sex before. Now, at that moment, Jerry was losing his virginity for Ahmed. With that in mind, Jerry could feel his climax swiftly approaching.

“I'm gonna nut! I'm gonna—MMM!" Jerry stopped as Clay suddenly embraced him with a long, intense kiss. Unable to handle the heat and the passion any longer, Jerry climaxed. Both of their bodies became drenched in semen, but neither of them cared. All they wished was to taste as much of themselves in that kiss.

Sorry, Ahmed, thought Jerry, lemme just stay in this body for a little while longer. I’ll leave tomorrow in the morning. Promise.

#male possession #jock possession #possession #male body possession #slime possession

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moon3thereal · 3 years ago

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Hiii one request! Nat meets R in a bar or something while she is trying to be far away from the problems of being an avenger,the read head tries to have a date with her and R accepts, then in the midel of the date R takes the initiative and start to be a little/much sassy 😏 and convinces Nat to leave the place to be in somewhere more private. But when they are alone R start to fight with Nat trying to knock her out but Nat pin her down and asks why she is doing that, R admitt that she is a widow and was sent to cach her and bring her back to the red room. The end can be as you wish.

Thanks!!

Title: Eyes on the prize

genre: fluff, angst-ish

warnings: guns, violence, alcohol, knives, mention of memory removal

the bottom: (dont ask why, but leah forced me to credit her at the bottom and technically i did!) credits to @midgardianweasley for practically co-writing and building the foundation for this fic, i could NOT have done this without her, thank you so much, and please go check out her fics everyone!

a/n: one of the longest fics i've written, i hope you guys enjoy! ends with fluff dw

2.7 K words

Natasha brushed a hand over her face in fatigue, she’d been to more than 3 countries within the time span of a week for missions and had done so much paperwork she thought she might pull out her hair if she laid eyes on another mission report. The cadets that S.H.I.E.L.D recruited, in her eyes, were no more than children who didn’t even know how to hold a gun properly, not to mention shoot.

What the Russian needed right now was tequila, a shit load of tequila. Fortunately, there was a bar that the redhead frequented whenever she needs to put some distance between her and the problems of the avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D

Picking up her leather jacket that was tossed carelessly on her couch and the keys to her Chevrolet, Natasha set off to a bar about 3 blocks down the Avengers compound, in fifteen minutes, she was met with a glowing neon sign, she was regular at the dim bar and was almost always seen there on a Friday night with her red hair in a braid and several locks framing her face in effortless elegance

Usually, people didn’t approach her and if they did, she never paid much attention to them. However, today when she sat down, there was a y/h/c haired woman already locating the seat next to her with a beer in her hand. You were idly swirling the beer in its bottle and staring off into space when the redhead settled down in her usual seat.

She ordered 10 tequila shots and you raised a brow at her “you sure you can handle that?” she turned to you with a smirk “I can handle twice as much as that but I have work tomorrow” you hummed in acknowledgement “I haven’t seen you around here before, you’re new?” Natasha asked downing a shot without so much as a grimace “I’m looking for a job, bartender” you said propping your foot up on the counter “well you sure don’t look like one” she remarks and you frowned “is there a specific look for a bartender?” and she downed a second shot and gestured to a woman taking orders from drunk customers “sure there is, there, like her”

You scoffed “hm maybe I’d be an exception to the standard” the corner of the redhead’s lips quirked up “good, it’d be nice to see some change around here” you stretched your arms out in front of you “it would be, if they hired me, but they didn’t, which is why I’m sitting around moping about the fact they rejected such a pretty face” Natasha downed another shot nodding in agreement. You looked at her, genuinely impressed at her alcohol tolerance. “Your mom never taught you that it’s rude to stare?” your face fell for a second at the mention of your mother, she was dead, like all the mothers of the widows who attempted to pry their daughters out of the red room’s grip. But you restored your poker face before she could catch your look of discomposure.

“If staring at you was considered rude, then the whole world would be douchebags” you quipped. Natasha only laughed and shook her head at your obvious flirting “you come here often then?” you asked after watching her down another shot “obviously not enough if I can’t remember a pretty face like yours.” The redhead said lightly. she was studying you though, she noticed how you were sitting, back straight, shoulders back, she wasn’t unfamiliar to that posture at all, in the red room, all widows were trained to be on the defense, on alert at all times, always anticipating anything and everything, nothing could go amiss that way. And she’d also noticed the way you had barely taken a sip of your drink, resorting to swishing the liquid idly in its bottle.

Against everything logical and her own unmistakable and uncannily accurate instinct, Natasha stopped her brain from analyzing and evaluating these signs and allowed them to be overlooked as a side effect of her falling into a trance simply by observing you, how your eyebrows arched perfectly, the curve of your lips, the perfect ridge of your nose and the captivating color of your eyes and how all of your facial parts are completely flawless to her, she could’ve sworn she’d seen you somewhere before. Natasha had met many interesting people in her line of work but she’d never yet met one as intriguing as you were, the quintessential mysterious girl in the bar.

If you had told her two days ago, that she would ask a stranger in a bar over to her apartment to drink with her, she’d have called you crazy. However, it didn’t seem so crazy to her now, it was unlike Natasha, but she asked you to come over to have a drink, an unofficial, casual date. You raised an eyebrow “now, now, was that an attempt to get me drunk?” you clicked your tongue in faux disapproval “simply seizing the opportunity to get to know you better” she said with a shrug. You hid a smile behind your beer bottle, taking the first sip of the night. You had tried to convince yourself that it was simply your success at scoring a date with the Russian therefore giving you a chance to lure her somewhere private to eliminate her, but something in you told you it was more than that, the way she smiled, how her lips curved and her perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifted, it was all so familiar yet you simply couldn’t retrieve the memory.

But one thought was clear, raging even, at the back of your mind. You didn’t want to hurt her, whoever she was, you didn’t want to lay a hand on her, couldn’t bear to see her in pain, you’d defy Dreykov, defy the red room, defy Russia and all of their stupid organizations if it meant you could figure out this mystery of a woman, discovering her secrets one by one, layer by layer. Not to report back to the red room but just to see Natasha as she was. Unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way, it never worked that way, if you’d done it, Dreykov would’ve been notified and you’d be dead before the sun rises the next day. Your eyebrows knitted together momentarily at the thought that the woman before you would be dead at your hands before dawn before you arranged your features to hide the moment of doubt.

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova. Natasha Romanoff. She’s a problem, a threat, a danger to the future of our widows, I need her terminated, and there’s no one better than you, y/n, for the job. Don’t let me down” Dreykov’s voice flashed in your mind, his orders were clear, kill her or there will be consequences.

Natasha’s voice brought you back to the conversation “what do you do? Before you decided to look for a job at this dingy bar I mean” she asked, the shot glasses were all empty now where there had been at least 5 more before, you must’ve been too entranced by your thoughts, or how strands of her hair had escaped her braid and curly wisps of ginger hair were framing her face perfectly. You both had decided to get out of the bar, more patrons had walked in making it stuffy and crampy, you were walking out the door with Natasha, presumably to her apartment “a primary teacher, English.” You said without hesitation, you always spent hours reciting the information of your cover, sometimes you felt as if you were really the person you were pretending to be with how fluently you could deliver the lines you’d practiced in front of a mirror until they were flawless.

She laughed; a clear, melodious laugh that made your cheeks heat up “you? An English teacher? Wow.” She said “what are you gonna say I don’t look like one?” you glared at her with indignation on your face “no, you don’t, you don’t at all” she said, her expression turning into a serious one, for a second your heart dropped, thinking your cover had been blown and you’d have to resort to shooting her in the middle of the street, which wasn’t exactly ideal “you look like a zookeeper” she said biting her lip to hold back her laugh at the look on your face. you raised your eyebrows in amusement “that wasn’t funny” you said “oh but it was” the redhead laughed showing her impossibly white teeth and her cheeks were pink from walking in the cold night air, you couldn’t help but stare at her lips, her perfectly kissable- snap out of it y/l/n, you thought to yourself, that isn’t what you’re here to do.

“But seriously, I’m actually happy about how tonight is going, better than drinking alone” she voiced out, you looked to her with a smirk evident on your face, you’d just reached her apartment and she was unlocking the door letting you in behind her. “Going soft for me Romanoff?” she scoffed before her face fell into an expression of momentary confusion, in a split second you both had your guns pointed at each other “who are you? How do you know my name?” the carefree Natasha was gone now, and in her place stood the infamous black widow.

Deciding that hiding your identity from her was pointless now, you attempted to attack, kicking the gun from her hand and vaulting to get your legs around her neck to choke her. Unfortunately for you, that was textbook red room and a trick Natasha had used countless times on enemies of various sizes. Blocking you, the Russian pinned you, one hand on the small of your back and the other at the back of your neck, holding you down “I knew I should’ve spent the night alone.” Refusing to be defeated so easily, you swept her feet out from under her, but once you got up, she’d punched you in your side causing you to double over in pain. She moved to her gun but you weren’t the star student of the red room for no reason, in the blink of an eye, you had a knife to her throat.

The both of you had stood there for a few seconds, breathing heavily before you felt a familiar feeling of cool metal, the barrel of a gun, through your thin shirt. “You didn’t think I just had one, did you?” she said pressing it into your side in warning. Gritting your teeth in frustration, you released her with a shove and dropped your knife with your hands raised.

“If it was anyone else, in any other situation, I would’ve shot you and be done with it, but you’re intriguing, there’s a story behind this. I trust you won’t pull anything?” she asked watching you stare down the barrel of her Glock. You nodded once, albeit grudgingly. To your utter surprise, she placed the gun down and gestured to a chair on the opposite side of the table and sat down herself. You’d utterly demolished the rest of her kitchen with your fight. Sitting in the chair rigidly, Natasha raised an eyebrow at your silence, you noted how if you made a run for it, she had the ability to shoot you before you even stood up with the proximity of her hand and her gun. Her gun, you had the exact half to the one on the floor across the room, your gun. You furrowed your eyebrows, you had one half of the twin guns, the other half was hers. But that didn’t make sense, unless there was a reason why she’d seemed familiar to you?

Natasha seemed to think the same, her eyes flickering from the gun just inches away from her fingertips to the one across the room, hers had your initials engraved at the bottom, and yours hers. But you’ve never understood why there was two letters engraved on to your favored gun “N.R. Natasha Romanoff” you said, more to yourself than to her. She spoke two letters, your name.

“What is this, who are you?” you said struggling to even out your breathing. “y/n y/l/n” she said. “no it cant be” she said disbelief streaked over her face. “The red room is gone, I killed Dreykov” she said shaking her head and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes “I hate to break it to you, but Dreykov is very much alive” you said “I’m a widow, I was sent here to kill you, you’re a threat to them” you said staring her directly in the eyes. “Whatever you did, unsuccessful” you said. “do you even remember me?” she said a crease in her forehead and looked up at you “you seem familiar. But no, not really” all hostility had gone out from both your voices, you were both just doing your jobs

She started humming a song, the music sounded eerily familiar, the same feeling you’d felt previously looking at her painted lips flooded you. Familiar, but the memory was just out of reach. “with the lights out, it’s less dangerous, here we are now” she started singing softly “entertainers” you breathed out disbelievingly. It suddenly came rushing back to you

When you’d snuck a radio from your trainers’ office

When you’d sneak out of the cuffs on the beds at night to share hidden kisses with each other

How you’d trained side by side

How a redheaded girl had been by your side when you threw up on your first kill

Natalia. Natasha. You had loved her in secret, between the shadow and the soul. You had loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

Shock was written clearly over your features. You hadn’t seen her since she’d gotten out, ten years ago. Now that you remembered, you couldn’t believe you didn’t recognize her. The same fiery red hair, same eyebrows, same emerald green eyes, same smile. Same Natalia.

Guilt rushed in like an overwhelming wave, Natasha couldn’t believe that you were still alive, she’d attempted to search for you, almost went crazy when you went completely off grid after the Budapest mission. She’d meant to defect, and then go back for you. She had it all planned out, but you seemed to vanish off the face of the earth “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry, I tried, I really did. You were just gone, I thought you were dead” You stared back at her in shock “its okay, we were separated, I was sent to Italy, remember? It wasn’t your fault.” You said still in a daze

After moments of confusion over how you didn’t remember someone that important to you, an expression of realization found its way onto your face. Memory removal, of course. The red room had the technology, attachment to anyone, anyone at all was nothing but a weakness. Love is for children, that was what the red room had burned into the widows’ minds.

Hatred shone in your eyes when you realized that Dreykov had practically had his scientists cut the part of you that had loved Natasha out of your brain. “you’re an avenger. Means Dreykov won’t hurt you” you contemplated “or your comrades” you supported your chin on your heel of your palm. Natasha nodded slowly in confusion. “They can’t afford to” she said “so if I was your comrade, they would lose any and all ability to do me harm” she nodded again “I suppose so, yes” when you both locked eyes again, you both knew what the other was thinking. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Natasha asked with a smirk “to burn the red room to the ground? Yes.” You said with a matching smirk

If love was for children, you were both toddlers. After everything the red room and the world had done to keep you apart, you had somehow found your way back to each other again. And you weren’t planning on letting her out of your sight any time soon.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha angst #black widow angst

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

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From Friends To This

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom gives you an intimate compliment that makes you question just how platonic your friendship is

Masterlist

Unable to sleep and growing bored with the episode of Grey’s Anatomy he was watching, Tom reached up and knocked the secret rhythm to on his wall. He tilted his chin up towards the wall, waiting for your response. Finally, you finished the knock, letting Tom know you were still awake. Ever since you moved in, you and Tom communicated at through knocking on the wall since your rooms were next to each other. It was reserved for late night messages, usually when one of you wanted a snack but didn’t want to go to the kitchen alone. Tonight, it was a matter of curiously.

“did I wake you?” Tom pulled out his phone to text you, not wanting to keep you up if you had been asleep.

“you know I’m always awake. what’s on your mind?” You texted back in a few short seconds, making Tom smile.

“I’m a few seasons into Grey’s Anatomy and I need to know who I can’t get attached to in case they die.”

“when I tell you you cannot get attached to ANYONE I mean it.” You answered. Toms thumbed danced over the keyboard, unsure of what to say next. He didn’t exactly have anything to talk about, he just wanted to talk to you. His eyes drifted back to his screen and he paid a little more attention, watching as Owen stood behind Christina and smiled for a minute before saying, “You should wear your hair up more. It shows off the back of your neck. I like the back of your neck.”

“Gross.” Tom mumbled as he shifted his eyes back to his phone. That was how he chose to flirt with the girl he liked? Tom continued texting you when what was intended to be background noise caught his eye. He thought Christina would find that comment as weird as he did, but she didn’t. She did the opposite.

She liked it.

Tom stared at his screen with furrowed eyebrows as Christina timidly brushed the back of her neck with her fingertips with a smile, making Tom wonder if that line actually worked on girls. His eyes shifted back to his phone, thumbs dancing over the keyboard as he thought of what to type. Finally, he decided to let Owen do the talking for him.

“you should wear your hair up more” He wrote, heart pounding in his ears as he waited for the bubble to come up.

“why 😳” Your text appeared on his screen and he blew out a nervous breath. No going back now if he was already halfway there.

“it shows off the back of your neck”

“yes and?” You wrote.

Tom twiddled his thumbs anxiously as he typed out the next part.

“I like the back of your neck.”

A bubble appeared almost immediately, then disappeared. Tom almost threw his phone across the room from anxiety as he waited for your response. The clock went up a minute before your answer came.

“aw, really?” came first.

Then, “what about the skin between my fingers?”

Followed by, “or my weenis?”

And then, “do you like the back of my knees too?”

Tom laughed to himself, his chest rising and falling repeatedly at your words.

“fine. I’ll just never compliment you again 😔” Tom texted you back. His plan didn’t end up with you admitted your long held love for him, but it didn’t completely backfire either. He was at a happy medium, and he was okay with that.

“ok, dork.” You sent. “what are you, a vampire? trying to get me to show off my neck I see 👀”

“you caught me. that’s why I’m so pale and moody. I’m tryna bite that neck”. Tom wrote you back. At least you weren’t making him feel bad for what he said, even if it fell a little flat.

“smh. you ain’t slick holland” You texted, making Tom chuckle again. You hadn’t reacted the way Christina had, but you also hadn’t reacted the way Tom had.

In Toms mind, that was a good thing.

Little did he know, that text would forever change the nature of your relation.

Monday

The conversation completely departed from Tom’s mind by the next morning as he put his dishes away in the sink and loaded them in the dishwasher. He rinsed his plate right as you walked by, your perfume wafting his way as you passed.

“Good morning.” You said over your shoulder as you opened the cabinet next to the sink. You began to move the various mugs out of your way until you found the one you were looking for, shaking your head a little back and forth to let your hair move. Tom snuck a glance at you and cocked a smile when he saw what you had done.

You had worn your hair in a ponytail.

“Great morning, actually.” Tom remarked, tilting his head to look at you as he shut the faucet off. “Nice hair.”

You gave him a poised look before ostentatiously shaking your head, letting your ponytail swish.

“Thanks.” You shrugged casually as you poured some hot water in your mug, a coy smile perched on your face.

“You’re welcome.” Tom told you as he leaned on the counter and picked up his own blue mug.

“No, Tom.” You said, looking in the mirror on the wall and adjusting your ponytail before looking at Tom and shooting him a wink. “You’re welcome.”

And then you walked away, your ponytail hitting him when you did.

Tom stared at you as you walked away with a dropped jaw, folding his arms as he thought about what he just witnessed.

“Ponytail.” He mumbled to himself. “She wore a ponytail.”

Later that day, Tom sat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers against his cheek as he edited his and Harry’s script when he felt your hair hitting his face. He looked up from his computer as you sat down beside him, a coy smile on your face.

“Oh, Sorry. Did I hit you with my ponytail?” You asked before hitting him with it again. “Sorry.”

And again.

“Sorry. So sorry.” You stifled a laugh as you opened your own laptop and began to type.

“So this is what I get for trying to be nice.” Tom said unenthusiastically. He couldn’t help his eyes from drifting to your ponytail as you typed, smiling a little at the way it bounced.

“No.” You told him. “This is what you get for telling me you like the back of my neck.”

“Is it that weird of a thing to say?” He asked, a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance ringing in his voice. You looked at him Tm out of the corner of your yes, smirking a little at he got riled up.

“Who said it was weird?” You shrugged as you flicked your hair in his face again. “Sorry.”

“I’m trying to work and you’re being incredibly distracting.” Tom grumbled as he tried to focus on his work. However, it was proving to be incredibly difficult since you decided to sit oh so close to him.

“Am I?” You played dumb and twirled your hair around your finger. “What’s distracting you?”

Tom stared at you for a moment, caught up in the way your hair twirled around your finger. He felt an ache in his chest as he fought the urge to replace your hands with his and run your fingers through your hair. He locked eyes with you and shook his head, laughing a little to himself as you teased him.

“You know.” He insisted, eyes going back to your hair.

“Could it be…”, you sassily flipped your ponytail and held you hand over your heart, “the back of my neck?”

You let out an ostentatious gasp as if you just revealed the killer in a murder mystery before letting out a laugh.

“Can you just forget I said that?” Tom whined as you snickered at your own joke. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You told me you liked the back of my neck, Tommy.” You reminded him. “How can that not mean anything?”

“It just doesn’t. It’s just something I said. No harm done.” Tom insisted, hoping you’d let him dismiss it.

“If there’s no harm done in what you said, then there’s no harm in my ponytail.” You shrugged, letting your ponytail sway as you moved. Tom looked at you for a long time and you stared right back, raising your eyebrows to challenge him.

“It was just a compliment.” Tom told you.

“And it’s just a ponytail.” You shot back. Tom squinted his eyes at you but you didn’t budge. Neither of you were gonna break, which meant Tom was getting zero work done, not that he minded.

“Tell me why you wore one.” He said, shitting his laptop to give you his full attention.

“Tell me why you like the back of my neck.” You answered, turned in your chair to face him. You puffed your chest out a little, trying to look tough as you set your focus on him.

“It was just a compliment.” He repeated, narrowing his eyes at you. You cracked a smile before leaning closer, close enough that your breath fanned his face.

“And it’s just a ponytail.” You said breathily. “Bye now.”

You waved flirtatiously at Tom as you sprung out of your seat, letting your ponytail flick him one last time before you left the room. He turned in his seat to watch you as he left, heart still skipping beats from how close you’d been.

“That damn ponytail.” Tom grumbled.

Tuesday

Tom thought the great back of the neck debate would end after one day, but when he watched you waltz into the kitchen the next morning with your hair pulled into a bun, he knew he was dead wrong. You weren’t the one to drop things, and he wasn’t the one to make the first move. As you took your place next to him at the kitchen counter, he knew this debate wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

“I like your hair today.” Tom said slowly as he stirred sugar into his tea. He handed you the sugar, knowing you liked your tea just as sweet as him, and you wordlessly accepted it.

“Thanks. It’s just so hot out, I wanted my hair off my face.” You said causally before looking at him out of the corner of your eye. “And neck.”

“It’s raining.” Tom smirked as he took a sip from his blue mug.

“Is it?” You asked, turning all the way around to look out the window and giving Tom a long look at the back of your neck. You turned back around, rubbing your hand on your shoulder to draw even more attention to that God forsaken part of your body. Tom knew exactly what you were doing, and evidently, so did you.

You looked back at him and shrugged before stirring sugar into your tea. “I guess it is.”

You took a step closer to Tom, taking a long sip of your tea as you held eye contact with Tom.

“I really like the bun, love.” Tom spoke softly in his morning voice. “Looks great.”

“You like it?” You raised your eyebrows seductively. “Tell me Tom, why do you like it?”

“I think we’ve been over this, darling.” He dished it right back, not letting you get the upper hand.

“I’m afraid I don’t remember.” You tilted your head. “Do you think you can back track for a second and remind me?”

Your chests were practically touching now, morning tea long forgotten.

“I like it when you wear your hair up.” Tom said without ever breaking eye contact. You stared back at him firmly until just for a moment, you quivered. You looked away quickly and insecurely touched your hair, letting your fingers slid to rest on the back of your neck.

“I have to go.” You picked up your mug and gave him a tight smile. “See you later.”

Tom furrowed his eyebrows once you left, feeling even more confused than the day before. If he didn’t know any better, you had gotten flustered from your little encounter. In the years Tom had known you and the months you’ve lived together, he was usually the one left with flushed cheeks and a racing heart after a shared moment went from platonic to flirtatious too quickly. He’d never seen something he did have such an effect on you. The memory of your flushed cheeks and wide eyes gave Tom the confidence to navigate the new territory you had entered. Something about his text from that night sparked something between the two of you, a battle that Tom was determined to win.

Wednesday

You had gone out to breakfast with old friends, so Tom hadn’t seen you all morning. It wasn’t until 2 pm that he found you at the kitchen table, leaning on your hand as your eyes lazily scanned your computer. He smirked and laughed to himself upon seeing that you had done it once again.

“Pigtails.” Tom said, alerting you to his presence. You didn’t look up from your computer but a cheeky smile tugged at your lips.

“Sorry, what was that?” You pretended not to hear him as you twirled a strand of hair from your pigtail around your fingers.

“I haven’t seen you in pigtails since Harrison tugged on them so hard you cried in Year 3.” Tom noted as he leaned on the table across from you.

“Well, this is my first step in getting over that tragic day.” You said as you looked at him through your eyelashes, letting it linger before looking back at your computer. Tom gripped the table in frustration, shaking the table a little but you still didn’t look up. Something about the combination of your hairstyle and you refusing to look at Tom was driving him up a wall. He walked around the table, stopping when he was stood behind your chair. He rested his hands on your shoulders, making your body freeze as whatever was on your computer screen completely left your mind.

“I see.” Tom said lowly as his rough hands began to knead your shoulders, paying extra attention to your neck. He cracked a smile when he heard you suck in a breath, swimming in glory at the effect he had on you. Always wanted to push his luck, Tom let his thumb slowly drag down the back of your, neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“Beautiful.” He murmured, and a chill went down your spine.

“Hey Y/n. Ding dong!” Harrison came out of seemingly nowhere and grabbed onto your pigtail, yanking it twice like it was a bell. Tom jumped back and put his hands in his back pockets, feeling his heart about to beat out of his chest. You swatted Harrison’s hands away and stood up, shooting a glance at Tom before turning back to Harrison.

“Very funny. You know who rings bells like that? The hunchback of notre dame.” You shoved Harrison playfully before sneaking another glance at Tom. The tension that had built between you could be cut with a knife, and today that knife was named Harrison.

“Stop flirting with me, Y/n.” Harrison joked as he gave your hair one last tug. You made a face at him before he let the room, his laugh echoing. Your eyes slowly made their way back to Tom, a now awkward silence filling the room.

“I’m gonna…” You pointed to your hair and began to take out your pigtails, needing an excuse not to look at Tom.

“Yeah, good idea.” Tom walked to you and immediately got to work to take down the other pigtail. He was gentle, careful not to tug at your baby hairs as he took the hair tie out. You winced a little as a hair got caught but didn’t make a sound.

“Sorry.” Tom said quietly as held your hair tie out to you. You looked at him as your hand closed around it, blinking a few times as you collected yourself.

“It’s okay.” Your tone was even softer as the tension from before reclaimed its place between you.

“Why do you keep wearing your hair up?” He asked, fingering a strand of your hair as he kept his eyes down.

“Why did you tell me you like the back of my neck?” You asked back.

“I don’t know.” Tom answered, leaning in a little closer.

“Then I don’t know either.” You looked him right in the eyes before turning sharply and leaving, your hair hitting him as you went.

Thursday

“Beautiful day, isn’t it? Gosh, it’s a wonderful day. Why are you all sitting inside? We should go out and enjoy the fresh morning air. Come on guys, let’s get this joint jumping.” You entered the room where the rest of the boys were with a suspiciously chipper attitude. The boys exchanged looks as you stood in the center with a huge smile.

“Did you put crack in your tea instead of sugar this morning?” Harry asked you.

“Again?” Tuwaine added.

It was then that Tom glanced up from his phone only to see you staring right at him with yet another updo.

“Good morning Tom.” You nodded at him.

“Good morning to you too, Princess Leia.” Tom smiled at your hair today, two buns below each ear.

“Just trying something new.” You shrugged and sat down next to Harrison. Tom furrowed his eyebrows, well aware of the empty spot on the sofa next to him where you usually sat. He knew this was all apart of the little dance the two of you had been doing, but it bothered him nonetheless. His eyes burned holes in your like a lit cigarette on paper from across the room as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Hey, Haz.” You said, purposefully loud enough for Tom to hear. He tried to go back to what he was looking at on his phone, but found it impossible to concentrate when you were practically on top of Harrison.

“Hey.” He greeted, having no clue what he was now apart of. “I like the buns. You look like you’re gonna churn some butter.”

You looked at Tom smugly when his best friend complimented you before returning your attention to Harrison. You began to twirl the ends of Harrison’s grown out curls between your fingers, making Toms chest tighten.

“That’s so funny, Haz.” You laughed loudly, too loud to be real. “You’re just so-“

“Y/n, can we talk in the other room for a second?” Tom snapped, practically springing out of his seat.

“Okay.” You looked at him strangely and got out of your seat. As soon as you were standing, Tom grabbed your hand and pulled you into the hallway.

“Your hair is up.” He pointed a finger at you as he whispered sharply.

“I’m well aware.” You scoffed and folded your arms.

“Why do you keep wearing it up?” He asked, losing his mind now. His blood was on fire now after nearly a week of cat and mouse.

“Why do you care?” You answered his question with a question, only making him more frustrated. Tom opened his mouth to speak but found himself with nothing to say. He ran his fingers through his hair, giving it a stressful tug as he fell speechless.

“That’s what I thought.” You laughed, almost sadly. “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be ready to listen.”

“Y/n.” Tom began but you were already walking away.

“I gotta go.” You mumbled, barely audible as you turned the corner.

Friday

Braids.

You had two Dutch braids, parted down the middle to give Tom a perfect view of the back of your neck.

You didn’t know this, but Tom loved braids.

Like, really loved braids.

He stared at you for a moment, not sure what your reaction would be to him today. After the weird talk you had yesterday, he thought for sure you’d stop with the hairstyles. You had your back to him and of you knew he had entered the room, you didn’t show it. Tom passed you to get a mug from the cabinet. When you didn’t speak, he didn’t either. He slowly poured hot water into the mug and unwrapped a tea bag, wincing at how loud it sounded with all the awkward silence in the room.

“Good morning.” Your voice cut the silence like a pair of scissors, making Tom turn and look at you.

“Good morning.” He said softly, surprised you were the first one to speak. He timidly held his cup of tea, clutching like a child holding a blanket as he looked at you. You weren’t looking up, but it wasn’t like the day before. You weren’t teasing him this time.

You were upset with him.

The searing tension that had been following the two of you all week had been replaced with an ice that chilled the room.

“It’s gonna rain later.” Your voice was delicate and low as you kept your eyes on the newspaper. Tom knew you. You never read the newspaper.

You just didn’t want to look at him.

“Yeah. I heard.” Tom nodded slowly, aching to reach out and apologize to you. He wanted to tell you he was sorry, he just didn’t know what he was sorry for.

“We should probably put a cover over the chicken coop.” You said as you turned the page, eyes never coming his way.

“Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

The silence crept back in and Tom felt a twinge or pain in his heart. He needed you to look at him so he knew you were okay.

“I like your hair today.” Tom spoke again, his voice weak from not trusting it enough to speak at full volume.

“Thanks.” You said sharply, getting out of your seat and taking the newspaper with you.

“Y/n-“ Tom began, taking a step towards you.

“I’m gonna go feed the chickens.” You stated, leaving out the backdoor and not looking back.

A few hours later, you appeared in Toms doorway wearing one of his hoodies. It was too big on you, covering your body past the little black shorts you had on. You were holding a jar of pickles in your hands and had a sheepish look on your face.

“I can’t open this.” You said weakly as you held up the jar. Tom looked up at you from his desk with a small smile. He knew this was your way of apologizing and he doubted you knew what you were sorry for either.

“Come here.” Tom held his arm out and you walked towards him. He took the jar from you and opened it with ease while holding eye contact with you. After you refused to look at him that morning, he needed this.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly at him as you took the jar and set it on his desk.

“You’re welcome, darling.” Tom nodded, setting the lid down beside the jar. Your face contorted into a pained expression and you looked down, tugging at the strings of his hoodie to distract yourself.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. And this morning.” You spoke. “I don’t even know why I’m mad at you. I had no right to be.”

“That’s okay.” Tom told you. “I’m just glad you’re talking to me now.”

“I’m gonna go eat these now.” You took the jar of pickles and the lid and gave him an awkward smile.

“You don’t have to leave.” Tom said quickly when you were halfway out the door. You turned around and his face flushed, feeling embarrassed for sounding so desperate. “I just, um, I mean you could stay if you like.”

“Okay.” You nodded and took a seat on his bed, setting the jar down on his nightstand.

Tom spun around in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees to face you.

“You’re wearing my hoodie.” He noted, hoping that was a good sign that you were not longer mad at him.

“I was cold.” You shrugged and tugged at one of your braids. You began to play with the hair that came out of your hair tie as you looked around Tom’s room. You were avoiding eye contact once again and Tom was growing frustrated. If he had never given you that compliment, none of this would be happening. He worried he had permanently changed the nature of your relationship all because of some stupid statement.

“You’re being weird.” Tom said, speaking before thinking it through. You were both avoiding the conversation but he didn’t want to do it anymore. If he didn’t fix it now, he feared he never could.

“No I’m not.” You scoffed and took out your hair tie, undoing and redoing the bottom of your braid.

“Yes, you are.” Tom insisted, getting out of his chair to gain leverage.

“No, I’m not.” You stood up as well and looked at him sternly.

“Yes you are!” Tom snapped. “You keep touching your hair. You only do that when something’s on your mind.”

“Nope. No thoughts. Head empty.” You tapped the side of your head and laughed nervously.

“Fine. Then I’ll drop it.” Tom held up his hands in defense.

“Good.” You sighed in relief, taking your hand away from your braid and tucking them into the pocket of the hoodie. Tom looked you up and down, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at your braids.

“You wore your hair up every day this week.” He blurted, making you let out a groan.

“Tom.” You whined. “You said you were dropping it.”

“I will drop it.” He promised. “Just as soon as you tell me why.”

“I don’t know why.” You raised your voice, frustrated with both him and yourself.

“I’m sure you can think of something.” Tom snapped back, not being able to take his eyes off those damn braids.

“Does it really matter?” You whined, rubbing the back of your neck as you looked out his window.

“Yes! It does matter. To me, it matters.”

“Why?” You were both yelling now, not even aware of what was making you angry.

“It just does.” Tom sighed, calming down a little. “It just does.”

“Well I don’t have an answer for you.” You shrugged helplessly. “I can’t help you.”

“Does you wearing your hair up have anything to do with me telling you I like the back of your neck?” Tom asked slowly, taking a sudden interest in the floor as he asked the question that had been weighing on his mind all week.

“Oh my God.” You covered your face with your hands and dragged them down.

“What?”

“Stop saying that!” You pointed an angry finger at him. “Stop telling me you like the back of my neck!”

“Why? It’s a great neck.” Tom defended himself and his compliment, unintentionally making the situation worse. Your eyes widened as you balled your hands into fists and looked at the ceiling.

“UGH.” You gripping the sides of your head and spun in a frustrated circle.

“What is your problem?” Tom asked in exasperation as he watched your freak out.

“You! You’re my problem.” You yelled. “I can’t get you or your stupid compliment out of my head.”

“So that’s what this is about? You’re being weird because I complimented you?” Tom asked, a little hurt but even more confused.

“It’s not that you complimented me, Tom.” You shook your head in defeat. “It’s that you gave me that compliment.”

“I don’t get it. I don’t get what the big deal is.” Tom sighed in frustration. He was at the end of his rope trying to figure out what he did wrong.

“There is no deal. Just drop it, okay? Can we please drop it?” You took his hands in yours as you begged him. Tom could see the desperation in his eyes and as much as he wanted to get to the bottom of why his comment set you off, he cared about your feelings more than his own.

“Fine.” Tom agreed, not wanting to push you if you didn’t want to be pushed. You gave him a appreciative smile, still holding his hands in yours. After squeezing his hands to show you were grateful to him for dropping the subject, you went to leave the room. In the few short paces to the door, you heard Tom sigh. You stopped in his doorway, resting your hand on the doorframe. Tom looked at you longingly as you stood there, eyes landing on the back of your neck. It occurred to you what he was doing, making a compromise for your sake. He wasn’t satiated with your answer but was willing to accept it to make you happy, and somehow, that made everything worse.

“I didn’t know how to react.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could consider the repercussions of this particular conversation. The very conversation you and Tom had carefully choreography your relationship to dance around.

The conversation where you admitted that you both wanted to be more than what you were.

“What?” Tom asked, not understanding your statement. You craned your neck slightly, looking at him over your shoulder as you sighed.

“I didn’t know how to react to your compliment.” You repeated. “That’s why I’ve been weird. And that’s why I’ve been wearing my hair up. I didn’t know how to react.”

Your eyes locked with Tom as you stood on opposite sides of the room, feeling every inch of the distance between you.

“Oh.” Tom spoke softly, eyes dropping to the floor.

“You can’t just tell me you like the back of my neck. You can’t.” You shook your head and shut your eyes, unable to look at him in your vulnerable state.

“Why?” Tom asked desperately, wishing you could just be honest with him, even if he wasn’t being entirely honest with you.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed and turned away again. “I can’t do this.”

“What’s wrong?” Tom pleaded. “We have not been able to act normal around each other ever since I sent you that stupid text. Why did it mess everything up? I can’t compliment my friend?”

“Not compliments like that.” You protested breathlessly. “You can tell me you like my ponytail but you can’t tell me you like the back of my neck.”

“Why? What am I missing?” Tom asked in a forlorn attempt to get some understanding. “Is there some compliment rule book I’m not following?”

“No. It’s just...” You shrugged and you trailed off. “Friends can like my hairstyle, okay? They can tell me my hair looks nice or cute or whatever and that’s fine.”

“Okay.” Tom tried to follow.

“Liking the back of my neck, Tom…”, your sentence tampered off as you nervously combed your fingers through the end of your braid.

“What?” Tom asked. “Please tell me.”

“That’s a boyfriend thing.” You finally admitted, and the air thickened in the room. “That’s something a boyfriend would notice. A really, really good one, at that.”

Just about every emotion hit Tom at once, making him stumble backwards a little as he processed your words. You had just cut the wire you had both been avoiding, and now the bomb had gone off. You would never be just friends again. Even if the conversation ended amicably, your relationship would never go back to what it was.

“Oh.” Tom said, squeezing his eyes shut as he regretted his pathetic answer.

“Look, Tommy.” You sighed and stepped further into his room. “I’ve always put my relationships in boxes. I have friends in one, crushes in the other. That’s how it’s always been. But you,” you shrugged helplessly and folded your arms, “you blur the line. You fall in both boxes. And when you tell me things like liking the back of my neck”, you looked at him in anguish, “you blur the line even more. You blur it so much that I can’t even tell where you fall. I don’t see any boxes. All I see is you.”

The corner of Tom’s mouth twitched, curving into a smile at you admission. He took a step closer to you, taking one of your braids between his fingers and toying with it.

“Have I ever told you I like the bridge of your nose?” Tom began. “I like the way it sits on your face. It’s like the bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table.”

“Tom.” You tried you stop him before he made irreparable damage to your friendship.

“Your collarbones look more prominent when you wear silver necklaces, but softer when you wear gold ones. You only wear gold ones if you’re wearing red or green, though.” He continued. “You love putting highlighter on your collarbones when your outfit leaves them exposed, but your absolute favorite thing to do is put blush on your nose. You never skip that. Even on days when you’re tired.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You shook your head, wordlessly begging with him to stop.

“Your pony tail is always lopsided because you lean on your hand when you write or type, and I think that’s wildly endearing. It also gives me a better view of the back of your neck, but we don’t have to talk about that.” He cracked a smile, and you did too. “You can’t tell jokes because you get too excited and give the punchline away. It annoys Harry but I think it’s adorable. Your socks never match and you can’t sleep unless your closet doors are closed. It makes you too nervous.”

“Please-“

“You pretend to scratch your nose when you’re uncomfortable in a conversation and need a break from making eye contact. You don’t do it with me but you do it with Harry sometimes when you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic.” Tom recalled. “You always do it when you’re talking to our neighbor to the left because he makes you feel uneasy. Do you need me to go on?”

“No.” You said quickly. “What point are you trying to make here?”

“I’m trying to say that if these are boyfriend things, I’m okay with that. That’s just how I love you.” He said passionately. “I notice things. I notice everything that makes you up. So I’m sorry if that confuses things for you, but I’m also not sorry. You’re too good not to notice.”

Your eyebrows went up as your jaw slacked like your face was being pulled by a string. Your hand went to your necklace, a delicate gold chain with your initial hanging from it. It was a gift from Tom two Christmas’s ago, and you wore it every time you wore red or green. You didn’t have to say it, but both of you knew you were wearing green underneath Toms hoodie. Your mind was an ocean of words but none of them were making their way to your mouth. You stood there in silence and your hand moved to the back of your neck, finding a home there.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” Tom sighed when he gaged your reaction. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You always use the blue mug in the morning.” You said after a beat of silence. “You use it in the morning but never at any other time of the day. I don’t know why you do it but you do. I always thought you never let anyone else use the blue mug until you made me tea in it after my breakup with Brad. I swear, the tears stopped falling right then and I think you noticed that because you always give me that mug when I’m sad.” You laughed softly. “Your hair stylist combs your hair to the left but you like it all pushed back. You always leave two buttons unbuttoned on your shirts and you leave your closet doors open when you sleep. It drives me crazy but you do.”

Toms lips melted into a firm line as tears filled his eyes. He always felt like a book that only he could understand, but you had just interpreted the pages. He was rendered speechless as you revealed all the things you noticed about Tom but never spoke about.

“I notice too.” You said softly. “Maybe not the back of your neck, but I notice.”

Tom smiled brightly at you, feeling his heart swell just from the sight of you. He looked down bashfully and stepped closer to you, your chests touching once again.

“I, uh, I started leaving my closet doors open as a kid so Sully from Monsters Inc would have an easier time getting in my room.” Tom admitted. “I used to wait up to meet him and I never broke that habit.”

“Oh my God.” You chuckled and wiped a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “You’re an adult.”

Tom laughed along with you, a comfortable silence replacing the sadness of the room with your highest hopes.

“You’re my best friend.” Tom said suddenly as his laughter died down.

“And you’re mine.” You told him.

“I don’t want you like a best friend.” He shook his head rapidly as he put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. You put your hands on either side of his face and pulled him impossibly closer, taking the chance to grip the curls on the back of his neck. Tom smiles against your lips and grabbed both your braid in one hand, tugging them firmly to deepen the kiss.

“These damn braids.” Tom groaned, making you laugh into the kiss.

“You should’ve told me you liked the back of my neck sooner.” You said between kisses.

“I hadn’t seen that episode of Grey’s Anatomy yet.” Tom spoke breathlessly as he pulled you in for another heated kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair before pulling away suddenly when you processed what he said.

“Wait, what?”

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kaijime · 4 years ago

Text

lights down low pt. 2

pt. 1

anon. lights down low was so good can u do a continuation of it maybe like y/n invites some of them to her house and boom gangbang

includes. kuroo tetsurou, bokuto koutarou, oikawa tooru, ushijima wakatoshi

cw. fem reader, fivesome, a yagami yato reference (little cutie), oral (receiving and giving), fingering, vaginal penetration, creampie, Bokuto’s kind of a sub ig??, handjob, face sitting, squirting, double penetration, anal

a/n. Kinda don’t wanna leave an a/n because I’m still mad at the fact that the first time I wrote this it got DELETED, still spicy about that but what can I do? I was already planning on making a sequel to Lights down low since it did so good, I just couldn’t figure out how and who. Anyways, hope your guys enjoy it.

It had been a few month since the wonderful videocall that left them all hot and needy. It wasn’t the only time that happened, in fact, ever since then it was repeated at least twice a week. Which obviously led to some awkward moments in the hallways.

The one time Tendou groped your ass in the hallway, or the one time Kuroo pinned you against the wall, got really close to your ear and whispered ‘are you wearing that underwear we love so much for tonight?’. Which for the record, you were, but now it was wet.

Currently you were in your house. You eyed yourself in the mirror one last time before you heard the doorbell ring. You rush to answer it, knowing full well who was waiting for you on the other side of the door.

The door was locked behind you when you let the four boys, Kuroo, Bokuto, Oikawa and Ushijima. For a moment you just stood there, wondering what to do now. Well, you had invited them home because your parents weren’t going to be home for the next few days, so I guess it was their move now. You walk to the kitchen and they follow you, almost like lost puppies.

“So...would you guys like something to drink? Or something to drink?”

“That sweet pussy” your cheeks flushed at his words, embarrassed by the fact that they had barely arrived and they already had you dripping through you panties. Out of nowhere Ushijima picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and holding the back of your thighs to keep you safe. They walked up the stairs and down the hall to your room and Ushi placed you on the bed carefully.

You sat up quickly, taking off your shirt and slipping off your shorts as the boys quickly take their clothe off. The bed shifted when Oikawa climbed on. “No bra? Is this all for us baby?” You nod your head, a silent beg. Trying to communicate how much you needed him.

You feel the bed shift again when Ushijima slips in behind you, you end up between his legs, his rock hard dick pushing against your lower back. The boy in front of you slips a hand in the waistline of your cute underwear, doing nothing to hide the wet spot in between your legs, and he pulls them off. He leaves your wet cunt on display for the rest of the men in the room and throws your panties to an unknown corner of the room.

“This here...its so wet. Have you been thinking of us? Little cutie?” you nod as you guide both of Ushijima’s hands to touch your breasts, using his calloused fingers to tease your nipples and he catches on quickly to how you want him to treat you. Oikawa leans in and licks a long stripe through your folds, his warm tongue making you feel all kinds of ways. “You like that?”

He goes all in, diving between you legs to work his magic, sucking your clit occasionally, which drove you insane. You raised your hips, grinding them against his mouth for more friction. You finally got a piece of what you needed when he slipped a finger into your hole, he watched as your face transformed completely with every twist and turn he gave with his finger, and even more when he slipped in another one.

“Tooru please... f-fuck me”

“Be patient love, we wont leave you unsatisfied. Now let go, I wanna hear your sweet music” he curls his fingers at the right spot making your hips shoot up in pleasure and he starts leaving marks on the inside of your thighs. One of his hands is knuckles deep inside you and the other one is holding your leg over his shoulder, you’re loving every second of it. “Are you close? I wanna hear you scream my name darling”

“T-Tooru!” you shout s you clench around his fingers, your slick coating them and your body was squirming. Shaky words mixed with his name and other profanities would spill out of your mouth in your moment of ecstasy, driving all of them crazy. Ushi’s cock twitching behind you and you felt a small drop of liquid trickle down to your arse, his precum.

When you finally came down from your high Tooru quickly flipped you over so that now you finally see Ushijima’s big cock. It wasn’t anything to laugh at, standing tall and bumping against his abdomen, his pretty pink tip dripping precum.

“Don’t be shy darling, take it in your mouth” Oikawa suggested, although his tone indicated it was and order.

“Its so big, I don’t think I can” you give it a try anyway, licking a stripe from the base to the tip, repeating the movement over and over until you took it in your mouth. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes and threatened to slip out. And they did, when Oikawa entered you with no warning, he took your distraction with Ushijima’s cock to his advantage and sheathed himself inside of you all at once. You let out a loud moan, which only sent vibrations through the cock in your mouth and made the man throw his head back at the feeling.

Oikawa started moving, steady thrusts while he held your hips with his calloused hands, sure to leave marks. Ushi moved too, thrusting his hips into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat every time and holding your hair to steady himself.

“Fuck- You feel so tight” you shift your gaze to your left and watch Kuroo jacking off with a piece of fabric around his length. Not just any piece of fabric, your previously discarded panties, the sight alone makes you clench on Tooru, and he notices. “Awwe, clenching when you see his fucking himself with your panties? Such a slut, having two of her holes stuffed. How does it feel? Oh wait, you shouldn’t speak with your mouth full”

Then you saw him, Bokuto, sitting in a chair and watching you with pleading eyes. His length just begging to be touched. You motioned him to come here with your hand and he did as told, desperate to be touched. When he got close enough to the bed you grabbed his cock and stroked it, rubbing the tip with your thumb and basically fucking him with your hand.

“(Y/n)! Can I cum inside? Please let me come inside”

“Of course you can Ushi” Oikawa answered for you, he was still going at it, with every thrust he went faster and harder, his eyes fixated on the way your ass bounced and jiggled every time he shot his hips against yours. The sight was so arousing, he couldn’t hold back any longer and he leaned over you so his chest was right behind your back. He left kisses and bite marks on your neck and on the back of your neck.

Ushijima spurted thick ropes of cum into your mouth, holding your head close to him and forcing you to swallow it all. Not that you would complain. You felt Bokuto’s dick in your hand twitch, a signal that he was close. You took Ushijima’s cock out of your mouth, a little bit of his seed dripping down your chin, you filled you mouth with Bokuto’s cock. You hollow your cheeks in hope of making him spill it all inside and he did, painting your cheeks white with his cum and throwing his head back at the amazing feeling.

Just as you felt the white haired male nearing his end you reached your own climax, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your walls spasming around Tooru’s cock.

“You feel so good- hah! I’m gonna cum!” he shot his load inside your hole, leaving a warm feeling behind when it was over and he pulled out. Your fucked out figure was flipped again, laying on your back while Oikawa cleaned your chin with his shirt. “You did so good for us doll, now its their turn” he motions towards Kuroo, who had your panties in his hand, except now they were coated in his white substance.

He laid on the bed next to you and you sat up supporting yourself with your elbow.

“Sit on my face” your eyes shoot open in shock.

“Wh-what?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself doll, come sit on my face” you hesitantly move your way up to be situated on top of his face, holding onto the headboard of the bed for dear life. “Come on dear, I don’t have all day”

He grabs your hips with a bruising grip and shoves you down on his mouth and he sucks on your clit. Slurping, sucking and other lewd noises could be heard from his spot in between your legs. He brought your body up to let himself be heard.

“I want you to fuck yourself with my tongue”

“N-no I can-tt ah! Kuroo-!” he lowered you on his tongue and you began grinding on his face, his nose occasionally grazing against your clit. Minutes later you feel yourself close to orgasm, though this one feels different, it feels stronger.

“K-Kuroo no! I’ll make a m-mess-! Please let me g-get off Kuroo!” he pretended he didn’t hear you, he wanted you to make a mess. So you did, squirting all over his face, your juices dripping on his cheeks and he licked his lips to taste you.

“You taste so good doll, now I wanna see you do that again. Bo, come over here” and the male followed the orders, his cock was painfully hard again. Kuroo moved from the bed, taking you with him in his arms as you held onto him like a koala. Bokuto laid down on the bed on Kuroo’s previous place and Kuroo placed you above Bokuto’s rock hard cock.

“K-Kuroo no! Its so big! I-I can’t take it” you whined when he put you down on his friends cock. He reached deeper than you could’ve ever reached with one of your toys, though they all seemed insignificant right now, you could never go back to using them now that you found something bigger and better to satisfy yourself with. Your train of thought was interrupted when Kuroo entered a finger in your ass, the sudden stretch in your unused hole making tears fall again.

“N-no! Kuroo that’s s-so dirty”

“Nonsense baby, nothing about you is dirty. Nothing you could ever have...” he moved the finger inside of you, trying to get you used to the new sensation while you bounced on Bokuto’s cock. “Nothing you could ever do...” he slips in another finger and your pain turned into pleasure the harder he went with his fingers. “Nothing you could ever say... would make me think that you’re dirty”

He removed all three fingers from your hole and you felt relieved. You shouldn’t feel relieved though, you should know by now, Kuroo doesn’t do anything without a reason. He only pulled his fingers out of your asshole because something bigger was coming. He went inside.

You scream out his name in pleasure, the feeling of being stuffed by two cocks was even more fulfilling than one. You kept bouncing on Bokuto, who was just taking in the view of the contortions of your face, how your eyes would shut every time he hit your cervix and how your whines only became louder.

You put your hands on Bokuto’s chest so you could keep balance.

“Oh! What do we have here?” curious Oikawa had found your small vibrator on your drawer and smirked at you playfully.

“N-no-! Ple-ease, no more! No m-more” but it was too late Tooru had put the vibrating bullet against your clit and had your body shaking and squirming in pleasure.

“You feel so good (Y/n)-! If you clench on me like that-... I’m gonna cum” Bokuto whined. You just nodded your head, too absorbed in your own pleasure to mind him while he blew his load, coating your cute cunt in his cum. Kuroo left open mouthed kissed on your shoulder and that was the last piece of pleasure you needed to explode. You pulled yourself off his cock and make the mess, leaving his thighs soaking with your slick.

The sight made Kuroo finish, pulling out of your ass and spurting cum on your back. When he finished his orgasm he stood back and admired the masterpiece he had created. After that you collapsed on top of Bokuto, and the rest of your memories were foggy. You remember the warmth of the bath they gave you as after care and you remember Ushi tucking you in.

And you remember thinking as you went to sleep, ‘what a well spent afternoon’.

©️ kaijime | all content belongs to kaijime, do not modify or repost

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brooklyns-supersoldiers · 4 years ago

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Please Don't Leave Me (1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, some violence

Summary: You go on a routine mission, but it doesn't go as planned.

A/N: This is an idea that popped into my head and I decided to write it. It's going to be multiple parts (I want to say 3 or 4?? That's the plan right now). As always, any thoughts and feedback are appreciated!

Word Count: 1293

“It’s a routine mission, Buck. I’ll be okay.” You assured your boyfriend who was currently sitting on your shared bed pouting while you packed.

“I should be going with you.” He complained with a frown. You stopped packing and moved over to him, slotting yourself between his legs and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist pulling you closer.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten injured during the last one then.” You teased looking down at his ankle which was currently wrapped up.

“I’m a super soldier. I’d be fine.” He mumbled, pulling you in for a hug and nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Mhm, you sprained your ankle from a fall, Buck. Super soldier or not, it still needs more time to heal.” You explained, rubbing his back to soothe him. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Wanda and Nat are going with me. Steve’s in charge of the whole thing. The most that you have to worry about is that we gossip too much.”

“Just promise me that you’ll be in touch and let me know what’s happening.” Bucky asked, pulling away to look you in the eyes. You could see the worry in his eyes as he bit his lip. You gave him a small smile and caressed his cheek.

“I promise I will. You know I will.” You told him. He gave you a small smile in return. The two of you always stayed in touch when you were on missions without the other. Most of the time it was just a quick text or call, but it was enough to keep the other from worrying too much.

“Well, I think I’ve done enough packing for tonight and I don’t leave until tomorrow…” You commented, knocking the bag to the floor and leaning into Bucky. He smirked and quickly you were on your back under him.

“I think I know what we can do to pass the time then.” He said and you giggled before pulling him in for a kiss.

“So what’s the plan?” Wanda asked as the quinjet got closer to its destination. Natasha was already checking her guns, making sure they were fully loaded.

“Natasha and I will go in on the East side of the building. The guards should be changing shifts which should make it easy to sneak in undetected. You and Y/N will go in from the Southeast where their security is weakest. We’re in charge of intel. You two need to check for hostages and then rig the place to blow. We’ll all meet back at the jet” Steve explained, finishing right as the quinjet landed.

“Same thing as usual.” You commented, zipping up the bag full of explosives and shouldering it.

Just landed. Be back before you know it! You quickly texted Bucky before walking off the jet after everyone.

The cold immediately hit you when you walked out causing you to shiver. There was already a few inches of snow on the ground and fresh snow was falling from the sky. Curse the fact that this facility had to be in what felt like the coldest part of Russia. You couldn’t wait to get home.

“Be safe and good luck!” Steve called as he and Nat ran off towards the Hydra facility. You and Wanda took off jogging towards your designated side.

“So do you and Vision have anything fun planned for when you get back?” You asked her to make small talk, trying to distract yourself from the cold biting at your face.

“He wants to try this new restaurant that opened up in the next town over.” Wanda smiled. “What about you and Bucky?”

“I think we’re going to have a movie night so I can catch the old man up on pop culture.” You laughed.

Approaching the building, Wanda immediately took out the one security camera and broke the lock on the door.

“I love when we team up, have I told you that?” You asked, holding the door open for her.

“Only every time.” She laughed and rolled her eyes before walking in, you quickly following behind.

So much for a routine mission.

It was absolute chaos. Alarms were going off. Guards were everywhere. You and Wanda were sprinting down the hallway for your lives. Wanda was using her powers to keep the Hydra agents away while you shot those who managed to still advance towards you.

“Wanda! Y/N! Where are you?” Steve yelled over the coms.

“In the building still!” You called back. “Where are you two?”

“We’re almost out! How long until it blows?” Nat questioned, the sound of gunshots sounding over the ear pieces.

“Five minutes.” Wanda chimed in, rushing down a new hallway trying to get to the exit. She suddenly skidded to a halt causing you to have to stop.

“What is it?” You asked as you watched Wanda rip the door off its hinges. You checked, but for now the coast was clear.

“This is one of their labs. I recognize it. It looks like the one they used for me.” She said walking in.

“Wanda… we don’t have time to walk down memory lane.” You looked around nervously waiting for more agents to appear around the corner.

“Not a walk down memory lane.” She replied, walking out carrying a child. It was a young girl, she didn’t look to be more than 10. “She was cowering in the corner. I could feel her fear.”

“Alright let’s go!” You yelled and quickly turned around only to find a bunch of guards running from that direction.

“Shit.” You mumbled. “Okay, you run that way and get out with her, I’ll buy you time and meet you at the jet.”

“But-” Wanda started, an uneasy look on her face. “GO!” You yelled, pulling out your gun. She quickly started running off while you started shooting the Hydra guards down.

“You two are on your way out right?” Steve asked again. “Nat and I are already out. It’s going to blow any minute!”

“We’re working on it, Steve!” You yelled back at him, cursing as your gun jammed. You threw it away and started running in the same direction Wanda had. In the process, your earpiece managed to get loose and fall out.

“Really?” You groaned, not bothering to stop for it. There was no time. You had a minute to make it out before the place blew up.

Nat stood on the ramp of the jet trying to see through the snow which had picked up significantly since the mission started. Steve was pacing, trying to get in touch with either of the two who were still missing.

“They’ll make it out, you know them.” Nat assured him. “See there’s Wanda!” She pointed out as Wanda’s frame came into view.

“Are you hurt? Who is she?” Steve started asking questions as soon as she got close enough.

“I’m fine. This is one of their hostages. We should have Dr. Cho check her out when we get back. I think they were doing tests on her.” Wanda quickly answered, trying to catch her breath.

“Wanda, where’s Y/N?” Nat asked slowly as soon as she realized you weren’t right behind her.

“Wait, she’s not here? She was going to buy me some time and meet me here.” Wanda explained. “I can go ba-”

She was interrupted by a loud explosion which caused the three to turn around. The ground was shaking and the building was starting to collapse, sending debris and dust into the air. Nat and Steve exchanged a look of shock and disbelief. Wanda covered her mouth with her hand, a slight sob escaping at the realization.

You hadn’t made it out in time.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes series #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic

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wordsnwhiskey · 4 years ago

Text

As It Should Be | Chapter 4: Company

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: Whiskey gets a surprised call and he and Frankie have a long talk.

Rating: M

Warnings: Talks of drug use, alcohol, mentions of character death, mentions of canon typical violence, PTSD, violent nightmare

A/N: I really wanted this conversation to happen between these two given their respective histories. We all know that Whiskey needed therapy and in this verse he gets it. It’s also my HC, from what I vaguely know (I’m not an expert and I could be very wrong), that Whiskey was an officer in the Air Force where he flew/placed in jets and that’s how he knows how to fly an F-22 (The Silver Pony).

We are getting some angst and some fluff this time folks!

Also, yes I do have a specific soap in mind for Whiskey, it's Old Glory by Duke Cannon

Huge special thanks to mi esposa @danniburgh and my friend Agent Capri Sun for the betas and encouragement!!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 3: Statesmen & Demons | AO3

He was drowning. He needed...something. He needed help.

Frankie pulled his phone out, went to the recent number that was, as of yet, unsaved, and pressed ‘call’. His shaky hand brought the phone up to his ear as the line rang.

Whiskey’s hair was still wet from his shower, and his white t-shirt clung to his damp skin. Eyeing the take out on his counter, he sank into his couch and smiled at your texts:

Whiskey: Thai sound good, sweetheart?

Bourbon: God yes Jack, I’m starving!

Whiskey: I’ll let you know when I get outta the shower, see you soon sweetheart

He was just about to send you a message to come on over when his phone rang. Glancing at the clock on his stove, then back to the unfamiliar Texas number on his caller ID, he frowned.

“Whiskey.”

His greeting was curt. Who the hell would be calling at 8:30 pm on a Wednesday?

“H-hey Whiskey, it’s me, Frankie. Is… uh, is she there?”

Whiskey’s frown deepened, not that he minded Frankie calling him, far from it, but his voice was cracking like he’d been... crying?

“Oh, hey there, Flyboy. No she isn’t, do you need me to get her?”

“N-no, no… I, uh, I don’t want her to see me right now. I’m, uh,” Whiskey could hear Frankie take a deep breath on the other side of the line. “I’m having a bad night, Jack. Could you come get me? I’m at the hotel.”

Jack shot straight up, practically leaping to his feet.

“Did you…?”

The question clung to the air like lead, crushing both of their chests in the silence.

“No, I haven’t… I just… fuck.”

Jack was moving, grabbing his leather jacket, keys, and Stetson, practically sprinting out the door.

“Don’t worry about it, Flyboy. I’m headed your way.”

He shifted his weight while he waited for the elevator to take him to the parking garage, shooting off a quick text to you in apology. Frankie’s words, “I don’t want her to see me,” rung in his ears and he decided to hold off on telling you what had come up, at least until he could see you at the office tomorrow.

Whiskey: Hey sweetheart, sorry something came up and I can’t do dinner tonight. Everything’s fine, see you at the office, sugar. X

Your phone went off and you quickly unlocked it, eager to hear back from Jack so you could head over. A frown pulled the corners of your lips down at his text, but you knew he wouldn’t cancel on you without good reason.

You: See you tomorrow, cowboy. Better make it up to me ;)

Frankie had left the door slightly ajar and was pacing around his room, arms crossed in front of him when he heard a quick knock, then the handle was turning and Whiskey crossed the threshold. He took a cursory glance around the room: nothing but minibar booze bottles, thankfully. Whiskey let out a sigh of relief that was short-lived when he took in Frankie’s demeanor. Frankie’s face was taut with shame, and his gaze refused to rise any higher than Whiskey’s boots.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Frankie choked out, “ Pope, and Hawk… I can’t disappoint them again. I’ve been clean for three years, and I didn’t…”

Jack shook his head and beckoned Frankie over, wrapping his arm around the other man’s shoulders and pulling him in for a quick, tight hug.

“C’mon, Flyboy, this is not the time nor the place to talk about this. I’m taking you back to my place, and we’re gonna have some whiskey that’s much better than what you’ve had here, and then we can talk.”

Frankie nodded and grabbed his hat, planting it on his head as Whiskey tugged him out of the hotel room. He was so deep in his thoughts and his guilt for having Whiskey come out that he didn’t realize where he was until the elevator dinged. Whiskey unlocked and opened the door to his condo, giving way to a view so incredible Frankie almost forgot to breathe. Across from the entryway, on the far side of the condo, the gorgeous New York night skyline twinkled back at them from beyond the wall of glass windows. Frankie marveled at the rustic elegance of Jack’s home. It had an entirely open floor plan, giving Frankie a view of the dark cherry butcher block island, the top-of-the-line range top, and other appliances, all immaculately clean. For a moment, he wondered if that was because Whiskey ordered out more than he cooked, but then he saw the bags of takeout on the counter and immediately felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, looks like I interrupted your dinner plans.”

Whiskey closed and locked the door behind him, hanging his jacket up on the nearby hook. He glanced over at the takeout, then put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, partner. I just told her something came up. You hungry? I ordered her Drunken Noodles, be a shame to put them to waste.”

Frankie was about to decline when his stomach rumbled, and Whiskey chuckled.

“C’mon, Flyboy, go sit down on the couch and I’ll bring the food and some whiskey round.”

With a nod, he toed his dress shoes off (they were all he had without his go bag) and made for the brown leather couch. He sat down a bit stiffly, feeling awkward given the circumstances. Whiskey brought over the containers of food, handing one to Frankie and resting his own on the coffee table before grabbing them the promised drinks. He sat down, and Frankie took his drink in one hand, relishing in the smooth burn as he took a sip, then set it down to dive into his food.

They ate in a relaxed and cozy silence. Frankie finished first, which wasn’t a surprise. When Whiskey finished, he took Frankie’s empty container with him to toss in the garbage before he made his way back. An awkward silence replaced the previous comfortable one, and Frankie found himself having a hard time pulling his gaze from the amber liquid in his glass. Whiskey took a deep breath, then turned on the couch to face Frankie.

“Santiago said you’ve been clean for three years? That’s quite the accomplishment.”

“Yeah, thanks. Doesn’t really feel like it right now. I feel like I failed. I’m worried I’ll slip up.”

“I don’t think you will, Frankie. Neither do Pope or Bourbon.”

Jack didn’t know why, but the words rang true in his mind, even though he hadn’t known Frankie for very long.

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to throw three years of hard work away, Flyboy.”

A small smile tugged at Frankie’s lips and he took a sip from his glass.

“Must’ve been weird for Halcón. Last time she saw me, fuck, I was barely with it. The suspension hit me hard. I had been getting my shit together before Colombia and the funeral. I just wanted to be able to fly. I couldn’t and still can’t stand the idea of being grounded. That, and I knew my fianceé would leave me if I didn’t get it together. But then, well, we all went to Colombia.”

“I couldn’t imagine being grounded. I don’t fly often, but to not have the option? I dunno what I’d do.”

Whiskey shook his head and grimaced. Frankie perked up, head snapping to meet Whiskey’s gaze.

“You fly?”

“Mmmhmm, was in the Air Force for a bit, did jets. Statesmen has an F-22, the Silver Pony, that I fly.”

A small buzz of excitement was washing over Frankie, and he subconsciously scooted closer to Whiskey. He didn’t really have anyone to talk to about flying, even if helicopters and jets were two very different means of flying.

“What made you risk it, Flyboy? What happened in Colombia?”

Frankie frowned and let out a deep sigh.

“Pope had been down there for a few years, chasing a narco named Gabriel Martín Lorea. He finally got a break when his CI told him she knew where he was hiding out and where he was stashing his money. He showed up outta the blue asking us, our old team, to come down and do recon, $17k just for a week of recon. If we wanted to stay on after that, we’d be entitled to 25% of whatever we seized, and the rumour was that Lorea had $75M on him. I’m guessing Halcón was busy with a mission for you guys, and I’m glad she was. It ended up being a fucking shitshow.”

Whiskey noted the faraway look in Frankie’s eyes as he sighed and took another swig from his glass, shaking his head as Frankie recalled the events.

“After the recon, Pope said he thought we could do the job ourselves, take all the money and not tell the local governments. We found out that the local agency hadn’t been the ones to pay us the $17k. That had come out of Pope’s pocket. He was so sure that the locals were on Lorea’s payroll, and if he went to the local agency, Lorea would disappear with the money. At the end of the day, none of us could say no. Turned out the rumors of Lorea having $75M were wrong. The house was stuffed, literally, with cash. Tom, our captain, got greedy. He ignored our hard-out time and insisted we take more loads of cash. We ended up stealing close to $250M, then we burned the house down.”

Whiskey whistled. “$250M is a lot of money, partner…”

Frankie barked out a humorless laugh, his eyes rueful.

“Too much. Our helo couldn’t take it all and make it over the Andes. I knew it before take off, and I warned Tom and Pope, but all any of us could see was the money. Tom didn’t want to leave it on the runway. I almost had us over the Andes when a gearbox blew, and I had to get us back to flat. We had to cut the money net, and it was just our luck that it happened to be over a coke farm. It was a bad landing. I honestly don’t know how none of us were seriously injured, but Pope and Tom went to go and convince the farmers to get out of the money. Our comms were out, so we were going off of hand signals. Tom got too trigger happy, and he dropped a few of the villagers. I-I provided cover fire, too…”

Frankie hung his head, no matter how much Will, Benny, or Pope had tried to reassure him, he still held an enormous amount of guilt over what had happened. He felt Whiskey’s hand rest on his shoulder, and he leaned into the touch.

“That’s what you were trained to do, Flyboy. You couldn’t have known any different, especially without comms.”

Frankie nodded, taking a large gulp of his whiskey, then continued on.

“A couple days later, we took fire in the mountains, and they got Tom. It ended up being a kid and another guy from the coke farm. We killed them, but there was nothing we could do for Tom. Headshot, he died instantly. 10 years we all served together, and then he was gone, leaving behind an ex and two daughters. It could have been any one of us though, Jack… we all took lives during that mission. Tom just took the wrong ones. It… it could have been me even, I shot some of those villagers, too.”

Frankie felt Whiskey’s grip on his shoulder tighten and looked up to see the empathetic sadness of someone who truly understood how he felt reflected back in Whiskey’s eyes. Frankie cleared his throat.

“We ended up bailing on a lot of the cash, taking only what we could carry in our daypacks and tossing the rest in a ravine so we could haul Tom’s body out with us. At the end of it, we made out with around $5M, but we all agreed it should go to Tom’s family. I got back to find my fianceé had left. She couldn’t stand my leaving with Pope. Looking back, my addiction is probably what really did us in, but I was devastated to come home to an empty house after everything that had happened. Things got… dark after that. I fell back on old habits, fuck, I had barely been clean a few months when we went to Colombia. I didn’t want to think about what we’d done there, didn’t want to feel the emptiness, didn’t want to sleep and deal with the nightmares. I was a mess, and I… uh, I took too much one day. Pope found me unconscious, lying on the ground, and got me to the hospital. When I came to, I realized I didn’t want to end up dead in my shitty apartment, once they discharged me, I checked into rehab.”

Frankie took another drink. No one other than Pope knew that knocking on death’s door had been the turning point for him. Whiskey chewed on his lip, taking a drink and debating whether he should share his past as well.

“Drugs are… a terrible thing to get hooked on. My high school sweetheart, carrying my unborn son, was murdered by two meth head freaks robbing a fucking convenience store. I was on leave from the Air Force, waiting for them to come home when I got the call. I didn’t realize how much it festered in me until about a year back when we were taking down the Golden Circle.”

Frankie nodded. He remembered that he had been glad he was clean by then.

“I’m sorry, Whiskey… I didn’t know, I shouldn’t have-”

Jack’s hand moved from Frankie’s shoulder to rub his back reassuringly.

“Listen, the things you’ve done and seen for our country… and not, well, it’s a lot, and I know it’s not the same as the freaks who… it’s not the same. I almost sabotaged the mission. My hate-addled brain thought it would be justice… It was Bourbon who very literally knocked me on my ass and kept me from making a decision I’d regret. She encouraged me to see a Statesmen counselor, which has been a lot of work, but has been more helpful than I ever thought it would be. Have you thought about that?”

Frankie was distracted for a moment by Jack’s hand. It felt nice, reassuring, safe, things that had been sorely lacking for him today.

“I have and I did, well, I had to as part of the program, and I kept it up for a bit after. It helped, but… I couldn’t really talk about what happened with Tom. Sure there’s confidentiality and all that, but what we did is all kinds of illegal. I couldn’t exactly bring that to a session or group.”

Frankie snorted, a ghost of a smile tugged at a corner of his mouth.

“Really though, aside from the program I was in after rehab to get my license back, I’ve gotten some hobbies and some other out-outlets. This was just a lot. I needed to not be alone.”

Jack cocked his head at the way Frankie stuttered and subconsciously fidgeted with the bandage on his right wrist. He had picked up from the night prior that Frankie had a thing for pain, and Frankie’s reaction when he had bandaged him up was further proof of that. But using it as his sole outlet or method of working through his issues was something he wouldn’t enable. His eyes narrowed, and before Frankie could blink, Jack snatched his left hand, mindful of the tender marks as he held fast and fixed Frankie with a hard stare. Frankie flinched at the sudden movement then his eyes widened a little.

“You know this ain’t a solution, Flyboy.”

Jack’s voice had an edge to it bordering on a growl. Frankie shook his head quickly.

“Shit, no, Whiskey, the i-impact p-play stuff, i-it’s an outlet, and it’s not my only outlet. I met my old partners, Sam and then later on her husband, a year and a half or two years ago. I was a year clean before I even had my first session with either of them. I met Sam when she booked a flight tour, and one thing led to another… She’d come back into town and sometimes her husband would come with, but we all kept everything pretty quiet. They helped me relax, and they had their fun.”

Frankie was doing his best to be nonchalant, but he couldn’t help the slight bitterness creeping into his voice. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Jack’s tone had thrown him off guard, unexpectedly stirring something in him. Whiskey, of course noticed on both counts, having been trained to do so. He could see through Frankie a mile away. Frankie nervously took another sip from his glass, shuddering as Whiskey’s thumb gingerly rubbed circles over the marks, seemingly accepting his explanation.

“You know, had I known about your… interests, I would have done things a bit differently last night, Flyboy.” He winked at Frankie, then smirked as he examined Frankie’s wrist more thoughtfully. “How are they doing?”

“G-good, thanks. And uh, well, you’re one of 3 people who know.” Frankie murmured.

Whiskey’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise as he nodded and released Frankie’s hand.

“Really? Not Pope or Bourbon?”

“Are you kidding me? Pope would never let me hear the end of it. There are some things he doesn’t need to know.” Frankie chuckled and shook his head. “And Halcón? Well, there was never any reason for her to know. We never did anything together before last night.”

“How long has it been since you last saw Sam or her husband?”

Frankie downed the rest of his whiskey, eyes far away for a moment, remembering their last session, the sharp pain followed by a rush of endorphins and the occasional soothing praise. He shook his head gently, blinking himself out of his memories at the feeling of Jack’s warm hand on his knee.

“It’s been a while, six months? They moved overseas.”

There was a beat of silence, Whiskey could sense there was something up, it was a subtle shadow flitting across Frankie’s face. He decided to push a little more.

“Did you have feelings for them?”

“It was complicated.”

The edge in Frankie’s voice was tinged with pain, and he tried to cover it up with a laugh that came out humorless.

“I guess it isn’t that complicated. After six months, things shifted, and they made it clear I wasn’t part of their long term plan. It became very transactional, which was fine, but there was less and less... care after.”

“Oh.”

The response slipped from Jack’s lips, and he was momentarily stunned quiet before his temper began to flare. His index finger and thumb gently gripped Frankie’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Listen carefully, Flyboy. What I did last night was the bare minimum of what someone should do in that kind of situation. Anything less is negligent. Christ, how was this ever stress relief for you if you were left to free fall afterwards?”

Whiskey’s voice was calm and even, but Frankie could see the fury raging in his eyes. Sensing Whiskey’s desire for understanding, he nodded then shrugged.

“I guess I’d try to go on a hike with one of the guys or go train at the gym.”

Silence fell between them, a muscle in Whiskey’s jaw clenching before he glanced at the clock and let out a deep sigh, willing himself to calm down.

“It’s already just about midnight, Flyboy. Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll put on a clean bandage for you once you’re done. You can use my bathroom. There’s a clean towel hanging you can use. Don’t worry about clothes, I’ll leave something for you to sleep in on my bed so you can change while I set up the guest room for you.”

Frankie was about to protest, saying he could do his own bandages, but Whiskey fixed him with a stare and shook his head.

“Go on Flyboy, get yourself in the shower. Head down the hall, second door on the left. Your room is across the hall. I’ll be waiting there with the medkit when you’re done.”

Whiskey took Frankie’s empty glass and stood, taking their glasses to the sink while Frankie got up and made his way to the shower. A pensive frown tugged at Whiskey’s lips. Tonight certainly explained a lot of things. The sharp fury that permeated Whiskey’s chest when they were talking about Frankie’s previous partners returned. How could someone not be bothered with aftercare? It was also clear that Frankie felt abandoned by them. On some level, the poor man was probably terrified of that happening again, if he even entertained the thought of something between the three of you. Whiskey waited a few moments until he heard the water running before heading into his room. He let out a sigh as he grabbed a white t-shirt and a pair of linen shorts for Frankie to wear, leaving them on the bed before he left to make sure the guest room was all set.

Frankie undressed quickly, folding his clothes and setting them down on the vanity in a neat pile crowned with his hat. Next, he made quick work of unwrapping the bandage around his wrist and tossing the materials in the garbage. He let out a sigh of relief as he stepped into the shower and the hot water scoured the last two days from his skin. The relief was quickly replaced with a small whine of pain as the water hit his wrist. Closing his eyes and bracing himself against the wall with his forearm he breathed through the pain, acclimating to the sensation. Frankie took a minute to just exist, trying to enjoy the quiet that had slowly crept back into his mind. Taking a deep breath, he set to work getting himself clean. The steam made the air thick and heavy with the scent of Whiskey’s soap, something akin to leather and tobacco leaves. It clung to Frankie’s lungs, and he could have stayed there enjoying it for considerably longer. But, he didn’t want to keep Whiskey waiting, so he rinsed off and hopped out of the shower. He toweled off, smirking to himself when he saw it was monogrammed (because of course it was), then headed out and changed quickly into the shirt and shorts that had been left for him.

Whiskey looked up in time to see Frankie stride through the doorway wearing his shirt and shorts, smelling like him, his soap. He swallowed thickly and tried to recover with a smile.

“Feel better, Flyboy? C’mon, sit down. Let’s have a look.”

Frankie nodded, then took a seat next to Whiskey on the bed and gave him his right hand. Whiskey hummed his approval at the lack of resistance from Frankie, something the pilot felt tug at his chest.

“This is looking much better, Flyboy, should be completely healed in a few days.”

Whiskey smiled as he finished tending to and wrapping up Frankie’s wrist. Without prompting, Frankie offered his other wrist and Whiskey couldn’t bite back the smirk that followed. He was glad though, glad that Frankie was trusting him with this and was embracing these moments, even if it was for something small. Frankie’s left wrist was considerably better off, but even so, Whiskey was still gentle as he looked him over.

Frankie’s heart fluttered at the intimacy of what was happening. Here was Jack, a man he’d known for barely 48 hours, who was taking care of him, who had dropped everything to come get him, who had spent his evening letting Frankie talk. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him this way.

There was an overwhelming urge building in his chest, and without thinking, he acted on it.

He gripped the collar of Whiskey’s t-shirt with one hand, tugging him closer as Frankie leaned in and kissed him. Whiskey was shocked for a moment, it had been the last thing he had been expecting, but he quickly recovered when he felt Frankie’s tongue swipe at his lip. His hand rested along the column of Frankie’s throat, thumb grazing over the scruff along his jaw as he deepened the kiss, leaning into Frankie and tasting him.

A small moan pulled Jack back to his senses, resting his forehead against Frankie’s and cupping his jaw with this other hand. They both panted, trying to catch their breath, and Whiskey smiled as he gave Frankie another quick kiss. For a moment, Frankie was worried he had overstepped when Whiskey cut off their kiss, but looking into the other man’s eyes, he knew that wasn’t the case.

“You’ve had a long day, Flyboy, we’re not gonna do anything tonight. Tomorrow though, if you want, I could help you get rid of some of that stress and help you come down the right way. No rush, no pressure, you can say no and nothing changes. I don’t want an answer right now either, sleep on it.”

Frankie’s breath quickened and his pupils dilated at the thought, but one thing nagged at him.

“What about Halcón?”

Whiskey chuckled and patted Frankie’s shoulder.

“Well it’s what we both want, in a manner of speaking. She’d be onboard, but she doesn’t have to know exactly what we do for now unless you’re comfortable with it. A lot of this is stuff I know she wants to go over on Friday, but for now, when it comes to me and Bourbon, keep an open mind and try not to overthink it, partner. If you want to do this tomorrow, then we can do it. If not, no harm, no foul, you’re still welcome to stay here and keep me company.”

Frankie nodded, still processing what Whiskey had said and more than a little surprised that Whiskey was inviting him back regardless of his decision. Whiskey stood up then, squeezing Frankie’s shoulder.

“G’night, Flyboy. Holler if you need anything.”

Frankie was back in Colombia. He felt sluggish, his feet refusing to respond the way he wanted them to. He saw the villager from the cocaine farm pop up from the rocky outcrop, but Frankie couldn’t move, couldn’t draw his gun to take him out. He cried out in anguish as the man fired.

“No! Tom!”

Then he was surrounded by Pope, Benny, Will, you, and Whiskey, statuesque as the man who killed Tom lined up and dropped Pope, moving his way down the line. Frankie was sobbing now, he was being swallowed up by the ground, sinking helplessly as the people he cared for were murdered.

Whiskey woke with a start to the sound of shouting.

Ripping the sheet and comforter off, Whiskey glanced at the clock. It read 01:30 and he sighed. Frankie just couldn’t catch a break.

“P-please, No! Po-Pope, God, n-no, Hal-Halcón! Whiskey!”

He really didn’t want to shake Frankie awake, worried as to how he might react waking up from that sort of dream, but Jack had to do something.

“Hey, Frankie, I’m right here, you gotta wake up. Wake up, Flyboy.”

Frankie shot up, feeling like ice water had been poured down his spine. He was wild-eyed and breathing heavily, but once again, Whiskey’s soothing words served to ground him, and he clung to them with all he had. He felt Whiskey pull him into a hug, and Frankie didn’t care about the awkward angle, he clung to the embrace as well.

Whiskey’s heart ached at the way Frankie clutched at him after hearing him call out Pope’s, his, and your names. He had a vague idea of what might have happened, he still had dreams where he couldn’t save his loved ones every now and then. Once Frankie’s breathing calmed a bit, Whiskey tugged him up out of bed.

“C’mon Flyboy, you’re coming with me.”

Frankie didn’t argue, he just followed, grateful that Whiskey was pulling him by his hand, needing that point of contact. Whiskey pulled back the covers on the side opposite of his and waited until Frankie crawled in before he pulled the covers over him, then slid in on his side of the bed. He scooted a bit closer, not wanting to crowd Frankie unless he wanted the contact, and was pleased when the other man scooted back until his back rested against Jack’s chest.

“Get some sleep, Flyboy. I’ve got you.”

Sooner than he expected, Whiskey heard soft snores coming from Frankie. He smiled then wrapped his arm around him and pulled him closer.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs & comments are much appreciated!

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atticsandwitch · 3 years ago

Text

Obey Me Headcannons

What they do when you have chronic pain and you get stuck. Sometimes with chronic pain, you try to move but the pain stops you and you get stuck in place. Here's how I think the characters would react.

(This mostly happens to me with my back, so that's mostly how I wrote these, though I tried to be vague)

Some angst in Solomon and Simeon's.

I might post Solomon's separately too because I actually really love how it turned out.

Lucifer

It had been quite the long day and you decided to spend a little time somewhere quiet. You head to Lucifer's study, where you can spend some time listening to music with him and reading while he finishes his paperwork for the day.

You settle in on the sofa with your book and a cup of tea, but it's difficult to get comfortable and you find yourself shifting positions more and more as the night wears on and the aches set in. Though the scratch of Lucifer's pen never stops, he doesn't fail to notice this.

Eventually you decide to head to bed, but as you go to sit up you freeze in an awkward position and gasp as a sharp pain shoots through you. Your hand reaches gingerly for the source of the pain for a little support as your eyes scrunch shut.

Lucifer is up as soon as he hears your pained voice, coat falling from his shoulders and forgotten on the floor. By the time you open your eyes, he's kneeling by your side.

"Are you alright?" He asks, not bothering to hide the concern on his face.

"It hurts..." is all you can mumble, "I can't move"

He replaces your hand with his, trying gently to soothe the pain, "Try to relax" He looks up at you through a few strands of hair that have fallen into his face and you feel an intense warmth where his hand lies on your body, followed by your muscles loosening and relaxing slowly. You sigh in relief

Satisfied that the pain has passed, at least for the moment, Lucifer gingerly scoops you into his arms and carries you upstairs to his room. He tucks you into his bed, and still leaning over you places a soft kiss to your forehead as his hair tickles your face.

"If you need anything just call for me. I'll be along shortly. Until then, get some rest" He says. As he leaves he turns out the lights and leaves the door to the study open in case you need him.

True to his word, you're barely drifting off to sleep when you feel the weight of the bed shift, and an arm pulling you close to his chest.

Mammon

Every time it happens he panics a little, even as he starts to get used to it happening.

You two had been out shopping all day, running around until you were both exhausted. As you got back to his room with all of the shopping bags, you could already feel your body stiffening up as though it could sense that the day was ending.

You sat down on his bed while he unpacked a few of the shopping bags, and let yourself fall backwards onto the soft mattress as the exhaustion started to fully set in.

"Hey, I can't find that watch I bought, is it in one of your bags?" He asks. You start to sit up, but your body freezes at an awkward angle as a pained noise escapes you and you try to support yourself with one hand on the mattress, the other on your back where it feels like you're being stabbed.

The noise startles Mammon, and he drops what he's holding as his head whips in your direction, "What-!? MC, are ya okay? What's'a matter?!" It feels like someone put his heart in a vice grip and crushed it when he sees the pained expression on your face and he rushes to your side.

"I'm stuck!"

"Whaddaya mean stuck?!" No one told him this happens to humans! His hands hover near you for a moment, afraid to touch you in case he makes it worse.

"Hurts... Can't move"

"Okay... uhhh. here!" he puts a hand on your back and tries to help you sit up but you yelp again and shake your head. "A-Ahh! So-sorry MC! Here, just lean on me then" Feeling guilty and sad for his human he sits down and wraps his arm fully around you, to support your weight until the pain starts to subside, "Don't worry, Mammon's here. I've got you, so just relax" His face reddens further as you grip his shirt, and his heart swells as you lean into his touch, relying on him. Trusting him. Needing him. He'd stay like this forever if he had to, but soon you move tentatively, testing whether the pain has subsided enough for you to move again.

His strong arms support you, helping you lay down and get comfortable in his bed. He's not letting you go anywhere or do anything else tonight.

"Geez, don't push yourself so hard. Tell me next time before ya over do it, okay?" He sighs, looking down at you with a troubled expression before taking his jacket off and climbing in next to you.

Leviathan

You two were having one of your gaming / anime binge nights and you had been sitting in the same position for far too long, so you might've guessed that this would end up happening. When you finally try to move to change positions, you get stuck, with a soft noise of pain that startles Levi.

"Ah!"

"Wh-What was that?!" Startled, His face turns bright red. He can't tell you what it sounded like, but when he sees the look on your face his turns redder in embarrassment at where his mind had gone.

"I'll be fine in a minute... I just... can't move" the pain in your voice is obvious and his heart shatters.

"What can I- Is there anything I can-?" He's not sure what to do or say, but he knows he wants to help, and yet his heart sinks when you shake your head. He feels so useless.

"I just have to wait it out" You try to move again, but it brings tears to your eyes as you gasp a second time. All he wants to do is protect you, to be your hero, but how can he protect you from your own body?

He hesitantly reaches out, half pulling back for a split second before resting a tentative hand on your back and trying to rub calming circles there.

"I... think I have a heating pad somewhere?" He offers.

"That would be great"

"Okay" He doesn't move to go get it until you're able to move on your own again. He couldn't bring himself to leave your side.

"Alright, I have a few other things that might help too" He returns with a bag he'd loaded with supplies, "Let's go to your room, MC"

He knows the bed-tub probably isn't the best place for you to properly rest in, and he also knows that there's really no place like your own room when you're not feeling well. So, he helps you limp to your room and into bed with his Ruri-chan heating pad, supporting you the whole way and blushing furiously. Then, he puts on an anime on your tv so the two of you can continue your binge more comfortably.

He pulls you in close, and with one hand, tilts your head to lean on his chest, still blushing at his own boldness.

Satan

He's in the library at the House of Lamentation, sitting on one of the couches reading when he hears a sharp intake of breath and a quiet whine. He puts down his book and gets up to investigate, where he finds you at one of the tables, half standing from your seat, but unmoving.

He quickly approaches you, noting the look of pain on your face, "MC, what's wrong?" He asks, sliding an arm around your waist to help support you. Without much thought he tries to help lift you into a standing position, but you moan in pain again and he stops immediately, eyes widening.

"I can't-! I can't move" You gasp, "It hurts"

Briefly his face reddens at the realization that the two of you are stuck like this for a little while, but his worry overshadows anything else.

"I'll be okay in a minute" You try to assure him, but the way your voice sounds is anything but reassuring. He just nods, prepared to hold you for as long as it takes. He looks down into your face with concern in his eyes.

"What brought this on?" He asks.

"It just happens some times. I guess I pushed myself too hard today, and my body just locks up" You explain. He nods, already mentally trying to figure out the best way to look up a phenomenon like this to try to calm his racing heart.

Eventually you try to move again, and he helps you stand up.

"You should rest, now. Let's get you back to your room to lie down" He says, pulling one of your arms over his shoulder and supporting your weight, one arm still around your waist as he walks you there. He takes it slow, and helps you into bed, making sure you're comfortable. He leaves for a little while but returns with a few books, some tea, and a bottle from the medicine cabinet for you.

"Do you mind if I read with you for a while?" He can't bring himself to leave your side just yet, though he knows you need some rest. He wants to be there in case you need anything. He'll likely be there until you fall asleep, possibly falling asleep next to you as well.

Amodeous

You two spent nearly an entire day doing Devilgram photoshoots, and you had no idea how exhausting and painful it was to be doing modeling poses for so long. Your muscles were burning after thirty minutes, but obviously Asmo wouldn't be satisfied with such a short photoshoot.

He'd noticed that you were getting tired, so the two of you were heading back to the House of Lamentation. He thought it would be romantic to stop at the park for a rest, and maybe a few candid Devilgram shots, and so he lead you to a nearby bench.

"Smile!" He pulls out his phone, and as you turn to lean into him, you jolt in pain as your body freezes awkwardly and you grab his thigh for support.

"MC! So forward today~! You know I lov-" He stops as he looks into your face, scrunched unpleasantly in pain, "Oh, dear! Are you alright?"

"It hurts..." You whine, tears prickling at your vision. He gives you a heartbroken look before sliding an arm around you to support you, and leaning over you to block you from anyone else's view. He brings his other hand to your face to stroke your cheek with his thumb and wipe away your tears. It tugs at his heart when one of your hands reaches up and grips his shirt for more support.

He peppers your face with soft, comforting kisses, assuring you that he's there for you, "Shhh, just focus on me, okay? I'm right here" he whispers.

Once you're ready to move again, he encourages you to put your arms around him so he can help you the rest of the way home, high key loving the excuse to have you touching him. The rest of the walk back is filled with promises of relaxing baths and massages. He is going to take such good care of you tonight.

Beelzebub

The two of you had spent the day on a hiking trail that Beel had been excited to check out, and really wanted to share the experience with you. However you felt about hiking, you did not expect the trail to be so intense.

Beel checked in with you regularly, making sure you were doing alright, but he had been so excited about this trail that you were determined to make it through. Unfortunately this meant that by the time the two of you made it to the top you'd already pushed yourself too hard.

You supported yourself with one arm against a tree, breathing heavily as Beel happily took a look at the scenery from where the two of you stood. You try to straighten up and move to join him closer to the edge of the cliff where he stood, but you froze.

His head whips around when he hears you whine in pain, and he's at your side in a second, "Are you okay?"

"I'm stuck"

"Stuck?" His eyes widen, hands hovering near you, unsure what to do.

"I overdid it" You say with an apologetic look, "It hurts to move"

"I'm sorry" He says sadly, moving closer, "Where does it hurt?"

You slowly move your arm to point to the locked up portion of your lower back, and he kneels behind you, "Will it hurt if I touch you?" He asks tentatively. When you give him permission you feel his strong hands begin gently rubbing the sore muscles there. The way his thumbs and palms massage your back feels so good you can't help but sigh, and you blush a little as you feel how big his hands really are. He's slow and gentle, and has a knack for finding all of the knotted muscles, and he doesn't stop until you give him the signal that you're feeling better.

Once you're able to move again you turn around to thank him and see a hint of pink dusting his cheeks as he looks up at you, "I'll carry you back. Here" He turns on his knees, offering you his back.

"Are you sure?" You ask guiltily, remembering the arduous trail.

"Yea!" He smiles over his shoulder at you, "You should take it easy, and it'll be a great work out for me too"

You feed him trail snacks as he happily carries you all the way back to the House of Lamentation. He'll run you a bath and get some food together for the two of you and make sure you're resting comfortably before he goes and gets cleaned up himself.

Belphegor

It had been a long day and you were looking forward to getting home and laying down. Of course you and Belphie are nap buddies, and today you can't think of anything better than a big bed full of soft pillows and blankets, so you head off to find him.

He's in the attic today, and your body doesn't particularly want to climb all of the stairs, but neither of you can help but smile when you see each other. He greets you with a laugh as you flop down in bed next to him, your greeting muffled in pillows.

"Aww, what's the matter?" He laughs, and the little shit begins tickling you so he can see your smile. And at first you do. You're laughing and twitching, trying to escape his touch, when suddenly your body jerks and you moan in pain. Belphie immediately pulls away in shock, seeing you frozen at an awkward angle, face scrunched up in a heartbreaking expression.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" He's afraid to touch you now, feeling guilty. Unwanted images of the last time he hurt you surfacing in his mind.

"Hurts to move..." You whine, "I'll be okay... in a few minutes" You try to breathe but even that hurts your stiff body in this position. He leans back over you and slowly reaches out to stroke your hair.

"Try to relax" He says softly, feeling quite helpless and unsure of what else to do. So, he stays like that, stroking your hair and giving you gentle, comforting caresses as he encourages you to breathe and relax. He'll kiss your forehead and help you get more comfortable once you can move again before showering you with more kisses.

He'll curl up next to you and hold you close for the rest of the night, still patting your head, and running his hands over your arms or sides or wherever he can reach to comfort you and let you know he's there. He'll help you fall asleep quickly and makes sure you have good dreams tonight.

Diavolo

You've been bent over your Devildom History paper for hours, and you knew you needed a break but you were nowhere near done. You were working on it at the castle, because you thought that there couldn't be a better place to go for references than somewhere so central to Devildom history and Diavolo was happy to open his home to you. Diavolo was working on his own paperwork nearby in case you had any questions, and as an excuse to allow himself to be distracted.

You stood to stretch, but immediately regretted it. As soon as your back straightened, you collapsed forward to support yourself with your fists balled on the table before you, arms rigid and body trembling with pain.

You don't even hear him get up, but he's at your side almost instantly, "MC! What happened, are you alright?" Worry clear in his tone. He thinks his heart may stop as it stutters in his chest.

You try to straighten again, but whine in pain, body forcing you to stay put, "I'm stuck"

"Stuck?" He's surprised, confused, and concerned in equal measures. He didn't know humans could get 'stuck,' and what's more, it's breaking his heart to see the pain you're in.

"I think I sat in a bad position for too long... It hurts to move"

"I see. It hurts... here?" He asks, placing a heavy hand gently on your back. When you nod you feel a soothing, tingling sensation spread out from where his hand lay. He rubs your back in comforting circles as the magic spreads from nerve ending to nerve ending and slowly, you feel your body start to relax and the pain subside.

Standing hesitantly, you test your body, and find only the remnants of a dull ache as you straighten fully.

"You've worked hard today," He looks down at you with kind, sad eyes, "I think it's time for some rest and a reward!" One hand still against your back, he bends down and places the other behind your knees, picking you up slowly so as not to jostle you too much and cause your muscles to tense again. "How does dinner in bed sound? You can stay here tonight"

Barbatos

It had already been a long day of chasing the brothers around and participating in their antics, and it was barely past lunch. You were leaning against a nearby wall for support when Barbatos walked by.

"Ah, MC! I was preparing to take a walk in the gardens, care to join me?" He asks with a pleasant smile. A relaxing walk sounded like just the thing you needed. You nodded with a smile and moved to step away from the wall only to wince, and fall back against it for support.

His eyes widen, "Mc? Are you quite alright?" He steps nearer, worry plain in his usually composed features. He extends a steadying hand to you, which you gladly accept.

"I'll be okay..." You gasp, "It hurts to move, but it'll pass"

"I see. Allow me to support you" Gently, he wraps his other arm around you, taking your weight easily. You wince again as you lean away from the wall and into his embrace and he feels a harsh tug at his heart as you let out a small whine. "I apologize, MC. I did not realize you were feeling unwell today. If there is any way I can be of assistance, please tell me"

"I appreciate you," He blushes a little at your words, "I just need a little rest. It's been a long day" you continue.

"In that case, I'm happy to stay like this as long as you need. I must say it does feel nice to be able to be this close" He admits, looking into your eyes with a soft expression.

Once the pain begins to fade, you let him know. He slowly helps you shift your weight back. You still limp a little as you take a few hesitant steps, but he never lets you go.

"Shall I escort you home? I could call a car" He offers.

"I think I'd like to take that walk with you" You smile.

"If you are sure, then we shall take it slow" He can't help but return your smile. He remains quite attentive as he supports you along the walk. One arm remains around you even after your walk returns to normal and you assure him the pain has gone. He just can't bring himself to let you go, "I'll stay by your side as long as you'll allow me to"

Solomon

Solomon had invited you to Purgatory Hall to work on an experiment with him. It had been a long day, but you were looking forward to spending some time with him even if you were tired. You sat next to him as he worked, getting completely wrapped up in the experiment, as he often tended to.

Simeon and Luke were out for the evening, so it was quiet, particularly compared to the House of Lamentation, and it afforded you some time to relax. Today was one of those days where there wasn't much for you to help with, which your achy body wasn't going to complain about, but you still found Solomon's company soothing and enjoyed watching him work.

"Do you mind if I go grab a drink real quick?" You say, standing from your spot beside him and heading to the door.

"Sure" He responds absently. You leave and after a few moments he realizes something, and calls out to you from his desk without looking up, "Be careful though, some of my other experiments are in th-"

His voice dies in his throat when he hears your gasp of pain, immediately followed by the shattering of glass on tile. He stands so quickly he knocks over his chair and stumbles over it as he runs toward the kitchen, long fingertips pushing his upper body away from the floor as he struggles not to lose his momentum.

In seconds he's in the kitchen, noting the clear liquid pooling around the shards of glass on the floor and the way you're supporting yourself on the counter, unable to stand up fully. He does a mental inventory of the unlabeled experiments in the refrigerator and comes up short. He can't remember which one that was, but he knows any of those unfinished potions could mean a painful demise.

He's standing in front of you without even realizing he had crossed the kitchen, gripping your upper arms and staring into your face with wide, worried eyes.

"What did it taste like? How do you feel?" His words are rushed with panic.

"What?" You're confused, but the pain in your voice makes him feel like the ground might slip out from under his feet.

He swallows past the lump in his throat, "I need to figure out what you drank so I can counteract the effects! Please-" The plea in his voice gripped your heart and something he once told you floated into your mind uninvited; 'I don't think I could remain calm if I lost you.'

"It was water" You assure him. He looses a deep sigh of relief as the panic begins to subside at the realization that he hadn't poisoned you, and is suddenly aware of how fast his heart is beating. He has to stop himself from hugging you, realizing with new worry that you still looked like you were in pain.

"Then what...?" He searches your face for answers.

"I'll be okay in a few minutes... I'm just stuck"

"..." He blinks a few times, "Stuck?"

"It hurts... I can't move" You try to breathe an explanation. He looks so worried that you try to move again to show him you're alright, but it's too soon. You wince and freeze again with a small whine, failing to make him feel any better as you'd intended to.

His expression shifts from worry to sadness. "I might be able to help. If you'd like, I could offer a temporary magical solution?" He asks.

"Please"

One word from you and his heart skips a beat. He rolls up his sleeves and moves to stand at your side where he can reach behind you. He rests a large hand on your back, eyes never leaving your face, and you feel something soothing and cool move through your muscles, relaxing them and easing the pain. Soon you're able to stand again without supporting yourself on the counter.

"Feeling any better?" He asks, still looking concerned.

You look into his eyes, "So much better. Thank you," You look down at the floor, "The glass! I'm sorry..." You sigh, looking for something to clean it up with.

He chuckles, "I don't give a damn about the glass, MC" with a wave of his hand the liquid evaporates and the shards dissolve into a glittering dust that is carried away on an otherwise imperceptible breeze.

You give a somewhat embarrassed smile, "And... I'm sorry I scared you"

It's his turn to look embarrassed, "No" He shakes his head, "I'm just happy you're alright. I don't know how I'd live with myself if I'd... If I'd lost you like that," 'If I'd killed you,' he's unable to even vocalize the fear that had opened a yawning hole in his heart just moments ago.

He sets his experiment aside and the two of you spend the rest of the night together enjoying each others' company.

Simeon

Luke had suggested another exchange student sleepover at Purgatory Hall, no demons allowed!

The four of you always had such fun with these sleepovers, playing games, baking, watching movies, and just spending time together that it became something of a regular thing. It was almost a tradition. Simeon loved the way you played with Luke, how your smile lit up the room, and just getting to spend time with you. Though it was rarely time spent alone together, he still cherished it and would often find ways to get closer to you; holding your hand under the table, partnering with you in a game, leaning against you as the two of you giggled at a funny movie, sleeping next to you on the common room floor when it was time to go to bed.

It was long since lights out, and though you and Simeon stayed up talking well past the time when the others had fallen asleep, you'd both since gone quiet and you assumed that he'd drifted off as well.

You moved to get more comfortable, and a surge of pain caught you by surprise, a quiet moan escaping your lips as you froze, half held up by one elbow.

"MC...?" Simeon's voice in the dark followed by the sound of rustling fabric as you sense him moving closer to you "Are you alright?" He whispers. You can feel his breath on your skin. You nod, both pairs of eyes having long since adjusted to the dark.

"I'm stuck" You whisper back, pain evident in your voice even at such a low volume, "It hurts to move...!" Even in the dark you can see the look of concern on his handsome face, and he can see the tears brimming in your eyes. He slides even closer to you until you're hip to hip.

You look up into his eyes as he leans over you, "Here," He slips an arm under you to support your weight and holds you, "Relax, I've got you" He says, hair falling into his face as he looks down at you in his arms. His normally cheerful face is uncharacteristically serious.

Humans are fragile, mortal creatures with short lives. He knows this, he's always known this but... This is perhaps the first time that you're mortality has really hit him. And it hits him hard.

His wings appear behind him, and wrap around the two of you. They radiate warmth as he tries to embrace you with his whole being, but they also serve to further remind him of the distance between the two of you. How different he is from you. The rules he's supposed to follow, though their rules were never going to stop him. He can't help but feel angry at the unfairness of it all for a moment.

He'd always thought he'd understood why the brothers fell for their sister, but in this moment everything became so much clearer, and now he felt like he understood Lilith too. Why she risked her life and fell to help a sick human. And he realized, that if he'd known then what he knew now, he happily would have fought and fallen for her too. Seeing you so fragile, in his arms, he vows to himself to protect you no matter what it would cost him.

The two of you stay wrapped in his wings in silence for a long time. Even after the pain subsides, he can't bring himself to let you go. You reach up to caress his face, and he leans his cheek into your palm, allowing your touch to soothe his worries away. Eventually the two of you fall asleep wrapped up in each other.

Luke and Solomon are surprised at the sight the next morning; You curled against Simeon's chest, and Simeon's wings still wrapped around the two of you. They both secretly snap pictures, and their excited 'Awwww!'s and teasing eventually wake the both of you.

#Obey me #obey me characters and mc with chronic pain #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeous #beelzebub #belphegor #diavolo #barbatos #solomon #simeon #I'm really happy with how I wrote Solomon's ngl

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nephilim-problems · 3 years ago

Text

He hates me

I'm having a lot of fun writing this! Due to a friend's suggestion this is a Carl grimes x reader

Part 1

It's been a few weeks since we came to Alexandria. Dig became one of their supply runners and I was always left to stay here. Rick refused to send me because of my age but I knew it was because he didn't trust me. Carl eventually told Rick I'm the one that shot him in the shoulder and no matter how many times I explained I thought he was going to shoot me first Rick didn't relent. I spent most days sitting on the top of the wall or just hanging out at home.

"I'm going with Rick and Glenn on a run today. It'll only take a few hours," Dig said as I loaded some breakfast onto his plate.

"Oh and what am I supposed to do while you're gone?" I smiled at him while loading my own plate.

"Spending some time with the other kids is a good idea," Dig said, which made me laugh.

"Right because we have so much in common," I replied, shoving a spoon full of powdered eggs in my mouth.

"I'm just saying, you might find someone you like," he smiled and took a sip of water.

I rolled my eyes at him, "Right. I'd get along so well with girls who had their hair and nails done and haven't killed a single thing."

"You never know," Diggle said, smiling at me. "(Y/N), you can't stay in here all day wallowing because Oliver and Thea haven't found us."

I stayed quiet and licked my gums I hated when he was right. I mean true I don't have anything in common with almost any teenager here but that's never stopped me from making friends before.

" I'll think about it, Dig," I responded. "I can promise nothing more."

"That's all I ask," he said, putting his plate in the sink. "Rick's throwing a party for us tonight, you need to be there."

"Do I have to?" I asked grumbling.

" Yes, you do," he smiled, grabbing his jacket and gun. "I'll be back."

He came over and kissed my head before walking out the door. I finished my food and placed my plate in the sink before sitting on the couch. I was trying to figure out what I was going to spend the day doing when I heard the door open.

I didn't even think and threw a knife at the door. I heard a loud scream and saw the knife sticking out the door frame and the side of Carl's face bleeding.

"You can't sneak up on me like that! I could've killed you," I snapped, grabbing a towel and going to dab his face.

"You knew I was coming," he snapped, ripping the cloth from my hand and pushing past me. "John said you were looking for me."

I started laughing and Carl glared at me.

"What's so funny?" Carl spat at me.

"Just a conversation I had with Dig this morning," I said, waving him off.

"So why did you need me?" He asked.

"I didn't," I said. "He insists I need to hang out with you and the other teens."

"So are you going to?" He snapped.

"Nope," I said and he scoffed.

" Too good for us?"

"Nope."

That wasn't the response he was expecting. He almost looked confused by my answer.

"I'm going to the wall," I replied, crossing my arms. "I'm going to watch for Dig and make sure he gets back safe."

"That's stupid," He replied and I laughed again.

"Yeah well I lost 2 siblings," I snapped and grabbed my bow and Oliver's hood. I paused and held the fabric between my fingers for a moment before looking up to Carl. "I'm not losing another one."

Carl's stoic face fell for a moment.

"Lock up when you're done," I said, throwing Oliver's hood on and walking out the door.

I made my way to the wall and climbed it. I was met with Daryl. He gave me a side eye and turned his eyes to the road in front of us. I did the same. It was peaceful for a moment until I looked over and saw Carl climbing up the wall. I scoffed and loaded an arrow in my bow.

"I don't need a babysitter," I scolded as he made his stance next to me.

"Could have fooled me," Carl said sarcastically.

"You know some days I wish I would've put that arrow through your fucking skull," I said, not taking my eyes from the road ahead of me.

I heard Daryl laugh and try to disguise it as a cough.

"I'm still thinking about putting a bullet through yours," Carl responded.

"Try it. You won't get far," I said loudly. "I'll even load the gun for you."

Carl scoffed at me and Daryl laughed again.

"Sounds like you met your match," he said and it made me smile for some reason.

"I didn't know you could smile," Carl said and I refused to let him win.

"I didn't know you could stop being an asshole," I said and paused. "Wait, you don't."

Carl went to reply when we heard a scream. We all looked towards the road. I know it wasn't Dig, it sounded too feminine. We waited silently, with weapons drawn. It felt like hours we were in that position even though it was maybe 5 minutes when I saw what looked like my sister carrying Felicity smoak. Zombies were running behind them, maybe 5 or 6 of them behind them.

"Help," I heard her scream and I knew it was Thea. "She got hurt, please help."

"Thea," I shouted and started picking off zombies. "open the gate."

No one could say a word before I was climbing down the wall.

"Are you dumb?" Carl shouted and I ignored him.

I quickly started taking out the zombies behind her.

"What the hell did you do? Set off a bomb?" I snapped at Thea noticing it was definitely more than 6 coming.

"(Y/N)," She said excitedly as I put down another walker.

"We'll catch up when we're behind the walls," I said back as I heard a gunshot next to me.

"Go," Carl snapped and all I could remember was Oliver yelling at me. "It'll be easier if you help her."

"I'm not leaving you behind," I called and I didn't know if I was talking to Carl or Oliver.

"I'm right behind you," He replied as I stabbed an arrow through another walker.

I looked between the two and ran to Thea. I put Felicity's arm around my shoulder and we moved a lot faster. We basically ran through the doors and Carl was right, he stayed right behind us. That was until we got to the doors. I heard him scream and I dropped Felicity. A bolted over to him. I put an arrow through the walker's skull and grabbed Carl's hand to pull him away. my adrenaline was going too fast and instead of pulling him slightly he came flying and falling right on top of me.

"So are you going to forgive me now for shooting you?" I asked as both our cheeks were red.

He didn't reply and just got up, lifting me up with him.

I ran over and helped Thea carry Felicity to the Doctor.

"Is she bit?" I asked as we got her into the house.

" N-no," Thea said.

"What happened?" The same brown haired girl from a few weeks earlier asked.

"Someone beat her with a pipe," Thea replied and the girl nodded before taking Felicity back.

"Thea," I whispered and captured her in a hug.

"I never thought I'd see you again," she whispered while holding me.

" We're together now," I said as we parted. "We're not gonna split again."

"Is Dig--" she started asking.

" He's fine," I responded. "He's on a supply run. Is Ollie okay?"

" I don't know, we got separated 8 months ago," Thea shook her head.

I lowered my voice so it was barely a whisper, " the blood lust, is it still there?"

Thea nodded in response.

I was about to ask her about something when I saw Carl approach us so I shut it.

"Coming to check on me Grimes?" I laughed. "I'm flattered."

"John's back," he responded and I pushed past him.

Thea followed me as we searched for Dig. He saw us and looked stunned. He ran over and hugged Thea.

"Is Oliver with you?" He asked.

"No," Thea shook her head. "Just Felicity. We got split from Oliver and Laurel 8 months ago."

"Laurel's alive too?" Dig said.

"And Sara," Thea answered

"You didn't tell me you were with Laurel," I said.

"You didn't ask," Thea shrugged.

"Any news on Barry?" I asked and everyone shook their heads.

"If there was any moment I wanted a boy with superhuman speed, it's now," I said crossing my arms.

"Is anyone else alive? Iris, Cisco, Caitlin?" Thea asked and Dig nodded.

"We saw Catlin when we got here but no word about Cisco or Iris," Dig replied.

"So what do we do? Go find them?" Thea asked. " Saving the world is kind of our job."

" Yeah from drug Lords and rapists not flesh eating zombies," I replied. "Besides, we can't go far until Felicity is better."

"Where is she?" Dig asked.

"Their makeshift hospital," I responded. " Thea brought her in about an hour ago."

"Is she okay?" Diggle's eyes went wide.

"She's fine," Thea responded. "The girl working on her said she'd come grab us when she wakes up."

"When's our party?" I rolled my eyes and Dig flicked my forehead. "Ow."

"Tonight," he responded. "Rick's really trying with you but you're not making it easy."

"They hate me! All of them!" I snapped. "Especially Rick and Carl."

"You shot Carl in the shoulder," Dig responded.

"Okay and Ollie shot me twice!" I snapped "TWICE!"

"He's 15!" Diggle said.

"I was 14 your point?" I replied and Diggle rolled his eyes at me.

"I don't think Carl hates you," Thea piped in and I laughed.

"That kid has done nothing but hate me since I got here," I said laughing. "'i don't think he hates you' you're hilarious."

" I'm serious!" Thea snapped, smacking me. "I think he has a crush."

I burst out laughing again and Thea smacked me again. It was funny though there's no way Carl Grimes would have any sort of romantic attraction to me.

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #rick grimes #thea queen #the walking dead #the flash #arrowverse #green arrow #oliver queen x sister!reader #oliver queen #john diggle #caitlin snow #daryl dixon #glenn rhee

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kpop---scenarios · 4 years ago

Text

Turn - pcy

Byun Baekhyun | Park Chanyeol | Kim Junmyeon | Kim Jongin

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Chanyeol is the first one to recieve Baekhyun's one time favor of pussy.

"Are you fucking crazy?" Chanyeol exclaims, dropped his grilled ribs back onto his plate. "You fucking did what?"

"I asked Ayn if she'd sleep with you." Baekhyun says, bobbing his head with a smile.

Chanyeol couldn't.. he couldn't understand just how Baekhyun could have thought this was a good idea, let alone a sensible thing to do. But then again when did Baekhyun ever truly have any good ideas.

"How hard did she hit you?" Chanyeol laughs, picking up his meat and placing it in his mouth as he anticipated Baekhyun's response. He couldn't see any fresh bruises, or scratches. Maybe she was smart and hit him where no one would notice.

"She didn't actually." Baekhyun says in a snarky tone. "She agreed."

Chanyeol chokes on his meat for a second before he swallows it, his eyes widely staring at Baekhyun. "She doesn't even know me." He says.

"True. But as she put it a friend of mine, is a friend of hers." He smiles. "She also said it was really sad that you hadn't cum from some good pussy in a while and she would be happy to be that good pussy for you." Baekhyun finishes, smiling at a now pissed off Chanyeol.

"I can't.. I cannot believe you did this." Chanyeol scoffs. This entire thing was insane.

"Do you not want to do it?" Baekhyun asks. "She wants you to meet her at the club tonight." He finishes, holding up a folded piece of paper in between his fingers. "The address."

"You're too much sometimes, Byun Baekhyun." Chanyeol laughs. "Like actually what the fuck."

"Okay.. Well I'll just put this away then.." Baekhyun says, slowly moving the paper back to his pocket.

"Give me the goddamn paper man." Chanyeol grunts. "And get out." He says, snatching the paper before walking away from a grinning Baekhyun.

A few nights later, Chanyeol is standing in front of a loud and busy night club, taking a few deep breaths before he heads in. He didn't expect anything to happen, if anything, he was just going there to make sure you weren't stranded there, alone. He was doing this for you, to make sure you were okay and you weren't like.. lonely or anything. This wasn't for him.

He nodded to the bouncer who just waved him in, his heart was thumping so quickly, the lump in his throat made it hard to swallow. Fuck his mouth was dry.

He walked past the bar, seeing an area with a few scattered tables, and they all had multiple people at them, except for one. It must be you. He watched as a man walked over to you, his smile bright, head held high, two drinks in his hand and a confident strut.

30 seconds was all it took for you to have both of his drinks in front of you while he walked away with his head hanging down. Chanyeol chuckled as he shook his head, walking over to the table, now knowing you didn't need anyone's help.

"Listen, my dude.." you begin before squinting your eyes. "Wait!." You smile. "You're Chanyeol."

"That I am." He smiles, moving his hair from in front of his eyes.

"You're hot." You laugh, taking a sip of your drink.

"Thank you." He chuckles. "You're so hot." He mumbles, hoping you didn't hear him. But the smile on your face told you he did.

"Drink?" You ask, motioning to the spare one in front of you.

"Sure, why not. One can't hurt." He says, grabbing the drink and taking a swig.

"Yeah.." you smile. "One."

Two hours, a few shots and a few more drinks later, your hand rested on Chanyeol's thigh while his warm was around your shoulders, playing with the little hairs on the back of your neck.

"Fucking Baekhyun." Chanyeol groans. "He's so embarrassing."

"Hey, no reason to be embarrassed. Fucking is nothing to be embarrassed about. We all go through times that we need help." You wink, making him groan.

"I bet I could make you groan louder." You whisper in his ear.

Chanyeol perks up and you grab his hand, pulling him up. "Lets dance." You exclaim, dragging him to the dance floor.

You face away from Chanyeol, feeling his body stiffen as you close in the space between the two of you. You roll your eyes as you grab his hands, placing them on your hips as you start moving them to the beat of the song.

It only took a few minutes for him to finally loosen up, his hips swaying with yours, his hand slowly creeping around your waist, pulling you in closer. Once you knew he was comfortable, you turned yourself around, eyes locking as he moved his hands from your hips and down, stopping on the curve of your ass. He smirks as he gives it a little squeeze, winking as you look up at him again. You reach your arms up, wrapping them around his neck, pulling his head down closer to yours, your lips just inches away from touching. Chanyeol takes a deep breath before he moves in a little closer, latching his lips to yours.

The kiss heats up instantly. His tongue slides into your mouth, his hands pulling you closer.

You move your hand to his chest, feeling his hard muscles beneath his shirt. You move your hand down, feeling the rigidness of his abs. You move your hand lower, grazing your palm over the bulge in his crotch, making him moan.

"Fuck." He whispers, panting. You feel the outline of his huge cock, you hand putting more pressure on it as you rub, making him squeeze his eyes shut tightly. He bites his bottom lip as his breathing becomes heavier.

"Shit." He growls. "Come on." He says, grabbing your hand and pulling you off the dance floor.

He pulls you through the crowd, heading towards the staircase that's glowing with lights, leading up to the empty VIP floor.

You stand with your back against the balcony, Chanyeol's hands holding onto the railing tightly.

You slowly get onto your knees, bringing your hands up to undo his button before pulling down his zipper. You can hear him gasp as you pull down his pants just enough that his cock springs free. You lick your lips at the sight of his cock. It's thick, his precum drips from his red and swollen tip.

Wrapping your hand around his shaft, his body jolts slightly. You look up at him as you slowly pump his cock. He looks away from the crowd that's paying no attention and looks down at you. You maintain eye contact as you open your mouth, closing it around his tip and use your tongue to lick off his cum. His hands grip the railing tighter as his knees weaken just a little.

"Fuck." He groans, closing his eyes. You remain teasing his tip, wondering how long it will take for him to finally take action and take what he wanted.

Chanyeol moves one hand off the railing and down onto the back of your head. He pushes your head forward, making his cock slide further into your mouth.

"That's it. Take my cock." He spits, thrusting his cock into your mouth and down your throat. "Good slut."

Chanyeol thrusts a few more times before he takes his cock out of your mouth, and makes you stand up, precum and spit dripping from your mouth. He smirks at the sight of you, your eyes slightly watery with mascara trickling down your cheeks.

"Open." He demands. You open your mouth, watching him as he sticks two fingers in your mouth.

You close your mouth around his fingers, sucking them hard.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, turns you around,lifts your skirt up and moves your panties to the side. He takes his two fingers pushing them inside of you, making you moan.

"Shit." You cry, your body shuddering.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times before taking them out and jerking his cock with your juices. You remain bent over, your hands holding the railing as people below you continue to drink and party.

He lines his cock up with your pussy, pushing himself into you. You clench your mouth together as your pussy stretches out to fit his huge cock.

"Fuck." He grits, his hands holding onto your shoulders and he starts slowly thrusting. You can feel your pussy juices seeping from inside you every time he pulls himself out just enough, before slamming back into you.

"Harder." You moan, needing him to destroy your pussy.

"You want me to fuck you harder?" He asks, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"Fuck yes." You cry.

Chanyeol moves his hand from your shoulder wrapping his arm around your neck, pulling you into his chest.

"You'll get what you ask for." He grunts, squeezing his arm around your neck tightly as he slams his cock into you. His thrusts are fast and hard, your eyes roll back further into your head with each one.

"Oh.. my.. god." You stutter, his arm squeezing tighter. His other hand reaches down between your legs, using two fingers to rub your clit harshly.

"Shit. Fuck I'm going to cum." You cry out. His fingers rubbed quicker, making your orgasm hit within seconds, your body shook as you worked through your high, Chanyeol still pounding your pussy.

He moves his hands to your hips, thrusting hard.

"That's right. Good girl." He breathes into your ear. "I'm gonna cum in your pussy." He whispers.

"Yes, please, please cum in my pussy." You cry. "Fill me up."

Chanyeol grunts as his own orgasm hits, his legs shake as he shoots his load inside you. "Fuck." He groans, his cock throbbing.

"That was.. holy shit." He breathes, pulling up his pants. "Thank you." He smiles.

You smile back, moving your panties back to the right spot, keeping his cum inside you.

"Another balcony." You laugh. "Did you guys plan this?" Chanyeol laughs along with you, as the two of you make your way to the exit of the club.

Once outside, he gets you a cab, giving you a small kiss goodnight before thanking you again.

"My pleasure." You wink. Chanyeol shuts the door, walking off as you pull out your phone and dial Baekhyun's number.

"How was it?" He answers.

"None of your business." You laugh. "Mission accomplished. I'm free next Wednesday, who's next?" You ask.

"Mhmm." Baekhyun pauses. You can hear the laugh through the phone.

"Definitely Junmyeon."

#exowritersnet #park chanyeol #chanyeol smut #exo chanyeol #pcy #exo smut #exo fanfic #exo scenarios #exo fanfiction #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop icons #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop idols

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teddy06writes · 4 years ago

Text

Do You Permit it?

{*wakes up in cold sweat* Failed L’manburg revolution Les Mis/Les Amis au}

Wilbur Soot x reader

Trigger warnings: yelling, swearing, character death, mentions of alcoholism

Premise: Wilbur, the marble lover of liberty wants nothing more than to gain freedom from the Dream SMP, You, the lowly drunk cynic want nothing more than to be by Wilbur’s side. When Wilbur becomes insistent that the only way to gain freedom is to barricade the few revolutionaries into the walls of what would one day hopefully become L’manburg you see all the flaws in the plan, but unwilling to leave your friends, nor you love that was never meant to be you stick with the foolhardy men, resigning yourself to your fate

{aka I wanted to make les mis content and this was the only way I could think of. also Wilbur = Enjolras but brunet and his revolution didn’t fail}

{Also Tommy/Tubbo as Gavroches but I can’t fully figure out this au, someone help}

{I had to dig out my copy of the brick for this one boys}

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“We will stand our ground! Fight for the freedom we deserve!” Wilbur yelled.

The men spread around the backroom of Niki’s café cheered in agreement, causing you to sigh, and tip down a portion of your drink, “You do realize Dream will never let you be free right?”

Wilbur glared at you, “(y/n) if we can fight, and we can prove to him that we deserve our freedom then we can have it.”

“Well sure, if you can fight,” You chuckled looking around the room at the men gathered, “I’ve never seen Jack Manifold pick up a musket. Fundy’s never had the chance to learn to shoot more than birds out in the forest. Tubbo shouldn’t be throwing his life away for something as foolish as this. Tommy just- Tommy just shouldn’t be given a weapon- period.”

“They know how to fight well enough,” Wilbur spat, venom lining his voice, “If your not going to be a part of this cause then I suggest you leave.”

You glanced around the back room again, “Well this is a free public space innit? I shouldn’t think I could be kicked out of a public place.”

Wilbur's glare was burning, yet you reveled in the heat, watching as he crossed his arms, “(y/n) if you don’t believe in this cause why do you bother to come here night after night? Do you find satisfaction in poking holes in our plans?”

“Perhaps I find more satisfaction in spending a night with my friends than drinking alone,” You challenged, taking another sip from your drink, “Perhaps I enjoy listening to your fantasies Apollo.”

“These are not just fantasies, (y/n)! This is our tomorrow! This is the future that we are shaping!” He yelled.

“This is your tomorrow?” You bellowed, standing up and gesturing around, “This plan of dying like a martyr? You are planning a future you will never see! You do see that this won’t work right? This revolution is doomed! Throwing your lives away for some stupid cause may not be a fantasy, but believing it will work sure as hell is!”

“You know nothing of belief,” He spat, “You believe in nothing.”

“I believe in you.” With that you plopped back down into your seat, having said your piece.

Wilbur sighed, turning back to rest of the group, beginning to give instructions to his men, making plans for the coming days, discussing how they would smuggle the weapons and munitions into the city.

Niki sat down next to you as she entered from the main part of the café, “Why do you do that? He could like you more if you didn’t always disagree with him.”

“There's no other way I can get his attention. Nothing else gets through to him.” You muttered.

“Have you ever tried agreeing with him? I know you dreamed of freedom once.”

“That was a long, long time ago.” You sighed.

As days went on Wilbur’s plans grew bigger, the day of reckoning grew closer, and your nightmares of fire and blood became more and more frequent; no matter how much you tried to warn your friends, or drink your fears away they still lurked in the shadows of your mind.

You watched as their plans continued to take form, never, no matter how much you urged, drifting from Wilbur’s plan of a barricade.

Many a night found you in the back room of Niki’s café, arguing against everything that they said.

Tonight, as you entered, the café was a flurry of activity, people running excitedly to and from the back room, some not even bothering to hide the muskets or cartage packets they were carrying.

You grabbed Tubbo’s shoulder as he started to dash past again, “Woah woah woah, what the hells going on here?”

“Wilbur says that this is it! Tomorrow it begins!” He said excitedly.

“Tubbo! Quit standing around we’ve got work to do!” Tommy yelled thundering out of the back room.

Tubbo smiled at you apologetically, “Well, I’ve got to go!”

As the two boys ran off you quickly made to move into the back room, immediately coming face to face with Wilbur, who grinned wildly, “Come to join the festivities (y/n)? I’d’ve thought you’d be off away from here by now.”

“Its happening then.” You murmured, slightly shocked.

“Of course it’s happening,” Wilbur spat back, “You come here to try and shut us down again? You gonna try and sabotage our victory?”

You sighed, starting to turn to leave, “Only a fool celebrates before the war is won Apollo.”

“Are you suggesting I am a fool (y/n)?”

You glanced back at him, looking around at the confident men and women around the café, at the people who were surely preparing to march to there deaths, “Never, but maybe, my Apollo, just this once.”

You had spent the rest of that night wandering around outside, skirting around Wilbur’s men, and moving through the gap in the walls where Wilbur would build a barricade come dawn, all with a bottle in hand.

Just before dawn came you returned to your lodgings, gazing around at the mess just long enough to make up your mind.

Somehow you found yourself going to your wardrobe, reaching far into the back, to where Niki and Eret had convinced you to stash your old flint locked pistol once you had figured to keep it, pulling it out and tucking it into your waist band.

Soon you were back on your way, cartages knocking together in your pockets as you strode down the streets, absorbing the all too calm energy of the city, a storm clearly brewing.

The time until Wilbur’s plan was to begin seemed to stretched on forever, and yet all the same you soon enough found yourself in a hive of activity, Fundy shouting at people to throw down their furniture, Tommy and Tubbo helping Eret, Niki and the others drag said furniture to form a barricade across the gap in the wall, Wilbur shouting orders and directing everything from the center of the storm.

Distantly you could hear Sapnap’s yelling, slowly retreating as the barricade rose higher and higher.

People began to cheer as it was finished, and Wilbur hoisted the L’manburg flag up to sit atop the structure.

“I need someone to go find out there plans!” He yelled, climbing back down, “Someone they wouldn’t except to be with us!”

“I’ll go!” Eret offered, “George trusts me.”

Wilbur nodded, “Good man, get going, and come back quickly, this is imperative to our success.”

Eret tucked their carbine into his jacket, nodding to Niki before heading off.

“(y/n).” Wilbur said, finally having seen your presence.

“Apollo.” You nodded.

“What are you doing here?”

You gestured around, at the Barricade, and the barrels of gunpowder being rolled out of the stores, “I am here to help.”

“Help?” Wilbur questioned.

“Something like that.” You nodded.

Wilbur's stare cut into you, “Are you good for anything?”

You leaned back against the wall of the café, “I have a vague ambition that direction.”

“What could you even do to help? You’ve hardly done anything in your life.”

You scoffed, “I wasn’t always a drunk. Used to have lofty aspirations and the like.”

“Be serious.” Wilbur demanded.

“I am wild.” You argued.

~~ The day wore on, and the barricade held some semblance of peace, even as Eret returned, quietly announcing herself to Wilbur.

“What have you learned?” He asked.

“They aren’t moving forward with any attacks tonight,” Eret reported, glancing around the barricade, “Dream has the badlands on his side, but they’re holding off until tomorrow, getting ready to attack from the right.”

Wilbur sighed, looking to his men and then back at Eret, “We will take the hits as they come. We can win this.”

Off to the side you watched as Niki bit her lip, standing up abruptly, “He’s lying!”

Eret opened his mouth, both in shock and to object, when Wilbur held up a hand to cut them off, “Niki?”

She took a shaky breath, “Eret has been spying for the enemy. Feeding them information.”

“That's not true!” Eret yelled.

“I’m sorry,” Niki took a shaky breath, “Check their pockets, Dream probably gave them extra cartages, or a better carbine.”

Wilbur turned to Eret expectantly.

Slowly, relucantly, Eret began to pull extra cartages from their pockets, letting them fall to the ground as Fundy and Tommy quickly grabbed his arms, pinning them behind her back.

Wilbur stared at them, disappointment in his voice as he said, “Put them in the café. We can deal with them later.”

Almost on que the sound of boots slapping the earth grew closer, and you quietly began to load your pistol as Dreams voice echoed up the barricade, “What the hell is this?”

Wilbur carefully scaled a part of the barricade , just enough to peak over the top, “L’manburg revolution!”

Dream audibly groaned, then turned to his men, “Open fire!”

Almost immediately all hell broke loose, and shots were exchanged over the top of the barricade as you rushed forward to drag Tubbo back, hissing, “Stay down.”

He frowned, but stayed put as you hurried back forward to rejoin the fighting, shoving George, who’d been attempting to climb the barricade, back down to the ground.

“Get back!” You heard Wilbur yell distantly, “Get back or I blow the barricade!”

Whipping your head around you found that the marble man had grabbed one of the smaller legs of gunpowder, and was now slowly lowering a torch toward the barrel.

“Wilbur no!” Tommy yelled, already trying to get to him to wrestle the torch away.

“And yourself with it?” Dream challenged.

Wilbur took a shaky breath, “And myself with it.”

Behind the mask, Dream wavered, slowly turning back to Sapnap, who shook his head, “Fall back!”

Tommy’s face changed as he jumped off the barricade, whooping as Wilbur laughed, slowly climbing down as various people scolded or congratulated him.

“My life is not yours to gamble Wil!” Niki yelled.

Wilbur waved her away, still looking somewhat relived that his plan had even worked as he started to address everyone again, “They may be regrouping! Hold yourselves in readiness, if we’ve made it this far we can take this victory!”

Tommy was still grinning and jumping around, grabbing your shoulder, “Did you see how they turned and ran! Ha! Cowards!”

“And so the war was won.” You scoffed, still looking to Wilbur.

Tommy rolled his eyes, muttering, “Cynic.” as he went to find Tubbo.

When night began to fall, and the barricade was still standing, you found yourself sitting next to Niki on the edge of the barricade, sharing yet another bottle of wine from the café.

“Should I have ratted him out?” She asked, craning her neck to look at where Eret was slumped against the wall of the café.

“If you didn’t we might’ve died sooner.” You mumbled, taking a swig before handing the bottle back to her.

“Well- I just- I guess you’re right.” Niki tipped the bottle back, taking a long drink.

Wilbur came out of the cafe, arms loaded with bottles that he began to pass out, Tubbo following behind, passing out bread, before taking his spot next to Tommy at the base of the barricade.

“Fundy! Take the watch. They won’t attack until it’s light,” Wilbur called, offering out the last bottle, “We’ll use this time to rest.”

Jack Manifold chuckled, holding up the bottle he’d been given, “Well, lets drink!”

“Yeah!” Tommy yelled, a little too enthusiastically, “To all the women I’ve had!”

Tubbo laughed, elbowing him, “You haven’t had anyone!”

Niki chuckled, “To the life that used to be!”

“To the life that is to come!” Wilbur added.

You rolled your eyes, the liquor you’d consumed that day coursing through your veins as you stood, scoffing, “Yeah, sure, to days gone by. Could it be you fear to actually die Apollo?”

You shuffled forward, reaching out toward Wilbur, “You think that they’re gonna remember you when you fall? Is your death going to mean anything?”

His attention was back on you, and even if he seemed pissed you lived for that attention so you pushed on, grabbing onto his coat, “Is your life just one more lie?”

Wilbur seized your hands, throwing you off of him, “(Y/n) that is enough!”

You stumbled away, blindly grabbing the bottle from Niki, who simply grabbed your arm, leading you back toward the café.

“What the hell was that?” She hissed.

“This is gonna fail, I know its gonna fail. How can they not see that Niki? How can they not see that?” You rambled.

Niki pulled you past Eret and up the stairs to the storage room, “Stay up here, I’ll come get you once we’ve won.”

“Not gonna win.” You mumbled, “Hey- you got anything to drink?”

“Wine cabinet’s over there, don’t hurt yourself.”

With that she was gone leaving you to your wine and your thoughts.

It was a warm day, and you watched as Wilbur and the rest gathered around the gap in L’manburgs wall, cheering as Tommy held his musket high.

Cheers of ‘we won’ fill the air, as your friends gathered around, cheering as the last of Dreams men fled, leaving L’manburg its freedom.

‘I guess I was wrong.’ Still, you smiled as you moved to stand next to Wilbur and the others moved away.

‘I suppose you were.’ Wilbur smiled.

You looked up at the pale blue sky, ‘it is nice to see freedom, I do have to admit.’

‘i knew you’d come around (y/n).’

Sighing you looked at him again, ‘what now, Apollo?’

Wilbur’s hand grabbed yours, ‘we dance.’

You froze, ‘d- d- dance? you want to dance- with me?’

‘why not?’ he chuckled, ‘i know you can.’

Slowly you took his other hand.

The day was warm, L’manburg was free, and you and Wilbur danced.

Distantly you heard a yell, “He’s the leader!”

‘Wil? what was that?’ you mumbled.

‘whats what?’

“Wilbur was the one who nearly killed George!”

You looked around frantically before turning back to Wilbur, whos face seemed to change, looking beyond you, “Shoot me!”

‘wha-’

Suddenly the day was cold, and not yet begun, as you bolted upright in the storage room of Niki’s café.

L’manburg was not free, and Wilbur was stood proudly, his back to the wall, barley visible beyond Dream, Sapnap and Sam, who all had the barrels of there rifles aimed at his chest.

Distantly, you felt yourself standing, “Long live L’manburg! I am one of them.”

Wilbur’s face fell to shock, “(y/n) what are you-”

The enemy still stood, frozen as you moved between there ranks, repeating, “Long live L’manburg! Take us both with one blow.”

Wilbur was still staring at you in shock as you turned to him, “Do you permit it?”

He smiled, understanding finally in his eyes, and then his hand was in yours as he turned back to face Dream, proud even in his last moments.

The day was cold and not yet begun, Wilbur’s hand was in yours, and you could not feel the bullets enter your chest.

All you could feel was his hand in yours, his smile still warming your face, until there was nothing more.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #Wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot imagines #teddy06 writes

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quazartranslates · 3 years ago

Text

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH49

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 149: Purgatory Reunion (I) {cw: misgendering}

[Player Qi Leren has completed the task Star Death Reality Show. The task completion rate is 77%.]

[A reward of the base 15 days survival days has been given. 77% of task completion rewards 31 extra survival days. Best of the Day ranking was received 3 times, earning the reward of 15 survival days. Eliminated all amphioctopuses for the reward of 30 survival days. The proportion of the audience who questioned you was 47.8%; the reward is retained.]

[Data synchronization countdown, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, synchronization complete.]

　　&&&

"Aaaaah how could they kill us!" As soon as he came back, Qi Leren heard Dr. Lu’s screams. "It's really crazy! Blowing up the four of us together to destroy the octopus! Is this something that people do?!”

Du Yue was also very depressed: "That, how can it be like this..."

Qi Leren thought that this was unexpected. Looking at the strange things done by the copy’s cast, and how many strange alien creatures existed in the universe, the future interstellar world was probably not a civilized world ruled by law. In order to avoid future problems, it had bombed the planet, destroying the humans and the threat together… If the military in the Alien movies was so decisive, the Alien series wouldn’t have been able to go on for so long.

He just didn't know how the audience felt. But as for what kind of "audience" existed in that copy, Qi Leren couldn't figure it out now. He guessed that there may be no "audience" at all, and the Best of the Day and questioning rate were just a set of data simulated by the system.

Qi Leren took a look at his survival time. He had had 147 days at the start of the copy, and his survival time would not pass while the task was in progress. However, because he had used that bug-like card [Sophisticated Lawyer], he’d consumed 130 days of survival time all at once, and only 17 days remained at the end of the task.

This task had rewarded a total of 91 days, so now he has a total of 108 survival days, which sounded good, but... Qi Leren looks at his missing left hand. He would have to pay at least one hundred survival days to make it grow back—he had come back to life, why couldn't his missing hand grow back as well?

Qi Leren has many speculations about how he had been resurrected from a pile of meatloaf. He vaguely felt that he was different from before. He could feel a huge energy, but he didn't know how to push open the heavy door that blocked him from it.

Dr. Lu wanted to take Qi Leren to find the player who could regrow limbs. Qi Leren refused: "I’m in a hurry now, I’ll come back to you later when I’m free."

Saying goodbye to Dr. Lu and Du Yue, Qi Leren rushed to Chen Baiqi.

When Chen Baiqi saw Qi Leren, she was really surprised: "What happened to your left hand?"

"It's a long story, listen to me first! Is it safe here?"

"...Come with me."

In the basement that usually acted as their training ground, Qi Leren spoke quickly about what had happened in the task, and also told Chen Baiqi about the laptop.

Chen Baiqi listened to him quietly until she heard the news of Ning Zhou's death.

"So I have to go to the Underground Ant City’s Purgatory as soon as possible, and I don't have much time left," Qi Leren worried.

"Yes, but I'm afraid it's dangerous for you to go alone. You’ve broken your shell now, and you’ve already sensed your original force. Although a half-field hasn’t yet been completed, you’ve been much faster than I expected... We’re not ready, tsk, it’s troublesome, and you survived falling into a mess of meat. I’ll go to see the Prophet later and ask his opinion." Chen Baiqi's slender eyebrows furrowed. It was rare for her to have an uncertain expression. "Forget it, I can’t help with anything right now. When you bring Ning Zhou back, we'll think it over again. Wait a minute and hold your horses, and I'll ask if anyone at the Court will go to the Underground Ant City. If so, they can take you there."

The next few hours were as busy as a fight. Qi Leren took the time to recover his left hand. Dr. Lu volunteered to help him pay all the medical expenses. Qi Leren was very moved and then refused him: "Forget it, I’ll be going somewhere dangerous soon. I may not be able to come back alive. If I owe money, I won’t be at ease when I die."

"...This is the first time I’ve seen someone curse himself so bluntly." Dr. Lu looked pained. "You have to cherish your life, isn't it good to live?"

"This is only the worst case scenario," Qi Leren said calmly. He had realized that whether he raised flags or not, his lucky value wouldn’t change from E to S, so it didn't matter.

"But treatment takes 100 survival days at once. This is still the value of friendship given to you by your cute peer... Hey, shouldn’t you have a lot of survival days from the previous Holy City task?" As soon as Dr. Lu counted the time, he felt that Qi Leren’s survival days weren’t quite right.

"I encountered some things and deducted 130 survival days... I will come back and tell you in detail next time." Qi Leren felt depressed when he thought of Su He’s face.

"Did you have it deducted because too much of the audience questioned you?" Dr. Lu said doubtfully.

"No, it's something else." Qi Leren said anxiously, "Don't talk about this right now, talk about the treatment."

"Oh, then I'll pay some of it for you first. Give it back to me when you have more time next time," Dr. Lu said generously.

"Well, I'll sell this to you." Qi Leren remembered the reward he received after killing Leviathan, and showed the item [Lucky Revolver] to Dr. Lu.

[Lucky Revolver: There are six slots in this gun’s chamber, one of which is loaded with a bullet. Shooting at one's own temple can give one minute of absolute defense within a radius of 500 meters around the locked target, but the absolute defense is invalid for this bullet. Even if you are lucky, God will only give you five minutes. If you are not afraid of death, you can continue for another minute. Locked target: not set.]

"Oh, this is good!" Dr. Lu picked up the revolver and said happily, "You can get five minutes of absolute defense in a critical moment!"

See, this is the confidence of a European emperor. When he looked at it, he felt that he would not be shot, while Qi Leren felt that he would absolutely be shot! If it had to be used, it could be paired with S/L Data, but Qi Leren was short on time now, so he chose to sell this item to Dr. Lu.

Finally, this item was given to Dr. Lu for 20 survival days. After deducting the treatment cost, Qi Leren had 28 days left, which was enough for him to go to Purgatory deep in the Underground Ant City.

After his limb regrew, Qi Leren, who was sweating profusely, rubbed his newly grown left hand and hurried to Chen Baiqi's house.

"Why is it you?!” Qi Leren saw the Illusionist drinking tea with Chen Baiqi, and he had a bad feeling in his heart. After asking, his hunch came true. The Illusionist just wanted to go to the Underground Ant City to perform his mission, and promised to take Qi Leren with him.

"Can you fly an aircraft? Do you know the way to the Underground Ant City? Do you know how to deal with demons? Do you know anything about life in the Underground Ant City? Do you know where Purgatory is in the Underground Ant City? If you don't know all this, do you dare to go to the Underground Ant City? Kid, do you think the world outside is as peaceful as the Village of Dusk?" the Illusionist mocked Qi Leren with a smile.

Qi Leren didn’t dare to refute. Although he had gained a preliminary understanding of information about the Underground Ant City when acting undercover as Red, after all, he had never been there, and his understanding of it was very superficial, so it was very dangerous to rush forward.

"Time is of the essence, you should set off tonight. Take this material and equipment, Qi Leren. You can use them on the road, and ask the Illusionist directly if you don't understand anything. Although he talks a lot of shit, he’s still reliable," Chen Baiqi said concisely. She threw a big bag of things directly to Qi Leren.

"I have no money now, after coming back..." The poor Qi Leren said sullenly and was interrupted by Chen Baiqi: "As long as you bring Ning Zhou back safely, these are all free."

"I’ll definitely bring him back!" Qi Leren said firmly. Even though he was still sitting in the cottage in the Village of Dusk, his heart had already flown over the vast wilderness and arrived at the distant Purgatory.

Chen Baiqi smiled, and uncharacteristically did not refute him: "Well, I know."

The senior single dog Illusionist’s face shifted, turning his eyes away with an unbearable expression, then turned his head to continue drinking tea with a straight face.

　　&&&

At 23 o'clock that night, the Court’s official aircraft took off. The driver was not the Illusionist, but an executive officer of the court. He gave a gift to the Illusionist and was very respectful.

The Illusionist and Qi Leren sat in the back seat of the aircraft, and both of them were very silent along the way. Qi Leren studied the information about the Underground Ant City and watched it for more than two hours at a time, until a faint headache worsened to the same pain as electricity drilling into his brain. He retched a few times and felt sick.

The Illusionist said with a look of disgust, "If you dare vomit here, I will throw you out."

"Don't worry... There’s nothing in my stomach to vomit." Qi Leren covered his throat and poured himself some water.

Qi Leren hadn't had a rest for a long time. Except for his death in the underground glacier, he hadn't slept for more than 48 hours. His body protested physically and mentally. He could still hold on under tension, but now he was sitting in the aircraft and forcing himself to watch the information intently for more than two hours. He couldn't hold on.

He also knew that he should have a rest, but the urgency of time that waited for no one spurred him on, leaving him with constant fear and uneasiness.

He was really too scared. When he closed his eyes, the figure of the black dragon sinking into the lake of flames would emerge in his mind. Just imagining the pain and fear of losing, it felt like the string of reason in his mind was broken.

But he had to rest. Qi Leren himself knew that he couldn't meet the next challenge in this state.

"I'll sleep for a while," Qi Leren whispered.

"There is a bed in the back, go and lie there," the Illusionist said without looking up, pointing behind him.

"Thank you." Qi Leren gave thanks, climbed from the seat to the back cabin, and pulled down the bed curtain that cut off light and sound. Although it was just a cot narrower than a college dormitory bed, he felt satisfied when he lied down to rest for a while.

Qi Leren, who had a splitting headache and was exhausted physically and mentally, took two pills, which were the sleeping pills he had asked Chen Baiqi for. Before they kicked in, Qi Leren took out Ning Zhou’s life crystal. It was intact, suspended in his hand safe and sound, and there was a small drop of blood in the center of the crystal, which was surrounded by the slowly rotating bright spots of gold and silver.

He just looked at it gently and quietly, letting his overflowing thoughts hover in this narrow world.

At the moment of reunion, he thought, he would have to give Ning Zhou a hard hug, hard enough to convince him that they would never separate again.

The roaring mechanical sound outside the aircraft faded away, and the exhaustion began to emerge. Qi Leren carefully returned the life crystal to his item bar and slowly fell into a deep sleep.

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