Love, love, love Such a nice excuse for so many of my crimes But it was not unconditional And certainly not disinterested I loved you like a begger loves all those good proper people With hope, resentment and envy. Once off my knees, why would I pray to you ?
Loving you. Like dying of thirst, Dry-mouthed and despaired. Once quenched I will need no more tears. It was interest. Coldhearted, methodical, interest. It was need, not love. Raw, unleashed. Like a beast too long starved Licking a man’s hand and calling him master Once fed, I will bite these soft caressing fingers I never belonged to you
The captive songbird whistles praises But uncaged it will remember the anthem of the wild Ungrateful as I am, I’ll turn my back on you I’ll leave like I arrived No regret, no remorse, All loveless desire No debt, no honour, Just hunger satisfied
sherlock pointing out a spot of leftover shaving cream on john’s face, but john keeps missing it–well you just get it then, you’re the one who can see it–sherlock’s mouth going dry when he steps close and rubs his thumb across the hinge of john’s jaw to wipe it away
The words filtered through his brain like liquid fire, he was hurting, and it burned, but.. god there were ashes, there was hope.
There had to be a reason, something so painful and difficult it made raindrop tears gather in the corner of Betty Coopers haunted green eyes.
“I love you, I don’t think I can stop.”
She loved him, she had said so surrounded by his new family and his old, dirt under his boots and that flimsy white tank top that made it hard for Jughead not to run his fingers over the bare skin of her arms. She looked like something out of a dream, The Beautiful and wholesome Sandra Dee to his double edged, hard knock life Danny Zuko. She was holding something though, something so heavy he could practically see the physical weight of the burden on her shoulders.
She was pressed against the glass window of Reggie Mantles slick black camaro, teeth tearing into the soft skin of her perfectly pink lips. She wasn’t speaking and neither was he, both teens were thoroughly shook from the events that had just taken place. They were scared, and…damn it seemed like they both had reasons to be, it was about time Jughead found out Betty’s.
The car jolted to a stop, Betty snapping forward, her eyes quickly landing on Jugheads.
“What’s the matter?! What’s happening?! we can’t just stop, the police!” She was frantic, her fingers reaching for her cell phone as “unknown” flashed on the screen for the third time in the past fifteen minutes.
“Call it a pit stop, you wanna answer that call Betty?” Jugheads voice was calm and level, every nerve of his body was vibrating but he was calm on the outside. They were going to talk about this and they were going to talk about it now.
The ringing came to an abrupt stop and Betty dropped the phone to the space between the seats
“No.” She whispered “No I’m not.” Her eyes catching his, if he wanted to talk about it She was ready, he could tell from the flicker in her eyes.
“You said..” Jughead cleared his throat, mouth dry with anxiety “you said that I wouldn’t understand, that you were trying to protect me? Betty who are you protecting me from?”
The beautiful blonde in the seat beside him took an audibly shaky breath, her fingers twisting together as she stared down at her hands before she began
“I’ve been getting… calls. I’ve been getting calls from the black hood, a lot of calls.” She whispered, the words sounding almost robotic as she repeated what she had told Veronica “you remember the letter? How he said he’s doing this all for me? Well, he meant it, when I talk to him, when I listen to him, he doesn’t hurt anyone, he doesn’t kill. I’m stopping him, but only if I listen. He…” Betty released her fingers placing a hesitant hand on Jugheads arm, not surprised to see the anger in his eyes. “He said he would hurt you unless I cut everything off. He won’t leave me alone. He… he’s obsessed with me.”
It was a silent for a moment, processing time, no time to think, just absorb, take it in.
But only for a second.
His lips were on hers, his fingers threading through her ponytail as he knocked the tiny red bandana from her hair. He was whispering something against her lips, it sounded like a prayer as he pushed his forehead against hers.
“I love you.” He whispered “I’m sorry.”
Betty’s hands came up to cup his cheeks
“I love you, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I sent Archie, I couldn’t face you. I knew… I knew you would be able to tell, I knew that you would know I was lying. You know me Jughead, better than anyone else.”
The young Serpents face contorted into something of pure anguish
“I don’t though, I gave up on you. I stopped believing in you, in us. Betty I have to tell you something.” His voice cracked, a broken sound that ripped right through Betty’s heart, a worried frown marring her perfect features.
“It’s okay.” She whispered, fingers stroking his cheeks “it’s okay, you can tell me.”
He couldn’t look at her, not after this, not after everything seemed to be falling into place for the moment and he was about to destroy whatever peace they had made.
“Me and Toni… we kissed, we kissed more than once.” The words fell from his lips, his eyes searching hers desperately for something, anything.
Slowly but agonizingly painful her fingers slipped from his face, her body pushing closer to the Camaros door.
“I saw you.” She whispered a far away look in her eyes “at Pops, with her, just the day after. You were happy, she makes you happy.”
“No!” Jughead came close to wailing “no, it’s not like that. She’s my friend, she knows I could never be over you. Betty I love you. It was a heat of the moment thing. I thought you were gone. You make me happy, I love you Betty Cooper.” He dropped his forward to hers, tears falling to his cheeks and onto the leather of his jacket. He pulled her closer, the emergency brake digging into her thigh.
After a few moment of painful silence that seemed to go on for hours, Betty spoke
“We have things we need to work on. We have things we still need to talk about, work through, but… I’m here and so are you and I think… I know we can get through this… together.” Her eyes finally found his, sadness still there but something new, something familiar.
She was Tired. Tired of fighting it, tired of being away from him. Just tired, and so was he and there was still a war going on, still things being thrown at them from every direction but…
A/N: So I’m finally getting through my asks! This one was a request for an insecure reader and an over zealous flirty Bucky. I love writing him like this! So I got carried away and suddenly this was almost five thousand words so I’m going to have to split it into a two parter! Ugh, charming Bucky. You do things to my heart
Word Count: 4k+
Warnings: A disgusting amount of pining, sailor like cursing, maybe triggering self doubt and insecurity, pretty SFW…for now.
Summary: You’d supported Steve and his decision to not kill Bucky. Fuck, you even supported Steve when he’d literally started a war over Bucky. Done jail time for him. But you what you couldn’t manage to do for the life of you, for the love of Steve, was get along with Bucky. Especially when he managed to make you blush every time you were in the same room as the man
Request: anyway i would like to request bts/exo/got7 (whoever you want really; i love them all) reacting to another member not liking, not getting along m, or hating their s/o.
thank you for requesting this, i did this reaction with BTS but if you want me to do it with a different group, let me know! 💕
warning: some strong language
The two of you thought you were alone in the dorm, which was why you had turned the TV on at full volume, and laughed loudly at every single funny thing that happened in the comedic movie that you guys were watching.
Suddenly, the fun was interrupted when the door of Jin’s bedroom was thrown open. Both of you turned to look at Namjoon – who had just burst into the room – with startled expressions.
“It’s loud,” Namjoon cut Jin off, a frustrated expression on his face. “You’re loud. Some people are trying to work here.”
“Sorry, we didn’t realize anyone else was here,” you added awkwardly.
Namjoon glared at you. “How would you? You don’t even live here.”
He only told the truth, you tried to tell yourself to avoid feeling hurt by these words. It wasn’t as important what he said, but the way he said it. He looked really annoyed with you and his eyes told you that he’d rather you weren’t here.
“Namjoon,” Jin said, suddenly getting up from the bed. “Can I talk to you outside for a moment?”
“I have to get back to work,” Namjoon turned him down and began to close the door.
“It will only take a moment,” Jin repeated in a stern voice and Namjoon sighed deeply before walking into the hallway to wait for Jin.
“What’s the matter with you?” Jin accused Namjoon, once he closed the door. “Why do you always turn into such a dick whenever Y/n’s over?”
Namjoon debated what to say for a moment and then sighed. “I don’t like her, man.”
Jin hadn’t expected him to say that which is why it took him a moment to regain his balance.
“W-why?” Jin asked.
“I don’t know,” Namjoon shrugged his shoulders, looking down. “Maybe it makes no sense, but she’s just… I don’t know. You’re always with her. Literally, always. You’re late to rehearsals and you’re constantly stuck in your dream world. It’s like… It’s like we lost you.”
“I’m in love, Joon,” Jin said, sighing sadly. “I’m sorry for being late, but I’m not sorry for anything else.”
Namjoon just nodded and swallowed, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.
“You haven’t lost me,” Jin continued then. “Maybe I’ve just been a little preoccupied with my relationship but I’m still here. I’m still the same person. And, honestly, it hurts me to see you dislike the girl that I’m in love with. Give her a chance, Joon. Please.”
“I’ll try,” Namjoon said. “I’m happy for you, Jin. I am, even if it doesn’t seem that way. Just… try to find a way to make your relationship and job work, okay? And apologize to Y/n for me.”
Jin nodded his head and the two boys watched each other for a moment before laughing uncomfortably and sharing a quick hug to let each other know that there were no hard feelings between them.
Yoongi was exiting his studio, on his way to his bedroom to prepare for your date, when he heard a voice outside of Jin’s room and stopped short.
“He’s not coming,” Jin was talking to someone on the phone. “Ever since he met Y/n, he hasn’t bothered to hang out with us. I’m not going to even ask him.”
Yoongi’s heart started to race when he heard your name slip from Jin’s lips. He listened more intently but he couldn’t hear what the other person on the phone was saying.
“No, I’m pretty sure she tells him not to go,” Jin said, then. “I mean, Yoongi was never a big fan of parties but if we asked him nicely, he would go. But then he started dating—”
Not wanting to hear him say your name again, Yoongi stepped into the room, surprising Jin and forcing him to drop his phone in panic.
“Knocking seems to be a thing that exists!” Jin exclaimed, clutching his chest and breathing deeply. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“What the fuck were you talking about?” Yoongi asked.
“W-what do you mean?” Yoongi saw Jin hang up the phone and put the phone in his back pocket without getting up from the bed.
“I heard you talk about Y/n, hyung,” Yoongi said. “It’s not cool.”
“Oh,” Jin said and then stayed quiet for a moment, trying to choose his next words. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that she’s sort of stealing you away from the rest of us, isn’t she?”
“She’s not stealing me away from anyone,” Yoongi replied angrily. “I’m the one who makes the choice to spend as much time with her as I can because, believe it or not, I love her. And I’ve never had anything like that before.”
“Look, I understand but—”
“No, Jin,” Yoongi stopped him, shaking his head. “If there’s a ‘but,’ then you don’t understand. And honestly, I can’t believe you would voluntarily talk shit about someone that means so much to me.”
“I’m not talking shit,” Jin defended himself. “And for the record, you haven’t even introduced her to us.”
“Well, maybe the reason why I haven’t introduced her to you is because you’re already behaving like a dick,” Yoongi said. “It’s already hard for her to be with me, she doesn’t need my friends hating her, too.”
Jin sighed, finally understanding that fighting with Yoongi about this was pointless. He was never going to win.
“I’m sorry,” Jin said, finally. “I’ll be nice. All of us will be. Bring her around sometime.”
Fighting the urge to yell a little more, Yoongi swallowed. “I’ll think about it.”
Hoseok was really excited when he told the rest of the members that you were coming to visit him since he was on tour and hasn’t seen you in a month now. All the other members cheered and congratulated him. All, except for Taehyung, who continued to sit on the couch at the other end of the room.
“Taehyung,” Hoseok called out. “Is something wrong?”
Taehyung raised his head from the phone in his hands and shrugged his shoulders.
“Okay, hold on,” Hoseok told the five guys around him and headed towards Taehyung, sitting down next to him once he reached him. “Seriously, what’s the matter?”
Taehyung took a deep breath and locked his phone before turning to look at Hoseok.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Taehyung started. “But I don’t think Y/n is the girl for you.”
Hoseok’s mouth had suddenly gone dry. “Sorry, what?”
“I know you like her and that’s great, hyung,” Taehyung said. “But, really, there’s so many fish in the sea. I could introduce you to—”
“Wait, Taehyung,” Hoseok placed a hand on Taehyung’s face, covering his mouth to prevent him from saying anything else. “What are you trying to tell me? That I shouldn’t be with Y/n?”
“Well…” Taehyung shrugged his shoulders. “She’s just so… weird. And she’s not your type at all.”
“I don’t have a type,” Hoseok said. “And if I did, I’m sure I’d just describe Y/n.”
“You say that now, but, seriously, hyung, she’s just a girl—”
“She’s not just a girl!” Hoseok jumped up from the couch, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. “She’s the love of my life.”
Taehyung wasn’t expecting this. Not even Hoseok himself expected to say that.
Intense silence was the only thing left in the room as Hoseok tried to get himself together. Once he felt like he did, he turned to look at Taehyung with a soft expression.
“I love her,” he told him. “And I’m sorry if you can’t accept that. But I would love it if you at least tried. I’m really not looking for anyone else, Taehyung. I’m happy with her.”
“Maybe try to get to know Y/n better,” he addressed Taehyung one more time. “I’m sure you’d really like her if you tried.”
Namjoon always claimed that you brought out the best in him and all of the guys seemed to love you for it. They immediately accepted you as one of their own, and whenever the seven of them hung out together, they would invite you, too.
You were more than happy to hang out with them, of course. The only downside was Yoongi.
At first, you thought he looked annoyed all of the time, but then you found out that this was not the case. He was actually a really fun guy. And yet, whenever you were over at the dorm, Yoongi was always looking frustrated. You tried to start up a conversation with him, but he just cut you off shortly, basically letting you know that you shouldn’t even try.
You hated that. You saw how happy it made Namjoon to know that you got along with his friends and you didn’t want him to suddenly be upset because Yoongi seemed to have a problem with you. Which is why you decided to take matters into your own hands.
“Can I talk to you, Yoongi?” you asked him one night, when the eight of you were hanging out in the dorm.
“We’re talking,” Yoongi replied subtly enough, so no one else would notice his immediate change in demeanor.
“No, I mean, alone,” you said. “I just have something I want to tell you.”
Namjoon perked up at this. “Keeping secrets from me, baby?”
You saw Yoongi roll his eyes at the nickname and you frowned for a moment, but then turned to face your boyfriend with a soft smile.
“Of course not,” you told him, quickly kissing him on the cheek. “Actually, this is about you. But I’ll tell you later.”
You stood up from the couch, giving Yoongi an expecting look. He finally realized that he had no choice but to follow you or he’d end up causing a scene in front of the others and that was clearly not what he wanted. So, groaning loudly, he got up from the couch and followed you out of the room.
“Why do you hate me so much?” you asked Yoongi right away, as soon as he closed the door, separating you from the rest of the guys.
“What?” Yoongi blinked. “Where did you get that from?”
“Come on, it’s obvious. You always turn into a huge mess of anger and frustration around me,” you said. “And we’ve barely had any conversations. So, what is it? What have I done wrong?”
Yoongi sighed and looked back to make sure the door was still closed.
“It’s not you, Y/n,” Yoongi said. “It’s just… don’t get me wrong, but you’re always here.”
Now that was a punch in your face you weren’t expecting. “I’m not sure how I could get you wrong.”
“No, it’s not what I—” Yoongi shook his head, sighing again. “Okay, thing is, before you come over, Namjoon always gives us a long lecture – emphasis on long – about how we need to be on our best behavior once you’re around. And you’re always around! And all of a sudden, the rest of the guys just got used to you, and they can fool around and avoid Joon’s dirty looks but I can’t.”
You listened patiently, not daring to interrupt him.
“So, it’s not you that I hate,” Yoongi said. “I hate the fact that for some reason, I can’t be myself around you because Namjoon seems to think that you’ll leave him if you don’t like us.”
“That is bullshit,” you spoke finally. “First of all, I’d never leave Namjoon, I love him with all of my heart. Second of all, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Please don’t feel obligated to hold yourself back from whatever you want to do when I’m around. You can be yourself around me.”
“So Namjoon can lock me out of the dorm later? No thanks.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” you said with some hesitation. “I’ll talk to him about this, okay? I really don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”
Slowly, Yoongi nodded.
You nodded back. “I’m glad we talked about this.”
“Me too,” Yoongi agreed. “And I’m sorry I gave you the impression that I hated you.”
Jimin jumped around the back of the stage, telling everyone who listened that his girlfriend was in the audience tonight and he was ecstatic. This wasn’t the first time you would see him perform, but this was the first time you came to their actual concert.
However, thirty minutes until showtime, Jimin’s excitement died down.
“Oh God,” he said loudly. “What if I forget my moves? What if I get so distracted that I forget I’m even on stage? Or worse! What if I forget the lyrics?”
“Whoa,” Hoseok interrupted his self-doubt. “Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know,” Jimin admitted. “I just know that Y/n’s here and I want to perform really well, so she would be impressed. But I’m so nervous that I feel like I’ll screw up.”
“Come on, Jimin, you’re always nervous,” Hoseok said with an encouraging smile. “You’ll be great!”
“No, but I’m freaking out,” Jimin continued. “Seriously, what if—”
“Jimin, is this because Y/n’s here?” Hoseok said, suddenly serious. “Because you tend to lose the grip on yourself whenever she’s in the audience. So, maybe – and this is just a suggestion – you shouldn’t bring her to your shows.”
“Shouldn’t bring her to my—what?” Jimin stopped fidgeting and looked at Hoseok with confusion. “But I want her to see me perform.”
“Do you, really?” Hoseok asked. “Because it sounds to me like you just need validation. And you’re making it seem that if you screw up on stage, she’ll dump you. So, I’m just saying that maybe, if you feel this terrified of her seeing you do something wrong, she’s not the one for you.”
Jimin was completely taken aback by his words. “Are you serious, hyung? I just needed you to tell me that everything would be okay, not give me relationship advice.”
“How many times have I told you that everything was going to be okay?” Hoseok countered. “I’m losing patience here. So, I’m sorry, but I’m just telling the truth.”
Hoseok had turned around to walk away, but Jimin grabbed his arm, stopping him.
“Do you… not like Y/n, or something?” he asked carefully.
Hoseok bit his lip, looking for the right way to say this. “When she makes you this nervous – no. Not particularly.”
“But it’s not her that’s making me nervous,” Jimin said. “It’s me.”
“Yeah. And you’re nervous because of her. So, technically…”
Jimin just watched Hoseok for a minute.
“I don’t like this conversation,” Jimin said finally. “I don’t like hearing you say that you don’t like my girlfriend.”
“Okay,” Hoseok shrugged. “I’m going to go find the—”
“No, wait,” Jimin stopped him again. “If I promise to get a grip on myself whenever Y/n’s in the audience, do you promise to never ever use the words ‘hate’ and ‘Y/n’ in the same sentence again?”
“I don’t hate her, Jimin,” Hoseok said with a sigh. “I just don’t like that she turns you into a nervous wreck before every show.”
“It’s not her fault!” Jimin said a little louder than he intended to and a few make-up artists turned their heads to look at them. “It’s my fault I’m nervous. She’s not doing anything wrong. So, dislike me, if you have to. Not her.”
“No, hyung,” Jimin cut him off. “Y/n’s incredible. I love her. There’s no reason for anyone to hate her and I won’t accept it if people do that.”
Hoseok, understanding that this was a lost cause, and Jimin wasn’t even hearing him, just nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Jimin repeated. “I’m going to go to freak out to Jungkook now.”
You always found Jungkook intimidating and you’ve told this to Taehyung multiple times. And every time, Taehyung would say that it’s nonsense and that it’s just your imagination because maybe Jungkook just wasn’t used to you yet.
But it’s been a year and Jungkook still left the room when you entered it. Every time he did that, you shot Taehyung a helpless look but he would just shrug his shoulders and smile, making you forget your worries momentarily.
Taehyung always did everything he could to make you feel welcome around the dorm, and the other guys seemed to like you, too. And yet Jungkook’s indifference still made the atmosphere glum for you.
“If this upsets you so much, I’ll talk to him,” Taehyung said one day after he noticed your face fall once Jungkook left the room again. “But really, you have no reason to feel uncomfortable here.”
You nodded but didn’t say anything. Taehyung placed a quick kiss on your temple and got up to find where Jungkook had gone to.
“Jungkook!” he called out in the hallway.
“Yeah?” a voice replied somewhere at the end of the hall and Taehyung headed over there to find Jungkook sitting on the counter in the kitchen.
“What are you doing here?” Taehyung asked him.
A little confused, Jungkook shrugged his shoulders. “Sitting.”
“Why’d you leave the living room?” Taehyung said. “We were about to watch a movie. Y/n said—”
An involuntary groan slipped past Jungkook’s lips and Taehyung stopped talking instantly.
“What… the hell was that?” Taehyung asked. “Do you not like Y/n?”
Jungkook stayed quiet but Taehyung wasn’t going to leave him alone.
“Do you seriously not like her?” he asked again. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“You never shut up about her,” Jungkook said so quietly that Taehyung almost didn’t hear him. “Whenever we do something, it’s always like Y/n this, Y/n that.”
Taehyung hadn’t realized that he talked about you that much. “Okay. So, tell me to stop talking about her.”
“I did,” Jungkook said, finally raising his eyes to meet Taehyung’s. “You stopped for, like, five minutes and started again. Do you realize that our team lost nearly every match on Overwatch because you—”
“Please don’t make this about Overwatch,” Taehyung stopped him. “I’m sorry if I annoyed you by talking about her all of the time. But you’re seriously upsetting her by leaving the room every time she comes over.”
“Am I not allowed to hang out elsewhere?” Jungkook said nonchalantly. “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s yours. I’m under no obligation to always be around whenever she is.”
This hurt Taehyung for some reason and he needed a moment to recover.
“You’re my best friend,” he told him, then. “And she’s my girlfriend. She gets along with the rest of the guys perfectly but you’re being difficult.”
“I’m not being anything,” Jungkook countered. “And I don’t remember there being a rule that best friends had to get along really well with the other girlfriends.”
“There’s no rule but it would make me happy.”
Jungkook groaned again, forcing Taehyung to sigh.
“Okay. Don’t be friends with Y/n,” he told Jungkook then. “But, please, at least don’t dramatically refuse to be in the same room with her. It’s not cool.”
“And… you would definitely like her if you got to know her,” Taehyung added with a playful smirk. “She’s really good at Overwatch.”
Jungkook squinted at Taehyung. “You’re just saying that to make me like her.”
“No,” Taehyung shook his head. “I’m saying that as a warning.”
“How is that a warning?”
“When you find out how good she is, you’ll want to date her, too,” Taehyung said. “But back off. She’s mine.”
The boys had a thirty-minute break before their next interview and they were planning to explore Tokyo for a little while before coming back. Jungkook, however, was holed up in his hotel room.
“I’m good,” Jungkook told Jimin who came to ask him to come with the rest of them. “I’m going to skype-chat with Y/n.”
“You skype-chatted her this morning,” Jimin said matter-of-factly. “Does she not have anything better to do but talk to you?”
“She’s free from school today,” Jungkook answered, not raising his head from his phone. “It happens rarely and I’m using this as an opportunity to talk to her.”
“Jungkook, you’re already texting her,” Jimin said, pointing at his phone. “And you can text her while you’re outside, too.”
“Yeah, but I want to see her. And it’s only possible on Skype.”
“But we want to see you, too!” Jimin said, raising his voice and making Jungkook finally look up at him. “Seriously, ever since you started dating her, we haven’t even heard anything from you. The only time we see you is during rehearsals and on stage when we’re performing.”
“And that proves that you see me for the majority of time every day,” Jungkook replied. “So, I don’t get the problem.”
“The problem is that she has you wrapped around her finger and you don’t even see it,” Jimin snapped. “You’re adjusting your schedule to fit hers. You’re taking extra flights to see her and then show up to rehearsals jetlagged and exhausted. It’s not good for your health. Does she care about that? No, it doesn’t look like she does, she just—”
“Stop right there, Jimin,” Jungkook said, locking his phone and putting it away to concentrate on this conversation. “I don’t remember you being part of my relationship. And I sure as hell don’t remember you talking to Y/n and asking her what she cared about.”
“Okay, no need to get all pissed off,” Jimin said, suddenly a little intimidated by Jungkook’s angry and protective tone. “I’m just stating the obvious. You’re obviously sacrificing a lot to be with her and she’s not doing much—”
“Have you thought that maybe the reason why she’s not doing much is because she can’t?” Jungkook was shouting now. “She can’t fly out to see me, because, unlike me, she doesn’t have enough money to fly around the world whenever she wants to. And she can’t hang out with me as often as she wants because she has exams almost every day. On top of that, she gets hate for simply being my girlfriend. So, I’m sorry if you don’t like the fact that I’m trying to make this relationship easier for her.”
Jimin stayed quiet for a moment. “I didn’t think about that.”
“Of course not,” Jungkook huffed, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “I’m sorry for losing my temper. I just wish you understood how scared I am to lose her. This relationship is hard work, for Y/n especially, and it’s even harder when I’m away. But I would never even think about ending it. I love her too much.”
Jimin nodded, no longer having any other comments to add.
“Okay,” he said. “I see. I’m sorry I said those things. Tell Y/n I said hi.”
“GO GO GRYFFINDOR! GO GO
GRYFFINDOR!” The crowd around Lily screamed and chanted.
Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and even a few Ravenclaws cheered
for the team, completely drowning out any noise coming from the opposing side.
Though, Lily wasn’t necessarily watching the same game as her peers. Her
eyes weren’t following the quaffle or the seeker and their snitch, her eyes
were on a single chaser.
As much as she loved her house, James seemed to be the only
reason she came to these games anymore. She wasn’t even planning on coming to
the game at all really, it was her friends who’d convinced her to roll out of
bed early that morning.
“James would want you there,” Marlene sang as she painted gold
and red hearts onto her cheeks, “and its for the good of the team if you
do come, Lily, could throw off his game not seeing you in the stands.”
Lily was glad she was finally convinced to get dressed, she now
stood happily admiring James. Though he looked good in the heat of playing, Lily
mostly watched for how happy he was being in the game. Nothing could ever make
James Potter smile as much as being on his broom scoring points for his team.
She let herself smile after he high-fived Sirius, congratulating his friend for
knocking the Slytherin seeker off his course. Watching him out there was
something she could do for the rest of her life and be content, there’s nothing
else she’d rather be seeing.
“AND THAT’S GREGORY HART WITH THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR
The stands roared, cheering and clapping for the win, and Lily
let herself enjoy the moment for a second, looking around at her friends’ smiling
and laughing before she turned back to her former subject of attention. Only
this time, he was looking right back at her, and he winked when he caught her
eye. She grinned back and put up her thumbs.
“C’mon, lets go meet them down there,” Remus yelled, tapping her
shoulder to gain her attention. She nodded and looked back at the pitch one
last time, but the team had already started to walk out, James leading them
through the gates.
The noise hadn’t quieted even as everyone filed out of the
stands, everyone still chatting on about the game and how this player did that
move or how that player made this shot, no one could seem to get enough of the
game they just saw unfold. If Lily was paying more attention, she’d be able to
join in on the conversation. Though, at that moment, she could live without it.
Even as she stood with her group of friends, she found herself looking around
for the team, they usually hung around with everyone before going to get
“Oi, Sirius!” She heard Remus yell from somewhere, her eyes
followed the sound, wanting to join him in meeting up with the boys, but she
couldn’t help but stop and stare at what she’d found.
As his friends talked, James stood to the side, pulling off his
robes and padding to cool off. Lily thought he’d stop when he got it all off,
but her eyes widened when he started pulling at his sweater. Bit by bit, her
eyes followed the fabric slide up his body, exposing more and more to her. She
should’ve looked away, but at that point she didn’t really find it in her to
“My God, you’re not even trying not to stare,” Mary teased from
She ignored it, not even bothering to look away as the sweater
was completely discarded. He stood completely bare from the waist up, his
shoulders and chest free for her to ogle without shame.
“Great match, James,” the team’s keeper said, shaking James’
He smiled, so big that lines formed on his cheeks and Lily had
to bite her lip to keep her from matching it. Okay, a post-match,
shirtless, grinning James Potter, sweaty and breathing hard, was a sight that Lily had
to admit topped the image of him actually playing. It was also a sight she’d
like to see somewhere a little less public, and a little more mutual, if she
had it her way.
“You used to be better than that, Lily,” someone else
said, “and you’re spilling water all over your shoes, love.”
“What? Shit.” She finally felt it, lifting her now empty water
bottle she groaned, her foot was now soaked and she had nothing to fix her now
Her friends laughed around her, not even bothering to wait for
her as they started to walk off. Shuddering at the sound her shoes now made
when she stepped, she started to follow, but a hand at her shoulder made her
“Hey, Evans.” She shut her eyes and bit her lip at the voice.
“How was the match?” She didn’t want to turn around, from the time she looked
away to right then, James would not have time to put a shirt back on and she
could not guarantee her eyes would stay on his face if she were to look at him
“It was good, you played well,” she said, barely looking over
her shoulder at him. He’d pulled his goggles off completely, and she had to
keep herself from staring at the hair that now fell over his eyes. She wanted
to touch it.
“Well I had to, couldn’t mess up with you watching me the entire
time, now could I?”
Her jaw fell open but when she turned around he was already
walking away. However, she couldn’t really be mad, who is she to really care
that he knew? It was the reason she now got the opportunity to admire James’
bare back as walked away, and she hoped she’d get to see it later that night as
well. Gryffindor victory parties were legendary for that sort of thing after
Anonymous said:Hope this isn’t too much trouble but villain is getting taken care by a civilian? Like they shouldn’t but here they are, trying to help. Terrified but still helping cuz villain can’t get up without collapsing or getting dizzy and they could harm them in seconds// Anonymous said:Prompts where an unwitting civilian takes care of an injured villian and shows them the upmost kindness, and the villian falls in love with/ becomes obsessed with them
Anonymous said:Hey! Could I have some prompts where a civilian falls for a villian, but the villian is only using them to get to the hero? But after the villian breaks the civilians heart/ kills them/ hurts them in some way, they realize they were in love with them too? Thanks a ton! 💖💖💖
1) “Okay…easy. Easy.” It was difficult to keep their hands steady with the villain’s cold gaze piercing through them. They kept up a babble of what exactly they were doing, trying to avoid sudden movements, terror clutching at their throat. And, occasionally, “does this hurt?” The villain’s expression was eerily masklike, even as they said “yes. 8.” “You’re on a 8?” Okay, shit. How were they that composed on a 8? “Okay. Okay, I need to get you to a hospital, okay?” “No hospitals.” “You need a hospital.” “No hospitals.” A hand closed vice-like on the civilian’s wrist and they almost wanted to laugh, hysterical. “I’m only trying to save your life, you know.” “Why?” It was such a simple question, but it was as if the weight of that entire level 8 of pain, of tiredness, was behind it. Why bother?
2) “I can walk fine on my own.” “You clearly can’t! Stop being such a bloody idiot and let me help you!” Their eyes widened as they realised who they’d just snapped up, a squeak of fear leaving them at the look the super-villain speared them with. They held their ground though and didn’t move their hands. Swallowed, mouth dry. “I’m going to lift you up now.” Carrying the most dangerous being in the city - in the world, perhaps - bridal style had not been their plan for the day. Just to make it better, the next second, [Super-hero’s name] landed in front of them. “Give them here.” The super-villain flinched, pressed back against the civilian’s chest in terror. “No.” The civilian couldn’t even believe the word came out of their mouth. The super-hero blinked. “No?” “No.” The civilian thought they might pass out too. “Enough. This is enough. It’s all enough. No.”
3) “You didn’t tell me who you are.” “Would you have helped me if I did?” The villain was still weakened, but their eyes were sharp now. Lucid. Body tensed on the bed they were recovering on - coiled, ready to spring. “I haven’t hurt you. I wouldn’t.” “You lied to me.” “I can be gone by the morning.” “As the person who just spent the last two weeks looking after you, I really don’t think you can. You wouldn’t last five minutes.” The villain’s fingers flexed on the bed. “What are you going to do?”
4) “Why am I here?” The civilian’s heart raced. “Who are you? What-” they paused as their gaze landed on [villain’s name]. Except they didn’t look like [name], at least not how the civilian knew them. All of the softness was gone. “It’s alright,” the villain murmured. “You’re perfectly safe here.” In the distance, something exploded. In the distance, dozens of people screamed. Their mind raced. The urge to cry swelled up their chest, confused and overwhelmed. “I don’t understand!” “I couldn’t let you die,” the villain said. “Not after everything.”
5) “Don’t touch me.” The civilian recoiled back on the hospital bed. They slammed their hand on the call button for the nurse. The villain sighed. “I’m not here to hurt you.” “You’re the reason I’m here.” As if that was the greatest hurt here, but it was at least easier to deal with. “All because of your - your -” No, they couldn’t do this. They really couldn’t do this. “Get out.”
Summary: After finding Jack, Sam and Dean bring him to the bunker for you to watch him while they are taking care of business.
Pairing: Jack x Reader
Warnings: None, really. Spoilers for Season 13 at most.
As soon as the Bunker door opened, you looked up. Cleaning and repairing the Bunker while Sam, Dean, and Mary were out to find Castiel and Kelly before Lucifer did. You were sure that “somebody needs to take care of this mess” wasn’t the only reason they wouldn’t let you come along with them.
Dean was the first one to come into view. He looked exhausted, sad. The next person was someone you didn’t know and after him followed Sam. No Mary or Cas.
“Who’s that?” you asked, making all three men look at you, the stranger furrowed his brows.
“Y/N… oh, uh… this is… this is Jack. Lucifer’s son,” Sam explained, trying a smile but you only quirked a brow.
“Lucifer is not my father,” Jack had said, earning a sigh from Dean.
“You’re trying to tell me this grown ass man is Lucifer’s child? Shouldn’t he be a baby?” you only quirked your brow even more.
El learning the meaning of ‘love’ with Mike, requested by @cricket-hater
It was one of those quiet afternoons, when Hopper was not yet back from the station, and the cabin was bathed in dim November sunlight. Mike was scribbling in his D&D notebook, biting his pencil, deep in thought, and El was sitting next to him, curled in a ball and deeply engrossed in a soap opera that was on.
Mike knew those by heart by now. Not only El watched those a lot, but so did his mom. He would normally roll his eyes when his mom switched the TV to cheesy love confessions and dramas, but when El watched them, it was different. He liked the way her eyes widened in suprise, or when she leaned towards the TV, her curly hair falling on her face.
'But Rebecca, you can not leave with him!’ the man on she screen begged. 'I love you!’
Mike resisted the urge to groan at the theatrical character of the show. He turned the page and wrote annotation about a monster he wanted to bring out in a particular moment.
He felt El tug at his sleeve and raised his eyes.
'What is 'love’?’ she nodded shyly towards the screen. Mike felt his mouth go dry.
'I… Uh… You don’t know what love is?’
She shook her head and looked down. Sure, she heard that word multiple times on the TV. She knew it had usually something to do with hugs and lips pressed together. But dictionary definition didn’t help her much. For some reason though, she was reluctant to ask Hopper about that. And Mike always had answers. Right?
Mike looked at her, frozen on the spot, almost feeling his brain work rapidly. How does he explain 'love’ to her, of all things? But then again, he always knew how to explain things to her before. Right?
'I uh… I mean there’s nothing wrong in not knowing!’ he assured her, seeing her expression. 'I… Um…’
'I checked in the dictionary once. It said something about 'deep care and devotion’, but… ’
'It’s not really something that a dictionary can’t explain properly. It’s…’
He took a deep breath and put away his notebook. You can do it, Wheeler.
He looked at her again, turning towards her, and resisted the urge to put a stray curl behind her ear.
'Love is an emotion. A feeling. Like happiness, or sadness.’
'Okay. And, uh… There are different kinds of love. There’s love you feel for your friends. You want them to be happy, safe, healthy and all. You sometimes argue with them, but you always try to make up, and you care about them a lot.’ he looked at her, as if to make sure if she’s not lost. She nodded, processing that.
'And then, there’s love for your family. It’s really similar to the love between friends. Love between siblings is sometimes hard, like for me and Nancy, we argue a lot more than I do with the guys, but I care about her a lot, even when I’m mad at her. And the love of parents, it’s… Um… Parents are supposed to love you unconditionally, that means they never want anything in return, they just love you no matter who you are and accept you. Always.’ he remembered his father’s complete lack of genuine concern and care, and resisted the urge to sigh. 'Like Hopper loves you. ’
'He does?’ her eyes widened.
'Yeah, I’m pretty sure he does. He might not tell you that a lot, but he cares about you more than anything. Then, um… There’s that kind of love.’ he gestured towards the TV. 'Although the way it’s shown here is not really accurate. I, uh… I guess it’s called 'romantic love’. It’s mostly very similar to other kinds of love. It’s…. If you love someone you just…’
He took a deep breath and looked at her quietly for a second.
'You never want them to be away. You always want to be near them. You… You find it hard to breathe sometimes, when you look at them, because your chest is full of this… Warm feeling, it’s hard to explain. And when they are hurt, or unhappy, it pains you. You want to take away all the bad stuff in their life. And I want to always be there when you need me, or when you have nightmares again… I mean I know you are way more awesome than I am and I’m no hero, and Hoppers way more capable of protecting you anyway, even though obviously you don’t need it, because it’s you who saved us all…’
He didn’t even notice the switch in his speech. The words he kept inside for all those months full of longing and despair were just flowing out.
She, on the other hand, noticed, but didn’t dare to speak, looking into his eyes, unmoving.
'And I wish I could take away everything that haunts you, and it angers me that I can’t-’
'I love you too. ’ she said softly, her eyes never leaving his.
'And I… What?’
'I love you. ’ she repeated, feeling her lips curve into a small, shy smile.
He looked at her with his dark eyes, frozen on the spot.
'You… You do?’
She lifted her hand, her fingertips brushing his cheekbone.
'Yes. ’ she said simply, and inched closer to him, touching his nose with hers.
'That’s… That’s good. B-because, I love you too. ’ he blurted out, grinning, his face crimson.
'Good. ’ she repeated with a hint of laughter in her voice and she kissed him softly. His larger palms covered her hands that were holding his face.
'El? ’ he said quietly, his lips still close to hers.
'Remember, when I told you about the dance? Snowball? You… ’ he gulped 'You weren’t there for the one that was last year, but.. there’s another one coming up next month, and I thought… Maybe if we talked to Hopper, we could go… If you want.’ he rested his forehead on hers.
'Is it who you are supposed to go with?’ she asked, remembering what he said that fateful night in school cafeteria, resting her hands on his chest, while he held her wrists gently. 'Someone you love?’
He smiled gently and nodded, rubbing their noses together.
'Cool. ’ she whispered.
'Cool. ’ he pressed his lips against her forehead.
Hello hi! I have a prompt if you're feeling up to it? There is so much of Andrew looking after sick!Neil but can we have it reversed? I think Andrew would low-key (highkey) love the focused attention from Neil (also,,, Neil not being sure how to look after sick people and turning to advice from the other foxes as discreetly as possible bc there's no way Andrew wants them knowing he's anything less than impenetrable)
(I did my best w this prompt from one POV, sorry it took so very absurdly long! lots of Andrew thoughts with a side of useless boy dialogue)
He wakes up bleary and dry-mouthed, his tongue catching on his hard palate like papers rustling together. Andrew squints into his pillow, pressing two fingers into the eyelid of one streaming eye. The sun is too dilute to touch him, and the breeze from the cracked window chills him so much that it hurts, muscles locked and shivering.
He knew he was getting sick when the hurt that lives inside him flared real, visible and disgusting. All this hacking, running, sweating makes him vulnerable, loud when he wants to be quiet. Neil had called him overdramatic. He’d dragged the covers to his side of the bed in reply, battered sleep’s door until it splintered.
Now he feels like he always felt in the heart-racing countdown to withdrawal, fighting through sweat and aches and cracking lips, cracking skin, cracking strength. Whiskey won’t help him here though. Nothing will help him here, after rowing through the confused, freezing night and only now washing up in foggy morning, fever lapping at him.
Something drips onto his hot forehead and his chest pumps hard, startled. His eyes flash open.
Neil is frowning, looming over him and holding a cold rag that’s a bit too wet. It’s clumsy, but it feels better when Neil arranges it on his sweaty brow. His hand stays on the compress, a sustaining pressure, like he’s healing with just his hands and his willpower. Water runs into his hair like tears.
“How are you?” Neil asks. His other hand walks from the bedspread to Andrew’s side, he can feel the fingertips becoming a full-palmed press. It’s the comfort of a person who always feels better when he’s touched hard and deliberately, alive in a way he can feel.
Andrew doesn’t reply, but he knows that his closed eyes and relaxed body mean something to Neil. He trusts him with his hot forehead and his bedside.
“You look bad,” Neil continues.
“I am not playing,” Andrew says hoarsely. “If that’s what you’re angling for so tactfully.”
Neil’s hands retreat, Andrew’s forehead folds under the rag where no one will see. “I’m here because you’re my— I’m not worried about our goalie, I’m worried about you.”
“You’re here because this is your room,” Andrew corrects.
“Fine,” Neil says, voice full of the opposite. “I’m going to practice, anyway, since that’s all I care about.”
Andrew feels him leave their bed, and he finds that the wet smell of his hair was keeping his headache at bay. Another drop of water rolls down his temple, and he scrubs the compress from his face so he can watch Neil leave, but he’s already gone.
It haunts his heart, for a while, the snapped olive branch, the hurt that put its fist in its mouth and left the room so Andrew wouldn’t see it properly.
He knows, deep in him, that he’s not being any different than usual, but he also knows what Neil might have expected, seeing him spread out in their bed with his eyes wet. He’s trying to fix Andrew’s surface like he never tries to fix what’s underneath.
Neil doesn’t have the vocabulary for sickness that isn’t terminal, though. He can’t fathom something between a bandaid and a prosthetic.
He drifts, for hours, so thirsty that he can feel it in his skin, so stuffed from throat to nose that he can only breathe dry and heavy through his mouth. He can hear the wheeze inside of him.
In foster care, they would make him sleep in the garage when he got sick. They didn’t want him to infect a house full of already difficult children. He remembers watching the shadows of feet moving in the light under the door, the way the cold only made him sicker and angrier, a yoga mat between his body and the concrete.
He blinks and his eyes are crusted together. He can taste salt. He thinks of Neil and the pain in his chest changes. He latches onto the feeling, like the garage door opening in the morning, letting him back into the warmth.
can you write about the blade all just assuming lance was keith's boyfriend by the way lance keeps calling and the way they talk to each other over video message
“see you later, space cowboy,” lance says, his voice soft and delicate.
keith tries to hide his laugh behind a cough, and he purses his lips to keep himself from smiling. “i told you to stop calling me that.”
“what?” lance holds his arms up defensively. “you’re a cowboy, and we’re in space. therefore, space cowboy.”
keith rolls his eyes and lets his smile shine through, unable to hold it back any longer. “yeah yeah, whatever. i’ll see you soon.”
lance winks just before the screen flickers off and the room goes silent. keith leans back in his chair and sighs, his lips still upturned as he replays the conversation in his head.
footsteps echo down the hallway, startling keith. he shakes his head and drops his smile before he turns to greet whatever blade is coming to check on him.
kolivan enters the bridge, his stern and stoic face so unlike lance’s free and open expressions. he feels a twinge of loneliness.
“have you finished your daily correspondence with your partner?” kolivan asks, and keith has to take a minute to process this.
“my…partner?” he repeats, worried that maybe something was lost in translation.
“the red paladin,” kolivan elaborates, “is he not your romantic partner?”
keith’s eyes widen to the size of the nearest elliptical galaxy, and he feels his mouth go dry as the color drains from his face. “wh-what? no, no he’s–he’s not-??”
kolivan stares blankly as keith sputters out half-words in attempt to defend himself. “i apologize for the misconception, then. you had simply acted in a way my culture would deem romantic.”
keith feels a knot in his stomach. he thinks he’s probably gonna throw up. “i didn’t think it was that obvious.”
he puts his head in his hands as a pit of anxiety takes up residence inside him. he stays that way, overanalyzing and overthinking every single interaction he’d ever had with lance until he hears kolivan clear his throat.
keith lifts his head and sees the strangest and most out-of-place look on kolivan’s face. he looks awkward, antsy, and so, so uncomfortable. “there is no shame in being infatuated,” he says, his voice strained and broken.
keith lets out a dry chuckle, if only to ease kolivan’s worries. “thanks for the attempt. i…still have to think things through, though.”
kolivan nods, unwilling to continue the conversation. keith accepts this, since he’s not exactly keen on having an emotionless alien giving him relationship advice, either.
“i’m…gonna get ready,” keith says.
“we will leave in thirty dobashes,” kolivan responds. keith nods as he stands, then skirts around his superior to the door.
when he’s alone in the hallway again, he breathes a sigh of relief, glad to be out of that awkward situation.
What about hatefuck!harry letting y/n cry on his chest and then afterwards she's all like "if you tell anyone about this i swear to gkd i won't suck you pff for two weeks" etc but harry's feeling things and is genuinely endeared and he kind of hates it and she's kind of kicking herself for being weak around him but he really does give a great cuddle and encouraging words. Maybe he does care about her.... ;)
YEET I ADDED A FEW MORE DETAILS BUT THIS IS GONNA BE LIT I PROMISE!! if u like it, please give me feedback here!!! it rly motivates me :-)
Jeff’s house is fucking huge.
Harry swears that one day, he’s going to wander off alone and never be able to find his way out. The place is composed of four stories, each packed with different rooms and winding halls, and Harry often fears that he’ll get lost in his simple search to have a wee.
But right now, everyone who’s anyone in the music industry is milling about in the large hall at the heart of Jeff’s mansion (though the producer refuses to refer to the building as such). Harry’s not quite sure how he got roped into a conversation with Jeff’s parents, but he remains a perfect gentleman, shaking hands and kissing cheeks and chatting with little to no effort. He charms the pants off of Jeff’s mother, who’s already looking at him like he’s the one who hung the stars in the sky, and he’s not far from laying the same impression on her husband. The encounter has been a success, if you ask him.
But he can’t deny that every so often, his eyes flick past the couple as he scours the room for you. He’d seen you walk in, wearing a pretty red dress that flared out just underneath your chest and a pair of gold flats on your feet. Your hair had been twisted up into an elegant bun and pinned down with a gold butterfly clip to match your footwear. Harry’s positive that his heart nearly stopped beating once he caught sight of you.
Summary: Chanyeol isn’t your stereotype popular jock. He loves to come into the arcade, you work in, with his friends. Spending all his time having the highest score on at least half of the games. When you two are the only people left in the arcade on a Friday night, there is no telling what adventures you’d get up to that night.
You were leaning on the counter with your head in the palm of your hand. You loved working at the arcade but even more because Park Chanyeol came in all the time. He was a very well known senior. He and his group of friends were very popular even though they didn’t look like it. Chanyeol has a baby face but a deep voice that made you swoon like any other school girl. Even his smile crushed you like an ant under a boot.
He wasn’t supposed to be home. As far as Y/N was aware he wasn’t supposed to be home for the next 2 hours. So you can imagine her shock when she hears his voice coming from the doorway of their bedroom. Gasping she sits up, legs snapping shut as she brings the bed sheet up to cover herself. He’s standing there, leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face and his hands in his pockets.
“Hey don’t stop because I’m here, looked like you were in the middle of something important.”
“But I- um… this is-”
“But it’s against the rules to touch yourself when I’m not here? Is that what you’re trying to say sweetheart?”
She nods as he walks towards her, eyes wide and mouth dry. As he reaches her he takes the covers from her hands and pulls her into his lap as he sits down.
“That’s right baby, you know what happens when my girl breaks my rules?”
Looking down at where his hands are rubbing her thighs she nods, refusing to look into his eyes. Bringing one hand up to cup her jaw he tilts her head up and makes her look at him. With a questioning hum he wordlessly tells her to answer him answer him with words, causing her to reply in a small voice.
“I get punished.”
Tightening his hand on her jaw, his eyes get darker.
“You get punished what?”
“I get punished daddy.”
Loosening his grip on her jaw and bringing her head into his neck he chuckles and whispers a ‘that’s right, you get punished’ into her ear. He kisses the sensitive spot just beneath her ear and it makes her buck her hips against his thigh, whimpering at the sensation.
“Is my pretty girl trying to get off on my thigh?”
Curling into him, she hides her face in the crook of his neck and nods as she grinds onto him.
“What’s got you this worked up my love? What’s got you so desperate you couldn’t wait for me to get home hm?”
It takes her a minute but when she finally responds with a ‘you daddy’, his grip on her tightens.She tells him she thinks about him every time she masturbates, thinks about going down on him while she rubs her cunt and thinks about his tongue when she cums, told him she’d done it whilst he was at work and she watches as his eyes hardened and his jaw clenched. His hands on her waist push her down harder against him and he ever so subtly starts bouncing his leg, making her whimper against him.
“Not the good girl I thought you were are you baby love? No… You’re just my dirty little girl who gets off at the thought of me touching her. A little whore just for me, isn’t that right?”
His vulgar words are pushing her towards ecstasy hard and he can tell. Uttering a ‘just for you’ and she grips his shirt into her hands she remembers his only other rule. Don’t cum unless he lets her.
“M’so close daddy, please let me cum?”
A disappointed groan leaves her as he denies her and his hands still her hips and his leg stops bouncing against her. Pouting and eyebrows furrowed, she looks at him, her unamused face making him smile and trace his thumb over her pouted lip.
“Hey, put that lip away. You know only good girls get what they want, and you are certainly not being a good girl right now.”
Huffing, she places her lips against his, realising he hadn’t kissed her since he got home. It startles him slightly as he moves backwards unprepared. Wrapping one arm around her back and the other holding the back of her neck, he manoeuvres them around so he can lay her against the bed. Breaking their kiss he coos at how she unintentionally follows him as he pulls away from her.
“Wait there baby, won’t be a second.”
Going to their wardrobe, he pulls out the black box filled with toys designed especially for scenes like this. Walking back to where she was on the bed, he places the box next to her and takes out the silk ties that they only used when he needs her to stay still for him. Taking both her wrists in one of his hands he brings them up towards the headboard.
“Okay sweet girl, you remember your word yeah?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Yeah? You gotta tell me what it is moppet.”
With a smile and a nod he kissed her temple as he secured the restraints. That’s the thing with Harry, everything he does with her has an essence of love in it.
“Give me a tug baby. Not too tight is it?”
For just this small moment, boyfriend Harry is there making sure she’s okay, never wanting to actually hurt her. It makes her feel safe, like she’d let him do anything he wanted to her just as long as he kissed her head and called her a ‘good girl’ when he was done. With a nod of her head and a whisper of ‘s’not too tight’ dominant Harry is back, eyes dark and exterior overpowering. Her legs are tied apart and he’s toying with her, her cunt is glistening with every essence of her, desperate for his tongue desperate to be filled, and it’s taking everything in him not to give her what she wants. Her hands are tied above her head and she’s thankful because she knows she’d move them if she could, knows if she moved them he wouldn’t let her cum and oh my god does she want to cum.
He spreads her wide slowly, touches her gently. His eyes, her eyes. His eyes, her skin. His hand, her neck. Collarbone. Breast. Cunt. Them. He sees her, soft as silk and sweet like honey, dripping and begging to be filled and it makes his mouth water. He reaches out and swipes his thumb gently over her clit, the slight sensation making her shiver. She locks her eyes on his as he places his thumb on her lips and takes it, fresh from her cunt, into her mouth. Showing him what she wanted.
“You like this don’t you? Yeah I can tell, get soaked when I treat you like my little whore.” His words go straight to her core and she’s whimpering around his thumb at his voice and the smirk that’s got smugness appearing in his eyes. He removes his thumb from her mouth, which is met with an displeased whine only for her to be cut off as he pushes his middle finger inside of her and curls it upwards to find that spot he’s become more than familiar with.
“Yeah? Does that feel good? Is daddy making you feel good?”
Nodding her head eagerly, her eyes meet his and she takes her bottom lip in between her teeth.
“More, please more.”
Smirking, he doesn’t respond, he just pushes his index finger into her and brings his thumb up to rub pressured, small circles into her bundle of nerves.
“So close… No!”
Raising her head to look at him with wide, desperate eyes and her hips are following his hand as he pulls away from her. She watches as he crouches down between her legs, he blows cool air against her cunt which causes her head to land back against the bed and her back to arch.
“Bad girls don’t get to cum when they want to baby, you know that. Gotta deserve it first sweetheart.”
“You’re mean, daddy.”
Laughing he kisses the inside of her thigh, reaching up to hold her hips down.
“I’m mean? If I was mean I’d leave you tied up like this, wouldn’t touch you at all, make you watch me get off and then leave you aching to cum. Now that would be mean, don’t think you’d like that at all baby.”
Shaking her head she whispers a small ‘wouldn’t like that’ as he leans in to wrap his lips around her swollen clit.
He’s brought to the edge just to pull away nine times now, now building her up for the tenth. She’s all but shaking in his hands and her hips are bucking against his mouth.
It’s muffled with his mouth against her. She’s whiny and squirming and he’s leaning back when she tries to move away from him, landing a firm slap onto her pussy as he scolds her.
“I said hold still, if I have to tell you again you won’t cum at all.”
An exasperated moan leaves her as he places his tongue back on her, soothing the sting from the slap, and pushes his fingers back into her. She doesn’t know if she can take being denied an orgasm again, doesn’t think she’s ever been this desperate before. He can tell she’s getting close again because her walls are tightening around his fingers and he can hear her almost silent whispers of ‘please let me cum’. Harry has other plans though as he takes all stimulation from her again, leaving her empty and yearning.
His eyes shoot up to her face as the broken cry reaches his ears, she’s been so quiet despite the occasional whimper or gasp or quiet plea to cum. She’d taken everything in her stride, from her built up then denied release to the slaps to her pussy every time she got too close for his liking, but she can’t anymore. He’d denied her for so long that she couldn’t focus on anything but her need to cum, her need for him to make her cum. He’s finally looking at her and the sight of his broken, desperate girl in front of him is enough to bring any man to his knees. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips all red, wet and pouty, her eyes are squeezed shut and her hands have a vice like grip on the silk ties that are holding her hands in place and it makes his heart soft and his cock hard.
“Oh baby you’re so sweet and aching for me. My pretty girl needs to cum yeah?”
Her eyes flicker open and land on his as she nods, her eyes are glossed over with lust and tears and his eyes are warm and kind, this is her Harry, sure she likes when he treats her like a fuck-doll but ultimately this is her favourite Harry; the gentle one who just wants to make her to feel good.
“Okay baby love, okay. Think it’s time we make you cum.”
A relieved sob leaves her as he stands up to remove his clothes. After untying her legs he reaches over her, unties her hands and brings her wrists up to his lips as he places kisses on the irritated skin from where she’d been pulling at her restraints. Finally, he reaches over to their night stand and pulls a condom out from the draw, opening and covering himself with it he brings himself down towards her entrance, watching her shudder with sensitivity as he rubs the head over her clit.
“You ready, baby?”
She nods and whimpers out a ‘please’, mouth dropping open when he thrusts into her slowly. Cupping her jaw in one hand, he brings her lips up to his as he kisses her with all the soft promises his eyes made when his hands were busy exploring all the hidden places on her skin. Resting her forehead against his, she cries out a quiet ‘daddy’ with her eyes closed and it has him shaking his head.
“No… No baby, it’s Harry now okay? Your Harry is gonna make you come.”
The words make them both smile. He’s hers and she’s his. Only they get to see each other like this. The close intimacy is soft and sweet and it makes her stomach flip.
“M’close H. M’so close. Please let me cum, need to cum.”
Laying her back down against the sheets, he takes one of her hands in his and brings his other down to rub messy circles on her clit and he says one word.
That’s all it takes, just that one word of permission from him and her head is thrown back and her back is arched. Her hand is gripping his and her cunt is clenching around him and oh my god it’s a sight. The sight of her euphoria alone was enough to bring him to the edge. Spilling himself into the condom, he hunches over her, eyes shut and groans of ‘fuck’ and her name leaving his lip. He keeps thrusting and rubbing her clit until she pushes his hand away, then he lifts her and lays down with her on top of him. Still inside her, still feeling her pulse around him.
They lay in silence, him tracing lines on her back and her setting sporadic kisses on his neck and shoulder. It’s her who breaks the silence, sitting up slightly so she can look him in the eyes.
“M’I your good girl again?”
Chuckling quietly, he brings her back down to his chest and places a kiss on her forehead that she wears like a crown.