but i will sit here and tell you to start watching this how

The night starts with a big, spicy Philly cheese steak. It’s about 6pm. I’ve been wanting to try the cheese steak from this corny, 50’s retro place for a long time. I gobble down the big greasy bowl of meat, hot sauce, and cheese, then head to the coffee shop for my weekly draw group. A little after I get home, about 10pm, a stomach ache comes on. “Damn, guess spicy foods are out.” I’ve been getting stomach aches every time I have spicy Thai or hot wings. I google search about spice pain- possible stomach ulcer? “I guess I have been stressed lately, but no more than usual I don’t think…” File under “Will investigate further later.“ According to the comments on this health website, a glass of milk will help. Gulp one down, go to bed.

Wrestle to sleep for about an hour. Realize the ache is just over the required pain threshold to keep you from sleeping. Do some work on my comic, more tired, but stomach worse. Will play batman until I fall asleep. I feel like I’m just running in circles… How many times have I failed this mission? Batman, batman, stomach now hurts too bad to enjoy an active task like video games. Deliriously tired. Would be great to sleep through the rest of this abdominal temper tantrum. Try the old “hot shower will make you sleep” trick. Take some Pepto-Bismol, and some generic acetaminophen. Out of the shower, hurts to walk around now, and to lie down. Guess I’ll have to wait it out with my eyes open. Call and leave my Doc a message, maybe will get a spot in there tomorrow. Need to get that ulcer discovered… Time to enjoy a passive task like watching TV. Breaking Bad feels like the right mixture of funny and painful, just like me and my burning spice belly. Damn, I can’t even enjoy that part where during Hank’s interrogation of that meth head, Wendy, she accuses Hank of trying to buy sexual services from her on behalf of an underage “football player” (a misunderstanding involving Walter Jr. from a few episodes before). Oh hell. Time to look up what time emergency medical clinics open. Guess I’ll have to pay out of pocket since I can’t wait for my Doc tomorrow.  It’s about 4am now. Earliest clinic opens at 8. Now hungry again, but can’t eat what with all the pain. One hour down. Man, this is really starting to hurt. Can I really wait 3 more hours? Sitting is starting to hurt as much as lying and standing. And I’m still not enjoying TV. Okay, I’ve come to a decision…. 

“Hey, Kayla, my stomach still hurts, I’m thinking about driving to the ER, do you wanna come?” “Oh! Ya, sure. What time is it?” “It’s 5:30”. I  call the hospital “Hey, I’ve had a pretty bad stomach ache all night, I’m thinking of coming by.” Operator: *long pause* “Haha, well, okay! We’re open all night, so just come on in.” 

Driving with a stomach ache is not so bad, because you’re already hunched over. Wish Kayla could drive, but she doesn’t really know how, probably would have a panic attack and would definitely crash. Interesting that they have ER parking, I wonder how many ER patients drive themselves here… All bodily positions hurt my insides now, signing in to this place sucks. Give Kayla half the paperwork to fill out, glad she’s here, or this would be really boring. Man, they sure take a long time for someone trying to get into an empty emergency room… Signing in with a nurse, she ask me my height and I say “ ‘5’’8”, but I notice she puts down “ ‘5’’7”… They want to look at my pee, they always want to see my pee. I pee, no blood, so whatever that tells them means I’m getting an ultrasound first. Then a young nurse named Ken, a cool Asian dude with screws through both ears, squirts so much morphine into my IV that I lean back and audibly say “oh my god.” I feel it ripple like a shock wave from my arm down to the ends of my body. My belly is feeling alright now. 

The ultrasound technician tells me that babies are the least common thing she uses ultrasounds for. My joke has fallen flat. Back in the room, the doctor and his manila folder tell me “Good news! No gallstones, there are kidney stones inside your kidneys, but since they are inside, you shouldn’t be feeling the pain from those.” “Wait, does that mean I have to pee those stones out at some poin–” It is not discussed again. Seeing that neither organ has the appropriate stones, Doc would “rather not expose me to more radiation than necessary” and is working on discharging me. But, “I won’t leave here without a diagnosis.” 

In I go to the CT scan tube. That hot squish of contrast dye spreading through my veins. “Okay, we’re moving you into a room upstairs.” Says a hippy technician. Upstairs in my sweet and swanky single with couch, a person I’m pretty sure is just a businessman disguised in medical scrubs types on a computer. He takes down my answers to what seem like pre-surgery questions. “Do you have anybody specific on file in the event you are medically unable to yield consent  for yourself?” This, combined fact that they won’t feed me, makes me wonder what it is I’m going into surgery for. I saw this same thing about a year and a half ago with the whole brain debacle, but that’s a story for another time. Several medical people dip in, sprinkle breadcrumbs of information; it’s like a game show challenge that combines a scavenger hunt with a jigsaw puzzle. You have to gather the pieces of information from their hiding places, then assemble them in the correct order to reveal an answer. A tech comes in and spoils the game, “You seem to have a lot of questions, so I just want to make sure, you know you have appendicitis right? We’re about to take it out.” “Thank god,” I think. “It’s not the spicy foods. Spicy foods are still in.” Downstairs, in pre-op, I complain to my plain-clothes surgeon about how analog tests like pressing on my stomach are remarkably inaccurate, since a doctor’s subjective interpretation of my poor description of say, “the pain is slightly higher” can rule out appendicitis, the same appendicitis that a machine might spot an hour later. I tell him that I almost got sent home. My surgeon tells me he’s been doing analogue tests for 30 years, and not to worry about it. I start to tell him how “my deadpan reaction to pain also causes a lot of people to misdiagnose me, that a lot of people laugh when I describe how I’m in pai–”, but he walks away in the middle to get dressed for surgery. The operating room has big TVs and lights, it looks like a set, and I consider the possibility of fake hospitals as the anesthesia takes the wheel.

In the recovery area, the nurse tells me how big, inflamed appendixes can be agitated by spicy foods, foods high in fat, and dense foods like heavy cheese. I see an image of a spotlit cheese steak appear in a black void. Nurse feeds me ice chips and tells me she craves ice chips when she’s dehydrated. I suggest that she only craves ice chips because she works in a hospital, that ice chips are too unsatisfying a thing to crave at random, and that most people would just crave water. She agrees. Back upstairs in my room, it is now 8pm, and it has been 26 hours since I’ve eaten. I’ve been hydrated only through IV’s. The driest mouth and the clearest pee. Because the lingering anesthetic can cause nausea and vomiting, they will only give me jello. I go nuts on the jello. They continue to give me every jello I ask for, one at a time, like a test. Way past where I though the cutoff point would be, the nurse tells me “That’s it! There’s no more jello! You ate all the jello on this floor.” You’re damn right I did, you’re damn right….

anonymous asked:

I'm going through a real rough patch and if you want to write something cheerful you have no idea how grateful I'd be.

Flash sidled up to Superman on one of the Watchtower’s mezzanines, leaning against a rail. They looked at each other sidelong, then away.

“Wanna hear my new time?” Flash asked sideways, swaying as he alternated which foot held his weight, hands on his hips.

“There’s no way you beat my time,” Superman muttered, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were in the other direction, and both men went silent as the Lanterns walked too close. Superman and Flash gave them a nod of acknowledgment, then waited for them to be at a safe distance.

“Nine seconds.”

“What!” Superman dropped his arms, whipped his head around to where Flash was grinning and bouncing on his heels. “No way.”

Flat,” Flash said.

“There’s no way.”

“Check my heartbeat if you don’t believe me,” Flash said, tapping his insignia with his thumb. Then he frowned. “Actually, don’t, I’m pretty excited about this so my pulse is probably crazy.”

His heart always sounded like an angry hummingbird trapped between his lungs, but Barry was also a notoriously terrible liar, so it wasn’t as relevant as it could have been.

Dangit,” Superman said, crossing his arms again. He leaned back to scope out the area around them. No one seemed to be paying them much mind. “What time?”

“Eleven on a Saturday,” Flash said, looking even more smug. “You know I don’t mess around.”

“Tch!” Superman made an irritated sound, licking his canines. Then he snapped his fingers. “You forgot about–”

“Nnnope,” Flash interrupted. “I’m including the new ones in that, that’s the whole reason we had to reset our times, otherwise I’d still be at seven-point-four.”

Tch.” Superman drummed his fingers against his bicep. “Nine seconds,” he repeated, torn between irritation and awe.

“You know what that means,” Flash said, waggling his eyebrows.

Superman sighed. “Alright, where are we going?”

“I want soup.”

“Uh-huh.” Superman waited. Flash was waiting for him to ask. Superman was not going to give him the satisfaction.

“… in Saigon.”

“You’ve been watching Bourdain again,” Superman accused.

“It looked like really good soup!” Flash said, defensive.

“Fine,” Superman said, “but I am going to beat your time, and when I do–”

“Beat what, now?” Wonder Woman asked, having managed to approach them while they were distracted by negotiations.

“Nothing!” Flash and Superman said at once.

“We were just talking,” Superman said.

“About stuff,” Flash added unnecessarily. “Private, personal, man stuff.”

Wonder Woman’s eyebrows shot up. She was close enough for her lariat to hum on her hip. She looked Flash over. Flash started to turn red.

“Okay bye!” Flash said, and he was gone in a streak of red.

“Superman?” Wonder Woman asked.

“I should, uh. Hal…”

He wasn’t actually making any definitive statements, just stringing words together, and yet somehow it still managed to ring false. She watched him go, putting her hands on her hips.

She could practically sense it when Batman came up beside her, even quiet as he was.

“Do you want to know what they were talking about.”

“Do you know?” she wondered. He said nothing, so she turned to look at his face. It was as expressionless as ever, but she got the impression that he did not consider the question worthy of dignifying with a response.

He was Batman. He would never be so rude as to say ‘of course’ – but of course he knew.

“I wouldn’t want to invade his privacy,” Wonder Woman said cautiously.

“He’d tell you if you really asked,” Batman said. “They just like feeling like they have a special thing.”

“Oh.”

“Flash, especially.”

“I see.” She tapped on her lower lip as she watched Superman talk to one of the Green Lanterns. “So what’s the special thing?”

“Pick me up in the plane on Saturday and I can show you.”

She froze. Slowly, she turned to look at him. As always, being able to see him helped not at all. “Like a date?” she asked.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “More like a stakeout.”

“That could be like a date.” She was mostly saying it to tease him. Sometimes if she did it right, he turned pink and had to find a shadow to hide in.

“It’s usually not.”

“Why not?”

“I’m usually with the kids.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean–”

“It’s fine.”

She put her hand out to rest on his shoulder. “I would never imply–”

“I know.”

She took her hand back. “I’ll behave,” she assured him.

“You don’t have to,” he said, and she grinned.

“I’ll pick you up at ten,” she said, and she gave him an exaggerated wink as she walked away.

“It’s a date,” he murmured.


Why,” Wonder Woman asked, “are we in Florida?”

Batman was sitting beside her, and the plane was in a low hover. “Because as far as anyone can tell, this is the single biggest and busiest Walmart in the world.”

“I don’t think that explains as much as you think it does,” she said.

Batman held up a phone. A clock took up most of the screen. 10:59. “Watch,” he said, and he pointed out to the parking lot, vast and terrifying and teeming with people. She watched, and she had no idea how she was supposed to see anything in the crowd.

Finally, she spotted it. The motion too quick to be anything mortal. Would anyone on the ground notice anything more than a strong breeze?

“Oh! It’s the–” She snapped her fingers, couldn’t remember the word.

“Carts,” Batman supplied.

“Yes!”

In almost no time at all, every cart in the parking lot had been returned to one of the designated corrals. Batman pointed to something that he must have been using technology in his mask to see, because otherwise his eyes should not have been good enough. Wonder Woman was much better equipped to see Superman, standing beneath a tree and checking a stopwatch and scowling. He did some kind of motion with his arms and one leg that suggested he’d have thrown his hat to the ground, if he’d been wearing one.

“They introduced new carts,” Batman explained. “They don’t fit with the other ones, so it slows them down. Ruined their whole system.”

“They had a system?” she asked, giggling.

“No, here,” he said, tapping her arm to point again. “This is the best part. He’s frustrated.”

That’s the best part?”

“Watch what he does.”

She watched. Superman was gone again, more impossible-to-follow motion through the crowd. Things were moving. Large things.

“He’s fixing the cars!” she said, clapping her hands together.

“He’s fixing bad parking jobs,” Batman confirmed. “Because he’s mad.” There was a brief crooked curve to his mouth.

“He moved that one to a different space!”

“Illegally parked in a handicapped spot.”

“How fun.” Wonder Woman watched the people wandering through the lot, wondered how many of them had noticed what was happening and how many had disregarded it as nothing worth noticing. “Flash is the winner of this contest, then?”

“Consistently.”

“Is there a prize?”

“Clark buys him lunch. Usually somewhere he saw on a food show, since he can’t normally do that.”

“Why not?”

“Hm?”

“Barry can run anywhere, can’t he?” she asked. “I see no reason he couldn’t run to these places on his own.”

“He doesn’t like being alone in foreign countries,” Batman explained. “It makes him anxious.”

“Oh.” She returned her gaze to the parking lot. “How nice, then, that it all works out.” She frowned. “Is this weird?” she asked. “Spying on our friends like this.”

“I don’t think I’m the right person to ask.”

“Do you do this often?” she wondered. “Watch people have fun without you?”

“Define 'often’.”

Wonder Woman held up a finger in warning. “Zatanna taught me a trick.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“She says that if you ask me to define the parameters, it means the answer is bad.”

Before he could respond, there was a thump.

Superman was standing on the nose of the invisible jet.

He tapped a knuckle on the glass, until Diana opened the hatch. “Hello!” she said cheerfully.

“What are you two doing here?” Clark asked.

“We’re on a date!” Diana said.

“We’re not on a date,” Batman said.

“If you’re not on a date, can you give me a ride?”

“You’re out of our way,” Batman said.

“Nah, just drop me off in Gotham,” Clark said, slipping inside the plane, awkwardly floating between the two front seats into the back.

“You don’t even need a ride,” Bruce said, having to fit himself as far as possible into the edge of his seat so that Clark would have room to get by. “You can fly.”

“Yeah, and you can walk, but I don’t see you giving up the Batmobile.” Clark made himself comfortable in the back seat as Diana closed up the plane. “I’m craving Dimitri’s.”

“You’re too sober for Dimitri’s,” Bruce said.

“I’m always sober. You’re lucky I can tell this wasn’t a real date, or I would be really creeped out by the whole spying on me thing.”

“Don’t tell Barry we know about your special thing,” Diana said, pulling the plane out of its hover to ascend. “I don’t want to ruin it for him.”

“I won’t,” Clark assured her. “Hey, you know where we should go while we’re here?”

“No,” said Bruce.

“Where?” asked Diana.

“No,” said Bruce.

“Disney World!”

“No.”

Diana gasped.

“No.”

Clark put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You can’t have come all the way to Florida just to see me,” he coaxed.

“I’m banned from Walmart, strongly discouraged from visiting Disney parks, and my parents are dead. I have no other reason to visit Florida.”

Happy Tuesday.

I’m calling it “Yurio Catches Puberty” as a working title. (PG for swearing and puberty.) (Warning for body image stuff, very minor.) 

***

“WHEN WILL THIS BE OVER?”

The scream of anguish from the rink’s locker room shower made Yuuri look up sharply. He’d only arrived in St. Petersburg yesterday, but this couldn’t be normal, even if nobody else seemed to be paying the slightest attention.

“AUGH!”

It was definitely Yurio.

“Yurio?” he started to ask, but Georgi clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t engage,” he hissed.

Yuuri looked at him, wide-eyed.

“What’s going on?” he whispered, as Yurio began a steady, at least quieter stream of cursing in Russian, then English, then Japanese that Yuuri definitely hadn’t taught him.

“Puberty,” Georgi said.

Yuuri blinked. “Puberty?” he asked.

Georgi gave him a disgusted look. “Of course,” he mumbled to himself. “The golden boy didn’t suffer puberty…”

He wandered off, now also cursing, and Yuuri had ten seconds of silence before Yurio kicked the shower door open and strode out, towel around his waist.

(There is a readmore below! Read more!)

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FUTURE HEARTS | PT.6 [M]

pt1 | pt2 | pt3 | pt4 | pt5 | pt6 | (6/?)

pairing: jimin x reader, jungkook x reader

genre: smut, angst / punk!jikook

word count: 17,335

note: inspired by the anime/manga “Nana” / music playlist

description: It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook.

cr.


The slight tremble in Jimin’s fingertips developed into a full-blown tremor as he closed the door to his studio, effectively leaving you behind — but it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t that simple because he wasn’t just leaving you behind. He was leaving you behind with a guy that you were completely in love with… Which kind of blowed considering he was starting to fall for you himself.

The music from the party was reverberating inside of his chest and he knew that his ears should be ringing with anger, but instead he just felt numb. It was like he couldn’t hear anything; no music, no crowd, nothing. It was all one giant blur that didn’t seem to make sense to him, and all because his mind was screaming that nothing else mattered right now — nothing except for you.

Jimin knew very well what leaving you in that room with Jungkook meant. It meant every single feeling that the two of you had ever had for each other would inevitably rekindle, and compared to what Jimin had with you, even if he did consider it one of most amazing stints of time of his entire life, it didn’t hold a candle to what you and Jungkook had, and probably always would have.

Keep reading

Roommates (M)

Originally posted by bwipsul

╳ Pairing: Jimin x Reader 

╳ Genre: (one shot) smut and kinda fluff & angst ??

╳ Summary: Being roommates with your best friend can be fun until one day you look at him differently. 

(this is something that I found that I had written months ago and just decided to post it!!)


The day you looked at your best friend as more than a friend, you knew you were screwed. It happened out of nowhere. You just woke up one morning and looked at him differently. You were never going to tell anyone, you weren’t stupid. That would just lead to Jimin being freaked out and nothing being the same. Risking your friendship with Jimin was not worth the little crush you had on him.

Deciding that you couldn’t fall back asleep, you got up to start the morning. Walking into the kitchen to get some breakfast, you didn’t notice your best friend standing there.

“Holy shit! Jimin, you scared me!” You yelled, clutching your chest.

“What’s gotten you so jumpy?” Jimin asks, laughing while opening the refrigerator

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Angel in the Darkness (M)

Originally posted by jungkook-gifs

Summary: After a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. Little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jin, but not romantically)

Genre: Smut (M), angst, mafia!au, prostitution!au 

Word Count: 5,468

A/N: This is a dark and filthy story! Graphic descriptions of sex (masturbating, etc), heavy dom/sub undertones, drug use, vulgar language use……(alot of smut comes in later) This is a mature read! You have been warned!



Your mother told you that there was a purpose for what everyone does. That there is always a reason for someone’s actions; whether it was bad or good. If it was a good action, the individual has learned the most rewarding path to handle situations; regardless if it was easy or not. If it was a bad action, the person could reflect on it, and with guidance, they will learn the right way toward dealing with obstacles. And to this day, that is how you viewed life. If you handled something well, you would be rewarded in the future, if you handled it poorly, you would need to reflect on why you did such a thing, till you find the right path. With these beliefs, you always wanted to find the ‘purpose’ of an individual’s actions, and help them find the right way. So that’s how you ended up working at a rehab centre; helping mentally to find the root cause of someone’s poor actions, and leading them to a better future.

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Taken for Granted (pt 3)

As Namjoon closed the door behind him, he stood by the entrance, snickering to himself. “Her? Liking me? Wahh” he said silently to himself. He wasn’t sure what it was he was feeling now, but he couldn’t stop smiling. “As if I’d like her?” he said again to himself.

“Hyung what are you doing by yourself there?” Jungkook asked curiously.

“Huh? Oh nothing” Namjoon said, flustered.


(One week later)

“Hey guys, Y/N isn’t coming today! Looks like it’s just us tonight” Jin said, filling his voice through the dorm.

“Awh, whyyy” Taehyung asked, coming out of the living room.

“She said she’s sick” Jin said with a frown.

“Let’s go there then! We can bring her food” Taehyung said, excitedly.

“Yah, if she’s sick she should just rest. She can’t be taking care of you guys too” Jin scolded.

Taehyung walked back to the living room with his head held down. He was looking forward to watching the movie you two had discussed a few weeks ago, but it looks like it would have to wait another week. 

Namjoon meanwhile, listened to everything silently from the dining table. “That’s weird, she never falls sick…” he said to himself. 

“What’s that? Couldn’t hear you” Hoseok said, sitting across from him,

“oh, no it’s nothing” Namjoon said.

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Aisles [M]

Aisle Two

Summary: Jungkook was your best friend. You held onto his secrets. And he knew all of yours. Except for one. One that would change your friendship forever. You were in love with him.

Pairing: Reader x Jungkook

Genre: bestfriend!au, college!au, angst, smut

Word Count: 6,772

Originally posted by sugutie

Aisle One Aisle Two

Your apartment was like a ghost town. The emptiness echoed every time you stepped foot in the sad space. His shoes were missing by the front door. Your keys were never on the side table. There was evidence that people lived there. Ramen packets in the trash. Used coffee cups on the sink. But no one had really been around for two weeks.

Two weeks. This was the longest you had gone without speaking to Hoseok, yet alone seeing him. The fight at Yoongi’s was the worst you ever had. His sharp tongue dug wounds that even stitches couldn’t heal. He had been keeping himself occupied at Yoongi’s or the dance studio. Your heart sank into your chest anytime you came home and heard the washing machine running, only to find that the person who was wearing them was nowhere to be found.

A small part of you enjoyed the quiet. You were able to spread all your materials out on the coffee table. Bags of chips and half empty iced lattes were littered in between stacks of highlighted notes. He wasn’t there to yell at you when you fell asleep face first on your microbiology homework, the lines of the pages leaving imprints on your cheeks.

You did miss him. The two of you had been friends for years. But this time it was not your turn to say sorry. If Hoseok wanted things to go back to normal, he would have to swallow his large amount of pride and apologize.

But you had never heard Hoseok apologize in his life. 

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At Last (m)

“Baby…” you murmur against his lips, hands snaking under his pesky tee. “I need you so bad.”

Jimin chuckles, inching away from you. “Do you?” he questions, eyebrow cocking upwards.

You frantically nod your head, the heat in your thighs unbearable along with the arousal that pools in your panties.

“Then beg for me.”

Originally posted by bangtaninspired

Pairing: Jimin x Reader // gaming au, long distance lovers au

Genre: Smut, a lil’ fluff

Word Count: 7.5k

Trilogy: Until Next TimeMaybe Next Time ↣ At Last

Includes: roadhead, oral, spanking, dom jimin, multiple orgasms, nipple play

A/N: i know i said this would be out next week but the thirst became too strong; anyway, enjoy the last part! ^^


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→ all that is gold (m)

Originally posted by chimtae


Sub!BTS collab

pairing → Taehyung x Reader

genre → roommate!au + sugar baby!au, smut, angst

warnings sub!taehyung, skype sex, masturbation, orgasm denial, possessiveness, slight breath play, oral sex, dirty talk, thigh riding, tae ends up sort of a switch? idk

☆ word count → 11.2k

☆ summary → As a college student struggling to make ends meet, Taehyung resorts to a less than ethical method to satisfy his appetite for expensive treats. The last thing he wants is for you to find out how he acquires the Gucci in his closet… however this proves to be difficult when you are his roommate.

or : Taehyung is a sugar baby and somehow thinks he can keep this a secret


☆ a/n → ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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Babygirl

Summary: Dan is an innocent virgin and Phil is the bad-boy who likes to make him flustered. High school Pastel!Dan and Punk!Phil AU

Genre: Smut that’s kinda kinky but mostly cute

Word count: 4,039

Kinks: Feminization, daddy kink, dirty talk, a little verbal humiliation

You can also read on AO3 here.

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You Deserve Punishment (M)

Description: You never wanted to see them again, you couldn’t bare facing them in the eyes. Not after what you witnessed. It would forever haunt you. Why? Because you discovered their dirty little secret; Park Jimin was the lover of Min Yoonji, who was actually a man.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader x Yoongi

Genre: Smut (M), angst, university!au

Word Count: 6,350

A/N: Extreme vulgar language use. Name calling, and heavy dom/sub undertones. There is also a lot of yaoi (boyxboy) action. Graphic descriptions of sex (oral, etc…) This is a mature read! You have been warned!

Originally posted by bellahasjams

Never in a million years, would you have expected to walk into a full 500 student lecture, only to easily spot the two people you never wanted to see again. There was a big lump held in your throat, as you quickly ducked your head down to find an empty seat. Unfortunately for you, the only empty seat you found was exactly a row behind these certain individuals. Trying to sit down as quietly as possible, you mentally screamed, You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Since when did they come here?!? How could I not have known?!?

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Writing is Hard, pt 9: Sexting

Summary: You send Dean some dirty pictures.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Warning: Smut, taking pictures during sex

Word Count: 2600ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO


You hold up the phone, then almost instantly put it down.

This is stupid.

No. This isn’t stupid. This will be hot. Just do it.

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Adult World (Jungkook smut)

Originally posted by nochuie

Description: You reveal to your friends that no one except yourself has ever made you cum. Jin in particular finds this interesting and dares you and Jungkook to go to the sex shop down the street and purchase a sex toy, for your own benefit of course.

Pairings: You x Jungkook, You x Taehyung, Jungkook x Taehyung (you know how truth and dare goes)

Basically: Taehyung is a cocky lil shit who features quite a lot. Jin is a mean lil shit and Jungkook is a very helpful lil shit ;)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff (so much smut, like damn this was hot to write)

This fic includes: A brief boy on boy scene, swearing, alcohol, sex toys, explicit smut

Word count: 6k


“You’ve got to be kidding!” Jin practically howls with laughter, doubling over himself and nearly falling off the couch with laughter. You’re about to tell him off but Jungkook beats you to it.

“Shut up. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Jin sits up straight, looking down at Jungkook, who sits next to you on the floor, opposite Jin. He wipes the tears from his eyes, his laughter finally dying down. “Hey, don’t you think you should talk to me with a bit more respect?” He prods teasingly, but Jungkook doesn’t seem in the mood, his previous lighthearted spirit vanishing upon Jin’s insensitive comment.

Jungkook’s tone is excitingly stern, but not rude, “Yeah, I’ll show more respect when you show more respect to Y/N.”

You laugh, “Don’t worry about me, Jungkook. I don’t think I can take Jin very seriously, not when I highly doubt he’d even know how to make me or any other girl cum.”

The circle of friends in Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment erupt into comical ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.

“You got damn burned!” Jimin says, leaning over the bottles in the center of your various seated positions to high five you.

Keep reading

Skewered

Summary: You’re a doctor for the avengers and when Bucky comes in with a hunk of metal in his side you find that it’s not his injury that’s making you sweat.

Warnings: Description of wounds/blood, Bucky being shameless

Note: I’m overwhelmed by the feedback I got on my last fic! You guys are great! So for my second fic I though I’d try out Bucky, again I’d love any constructive comments/criticism.


“Incoming! Incoming!” Odette, the surgical tech assigned to you rushes into the room.

“How many?” you ask, looking up from the table where you’ve laid out your tools.The tech flushes. You sigh. “What type of injuries?” 

“Uh-hm..” the tech stutters. You turn around so you can hide your eye roll. “Dr.Cho’s been called in..” Odette says. 

“Thank you, Odette” You say and head to the sink to scrub your hands again. You are a top scientist working for Fury, and besides having your degree in engineering you’re an MD who specializes in general surgery. So whenever the reinstated avengers go on mission you’re put on call, which basically consists of you waiting in the med bay in case anyone needs to be treated. Usually the injuries are minor, the team are unparalleled in what they do, and you just end up patching up deep scrapes or bullet grazes. Because of this and the fact you have daily work at the Avenger’s compound you’ve become very friendly with the team.

Your palms start to sweat. Today’s mission was supposed to be high risk and it’s a bad sign that Helen’s been called in. With you and one other doctor on call her and her technology are only called in for severe injuries. The door opens and a battered looking Steve supporting an even more battered looking Bucky walks in. Steve helps Bucky sit on the examination table.

“Any more injured?” You ask, pulling on gloves.

“Scrapes all around, except for Sam. He’s badly burned.” Steve blows air out of his mouth. You look at him, his brow is creased in worry. 

“How badly?” You look at Bucky, he has a chunk of what seems to be jagged metal in his side, about two inches thick, protruding several inches from his gear. It seems to be a simple extraction job.

“Badly. But Park’s seeing to him”  Samuel Park is the other doctor in the compound “Dr.Cho’s supposed to put him in the new Cradle.I hope she gets here soon.”

You walk to the table and pick up scissors and a knife. “Odette, You should go assist Dr.Park.” the tech nods, and scurries out the door. Steve goes to follow but looks back at Bucky.

“He’ll be fine, go,” You say, and with that Steve leaves.


You look at Bucky. His eyes are already trained on you. It reminds you of the time Steve came in for stitches. His forearm had been split open. Bucky leaned against the wall in the corner of the room, he remained silent but his eyes followed your every move. Even when you looked at him he didn’t break his gaze. You assumed he was just being protective over his best friend. Bucky hasn’t said more than two words to you in the time that you’ve known him. Even after he started opening up and joking around with the team he remained oddly silent around you. You assumed you annoyed him. He had no problem talking with the others and even flirting with the research techs. 

You step up to him and start cutting away his gear. ‘Oops probably should have asked before I started cutting off his clothes’.Heat flushes down your neck and you stop your actions.

“Sorry, do you mind  if I cut away your gear?” 

“ ‘S fine” he says, voice low. You look up and you swear there’s a hint of smile on his face. You nod and continue. He smells of something metallic mixed with blood and sweat and a hint of….cologne…? As you cut away more of his gear you catch more of it. You try not to think about it. He’s handsome, the type of handsome that makes people do a double take. You try to ignore the broadness of his shoulders as his gear falls away, leaving him in a damp wife-beater. 

“Ain’t even the first date and you’re already tryna get me outta my clothes.” He rasps, startling you. You stutter and stammer, before deciding not to respond.

“Okay,” you say, taking a breath. “I’m just going to  take a look at this” You step in between his legs and inspect the metal shard. It looks worse than what you first thought it was. The shard is about the size of your hand and sticks out right below his rib cage, there’s a possibility that it might have hit some organs. There’s no exit point. Your heart rate goes up. Can a super soldier die if his major organs fail before his body can repair them? 

You wheel over your table of tools. You wish you hadn’t sent away Odette.

“Can you lay down for me?,” You ask.

“Of course sugar.” He says, piercing you with his stare.

You take a deep breath, feeling flustered. Did this man want to die on the operating table?

You cut away his undershirt and prepare some local anesthesia.

“I’m going to try to numb the area, but I don’t know how well this will work. I’m sorry I don’t have anything else on hand.” You don’t even know if anesthesia would work on him.

“ ‘S alright, darling I’ve been through worse,” He says giving you a small smile. You feel your face fall as you think about how true his statement is. You numb him and take a deep breath.You move to start extracting the shard when his hand shoots out and grabs yours. You stop yourself from jumping.

“You know there is something that would make me feel better.” Bucky says, voice gravelly.

“Of course, what is it?” You place your tools back on the table. ‘Maybe a special painkiller?’ you think.

“A kiss,” Bucky’s face stretches into a wide smirk.

You splutter “James…!”

“Bucky.” he supplies, smirk not leaving his face.

“Bucky….I uh….I don’t think that would be necessary for minimizing your pain.”

Oh I beg to differ darlin’“ He says.

You clear your throat and start to grab your tools again. Bucky says your name, pleadingly.

“Come on, ya really gonna deny a dyin’ man his final wish.” You roll your eyes at his dramatic tone. You fix him with your gaze.

 “You’re not gonna die Bucky.” 

“Here I am,bleeding out on your table, and all I’m askin’ for is one little kiss. Just one little kiss, from the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He looks at you from the corner of his eye “….before she slices me open.”

You sigh. One thing you know about Bucky Barnes is that he’s stubborn as a bull. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, his stubble prickling you in a not unpleasant way.

For a moment Bucky just looks at you, it seems like he’s crawling underneath your skin with that stare. Then he groans “Really sugar? Ya gonna try and cheat a man with a chunk of metal in his side?”

“I-I, uh” You stammer

“You really are heartless.” He sighs dramatically, closing his eyes.

You war with yourself for a split second, before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. As you start to pull away Bucky’s hand comes up and stops you, and he deepens the kiss. His lips are surprisingly soft, his stubble scratches your face deliciously. Remembering the fact that he has a piece of metal in his side, you slowly withdraw. Bucky tugs on your lip with his teeth as you do so, which makes you have to turn around in order to regain your composure. When you turn back around, Bucky’s face is split in an ear to ear grin.

“Alright beautiful, cut me open, I can now die a happy man.”

You swallow, “Shut up James,” you snap, hating how your voice shakes. You pick up your tools and start to remove the metal. It comes out surprisingly smoothly, except for the last few inches. As you pull them free, Bucky starts to bleed. Way too much. The end of the shard is jagged. You try to contain the blood. But there’s just so much, you call for assistance and try to repair the damage.

By the time you finish you’re covered in blood. “Bucky, Bucky can you hear me?” You say, stepping close and touching his face, he looks drawn, pale.

“His pulse is faint. But it’s there.” Odette says. You jump, you forgot she had come in.

“Alright,” you sigh, blowing hair back from your forehead. “Guess we’ll wait.”


Bucky’s moved to a different hospital bed in another one of the rooms, and fitted with IVs. Steve understandably freaks out, with two close friends gravely injured within 24 hours it’s no wonder. Sam’s healed now, resting. You tell Steve to do the same and sit in a chair in Bucky’s room. The others wander in and out of the room.You know with his regenerative properties he’ll recover, but when six hours pass you can’t help but worry. ‘Why hasn’t he woken up by now?’ .


You blink your eyes open as a sliver of sunlight passes across your face. You squint, looking at the clock on the wall: 7 am. Damn. You finished patching Bucky up at about 4 pm last night. You had fallen asleep in his room. ‘I’m terrible at keeping watch’ you scold yourself. ‘What if he had worsened during the night?’ You look over at Bucky, only to find him watching you. You jump.

“Man you need to stop doing that.” Your voice is thick with sleep. You lick your dry lips, feeling self conscious. Standing you hear your joints cracking as you walk over.

“How can I help it when you’re always lookin’ so gorgeous?” He smirks.

“Shut up,” You say, pulling back the covers and inspecting his wound. It looks nearly healed. “How do you feel?” you murmur.

“Alright,” He says wincing slightly as you put pressure on his wound. He sits up, and you try to ignore the way the muscles in his chest and stomach flex. “I’d feel better if you’d let me buy you dinner, though” He looks up at you through his lashes. You click your tongue.

“You really are shameless,”

“Come on, it’s the least I can do after bleedin’ all over ya.” You look down at yourself, your scrubs are crusted in dried blood. You start replacing the dressing on his wound.

“You say that to all the girls who stitch you up?” You quip, avoiding his gaze.

“Nope. But then again I don’t spend six months building up the courage to ask those girls out either.” You look at him for a long while,saying nothing, and notice how red starts to tinge his ears and creep up his neck.

“Alright,” You answer finally giving him a smirk of your own.

Bucky lets out a huge breath, and chuckles  “Damn sugar, you really know how to make a man sweat, don’t ya?”


Tags : @stephie-senpai

Friends Part 1

Summary: You and Bucky are friends for a long time, but lately you start to develop romantic feelings for him. One day one of Tony’s parties everything changes but maybe not the way you wanted or expected.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1947

Warnings: Fluffy and angst

Thank you @amrita31199 for beta this for me you are amazing 

credits to the gif owner

You never felt so inadequate in your life, when you left the house for one of Tony’s parties . You felt beautiful in your black strapless dress and high heels.  But as soon as you arrived at the party, you felt your heart being shattered.

You see Bucky with a beautiful blonde in his arms , when he sees you he comes in your direction kissing your cheek and pulling you to a hug “Don’t you look beautiful?” He says staring into your eyes, you smile at him with your best fake smile“Well I tried, apparently not as hard as your date.” You say sounding bitter even if that is the last thing you wanted to be or sound like.

Keep reading

Ever Since New York

Originally posted by riverdaleselite

Check the Ever Since New York Masterlist for series updates!

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: After his junior year, Jughead goes to New York for a writing internship.  

Warnings: some swearing, you might cry

Word count: 4,574

A/N: umm first of all thank you for 7000 followers?? holy crap. anywho wowowow this is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written. It’s based off of the song “Ever Since New York” from Harry Styles’s album (which I love btw).  This is probably my favorite thing I’ve ever written tbh. Hope you all enjoy!


Tell me something, tell me something
You don’t know nothing, just pretend you do

After years of saving the money he earned at the Twilight Drive-In and other odd jobs, Jughead finally had enough to buy a plane ticket to New York.  He had discovered a writing internship there that he knew he had to do. It didn’t take much effort to convince his dad to allow him to go; in fact, FP even offered to pitch in some money. Jughead refused, claiming that he wanted to do this all on his own.  He wanted to deserve this internship as much as possible.

He started talking to Veronica frequently, asking her about her time in New York.  She, of course, gladly answered all of Jughead’s questions.  She was glad to finally bond with her boyfriend’s best friend.  

Jughead also pestered Betty with questions, seeing as she had done an internship similar to his two summers ago.  It was a bit awkward at first, since the two of them used to date.  However, they both got over their awkwardness for the sake of preparing Jughead for his internship.

“It’s really amazing,” Betty told him.  “It’s a great experience, and you’ll learn so much.”

“What are other people like?” Jughead inquired.  “Are they pricks?”

“Sometimes,” Betty laughed. “It depends.  Do you know how many other people are participating in the internship?”

“Just one,” he answered, shrugging.  “I don’t know who it is though.”

“Well, if they’re a jerk then that’s gonna suck,” she offered.  “But if they’re nice, they may become one of the closest friends you’ll ever have.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Betty replied and nodded.  “You’re gonna spend all summer with this other person.  They’re either gonna drive you up the wall or become your new best friend.”

I need something, tell me something new
Choose your words, ‘cause there’s no antidote
For this curse, oh, what’s it waiting for?
Must this hurt you just before you go?

“Have fun in New York, Jug.” FP patted his son on the back as they stood at the airport gate.  Betty, Veronica, Archie, Fred Andrews, and Kevin stood behind FP, all wearing supportive smiles.  Jughead glanced around at the group who followed him to the airport, filled with admiration of his friends and family.

“Thank you guys,” he said, fighting back a giant grin.  “You didn’t all have to come, though.”

“Of course we did,” Fred Andrews argued.  “We’re not gonna see you all summer, Jughead.  We have to give you a proper send-off.”

“Well, proper send-off achieved,” Jughead laughed.  He watched as others in the line began to move.  “I guess I should go now.  Thanks for this.  See you all in August.”  As he turned on his heel and walked away, the group of six gleefully waved at Jughead’s retreating figure.

“You aren’t worried about Jughead all alone in a giant city?” Fred asked FP as they exited the airport.

“Nah,” FP responded, waving his hand.  “He’s a smart kid, he’ll find his way.”

Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know

“Hi, I’m Jughead Jones,” he introduced himself at the front desk.  “I’m here for the writing internship.”

The lady sitting behind the desk glanced up at Jughead.  “Ah, yes! We’ve been expecting you, Mr. Jones!” she exclaimed, standing from her chair.

“Oh, am I late?” Jughead inquired.  

The lady shook her head. “Oh no, not at all.  Your counterpart just got here early, so we’ve been waiting for you to start.”

“My counterpart?”

“Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” she gestured to a girl sitting on a chair against the wall, flipping through a magazine.  The girl perked up when she heard her name, and saw Jughead and the receptionist staring at her.

“Is this him?” (Y/N) questioned, standing up and setting the magazine down.  Jughead noticed it was a TIME magazine.  

“Yes,” the receptionist answered.  “(Y/N), this is Jughead Jones.”  Jughead stuck his hand out to shake, and (Y/N) firmly shook his hand.

“I hope you’re not an asshole,” she blatantly said as they released hands, “because we’re gonna be stuck with each other all summer.”

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he quipped.  

(Y/N) raised her eyebrow in interest.  “Quick-witted,” she noted with a smirk forming on her face.  “I like it.”

“You better,” Jughead fired back, biting back a grin.  “Like you said, we’ll be around each other all summer.”

“If we were together any longer, I’d worry about you falling in love with me,” she jokingly warned. “So be careful.”

Brooklyn saw me, empty at the news
There’s no water inside this swimming pool

“When’d you get here?” (Y/N) asked as she and Jughead exited the building, their first day of the internship finished.

“Two days ago,” Jughead answered with his hands in his pockets.  “What about you?”

“Last week.”  Her pace was quick, and she seemed determined to get somewhere.  “Are you hungry?  Because I’m starving.”

“I would love some food,” Jughead almost moaned at the thought of food.  He was only able to scarf down a small lunch in the midst of the business.

“I know this great burger place,” (Y/N) explained as she led the way to the restaurant.  “It’ll make every other burger you’ve ever eaten seem like a pile of shit on a bun.”

“I doubt that,” Jughead scoffed.  “There’s a diner where I’m from that makes the best burgers you’ll ever eat.”

“Where are you from?”

“Riverdale,” he said. “Pop’s diner, that’s what it’s called. If you ever find yourself in Riverdale, stop by Pop’s.  Trust me, you’ll thank me.”

“Well we’re not in Riverdale right now, Jughead Jones,” (Y/N) reminded him.  “So you should thank your lucky stars that I am your counterpart, because I’ve been here for the past week. You know what I’ve been doing for that week?  Exploring, Jones.  I have tried and evaluated twenty-one restaurants, and I know where to go for whatever you’re craving.”

“What if I’m craving Korean food?” he quizzed.

“32nd street, there’s a great Korean grill,” she immediately responded.

“Ethiopian?”

“There’s a quaint little place on 135th street.”

“What if I want to get wasted?” Jughead smirked.

“There’s a club a couple of blocks away with shitty security,” (Y/N) answered with a smirk equally as wide.  “Or maybe I was just an exception, seeing as how attractive I am.”

“I think you overestimate yourself,” he scoffed, playfully rolling his eyes.  

(Y/N) lightly slapped him on the arm.  “I do not!” she retaliated.  

“Whatever, keep lying to yourself.”  Jughead quickened his pace, leaving (Y/N) behind him.

“Hey!” she called out, rushing to catch up to him.  “You better not leave me!  You don’t even know where you’re going.”

“You’re still here,” he noted, casually wrapping his arm around her shoulders.  “Lead the way, (Y/N).”

Almost over, had enough from you
And I’ve been praying, I never did before

“God, this food sucks,” (Y/N) whispered, gesturing towards the plates of Japanese food sitting in front of her and Jughead.  “That place we ate at last week was so much better.”

“True,” Jughead agreed with a mouthful of food.  “But this place is cheaper.”

“Rightfully so!” she exclaimed, jabbing at her tofu with a chopstick.  Jughead silently laughed and shook his head, continuing to eat his fried rice.  He watched as (Y/N) picked at her dish, examining each aspect of the meal.  

It had been three weeks since their internship had begun, and Jughead and (Y/N) quickly became close friends.  They bonded over the overwhelming amount of work at their internship and their food-discovering adventures.  Jughead didn’t know how he would’ve survived an entire summer in New York without (Y/N) by his side.  They even stayed at the same hotel, so during a sleepless night, one would wake the other and stay up all night talking.  On those nights, they would drink hot chocolate.

“I’ve got the check tonight, Jug,” (Y/N) said, snapping Jughead out of his thoughts as she took the bill from the waitress.  Jughead furiously shook his head.

“No, (Y/N), you got dinner yesterday,” he protested, reaching out towards the bill.  “I’ll cover it tonight.”

“You got lunch!” she exasperatedly exclaimed.  “I can handle it.  Dinner wasn’t even expensive last night or tonight.”  

Jughead huffed as the waitress returned and took (Y/N)’s money.  “Fine,” he pouted, “but we’re gonna go out for desert, and I’m paying for it.”

“Fine.”

“Ice cream?” Jughead offered, standing from his chair.  (Y/N) followed suit, and they exited the diner.  She slowly grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers.

“I’m feeling frozen yogurt tonight,” she countered his offer, grinning up at him.

“What’s the difference?” Jughead playfully scoffed, trying not to blush at their hand-holding.  They had started doing it last week after he almost lost (Y/N) in a giant mass of people.

“I swear to God, Jug, you said the same thing last week, and I explicitly explained it to you.”  (Y/N) rolled her eyes.  “Ice cream is-”

“Made with cream, whereas frozen yogurt is a yogurt-based treat,” Jughead quoted what (Y/N) had told him last week.

“I knew you paid attention to me.”

Understand I’m talking to the walls
I’ve been praying ever since New York

In the middle of the night, the phone started ringing.  Jughead, still half-asleep, answered it with his eyes remaining shut.  

“You can come over,” he said, not waiting for the caller to initiate the conversation.

“Okay,” (Y/N)’s quiet voice responded, and she hung up.  A few moments later, a soft knock resonated through Jughead’s hotel room.  He rolled off of his bed, throwing on a t-shirt, and opened the door.  (Y/N) stood in the doorway, slightly shaking.  

“You cold?” Jughead murmured.  (Y/N) wordlessly nodded.  He gently grabbed her arm and led her inside, shutting the door behind them.  He stripped the blanket off from his bed and draped it over her shoulders, wrapping (Y/N) in the soft white material.  (Y/N) smiled up at him.

“Why do you put up with me?” she asked, sitting on his bed.  Jughead mimicked her actions and sat next to her.

“What do you mean?” he questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

“How are you not sick of me?” she elaborated.  “I mean, we’ve been constantly hanging out for, what, a month and a half now?  You know if I’m annoying you, you can just tell me. I’ll back off.”

“Why would you annoy me?” he asked, slowly wrapping his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. “You’re the best part about this internship.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“I’m not,” Jughead lightly laughed, slightly nudging her.  “I’m serious, (Y/N).  Before I came, I was asking my friend Betty about internships.  She did one two years ago, so she knew what she was talking about. She told me that the people I’ll meet during this internship will either drive me up the wall or become one of my closest friends.”

“So I haven’t driven you up the wall?” (Y/N) inquired with a tentative smile.

“Of course not,” Jughead laughed loudly this time.  A moment of silence ensued, both (Y/N) and Jughead overwhelmed by sleepiness.

“Is Betty your girlfriend?” (Y/N) broke the silence, staring up at Jughead.

“No,” he muttered, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.  “She was,” he admitted, “but not anymore.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing bad,” he shrugged. “Sometimes things just don’t work out, you know?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) muttered. “I had a boyfriend.”

“Really?  That’s shocking.”

“Shut up!” she whined, elbowing him.  “Yes, I had a boyfriend.  He was actually a total dickhead.”

“How?” Jughead asked, growing concerned.  

(Y/N) looked up at him and giggled.  “Oh, you’re worried,” she cooed, placing a hand on his chin.  Jughead swatted it away.

“Sue me,” he retorted, but then grew serious.  “But really, what happened?”

“Nothing bad,” she replied, facing away from Jughead.  “We were dating for a while, and… I don’t know.  He never really supported me in anything.  He wasn’t nice to any of my friends, and I didn’t notice for so long because I was so fucking smitten.  Eventually it hit me one day, and I realized that he was horrible.  So, naturally, I dumped him.”

“As one does,” Jughead nodded, nonchalantly tracing patterns on (Y/N)’s right arm with his thumb.  

(Y/N) slumped and sighed. “What time is it?”

Jughead glanced at the clock with its blaring, bright red numbers.  “Three o’clock.”

“Jesus,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes.  “I should… I should get back to my room.”  She jumped off the bed and trekked towards the door, her bare feet dragging on the carpet.

“Wait,” Jughead commanded, grabbing her arm.  “Don’t go, it’s too late.”

“You say that as if I have to walk across New York City,” (Y/N) joked.  “It’s fine, Jug, my room is down the hall.  I’m not gonna get mugged.”

“No, but you may fall over before you reach your room,” he countered with a lighthearted smirk. “Just stay here tonight, okay?” (Y/N), too tired to argue, needed no more convincing as she turned around and climbed into Jughead’s bed. He laid down, patting the space next to him.  (Y/N) tentatively settled next to him, slowly resting her head on the neighboring pillow. “You can get closer than that, you know,” he told her, amused by her unusually timid nature.  She hesitantly scooted closer to him, until she was near enough for Jughead to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her against his chest.  “That’s better,” he whispered into her hair.  She draped one arm around his torso, the other arm tucked under their now-shared pillow.

“Night, Jug,” she murmured, eyes already closed.  He smiled at her.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know

“Oh, Jughead, how is it?” Betty eagerly asked, her face displayed on his laptop screen.  

“It’s been great,” Jughead answered.  

“What restaurants have you tried?” Veronica questioned from her spot next to Betty.

“A bunch,” he vaguely replied.  “(Y/N) is attempting to try every restaurant in New York City.  I think it’s impossible, but she’s determined.”

“Who is (Y/N)?” Archie inquired, popping his head into the camera’s view.  

Jughead laughed, “Where do I begin?  She’s my ‘counterpart’ for the internship.  We’ve become very close.”

“I told you,” Betty grinned. Jughead nodded.

“You were right,” he admitted.  “Right when I met her, I… I don’t know, it just felt like something clicked between us. We’re inseparable.”  Betty’s expression slightly darkened, but Jughead waved it off as a bit off jealousy.

“Ah, you’ve got it bad, bro,” Archie laughed at his best friend.  Jughead rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like that, Arch,” he explained.  “It’s like Betty said, you grow really close to people when you spend so much time together.”

“But you don’t blush when you talk about them,” Veronica noted, pointing out Jughead’s dusty pink cheeks.

“You’re imagining things,” Jughead scoffed.  Betty, Archie, and Veronica shared a knowing glance.

“If you say so,” Veronica sing-songed.  Before Jughead could respond, there was a knock on his door.  A smile subconsciously grew on his face.

“Speaking of (Y/N),” he said, standing up and walking towards the door.  He opened it, and, as expected, (Y/N) stood there.

“Are we going or not, Jug?” she pressed, grabbing his hand.  “I told you the line for the rainbow bagels is super long.  I don’t want to spend all of Saturday waiting for one, even though they’re so fucking pretty.”

“I’m video chatting with my friends right now,” Jughead told her, gesturing towards his open laptop. “Can you wait like five more minutes?”

“Fine,” (Y/N) huffed, crossing her arms.  She stepped into his room, allowing him to close the door behind her.  She followed him as he sat back down in front of his laptop, resting her chin on his shoulder as she peered at the screen. “These are your friends?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “That’s Archie,” he gestured towards the redhead, “the blonde one is Betty, and that one is Veronica.”  (Y/N) smiled at Jughead’s Riverdale friends.

“You must be (Y/N),” Betty smiled.  “Jughead was just talking about you.”

“Of course he was,” (Y/N) joked, nudging his arm.  Jughead playfully shoved her back.

“So how’s it been? Three months with the infamous Jughead Jones?” Veronica inquired with a smirk dancing on her lips.  

“Well it hasn’t been three months quite yet,” (Y/N) corrected her.  “I’ve only gotta deal with this guy for two more weeks.” Jughead’s face slightly deflated as this realization hit him.  “Let me tell you, he’s quite the handful.”

“We know,” Archie laughed. Jughead opened his mouth to say something, but (Y/N) interrupted him.

“Shit, I left my phone in my room!” she exclaimed, standing up.  “I’ll be right back, Jug.”  She turned and faced the laptop.  “It was great talking to you guys.  I hope we can meet sometime!”  She quickly exited Jughead’s room.  Immediately, Veronica, Archie, and Betty bombarded him about (Y/N)

“She’s perfect,” Veronica cooed.  “She’s actually flawless, Jughead.”

“You lucked out, bro,” Archie told him.  “She’s a keeper.”

“She’s absolutely amazing, Jughead,” Betty smiled.  Jughead grinned and shook his head.

“You guys, I told you-”

“Don’t even go there,” Veronica interrupted him.  “That girl is absolutely perfect for you.  The way you two look at each other is… it seems like it’s from a fairytale. You two are soulmates, Jughead.

“She does seem great, Jug,” Archie agreed with her.  “I mean, I’ve never seen you like that with anyone.  No offense, Betty.”

“None taken, Archie,” she waved his comment off.  “They’re right though, Jug.  You never looked at me the way you look at (Y/N).”  Jughead couldn’t think of a clever retort.  “But be careful, Jughead.  Like (Y/N) said earlier, you two only have two more weeks together. If you haven’t done anything up to this point, you might want to consider whether or not it’s worth it to start something now.  Just ask yourself, is it worth the heartbreak that’ll happen when you have to leave her?” She pursed her lips as she watched Jughead’s face darken on her screen.

“Thanks guys,” he said halfheartedly.  “Really, thank you.  I’ll see you all in two weeks.”

Tell me something, tell me something
You don’t know nothing, just pretend you do
Tell me something just before you go

“Our last day!” (Y/N) exclaimed, prancing into Jughead’s hotel room.  After the video call he had two weeks ago ended, he decided to give her a key to his room.  “Our internship is over, and we have one last night to spend together, Jug.  Out of every place in all of New York City, where do you want to go, Jughead Jones?” she asked seductively, a coy smirk growing on her face.

“I’m feeling burgers tonight,” Jughead answered, trying to stop his expression from deflating.  “And then maybe we can get some cupcakes?”

“I like it!” she grinned. She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the room, beginning the trek to their favorite restaurant.  “Jesus, I can’t believe it’s been three months already.”

“I know,” he agreed.  “It seems like my plane landed just yesterday.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) breathed. They spent the rest of their walk in silence, choosing to listen to the bustling New York traffic.  

The waitresses at the restaurant, at this point, knew Jughead and (Y/N) as regulars.  They didn’t even bother giving them menus, knowing exactly what each of them would order.

“You two are my favorites,” the waitress whispered as she set their burgers in front of them.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) grinned. “I’m sorry to say, but it’s our last day here.”

“Oh,” the waitress sighed. “Well, you two better visit.  I don’t know what I’ll do without my favorite regulars.”  She walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Jughead to enjoy their burgers.

“You know,” Jughead noted through a mouth full of burger, “I don’t know how you’ve tried almost every restaurant in New York City while becoming a regular here.”

“Talent, Jug,” she told him, wiping her mouth on a napkin.  “It takes a hell of a lot of talent.”

They finished dinner and went to their favorite bakery to get cupcakes.  On their walk back to the hotel, they fell into silence once again. It wasn’t broken until they entered Jughead’s hotel room.  By now, almost all of (Y/N)’s stuff ended up in here.  They found it easier, rather than constantly having to switch back and forth between rooms to grab their stuff.

“So that was our last day,” (Y/N) claimed, flopping onto the bed.  Jughead stood by the bedside, crossing his arms with an amused smile.

“Unfortunately, it was,” he nodded.  He jumped next to her on the bed, earning a shriek from (Y/N).  He swallowed as he stared at her, knowing what he had to tell her. “Do you remember what you said to me on the first day we met?”

“That I know where to go for whatever you’re craving,” she answered with a grin.  Jughead laughed and shook his head.

“No, the other thing.”

“I hope you’re not an asshole because we’re gonna be stuck together all summer?” she offered.  He shook his head again.

“Nope.”

“I called you quick-witted?”

“No!”

“What is it?” (Y/N) demanded, sitting up so that she was hovering over Jughead as he remained laying down.

“You told me that if we were together any longer than just the summer, I might fall in love with you,” he explained, sitting up so that they were face-to-face.  (Y/N)’s grin slightly faded.

“Oh,” she murmured.  “Yeah, I did say that.”

“You were wrong,” Jughead said, trying to keep his voice steady.  He slowly grabbed her right hand.

“Really?” she asked as her eyes followed Jughead’s hand.

“Betty told me to be careful,” he explained, “because we’re not gonna be together that long.  And she was right.  I mean, why would we risk an immense amount of heartbreak just for the sake of a blissful few weeks together?”  When (Y/N) said nothing, he continued.  “So I figured I could just suck it up and get through the rest of our time together and not say anything.  It was a good plan, but you… you ruined it.”

“Sorry,” she quipped with a small smirk.  Jughead lovingly rolled his eyes.

“No you’re not,” he laughed. “You’re not sorry, and you shouldn’t be. Within the three months we’ve spent together, I’ve grown closer to you than I ever have with anyone else.  Hell, my ex-girlfriend said that we were great together.”

“She did?”

“Yeah,” he responded, grabbing her hands.  “Jesus, (Y/N), I’m in love with you.  I’m fucking in love with you, and it sucks.  It sucks because I don’t know if I’m ever gonna see you again.  And this is gonna cause so much heartbreak, for me at least, and maybe you too.  I just… I can’t keep it from you anymore.  But I also think, deep down, you already knew how I felt.”  Tears clouded (Y/N)’s eyes, and her lips quivered as she quickly enveloped Jughead in a hug.

“Fuck,” she whispered into his neck.  “Fuck, of course I love you, Jughead.”  He pulled himself out of her grip and stared at her, stroking his hand across her cheek. They both leaned in, pressing their foreheads against each other.  Their lips ghosted over each other, only millimeters apart.

“If I kiss you-”

“If you kiss me, everything is gonna go to shit, Jug,” she interrupted him.  He nodded but didn’t pull away.  They sat there like that on his bed on a minute, (Y/N) sitting on Jughead’s lap with her arms around his neck, foreheads touching and lips barely brushing.

The tension grew unbearable, so (Y/N) closed the gap and pressed her lips against his, trying to express what she had been feeling for the past three months.  

Jughead, too, attempted to convey every pent up confession he had, wishing that kisses could speak. He wanted his hands, which were encircling her waist, to tell her how she charmed him with her wit.  He wanted his eyes, which were closed with pleasure, to tell her how beautiful she was, especially when she trudged into his hotel room at three in the morning.  He wanted his lips, which were pressed against hers, to tell her how much he loved her.  He loved her, he loved her, and he wanted to keep saying it for the rest of his life.

For the sake of oxygen, the two pulled apart.  They kept their foreheads resting against each other.  

“Everything’s gone to shit,” (Y/N) whispered, and Jughead burst out into laughter.  (Y/N) followed suit by giggling, and their still-entangled limbs caused them to fall onto the bed so that (Y/N) was laying on top of Jughead. This only caused the pair to laugh harder.  

When their chuckles finally died down, (Y/N) climbed off from on top of Jughead and laid next to him, resting her head on his chest.  She combed her hand through his raven locks.

“I’m sorry that I fell in love with you,” Jughead apologized, kissing the top of her head. They were slowly falling asleep.

“Thank you for falling in love with me,” (Y/N) whispered, eyes fluttering shut.  “It may have all gone to shit, but it was worth it.”

Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know

Jughead stepped off the plane and saw his dad and friends standing at the gate, excitedly waiting for him.  He didn’t say anything, he didn’t even bother smiling.  Immediately, everyone understood.  

While they were awaiting Jughead’s plane’s arrival, Betty, Veronica, and Archie explained to the rest of the group about (Y/N).  They told them about how Jughead spent three months falling in love with this girl, and they explained that they had never seen Jughead look so smitten before.  

“How was New York, Jug?” FP asked, taking Jughead’s suitcase from him.  Jughead shrugged.

“It was nice.”

“Good food?” he questioned, trying to get his son to open up.  Jughead nodded tiredly.

“Yeah, food was great,” he replied monotonously.

“And the internship?”

“Helpful,” Jughead responded.  “I think it’ll help me improve as a writer.”

“That’s good,” FP said, raking a hand through his hair.  “You had another person with you, right?”  FP noticed Jughead tense up at this.

“Yeah,” he answered quietly. “Yeah, I had a counterpart.”

“What was she like?” Jughead looked up at his dad.

“You already know who it is,” he replied, shaking his head.  “Who told you, Betty?”  FP pursed his lips.

“Yeah, her and Archie and Veronica.  But listen, Jug, you’re going to have your heart broken countless other times.  You’ll get over this girl,” he attempted to comfort Jughead.

“Dad, she wasn’t just a girl,” he protested.  “She was amazing and quick-witted, and I fell in love with her and then everything went to shit.  But the worst part is that it’s okay, because she loved me too.  She fucking loved me, and I kissed her, and now I may never see her again.”

“Well if you loved her that much, you may see her again,” FP shrugged.  “Fate is a tricky thing, son, but the universe seems to cooperate better if you love someone.”

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What’s up, it’s Alexei!

When Ngozi posted this picture yesterday of young post-draft Tater “trying his darnedest to answer press questions in English,” I thought, “You know, I could make a play fic out of that.” Which is what led to the following 2700+ words about Tater and his ESL tutor.

Many, many thanks to @ktheunready for being my Russian authenticity consultant and beta!


Georgia Martin stood at the back of the media scrum and watched Alexei Mashkov stumble his way through his post-draft interview, saw the way his fingers kneaded the brim of the brand-new Falconers’ cap he’d been handed for the initial official photos, saw the way his eyes widened and stayed intently glued to whoever was asking him a question, like he was afraid he’d miss some key bit of meaning if he blinked.

She pulled out her phone and made a call.

***

«No, Mama, I promise, my room is very nice. The family is very nice. Everything is very…»

«Let me guess, nice? »

Alexei sighed. «Yes.»

«You know I don’t doubt you, right, Alyosha? I’m not worried you can’t do this. You will be fine. But I know this is your first time to live in another country, with none of the boys from your teams here. It can be… hard, sometimes. I know.»

«Yeah, Mama, I know. You told me.»

«Are you telling me you’ve heard the stories of my youth too many times?» she asked in mock outrage.

«No, no!» he laughed. «Of course not.»

«Good. I should think not.» He could picture her face exactly, and it made him smile. «I’m glad your host family seems nice, Alyosha. I’m sure you will have many friends in no time.»

He flopped back on the bed again and stared at the ceiling. «I hope so.»

«We’ll talk again soon. Love you, son.»

«Love you, too.»

He hung up and let his phone rest on his chest. He’d been to America before. He’d thought he’d known what it would be like, that it wouldn’t be so bad. Different, yes, but there would be so many interesting new things to see, and new teammates, and he certainly knew how to play hockey. What he had failed to take into account, apparently, was how exhausting it was to try to function in English all day. For a US hockey team, the Falconers’ roster was shockingly low on Russian players, so his host family was one of the French Canadian ones. To their credit, they did speak some Russian, but it was hardly enough to have a real conversation. Alexei felt like he’d been practically mute all day.

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His || Jungkook || 0.17

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13| 0.14 | 0.15 | 0.16 | 0.17 |

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