his arms are almost

sometimes i remember that “we had a bonding moment i cradled you in my arms” is an actual thing keith has said. it’s not an headcanon, it’s not a fandom invention, it’s a thing. that he said. to lance. with his voice cracking and going high-pitched. he did done that. he needed lance to know, above all,  that he had cradled him in his arms. it’s almost been a year since vld s1 came out and i still can’t believe this is a real thing,,,, truly astonishing

“There’s a new wind blowing like I’ve never known, I’m breathing deeper than I’ve even done. And it sure feels good to finally feel the way I do…And I want to love somebody, love somebody like you.“ - Keith Urban, “Somebody like You”

HERE, HAVE SOME SIDLINK. ENJOY THESE TWO PRECIOUS WALNUTS.

This ship hit me so hard?? From the first time that adorable red sunflower jumped off the tower and begged for Link’s help he was doomed. If I can’t have Mipha/Link than BY ALL THAT IS HOLY SIDLINK WILL RULE! *throws confetti*

Sidon is just a warm, welcoming, sweet and amazing, comforting presence that Link needs?! And he’s just so excited to see him?! And helpful and everything he needs?! LET HIM TELL YOU HOW AMAZING YOU ARE LINK. AND HOW THANKFUL HE IS.

I just wanted to draw them dancing? Link so overcome with happiness over something and just started spinning Sidon around, haha. Link doesn’t get enjoy himself much, and I think Sidon would be quite happy to dance along with his smol boyfriend

Why does everything turn into wolfstar smut?

Originally posted by maria-tries

  • Maybe some time around the age of 16 Remus’s transformations stop leaving him weak and hollow
  • In fact, they start to have the opposite effect 
  • Not that Remus notices; as usual his brilliant mind is always quietly occupied
  • But Sirius notices
  • Merlin Sirius notices
  • It starts with his shoulders, he can’t help but eye the way they sit a little broader when Remus stands up straight 
  • Then it’s his forearms, Sirius can see the tendons stand out a little when Remus lies on the sofa and holds his book above his head. 
  • After the next full moon, it’s his biceps - they start pushing against his shirt when he leans over his potions essay, and Sirius’s mouth all but drops to the floor
  • Suddenly it’s hard to be around Remus, literally, without feeling a tightness growing in his trousers
  • The boys sit opposite each other in the library for hours, an endless pile of homework and exam prep leaving them caught in a dizzying cycle of work, eat, sleep
  • They all need some relief, but fuck Sirius needs a very specific kind of relief
  • Exams are so close, and he has to focus, but just a look at Remus could flick a switch in his body
  • Even his hands, somehow his hands look bigger, stronger
  • Sirius starts biting down hard on his lip each time his eyes drift to his boyfriend in class, or the library, or the common room (okay, just about everywhere)
  • But after half a day his bottom lip becomes red and puffy
  • Instead Sirius finds himself disappearing to the toilets to splash cold water on his face more often than he’d like to admit
  • When Remus’s arm winds protectively around him as they walk down a busy corridor, he has to bite back a whine
  • And when Remus strolls out of the shower one morning, a towel slung low around his hips, Sirius just sits and stares 
  • Because his chest, Christ his chest has transformed
  • And it was all Sirius could do not to go over there and beg Remus to deal with his painfully hard arousal, right there in front of James and Peter
  • And when Remus caught him, eyes roving greedily across his bare skin and freshly tousled hair, he just stared right back and winked
  • Sirius rolled over in bed and bit down so hard on his pillow he could have torn it apart
  • This day was particularly torturous, and it didn’t help that the summer heat had Remus loosening the top few buttons of his shirt
  • Or that, in transfiguration, his hand had been resting high on Sirius’s thigh the whole time Frank was explaining petrification. 
  • Or that, as they walked to the library, Remus slid Sirius’s bag from his shoulder and slung it easily across his own, winding an arm around his waist 
  • By time they sat down Sirius was almost at breaking point, his frustration had his heart beating overtime and his head cloudy 
  • He cast his eyes down, trying desperately to ignore his boyfriend’s newly broadened shoulders, or his tight, hard chest
  • Or the way his arms looked when he stretched out like that, fuck
  • Sirius’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood up, muttering half an excuse about the bathroom 
  • He didn’t feel connected to his feet as they carried him through the library, eyebrows furrowed and head fuzzy
  • He didn’t notice Remus until his fingers were locked around his wrists, and his whole body tugged sideways
  • Sirius’s soft moan of surprise was muffled by Remus’s lips, which collided with his before he could even gather his surroundings
  • Remus’s hand travelled to Sirius’s neck, his thumb pressing gently into the soft skin, while his other grasped at his hips
  • Sirius thought his legs would give way at any moment 
  • Just as abruptly as it began, Remus drew away, focusing his burning eyes on Sirius
  • “You keep disappearing.” He murmured “And you won’t look at me.”
  • He pressed a thumb to Sirius’s puffy bottom lip “You’re not telling me something Sirius.”
  • Again, Remus’s hand slid back to Sirius’s neck, a gentle pressure aiding the fuzzy euphoria Sirius felt at his touch
  • Tell me.” He growled. 
  • When his face blurred back into view, an almost delirious Sirius saw Remus’s expression harden
  • “I can take it.” He said, lowly
  • Sirius frowned, still breathless, resisting the urge to buck his hips into Remus’s warm, gorgeous body 
  • “It’s you.” He murmured, looking down
  • Suddenly, inexplicably, he felt ashamed
  • “You’ve changed and I can’t - I can’t cope. It’s not that I didn’t like you before, I love you whatever you - what ever you look like - and you were always gorgeous, but now you’re just, you’re just kind of perfect and it’s just” Remus’s proximity making Sirius almost incoherent.
  • “…it’s just your shoulders got bigger, and your arms, and I can’t stop, I can’t focus and I know you just want to work and there’s no time for it so I was trying not to bother you but fuck Remus.”
  • “What?” Remus’s hand tilted Sirius’s chin up, forcing him to meet his confused gaze. 
  • Sirius shuttered under his boyfriend’s newly bulky frame
  • “You’re not…” Remus frowned. “I thought you liked someone else.”
  • Sirius nearly choked. “What?” He spluttered.  
  • “Remus” He snapped, taking control and pushing himself closer to the boy. “I can’t focus on anything but you. I can’t study, I can’t sleep, I can’t look at you in class without…” Sirius groaned and pushed his hips against Remus, using his hard arousal to illustrate his point. 
  • Sirius pressed frantic kisses into to the soft skin on Remus’s neck. “And when you came out of the shower today…”
  • Sirius’s sentence ended in a gasp as his back hit a smooth, cool wall. Remus’s warm mouth was at his neck, his hands pressing down his sides, their bodies flush against each other
  • “Why didn’t you tell me?” Remus growled. “Why didn’t you let me help you?”
  • Sirius only moaned in response as Remus’s thigh found its way between his legs, pressing teasingly against him
  • “Sirius.” Remus growled again. “Why?”
  • “You were…busy.” Sirius groaned, feeling Remus grip his chin. 
  • “Look at me.” Remus ordered, his eyes burning. “I am never too busy for you, Sirius Black.”
  • Sirius looked at his boyfriend, panting. His hips bucked into Remus, and he tried to connect their lips again, but he felt a strong hand push him back, denying him.
  • “Now, say it back to me.” Ordered Remus. “I’m never too busy to fuck you, say it back.”
  • Sirius shuttered, Remus telling him what to do was just, fuck
  • “You’re never too busy to fuck me.” Sirius’s need was turning his voice into a desperate whine, but Remus didn’t move.
  • His eyes burned into Sirius’s, and his voice was low and threatening. “Next time you need me, you’re going to tell me, okay? You’re going to say: ‘Remus, I need you to fuck me now.’ And I’m then going to fuck you, okay?” 
  • Sirius’s eyes almost rolled upwards, his whole body was trembling.
  • “Remus,” Sirius managed to whisper, somewhat calmly. “I need you to fuck me now.”
  • Sirius shuttered as he felt Remus grip the back of his thighs, easily lifting Sirius up and pressing him against the wall, his legs now hooked around his waist.
  • “Good boy.” Remus whispered.
Why People Fall In Love

Muses: Jeon Jungkook.
Words: 4.7k words of cringe worthy fluff.
Type: fwb!au + fake dating!au
Note: This is another my ‘to be posted’ scenarios, posted.  Yay. :D

+ An agreement to become Jungkook’s fake girlfriend and a trip back to his hometown lets you see more of the Jeon Jungkook who you think is only made of Friday hookups and boyish charms.

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin


“So let me get this straight, your brother’s bringing his girlfriend home for dinner this weekend and you ‘sorta’ blurted out that you have a girlfriend too just because you want to prove that he’s wrong about you not being able to keep a girl?”

Sheepishly, Jungkook smiles and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorta.”

At his nonchalance, you lightly smack his chest; it’s not like he’s going to feel anything if you straight out punch him anyway. “He’s totally right!”

Keep reading

@whoacanada posted this, and I’ve seen it a few times now, and finally caught a bit of time so this happened. also tagging @especially-shitty @audiaphilios @pale-silver-comb and @rhysiana who I’ve either seen reblog this, or think will enjoy it. Maybe a birthday present for @iboatedhere too.

******

There’s a figure skating exhibition in Montréal which Bob is guest announcing at, so the whole Zimmermann fam goes to watch.

Jack is still in his in between phase of adolescence, not quite grown into his limbs, face still rounded with the last bits of stubborn childhood fat. His whole body still a little too large, and his confidence bowed under the extra weight and his blooming anxiety about his future, his sexuality, and life as the child of two incredibly successful, beautiful people.

But underneath that, is a clever, witty, ridiculous flirty man waiting for an opportunity to present itself.

Enter one Eric R. Bittle. Just over five and a half feet of lean muscle and able to move it all with a speed and grace that leaves Jack breathless. Watching Eric skate, watching him bring the story of his music to life in sweeping arcs and gravity defying jumps and spins, is a revelation. Jack loses himself in the sparkling whirlwind of movement and glowing blond hair that is Eric Bittle.

When his routine ends, in a glorious final spin that leaves Eric with outstretched arms and his head thrown back, a triumphant smile on his face, Jack is mesmerized by the line of Eric’s neck and the way he can see the heavy breaths Eric is taking. Jack can feel his heart beating in time with the rise and fall of Eric’s chest. When Eric looks up, he looks radiant, and he looks right at Jack. The full impact of his smile hits Jack right in the gut.

He must make a sound, because Alicia looks at him with a knowing gleam in her eyes and asks “Ça'va, cher?” Jack can only nod, eyes glued to Eric’s figure as he makes his way off the ice. He misses Alicia’s grin, but takes comfort in the arm she wraps around his shoulder, difficult with the way he’s almost taller than her now, even at 16, but still nice.

He’s not entirely sure how, but he ends up in the hallway outside the locker room with his parents. Bob is talking with the skaters as they come out, Jack mostly a silent presence, making awkward attempts at conversation when addressed and getting slightly irritated at the way everyone looks at him like he’s adorable despite them mostly being not much older than him. (He’d checked Eric’s age at least, and was incredibly pleased that he was the same age.)

Then, Eric is just. There. In front of him. Smiling that same sunshiny smile that is even more spectacular up close. From this close, Jack can see the warm honey and bourbon flecks in Eric’s big brown eyes, and how they radiate kindness. He feels like he’s taking up too much space, feels all the clumsiness in his limbs that only seems to disappear when he’s playing hockey.

When Eric speaks, his accent catches Jack off guard, but in a good way. It makes him feel warm and soft, and he hopes he isn’t blushing.

“Hello Mr and Mrs Zimmermann, it is such an honor to meet you! I’ve followed both of your careers, and y'all are such an inspiration!” Eric’s exuberance makes Jack smile, he feels it stretch across his face and can’t even be embarrassed about it because when Eric looks at him Jack sees it reflected back at him.

“Oh. Hello! You’re Jack, right? The next Zimmermann to watch out for?” He says it with sincerity, and a hint of a chirp, and Jack doesn’t feel any of the pressure he usually does when people talk about his legacy.

He takes just a second too long to reply, and his dad nudges his arm a little to get his attention. He catches a smirk on Bob’s face in his peripheral vision, and a quick wordless exchange between his parents, and has a sudden flash of his dad telling him about how he wooed his mom by speaking to her in French at any given opportunity.

So when Jack responds, a second or two past what’s strictly socially acceptable but not so long it’s awkward, he can only say “Bonjour, Eric,” as he presents his hand, almost sighing when Eric slips his own surprisingly soft hand into Jack’s, shaking it with a firm grip and a smile still on his face. “Vous étiez incroyable.”

He’s vaguely aware that he should be mortified, but Eric’s cheeks turn a delightful pink and it makes something in Jack want to rise to the challenge of keeping the color there.

“Oh my,” Eric laughs, “You can call me Bitty, Jack. Though I must admit my French is terrible, merci beaucoup.” His accent is quite awful, really, but when Jack notices their hands are still together, that they’re just holding hands now, he can only grin wider.

“De rien, Bitty.” Bitty looks down slightly, notices their hands and his eyes widen. He looks up at Jack from under his impressively thick lashes with a look of wonder on his face.

Bitty mutters what sounds like “Oh, lord,” and Jack chuckles under his breath.

Jack couldn’t agree more. So he squeezes Bitty’s hand and says just quietly enough that Bitty has to lean in a little “D’accord.”

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 2

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Growing up, people told Y/n that you could die from a broken heart—that the stress on your heart strings could weaken, and all that’s left is the pain in your chest.

Y/n thought her heart would fail her, rupture all that’s left of her and leave her body to decompose. She believed that, if her broken heart wasn’t going to kill her, loneliness and lack of sleep would push her towards her end.

Moving on—something that seemed so simple yet so impossible for Y/n to do.

When the hurt in her chest and the hallucinations from exhaustion started to become too much for her to handle, she was willing to do anything to help herself. She started taking up yoga sessions, started writing music, even started cooking in an attempt to bring herself back from whatever hell she was in.

She even considered moving on; meeting a man at a bar and getting to know more about him rather than his drink order. But something seemed so wrong about that—something was unsettled inside of her at the thought of being with someone who wasn’t Harry.

The image of Jessica in Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt was enough to haunt her nearly every hour of the day. She started going mental, constantly wondering what they were doing together in the moments she was most vulnerable. She wondered about their love life, their future, their interests. She thought about everything.

It wasn’t until Gabby was determined to mend the broken girl raiding her house, finding any possible excuse to give her a sense of life again, that Y/n found the slightest bit of hope.

Y/n was losing it, entirely, and Gabby refused to continue being a bystander.

Gabby had set Y/n up on a blind date only a couple weeks back, practically begging her to seize every opportunity she possibly can to get over Harry. It was all Gabby could do to help her, considering nothing quite helped Y/n’s well-being since the breakup.


“Oh, he’s just so perfect!” Gabby squealed, clapping her hands before gripping tightly around Y/n’s wrists in excitement. “He’s gorgeous! Amazing blue eyes—breathtaking, really! And he’s so sweet, Y/n! I haven’t met a single person who’s disliked him and he’s such an amazing photographer! And his teeth! His teeth are marvelous! Do you know how hard it is nowadays to find a man with nice teeth? I mean—“

By then, Y/n had dozed off, and it wasn’t for any personal reason against Gabby; she’s appreciated every bit of hard work to help her through the heartbreak Y/n’s been dealing with nearly half of a year now. It’s just that she wasn’t ready to move on, not that she didn’t want to.

It had been nearly five months, which may seem like such an abundance of time to rid feelings for somebody, but did time really help moving on from someone she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with? It seemed nearly impossible. She could barely see herself looking at other men in a romantic sense, how could she see herself going on a date with somebody? Especially when she was still in love with somebody else?

She was biting the bullet with letting time heal her, but she felt that was the only way. Nothing more could help her. If anything, she believed dating would make it worse, if she were being honest.

But the look of excitement Gabby had at the mere thought of Y/n being happy again was something Y/n found nearly impossible to resist. Besides, she had definitely been overstaying her welcome at Gabby’s house no matter how much Gabby’s tried to deny it and has put so much stress onto her that maybe, just maybe, doing this one favor for all that she’s done for her.

“So, what do you say?”

Y/n blinked harshly when Gabby’s voice drowned out all the scrambled thoughts in her head, shaking her head slightly to regain her understanding of reality.

“What?”

“Monmouth Coffee Shop at noon tomorrow. Dan really wants to meet you, Y/n! Please!”

Y/n’s eyes widened, snapping her head up to meet Gabby’s hopeful eyes.

“The Monmouth?! Are you crazy?! That’s Harry’s favorite coffee shop, you know that! Dan and Harry probably know each other, that’s how much he goes there!”

Gabby’s eyes narrowed as her lips pursed, gaze directing toward the ceiling in thought.

“Harry? Harry who? I don’t remember who that is, never heard that name in my life.”

Her tone reeked with sarcasm, which made Y/n’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. As much as she wished Gabby’s negative remarks about Harry were comedic, there was always something about them that infuriated her. She always supposed it was the instinctual aspect of loving someone so much.

Gabby sighed as she reached her hand up to rub Y/n’s shoulder gently.

“Look,” she began, “you’re my best friend and I hate seeing you like this. You’re not the same Y/n I always knew, and I think you see yourself that way, too. And in all honesty, I don’t give a fuck about Harry anymore. As sadistic and twisted as it sounds, I don’t care about his emotions, or how he feels. He did this to you. He killed a part of you and I feel it’s my obligation to help you through this. So, please, go out with Dan tomorrow. He works at Monmouth, he’ll meet you before his shift starts at 1:30.”

Gabby’s arm slid off of Y/n’s shoulder at the shadow of uncertainty behind her eyes. Even though Gabby understood all the pain and hesitation, she didn’t want to see Y/n suffer another day. She just couldn’t.

“Please,” she whimpered, “Dan has been the only sense of hope I’ve gotten to make you happy again. Just do this one thing, please? And if it doesn’t work, then you can blame me. I’m just trying here.”

Y/n coughed slightly, her inability to say no wearing off of her at Gabby’s desperate pleads. It was an opportunity to turn things back around in her life, and if it didn’t go as planned, she really didn’t have anything more to lose.

She nods her head softly.

“Yeah—yeah, okay. I’ll meet him.”

Maybe this would be good for her.


Dan is lovely, always caring for Y/n and making sure she feels like loyalty whenever she’s around. He puts her first, in everything, and made a rule that the date can’t end until I hear you laugh at least six times.

It’s cute, really, how effortless he is at giving someone so much attention. Y/n likes it—loves it, even, but it still never feels right to her. She sees something with him, but nothing long term, not in the way she sees Harry.

But he’s good for her now, when she’s at her worst and needs someone to be there for her. He’s able to provide her with the company she desperately needs in order to cure the possible fatalities that came with her broken heart.

“Thank you for the coffee, it was great.” Y/n smiles softly, her cheeks blushing slightly as she traces the rim of her coffee cup.

It’s nearly their tenth date, and they still meet at the Monmouth at noon before his shift. It’s become a routine for them, meeting together at noon before Dan drops her off at the parking station. It became something they both looked forward to throughout their week, and soon became more of a tradition between them.

Dan grins, almost instinctively wrapping his arms around Y/n’s shoulders so that her head makes rest on his chest. He sighs, pressing a small kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin where his lips once were.

“Of course. I’ll be getting out at around 6 o‘clock so maybe I can stop by for a few? Maybe watch a movie?”

He knows the answer before she says it—his constant attempts to get closer to her always seeming to fail. There’s always a hesitation, or always an excuse to prevent them from being alone together.

He’s well aware that there are parts of her that need to be fixed, still being completely destructed by her ex-lover. He’s tried tirelessly to get her to open up and to trust him, but there’s a thick barrier still in their way of each other. It disheartens him, to know she refuses to let him in.

She sighs, guilt evident in her breath as she softly pushes away from him.

She does that often, he’s noticed it.

She feels horrible for doing so every time. Everything between them has remained stagnant, nothing being built so that nothing could be knocked down. It’s not that Y/n doesn’t trust him, it’s that Y/n doesn’t trust herself. She’s still in love with someone else, and she can’t hurt Dan—not in that way.

“I think I’m just going to—“

“Yeah, I know.” Dan nods, arms moving to cross at his chest, “I get it. Just like every other time.”

Y/n reaches her shaking fingers to brush her hair behind her ear, guilt flashing in her eyes as she refuses to meet his gaze. She’s familiar with the look he has on his face well enough to know he’s upset again, being constantly shut down by her.

“I’m so sorry, Dan.” She whispers, “But I’m trying. I want to keep trying with you. If you let me.”

He looks unconvinced, as he’s been hearing this for a while now. But something inside of him can’t quit her, no matter how much his intuition tells him she’s a dead end. Maybe he feels sorry for her on a level he’s never felt sorrow for somebody else. No matter how much she hides it, she really does need him. Not in a romantic level, but she does need him to show her that he cares for her and that he’ll always be there. She needs that sense of security, and he’s the only one that can provide it for her.

“Yeah,” he nods, “we can keep trying. It’s okay, I’m here for you.“


Harry had been living in his studio for the past couple of weeks. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but it was much better than sleeping on his and Y/n’s bed—alone.

That’s all he’s felt since their break up—lonely. It’s quite strange, considering Harry had millions of supporters, an entire band throughout his solo career, and producers around him nearly every hour of the day. He used to complain that he never had alone time anymore, that between all the constant traveling and being at the peak of his career, it was hard to find time for himself.

But now, in the midst of everything happening in his life, he wishes to feel that sort of hustle again.

Y/n was the person that kept him grounded through everything. She was the one consistency in his life, which gave him all the more reasons to love her. Whenever he was overwhelmed with the pressure put on him, or feeling homesick during his travels, she was always the one to keep him at bay and give him a sense of clarity.

Home hadn’t become a house, instead, Y/n’s heart. Wherever she was, he felt at home. Even when she was half way across the world, it was her voice that brought him back and reminded him that, no matter how much he missed the walls of familiarity, home was always a phone call away. She gave him that sense of comfort everywhere she went, it was truly amazing.

And when he broke up with Y/n, he didn’t think of how much everything around him would be affected. He thought time would do them best—would help mend the relationship that seemed to be collapsing beneath their feet. Their connections were lost, replaces by uncomfortable silences and unbarring arguments.

He didn’t think of the consequences when he did it. He didn’t think about how lost he’d become, or how he had no place to call home, or how there was no consistency in his life anymore. There were so many aspects of his life that Y/n had given him—so much of them that he didn’t realize until she moved out.

It was the exact reason he started dating Jessica. She was a great distraction, a beautiful woman to take his mind off of everything.

They weren’t much of anything. Nothing about them was exclusive besides what the media saw of them: boyfriend and girlfriend moving in together in London. It was far from the truth, really. He was with her to terminate his dry spell and rid his loneliness, and she was with him because he infatuated her.

He ended it all, though, that same morning Y/n found Jessica wearing their shirt. The entire incident gave him a realization; that nobody could fill his void like Y/n did.

The fear of losing her forever and making her believe he was in love with somebody else was enough to break him out of his selfish ways. She had been waiting for him for months, and when he returned, he wasn’t the same man he was.

Not only did Harry know that Y/n lost all her faith in him—he lost all faith in himself, as well.


“I’m so screwed, Nick. I fucked up everything. Everything.”

Harry was laying with his back flat against the studio couch, hands rubbing down his face as he tried to steady his harsh breathing.

It was just after he had run into Y/n at the grocery store, where she had seen Jessica wearing Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt. Although he was practically mute during the encounter, everything hit him at once after Y/n and Gabby walked out.

He called Nick in a hurry, incoherent and completely disoriented from the tears he’d broken down into. Everything he thought would be mended completely fell down on them—all because of him.

“Jessica was wearing the shirt with the—fuck, you know the shirt, and Y/n saw and she was such a mess, Nick. I didn’t even say anything to her, she was practically begging me to say something and I didn’t say a word.”

Nick sat cross-armed on one of the chairs, directly across from Harry. He wished he could have felt remorse seeing Harry in such distress, however, he never agreed with Harry’s actions and made it clear numerous times. In his eyes, this was karma’s ticking time bomb.

“You tend to be a real jackass sometimes, you know that?”

Harry lifted himself up so that he could sit properly. His body slumped against the back of the couch, head rested in his palm as he coughed uncomfortably at Nick’s choice of words.

“You let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you and then you just move on, as if she meant nothing, and you think you just fucked it all up now? Over the goddamn t-shirt?”

Harry scowled at him.

“I haven’t moved on, and it’s more than just a t-shirt, you know that. That was ours.” Harry defended, glaring over at his direction.

“So why was Jessica wearing it after you fucked her on the bed you and Y/n shared every night for the past three years?”

Something about Nick’s words gave Harry a foul taste in his mouth. As much as he wished Nick didn’t say it in that way, that’s exactly what Harry did, and knowing he had to live with that for the rest of his life made his stomach flip inside of him.

He really did fuck it up. Nothing he did was excusable, nothing he did was forgivable. He betrayed the one woman he loved so dearly—the one woman he’d always consider his soulmate. He really, really fucked it up.

He gulped as he tried to find words to justify himself. There was really nothing he could say.

“She—she had just put it on while I was sleeping and when—when I noticed she just wouldn’t shut up about breakfast and I couldn’t just be like ‘Hey, Jess, could you take off that shirt? That belonged to me and my ex-girlfriend and I don’t appreciate it?’ How could I do that?”

He sighed, leaning his face into the palm of his hands as he looked back onto his experiences with Jessica. Was it all worth it? Was she really worth all of this?

“She means nothing to me, Nick. I lost the girl I love for somebody who doesn’t mean anything to me.” He whispered, “How do I live knowing that?”


It’s nearly two in the afternoon when Harry finally decides to leave his studio. He’s been working on some songs he found himself writing during his free time, something he found therapeutic throughout the past couple of months.

Recording and writing have become the only distractions that seem to work for Harry. Everything else became temporary. Writing out his emotions and singing the words he wishes he could say has been the only sense of closure he’s had in a while.

“Dan! Long time no see!” Harry smiles when he enters Monmouth, a familiar face being something he finds so relieving.

Dan looks up from his register, reaching over the counter to give Harry a hug as he greets him enthusiastically.

“Haven’t seen you in quite a while. On your lunch break?”

Harry nods as his eyes squint, reaching for the back of his neck as he reads over the menu.

“Yeah, kind of in a hurry today if you don’t mind. Can I just get a medium coffee with almond milk, please? And a slice of apple pie, feeling kind of brisk today.”

Dan works his fingers across the cash register, yelling out his order to the barista before making small talk about the weather. Considering Harry hasn’t been seen in Monmouth nearly as much as he used to, they both found it nice to catch up with each other for the short while they’ve been distanced.

When Dan reaches over to give Harry his spare change, an all too familiar silver ring catches his attention immediately. At first glance, he swears his heart stopped beating.

There’s no way, there’s just no way that could be the ring Harry gave to Y/n. Dan and Y/n have never met before, considering she had only visited here a handful of times during Harry’s lunch break. And even then, she would just stand patiently by the door while Harry waited to retrieve his order.

There’s just no way, but the top of the rose has a particular rust on it that resembles Harry’s perfectly—and no matter how long it’s been since he’s seen it, he’ll never forget what it looks like.

Harry’s hand grips onto Dan’s wrist instead of reaching out to grab the spare change laying upon his palm, flipping over his hand to inspect the silver ring snug almost too perfectly around his finger. He’s aggressive, movements harsh and face tight with anger, but at this point in time, the last thing Harry’s worried about is Dan’s slightly intimidated composure.

“Where did you get this?”

Unlike his demeanor, his voice is soft and breaking between each word. There’s an unrecognizable shift in his eyes when he sees the wear and tear Harry knows he caused before gifting it to Y/n. This is most definitely his, and knowing Y/n was the one who gave it to him makes him nearly throw up all the contents in his stomach.

“Girlfriend gave it to me,” Dan smiles “well, not really my girlfriend yet. But you know how they are. I told her I liked it and she insisted I have it.”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, making him nearly whimper when he opens his mouth to speak.

He’s never felt so much pain before. The breaking that was once only in his heart spread like wildfire across every bone and ligament in his body. It burns, the sudden realization that Y/n has a boyfriend, that Y/n is no longer going to be there—waiting for him—the way he always expected her to be, that Y/n has taken it upon herself to seek revenge on him so that he can feel everything she felt that one Sunday morning at the grocery store.

And it’s then he realizes that this is nothing compared to everything he’s put her through. In his favor, this is just a stupid ring her gave her for her birthday because he loved the way she twisted it around his finger. It didn’t have much value between them, just something small they shared. He couldn’t imagine the hurt he would have now, standing her, if Dan were wearing their Lover t-shirt.

“Wh—What’s her name?”

His voice is in a whisper now, only the slightest bit of hope draining from his body when he hears Dan speak again.

“Y/n. She’s a good girl, you’d like her.”

Harry almost laughs. You’d like her. He has no idea, he’s in love with her.

It’s as if every part of Harry’s body begins to shut down. Maybe it’s from the shock, or the overbearing pain he feels in his chest, but he suddenly begins to feel lightheaded. His muscles turn numb and all his orientation seems to scramble as if he’s intoxicated.

Dan’s eyes narrow when he sees all the color drain from his face, his eyes widened and soaked with tears. He watches as he nearly falls backward, only to balance himself with his foot when he takes a proper step away from the counter.

“Harry? Harry, you alright?”

Never fucking say my name again is the first proper thought that his brain can register. But his throat is tight and his tongue is numb. He attempts to take a breath of air, but he feels like his lungs are collapsing in his chest, preventing him from doing anything besides stumble uncoordinatedly out of the Monmouth doors.

He’s falling apart—that’s exactly what it feels like. He feels like every limb is falling from his body as he walks towards his car. He doesn’t know exactly how he’s moving, even if he’s stumbling on his own two feet and colliding into stranger’s bodies as he does so, he doesn’t understand how his body finds the strength to keep moving.

Y/n moved on. Y/n’s dating Dan. Y/n gave his ring to him. It’s all over, everything is over.

“No” he mumbles frantically, jealously flowing in his veins, chest heaving from the sobs that are threatening to spill out of him, “no, no no no.”

He starts to wonder where he’s missed it, and exactly how long it’s been since Y/n moved on. She was so broken at the grocery store the other week; what could have possibly altered her feelings that quickly? Did Dan really impact her that much?

But that’s his girl. Y/n is his girl, she’s the one he was so sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Even with Jessica, even with everything that’s happened, Y/n is his soulmate, and there isn’t anything in the world that can convince him otherwise.

Nobody is going to take her from him. He refuses to believe she belongs to somebody that isn’t him; there isn’t an atom in his body that doubts their companionship.

Before he thinks twice—before he really gives himself a chance to stop himself—Harry slides his cell phone out of his back pocket once he reaches his car. He slumps against the hood as his fingers work furiously across his screen.

There has to be something, at least some sort of proof that this is really happening to him, that this isn’t in a nightmare he can easily wake himself out of. There had to have been a hint, a warning for him to have. She would have never moved on without saying something to him. They were so strong together, she would have never left without closure.

Nothing about it makes sense.

And then, he sees it.

He falls to his knees, hitting the concrete harshly below him. His body gave out from beneath him, his muscles and bones failing him.

It’s there, right in front of him, mocking him and all the shitty decisions he’s made. It’s there—on Y/n’s private Instagram page—a picture of Dan holding Y/n’s hand on top of a table in Monmouth, Harry’s ring wrapped perfectly around his pointer finger.

Steele rose has never looked so good xx.

Writing is Hard, part 7: The Shower

Summary: Dean doesn’t appreciate the story you write about your first time.

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

Warning: Smut, awkward sex gone wrong (but it gets fixed!)

Word Count: 3000ish

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


It’s a little sweaty when you wake up. Dean’s on his stomach with his face turned away from you, snoring a tiny bit, his body sprawling over the king-sized bed and leaving you curled up in one tiny little corner.

He does look good, though. The sunlight can’t get through the curtains, but you left a lamp on, and the muscles of his back are all exposed in the dim light. You lean up to get a better view and appreciate him fully, and instantly groan. Your muscles hurt. Apparently, you’ve been curled up in knots all night, and you desperately need to stretch out.

Keep reading

Defects (M)

Muses: jungkook x reader
Genre: Angsty angst angst
Warning: mentions of cheating, sex (it’s all over the place) and plain old defect in the soulmate system.
Words: 4.1k
Note: Wrote all this Jungkook’s cover, Beautiful, a Goblin OST is on replay.

Concept: Every time you meet your soulmate, your pocket watch will start counting down the time you have with them until you part. For the amount of time you’re away from each other, whether it’s a month, a day, or just hours, the time is at a pause as your watch stares back at you with unmoving hands on the 12th hour. When you meet again, the countdown restarts.

Summary: Your watch comes alive in Jungkook’s presence, but often time, never as long as you will it to be no matter how hard you pray to the fates. The moments with him are fleeting and brief like the akin-to magical seconds you spend watching the cityscape buzz to life on nights you can’t sleep - nights Jungkook isn’t there to kiss your worries away and disappear like the wind blowing through cities at the break of dawn. When your the hands on your watch stills with glaring zeroes, you know where he’s at, you know who he’s with - he goes back to her, the woman who his time starts and ends with.

Originally posted by nnochu

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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The Jacket

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Smut, spanking, sergeant kink, metal arm kink

A/N: So I started writing Chapter 5 of Capable but got distracted by this Sinful Sunday™ post by @bucky-plums-barnes and really wanted to write it. So here, have some smut.


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Quickly (Smut)

MASTERLIST

Request: Airplane sex and some fluff.  

Word count: 4,5745

Faint, slightly irritating rumbling sounds rang in my ears, slowly pulling me out of my otherwise heavy sleep and forced my sore eyes to blink a few times, before being able to open them fully. At first, everything seemed blurry and the noises surrounding me seemed rather unfamiliar. 

Slowly, waking up fully, I found myself laying in Shawn’s lap with my feet across the empty seat, I should have been sitting in. 

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