#but even middle schoolers were able to look past that and see how genuinely fucking cool that was!

[heartburstings]

do u ever see comments on posts and artwork full of effort and thought and passion etc and like. think about that post that talks about how people have the darndest time interacting with art without trying to crack a joke about it. is it really so boring to take someone's art seriously? is it necessary to demean someone's efforts, however unintended, for a 'joke' that consists of you being like "ooOOoOh how weird lol!!" like i don't want or mean to be a killjoy. but i think about that post a lot. like y do u need to add a punchline to something that doesn't need one. who asked u. why does it need to be funny. and u don't even have the decency to acknowledge its merit ;/

#wynn speaks #don't get me wrong i love being silly it's 1 of my most valued traits #but like. idk. #imagine seeing a genuinely cool animation of how a feathered dinosaur might look in a jurassic park-esque movie #and you comment that it looks like a big bird creepypasta. like rlly u couldn't keep that to urself? #sorry it's probably not that serious. i'm just extremely petty and that comment annoyed me and now i am in my petty mode #i went to check the artist out (they're on twitter @wobblyworks) and turns out dinosaurs is their Whole Thing #tbh the feathered dino animation reminds me of like #so i went to this science museum to chaperone my little sister n her classmates and they had this fun li'l thing #where a guy was in basically a full-body puppet which was a feathered t-rex #and they treated it like a 'real' t-rex while talking abt dino facts #they let kids throw a light ball at it to 'play' w it it was very cute #and like you could See the puppetteer u could see their legs and shoes and stuff #but even middle schoolers were able to look past that and see how genuinely fucking cool that was! #like yes they made jokes abt the sneakers and how a human crawled out the rex when the show was over and they had to put the suit away #but they were in so much genuine aw it was rlly cute. and it makes sense bc the suit was really well made! it had a moving mouth/jaw #and i wouldn't be surprised if it had a mechanism to blink its eyes #but i digress #i'm not saying that u can Only interact with art with complete seriousness. like jokes r fine #but idk. becomes a problem when that is the only way u interact with art. and also if you're unfunny and personally annoy me #and i'm not saying that person is the kind of person to do that. bc idk them. i'm just like #kind of annoyed with seeing repeat instances of comments that r like 'hmm this art... what if i made it about how funny i am!'' #i say kind of but then i look up and there is an entire wall of tags that r just me griping about it and a detour about a dino puppet suit #sorry besties i just needed to get that out of my system ily <3 #btw the dude's part of a project/kickstarter called 'forgotten bloodlines' #and it seems to be an animated documentary about prehistoric creatures #i recommend u check out the trailer it looks soo cool

[nolzo]

posting my akuma class + quantic kids headcanons because i have strong opinions about a lot of them pt 3:

akuma class - adrien, nino, alya, lila, & marinette

adrien agreste

- white french or wasian

- he/they prns

- hes the pretty boy hes also literally a model in canon so.

- in salts hes spineless and like a coward but hes also sometimes becomes really fucking rude and like controlling and stubborn which i dont see?? but im also not a big fan of adrien salt

- however them in canon is kinda crazy. in derision they apparently almost cataclysms kim over a prank from a year ago?? so yeah i can see irrational a little

- i ship him with nino in a classic friends to lovers or they both end up in a qpr. yea chloe is technically his first friend but i doubt it was bc they wanted to be friends and more bc of proximity

- im not a particular fan of adrienette either mostly bc i dont like their dynamic. like ive seen similar dynamics and i get the hype kind of, but . i dont like them tgt. not even in fanon. i also am like allergic to canon hetero ships sorry its a disease

nino lahiffe

- black and arab

- they/he prns

- i only hate the salt fanon version of them theyre like a bitch in salts for no reason

- he has locs, past his ears like close to his jaw. he keeps his headphones like in canon but loses the cap

- i think this is the only character where i talk ab their appearance? i just think nino should look a little different

- i hc them with adrien (refer to adrien for reasoning) BUTT i also hc them with adrien AND luka

- i like adrino's dynamic more than adrienette's (lowk nonexistent) dynamic

- lowk could see nino as a stoner

- superr into edm i like that hes an aspiring dj

alya cesaire

- black/creole

- she/her prns

- i dont like canon or fanon alya shes just unlikable to me? idk what it is

- her making up those plans for marinette to confess to adrien was crazy. she was really up concocting schemes

- i also cant rmbr much about her actually so this is a really watered down opinion about her

- i dont shop her with anyone except maybe nino or like sabrina . i will not elaborate

- i hc alya as that one friend who is like nice but like mean nice? like the type of person you wouldnt be able to tell if they were being genuine or not when they mess with you . which honestly it would be exhausting to have someone like that as a friend

- also i think alya being prone to lashing out or like quick to challenge someone is canon?? but if not i hc it

- i really dont have much on her personality wise i swear i just dont rmbr her at all

lila rossi

- italian (canon)

- she/her prns

- fucking hate fanon lila ppl write her as such a bitch like shes horrible

- like realistically how stupid do the classmates have to be to actually believe lilas bullshit in fanon. some of the fics are bad bro they shit on like all the class except marinette . marinette is not that great guys.

- canon lila is alr she doesnt do much. shes just a petty MIDDLE SCHOOLER lets rmbr everyone is in middle school

- lila doesnt do much except when she terrorizes the city with hawkmoth. almost forgot sorry guys. does she still do that or

marinette dupain-cheng

- mixed chinese and french (also canon)

- no prns or they/them prns

- i hc marinette as nonbinary

- marinette is also autistic

- marigami 4life i literally cant see marinette with anyone but kagami.

- ppl ship lukanette but i cant see it . lukanette is like a weird rebound situation in canon i dont like it

- some of the fanfic writers need to write marinette better, or actually accurate to canon. ive seen sm ooc marinettes (lets ignore how im completely changing marinette) that dont make sense

- canon marinette is embarrassing. the stalking thing (which is apparently explained in derision?), the schedule thing, and all that is literally insanity. i dont like thinking about canon marinette

- i actually do not like marinette that much, canon or fanon. which is kind of surprising?

#miraculous headcanon #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fandom #miraculous marinette #miraculous lb #miraculous adrien #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #marinette dupain cheng #lila rossi

[yuzukult]

after midnight 05 || jjk & reader

title: after midnight 05 - tonight pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: angst, smut, fluff, fwb!au, fuckboy!jk, doctor!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: bad words !! jk mostly just explicit language. no smut. a/n: ruh roh yeah no smut !! i decided to go without it this time because of the ✧plot✧ and wanted to focus more on that!! hope you guys still enjoy and read it without the freaky. :) (also next chapter is the last chapter. bye.)

He likes the colors red and black.

His favorite foods are donuts, grilled pork (wrapped in lettuce, a clove of garlic, a splat of red pepper paste while dipped into that sauce with the sesame oil or the one with the soy sauce), and he enjoys a good combo of the corn dog—half hot dog, half mozzarella cheese—and he rates the cheese pulls out 10; he even writes the name of the store, location, his order, and the ‘cheese pull rating scale’ in the notes of his phone.

He sniffles a lot, something about his nose that makes him do it frequently, but he does this thing where his nose scrunches up and the space between his brows crinkles while a finger does a quick swipe underneath despite nothing coming out.

Apparently, he’s got a black belt in taekwondo (you have yet to ask him to show you some moves), and he’s a ‘pro-gamer’ (his words, not yours). He does this weird thing when he’s focused on something; occasionally bites down the flesh of his bottom lip, or sticks out tongue with a furrow of his brows, only blinking between five minute intervals (you’ve actually timed this). And when he uses the bathroom, he has this strange habit of having to double check to see if he already flushed, even if you tell him that you heard the water go down. He has to watch it himself.

It’s peculiar that you’ve suddenly learned all these things about him, despite just weeks before, you told yourself that you didn’t even know Jungkook like that. The only thing you knew about him was that he’s got this “fuck-it” attitude, but when you uncover that blanket of a reputation that you assumed, he’s… more than just that.

He vaguely mentions that he wants to open a tattoo parlor, but he’s got a bolder, stronger goal of opening his own duck meat restaurant within the next ten years. It’s not fitting to his… vibe, so to speak, the tattoo parlor is more appropriate, but the way his face lights up at the thought of having his own duck meat restaurant is… sweet. Makes him seem less like an asshole.

As much as you resent yourself for admitting this, you’re warming up to the idea of Jungkook being your boyfriend. It’s not impossible, you’re beginning to realize, but it doesn’t help that there’s some hesitance in making a decision as big as that. Jeon Jungkook as your boyfriend? Pft. Sounds crazy.

The trait about Jungkook that you favor is that he’s honest. Even if it’s a rude statement, an opinion that you absolutely do not agree with, and even if it’s completely indecorous, he’s still purely honest. He doesn’t lie, and you know that he might not be lying about that girl that was in his apartment, his reputation still stands.

But sometimes, Jungkook can be honest but you still have no idea what’s going through his head.

You don’t get Jeon Jungkook.

It’s so complicated, yet at the same time, everything he wants and expects is laid out in front of you. He’s like a secret agent, only that he has his tools placed on the table for all the showcasing purposes and you still can’t understand what his plan is.

“When is your sister’s wedding?” He queries one day, lounging on your couch in the living room. He hasn’t probed you for much lately about the relationship, but to be quite fair, you’ve dropped pretty much every guy you’ve had romantic connections with in lieu of just… spending an oddly large amount of time with him instead. “Is it going to be back in your hometown?”

“Mm,” you hum in agreement quietly, paying attention solely on the television and the channels you’re browsing through. “It’s about two weeks from now. Really, I should be going home this weekend to prepare, but the hospital has been busy lately so I’m going to work.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Her wedding is two weeks from now and you’re just telling me?”

You turn to look at him, blinking blankly. “W—Is it supposed to matter?”

“Yeah, I’d like to be your plus one, if you don’t mind. Unless… you were planning on going alone?”

Melting into the couch, you sigh while carding your fingers through your loosened locks. After the last encounter, your family has been blowing up your phone nonstop about the true nature of yours and Jungkook’s relationship. Was he paid to be your date for one weekend? Were the two of you just friends? Did you already scare him and he broke it off? ‘He’s sweet,” you remember your mother saying on the phone one afternoon. ‘Can you try to seem more appealing so he could take your friendship to the next level?’ Because she still doesn’t think that you guys could ever be something serious.

But to be quite frank, you didn’t either. It had nothing to do with you, though, more of Jungkook and the reputation that precedes him. You still had your doubts, especially that night you came to his apartment and saw her there, and although he consistently denies having any relations with her, part of you is a bit… sad about it. As possessive as it sounds, he was supposed to be yours, and the fact that she came into his apartment so easily didn’t sit well in your stomach.

“It’s not that, I just…” you inhale sharply, sucking in your cheeks in thought. “Do you genuinely want to go? Like why do you want to go? I mean, yeah, if you don’t go, it’ll prove everything my family has been theorizing about having a fake relationship, but… I don’t want to force you.”

“I feel like I’m a broken record. I said I’d try to be your boyfriend. So of course I’m going to want to be your date for your sister’s wedding. Plus, I can… see what this wedding hype is that everyone is talking about.”

You snort. “You’ve never been to a wedding?”

“Eh. I have, I just… always tried landing dates on them. So I never really got to enjoy that actual event.”

There’s no harm in bringing him as your date, is there?

There’s harm in everything.

For one, you didn’t expect Jungkook to attract this much attention here. He’s got a suit that you’ve never seen him wear before, hugging his body in all the right places with his hair slicked back with a comma curl brushing against his forehead. Jungkook doesn’t notice you in the crowd, busy keeping himself busy by conversing with some of your relatives, and you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that he stole the breath in your lungs at that very moment. Brows crinkled in curiosity, lips pink like they’ve been stained with strawberry juices paired with a smile that nearly ropes in the hearts of all those around him, this sight of Jungkook from this distance does the same to you.

God, he always looked so good but today, he wasn’t.. Hot, he was more than that. He was… handsome, beautiful—all of the above.

This was bad. This was so bad because you’re sinking in quicksand disguised with the ways of Jeon Jungkook and the thing you least imagined to happen is starting to happen. You need to grab on something, someone, anywhere where there’s a branch of hope to get you out, but you’re in too deep.

You might… actually like Jeon Jungkook.

But before you could get lost in your thoughts, your sister snaps you out of it with a panicked whine. You could hear her through the walls of your house—and although you’re not the maid of honor, the person she picks for it isn’t exactly the most reliable either. She isn’t quite equipped for a pressuring scenario, and well… a wedding is a taxing event.

“Yuri!” She wails, stomping her feet against the carpeted floors of her childhood bedroom. Yuri gets hit with a tsunami of worry washed over her face as Suji turns her head with the scariest expression on her face—like a tiger going after its prey. “I thought I asked you to take care of this!”

“I’m sorry,” she responds, voice quivering as she gets on her knees. You furrow your brows at the motion, unsure what to make of what she might potentially do next. “I’m trying…”

“Suji, what’s happening?”

“There’s a stain on my dress, and Yuri was supposed to make sure it’s in perfect condition!”

“She’s your friend, not your servant. Here—” you gesture one of the bridesmaids over and hand her the key fob to your car. “Grab the tide to-go pen in the glove compartment. We’ll try that first and if that doesn’t work, I’m sure mom has something in the laundry room.”

Suji is huffing and puffing, smoke practically whistling out her ears with her arms crossed over her chest, veil draping over her shoulders and dress dragging along behind her. She’s so pretty today, despite all the anger boiling in her blood, but she looks like an angel from heaven. “Don’t be sad, lil sis. It’s just a little stain. It’ll get stained worse anyways when you walk down the aisle in grass to your future hubby.”

“OK, but this day needs to be perfect. I had a binder that planned everything out since I was in middle school—” Suji is the epitome of what you described as those girls at that age, and she’s currently living the dream of being able to make it happen. “—and it has to be what it looks like. Sure, I upgraded the tacky stuff to find me at my age, but I need it to be… that.”

“It doesn’t have to be that.”

“It does!” She exclaims, a foot slamming into the floor that’s only cushioned to muffle the sound. “If he’s going to be my forever, then today is the only day that I can make this my day.”

“Right, but you also forget that it’s his day too. And not to mention that it’s possibly the only time you’re going to get married, so you want this day to be great. So instead of wasting your time throwing a tantrum like an actual middle schooler, how about we just make this day as lovely as we can and reminisce on the good memories instead of creating bad ones.”

Her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek. “I guess… you’re right. I love him, and I know that he’s the ‘one’ so…” She sighs, shoulders dropping along with the look on her face. “I just want it to be perfect. Imagine our kids in the future, turning the pages of our photo album. I want it to be perfect, to be special—“

“You keep saying ‘perfect’ when in reality, they’re just gonna wanna see their parents happy on their wedding day. They’re not gonna care that their mom has a tiny dirt stain on her dress, or if the flowers aren’t the exact shade of lavender that you wanted. They’re gonna be focused on those smiles plastered on your faces—grinning from ear to ear, big teeth in everyone’s faces.” You steal a seat on the stool beside your sister, fingers fiddling on your lap. “You’re living your dream. Sure, not everything is going to go by the book tonight, but the fact that it’s pretty damn close is good enough.”

She nods; tears begin to well up in her eyes and you groan. “Don’t cry, you’re gonna ruin your makeup!”

“I just—“ She snatches a tissue from a box nearby, dabbing the inner corners of her eyes to catch the tears before they fall. “That was good advice. And… I’ll take you up for it, that is… if you’ll take up on mine.”

Well… that’s different.

“Uh, what do you mean?”

Suji frowns. “I’m your little sister, but I’m not that little and I’m also not that dumb.” You tilt your head in confusion, uncertain where she was leading the conversation. “Remember back a couple months ago, when I came to visit you, my big sis, in the big city, living out her big dreams?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“And, despite your constant denial of being with someone, I still saw that bright look on your face whenever your phone lit up with a specific name that spread across the screen?”

You grimace. “I did not look like that.”

“Well, in comparison to now, I would say that during that time, it was a bit dim because now you look like the brightest star in the sky. I know… I know that you and Jungkook were uh… not really a fling, but not really a couple either.”

Intriguing, because you never showed any signs of this but Suji picked this up? “When you went to work that one day, he came by your place while I was staying there.” Your face drops. “OK, but before you get all pissy, hear me out.”

“Jeon Jungkook stopped by my apartment… as a fuck buddy, while my sister was there.”

“Right but—“

“What the hell!”

“I said listen!” Although you want to counter back, it’s her special day after all, and starting a fight with your sister on her wedding day isn’t the most ideal scenario. “I uh, he might’ve not realized it then, but he’s been smitten with you since then. Well, before, really, since it seemed like it wasn’t the first time he looked that way.”

Annoyed, it’s your turn to cross your arms. “Like what?”

“Like he wanted to impress me because he liked you.”

This is new. You can’t help but snort a laugh, the back of your hand covering your face in utter shock, shaking your head in disbelief at her observation. “Where are you going with this?”

She shrugs, pursing her lips as her eyes skim her bedroom. “That… I’m glad you finally took him in as your boyfriend officially. I know you’ve always advocated for being a career woman, but there’s no harm in being both a career woman and being in love. You don’t have to be those people who are dependent on their significant other, like mom, but you can just be… you when you’re with him. He can take care of you, and you can take care of him. Goes both ways.” Her eyes eventually meet yours. “I see the way he looks at you. He’s not the type of person like mom is, expecting you to toss everything you’ve worked hard for just to be a housewife. He likes you for… you. Potentially even love.”

There’s that l word again, the word that slipped off the tip of your tongue so carelessly during a night of intoxication. You weren’t even that drunk, you have to admit, because it was only a couple shots, but something in you spurred the words out like vomit. Jungkook has yet to confront you about it, and it only makes you feel queasy just thinking about what he’d potentially say.

“I… Maybe, I don’t know,” you sigh, watching outside the window to see the bridesmaid that you sent on a mission run back in a frenzy, probably fearing that your sister has transformed into Bridezilla once more. “Maybe I need a sweeter guy, one that has a decent job, shares a lot of things in common with me, and one day wants to settle.”

Suji furrows her brows. “Jungkook is sweet. When you went to the bathroom the other day, Horny—” Suji clears her throat, eyes scanning the room to confirm that your cousin isn’t there, “—Horny Hyunae tried pulling a move on him and he was quick to just reiterate once more that he’s yours and not hers. He’s sweet, sis, you’re just too scared to see it. And a decent job doesn’t mean he has to be a doctor. Imagine you being with another doctor. You guys would probably rarely meet. Plus, not all couples have to be a replica of each other—wouldn’t that be boring? And… And Jungkook… maybe he’s not confident right now, but if he really wanted to be with you and you wanted to settle, he’d at least take it into consideration. So… why can’t you fully put yourself in a relationship with him and give it a go? Not just use the term ‘boyfriend’ loosely, but… treat him like he’s your boyfriend, because he is.”

Before you could formulate a response, the bridesmaid is already up the stairs, panting as she hands you back the key fob while waving the tide to-go pen. “I got it!”

“There you are,” Jungkook has a glass of champagne in hand, the liquid courage halfway full, with his other hand dug deep into the pockets of his trousers. “I’ve been waiting all this time for you. Met up with your sister?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nod, realizing that the two of you are matching in black attire. You’ve opted for a silky midnight dress, one that follows your silhouette almost tightly, and Jungkook would be lying if he didn’t say that he was watching you the entire time as you made your way toward him. “She was unleashing the demon inside of her because there was a minor stain on her dress. Worked out though, she’s calmer now.”

“Mm,” he hums, mimicking your nod. “Hope you’re not like that on our wedding day.”

You freeze.

There’s something weird about hearing Jungkook say ‘our’ instead of just ‘your’ with the word ‘wedding’ trailing behind it because it’s not… your wedding he’s thinking about, it’s the both of you. The thought of Jungkook standing at the alter, patiently waiting for your appearance down the aisle—fuck, erase erase. You shouldn’t even be thinking about anything of that nature, especially not since you haven’t even claimed Jungkook as your boyfriend officially. It’s too soon. It’s way too soon. He’s still a fuckboy.

Right?

Right.

Or so, you think. He’s different these days, and you say that quite often, but he’s truly been… different. He’s actually been toning down, trying to be less intolerable, but enough that he’s still himself. The other day, he made a flirtatious comment about your ass, but when a passerby complimented a girl standing inside the store, Jungkook glanced for a brief second but didn’t even bat a lash. He didn’t try getting her number, approaching her to compete with the other guy to ‘state his dominance.’ He just… stood by you, holding the menu in hand for you to see more clearly and asked, “are you sure you don’t want to get the spicier one?”

It’s even stranger that the two of you hang out casually now. Before, it’d be a quick booty call, sleep over, and that’s it. Wake up the next morning, shuffle to get your clothes on and make your way to work.

But now, he comes straight after work to your place, offers to either help cook dinner or stop by somewhere to grab something and stays the night.

Who the fuck is this guy?

You definitely need a drink. Eyes zooming directly on the glass in his hand, you don’t hesitate to snatch it and give it a swing. Jungkook isn’t fazed by this, using his now vacant hand to stuff into the other pocket. “I have a scar now from the stab,” he states nonchalantly, inspecting the look on your face. You’re without a doubt troubled, fighting with whatever thoughts it is inside of your head, and he assumes that it’s from your sister being married and not you, so his goal is to create some type of distraction. “I thought you said I wouldn’t get any scars from your stitching.”

“I never said that,” you roll your eyes. “I said it’ll make the scarring results a bit better. Why? You don’t like my work?”

“No, I love your work,” he responds, and that l word haunts you worse than a demon in those horror movies. “I just figured I would try to keep your mind off things by bringing it up.”

“Off what things?”

“You know,” he shrugs. “Your sister is getting married. I know you wanted to get married, and the stigma is that the older sibling is supposed to get married first, and there’s that superstition that if the younger one gets married before the older one, the older one won’t ever get married.”

Is… that what he thinks you’ve been so lost about?

It’s sort of endearing, hearing the way he talks about making attempts to create a shift in conversation so that you’re not feeling conflicted about being at your sister’s wedding. Because in reality, he’s the one occupying your mind. He’s taken over like a plague, infiltrating all your thoughts, to the point that when you’re grabbing boba tea from the shop around the corner for your apartment, your head immediately directs to ‘Is Jungkook over? Does he want a cup?’ And when you know he’d be over for the night, you don’t forget to put that extra towel on the hook in the bathroom for him when he showers. Or even making sure you have a couple water bottles in the fridge because Jungkook prefers to drink water cold than room temperature.

“Oh, I uh, I’m not really so worried about that,” you mention, rubbing your nape awkwardly. “They’re just superstitions.”

“Good, because they are. Your sister is about to get married and I still want to be with you.”

You nearly choke on the champagne, mid-sip and Jungkook rubs your back soothingly. “You alright?”

“Sorry, I just… I wasn’t sure if I heard that right.”

“Yeah, you did. I uh… I still mean what I said, even though this is entirely a new territory for me. I don’t want to say that we technically are boyfriend and girlfriend, but we’re literally at each other’s places everyday, I even have a spare toothbrush sitting on your sink. So… I hope that in comfort, that superstition doesn’t play when it comes to you. I still want to… be with you.”

You don’t get a chance to slip in a response because the music begins to play, and you and Jungkook quickly claim the seats in the front row.

It’s beautiful, you have to admit, all this effort that your sister put into this day has really been worth it. Your childhood home’s backyard doesn’t feel like it today—today, it’s her wedding venue.

The flowers are a beautiful shade of lavender (her favorite color), and they cascade down the armrests of the seats that line the aisle, with matching ribbons that tie around the backings on top of the white cloth that cover the chairs. Her future husband stands at the front, hands probably sweaty and heart racing like he’s just run a marathon. And the way his eyes light up at the sight of your sister, at the other end of the aisle with her arm linked with your dad’s, your heart swells.

The little flower girl that tosses the petals into the air practically dances on her route, and the ring bearer can barely walk without falling (he’s adorable, they have the rings tied to the pillow he’s holding because they predicted this). You can’t help but notice your mom’s face through it all—eyes welling up with tears, smiling so wide with her cheeks close to bursting in happiness and excitement, all while clasping her hands together and constantly gushing with her friends surrounding her. “Oh!” She exclaims, shaking her head. “My lovely daughter is getting married!”

You want to scowl, but you won’t. Today is your sister’s day, not yours, and her happiness was a priority. But the way your mom gazes at your sister dreamily, walking down the aisle with the biggest grin on her face, and her constant probing from the weeks before about how you’re never going to get married at this rate only makes you feel small, despite the fact you made yourself into this independent, strong person. Albeit none of that matters when your mother still looks at you disappointingly.

It’s like Jungkook senses the shift in your emotions, because he rests his hand comfortingly on your thigh, just above the knee, and when your eyes lock, his expression softens.

The ceremony flows well; there’s tears, laughs, and hollers, all supporting the main couple. They say their vows, exchange rings, and end things off with a loving kiss that sparks fireworks into the sky. That look on Suji’s face is filled with infatuation, hopelessly in love with the man in front of her, but the moment you glance at her new husband’s face—it’s a mirror of hers.

You… want that.

Jungkook has mentioned before that maybe these things are just something that you might want but may not truly want for yourself. But seeing your sister have it is only confirmation of it, and part of you… wishes that you had someone like that.

And for the first time, Jungkook comes to mind.

Maybe it’s because he’s sitting next to you, you attempt to reason, albeit he’s always been running through your head. The fact that the two of you had gotten relatively closer these past few weeks, him waiting patiently for a specific label to be presented by you, was adding to more of the reasons why he’s now a perfect candidate versus the old version of himself.

When the reception begins, you shoo Jungkook to find something occupy himself while you lend a hand to your sister and mom with greeting any additional guests that come in.

From his perspective, he feels like a balloon with too much air in it, threatening to burst.

Not that he was gassy, but more like he was filled with… emotion, and impatience, close to rupturing. Especially lately, Jungkook has been rethinking his entire life plan, ever since you decided that it was either date seriously or nothing. Truthfully, he thought that he could convince you otherwise—lead you to wish for an uncommitted relationship, but if he was to confess sincerely… you seemed to have changed his mind.

He saw your relatives chasing the kids around who holler and giggle gleefully, smiles plastered widely on their faces. One of your cousins, Nayeon (if he remembers their name correctly), was running after her toddler daughter around the second floor of your parents’ house after the baby showered, completely in the nude. He saw your grandfather, standing in the corner of the hallway, trying his best to catch the little one but his stomach was too big and he couldn't bend over far enough to grab her.

But then he saw Naeun’s husband; albeit his wife was sweating, hair out of place and completely stressed out by this crazy toddler, his face… exhibits adoration.

“Baby,” he remembers the man calling out to his love, snatching her up into his embrace with a soothing hum. “Go rest up. I’ll get her dressed and ready for bed, yeah?”

Naeun’s shoulders drop, eyes sunken from tiredness. She’s probably been taking care of the baby nonstop, and having to deal with family members in the midst of it, so when her husband stops her, it’s like she’s finally got a second to breathe again. “I—But the baby,”

“Yes, I got her,” he assures her, pressing a kiss on her temple. “I’ll take care of it. Go shower and rest up.”

And for a brief moment, Jungkook thought it was the two of you.

He sees himself, telling you to take a breather, to let him watch over the little ones as you shower. He sees himself, pressing gentle kisses on the crown of your head with an exchanging soft chuckle between the two of you, whispering a brisk ‘I love you’s because the kids are at it again with their crazy shenanigans, bulldozing everything in sight before he can get a chance to keep up with them. He sees himself, that day when your sister is looking up at her now-husband, but instead of your sister, it’s you.

To be quite fair, Jungkook isn’t a hundred percent solid on whether or not he wants this specific future. It’s particularly different from the route he’s always presented to himself, and it’s an uncharted territory for him but one thing he knows for sure is that he wants you.

He wants to see you when he comes home after a day of work, he wants you beside him on weekday nights, snuggling underneath the blanket while on the couch, watching some stupid movie you chose. He favors eating from those take-out boxes or even a nice home cooked meal, but only because you’re with him, despite the fact that there’s not much that the two of you have in common… something about you specifically that has his heart stuttering recently, and being around your family only furthers it.

So when he’s resting his arms on a tall table, beer in hand, blazer unbuttoned and the first few of his dress shirt let loose while faintly listening to some of the men his age that he’s become familiar with at the wedding, he can’t fully focus on anything other than you from across the venue.

Hair let free, cascading over your exposed shoulders, and pretty collarbones out for everyone to see, Jungkook doesn’t think there’s anyone in comparison when it comes to you. The head attached to those graceful shoulders holds so much intelligence, always teaching him something new with each encounter he has with you, and he truly feels grateful to have met someone like you.

“Hey,” one of the dudes calls out, interrupting Jungkook’s dreamy gaze in your direction. “Hottie at 6:00.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, lazily turning to where the guy points out, along with the other three guys with him. It’s both Horny—Hyunae (he has to remind himself to stop saying that because you keep engraving it into his head) with another one of your relatives (Jungkook can’t keep up with all their names). “Which one?” the one dude with purple hair queries.

“Both,” the original guy says, smirking as he takes another sip of his drink before nudging Jungkook. “You tryna get one and I get the other?”

“Hey, what about me?” the purple hair guy looks at him with a confused expression. “Am I not hot enough?”

“In comparison to him? Nah. I’d rather have him as my wingman. You see the tattoos on his hands? Probably makes those girls’ panties wet in mere seconds.”

Jungkook waves them both off. “Nah, count me out. I got another one I’m targeting.”

The first guy scoffs, putting his drink beside Jungkook, more intrigued by him than the girls now. “Interesting. You have another girl in mind? Who is it? I wanna see.”

Without hesitation, Jungkook gestures to your direction, straightening his posture when he sees you turning, giving him a small wave before going back to the guests again, shaking their hands and giving them your lovely smiles.

“The bride’s sister?”

“Shit, I know her. That’s a stretch.”

He can’t help but let out a laugh, shaking his head at the guys, lifting his beer up in the air. “Wanna see my game? Since you think I’m hot enough to land any girl, right? Watch this.”

With that, he makes his way over to you, and when you turn to him with a smile that’s softer, warmer than the ones you’ve been handing off to the guests, he feels his heart blooming more than all the flowers at the venue. He’s never felt like this before—this thing happening inside of him where his chest is tight, stomach doing flips despite not being nervous about anything, other than just being in close proximity. Have you always been this pretty?

A hand on your waist, you pat his chest comfortingly before resuming back to your activities, and Jungkook turns to give a wink at the guys who stand in awe, mouths dropped at his game.

If they only knew.

He wasn’t the one that caught you. You caught him.

The weekend was nice, you have to admit; spending time with your family (even though they were super judgemental at times) and seeing your sister get happily married was blissful.

But all good things come to an end.

Holding the end of your clipboard against yourself, you’re skimming through the patient’s chart with previous notes made by the doctor, orders on what she should be more cautious about, and directions on how to prevent another instance. Yet, she’s here. In a room in the ER, claiming to have liver issues yet again.

“This is your second time here, Lisa,” you purse your lips, taking a seat on the swivel stool. “What’s up? I thought the last doctor told you to cut your alcohol intake. Even the specialist said the same thing.”

“I did!” She exclaims defensively.

You drop the clipboard onto the tray beside you before crossing your arms, “... so how’d you do that? How much were you drinking instead?”

“What do you mean? I just ran a knife through it while pouring.”

You almost gave yourself a physical facepalm, but your job description doesn’t have ‘make patients feel dumb’ or ‘call them fucking idioits’ in it, unfortunately.

After following the procedures to take care of Lisa, you’ve sent her off to proper care. Leaving her room, you let out a heavy sigh, pumping a couple squirts of hand sanitizer from a bottle that sits at the nurses’ station when you notice Nurse Hyerim peering at you suspiciously. “Uh… yes, Hyerim?”

“So, about Dr. Hyunjin—”

“Mm,” you hum teasingly, resting your forearms against the counter, a smirk tugging on the edges of your lips. “Dr. Hyunjin’s name seems to come out of your mouth quite frequently. Are you going to ask me if I’m going on a date with him again? Just out of curiosity and thirst for drama to share through the grapevine? Or perhaps…” your wag your finger jokingly before pointing at her. “... you’re interested in Dr. Hyunjin and wanna take him out on a date.”

Hyerim is stuttering, words unable to escape from her mouth properly. “I-Uh, I—”

“Mm, if that’s the case, then no, I am not seeing him again, and you’re more than welcome to hit that.”

In disbelief, she puffs a breath of air that blows her hair away from her face. “Wh—What? It’s not even like that! What about you? What happened between the two of you?”

You shrug nonchalantly, playing with the pens in the plastic holder. “Nothing just… you know.”

This time, it’s Nurse Hyerim’s turn to taunt you. “Does this… have to do with that pretty boy from 18B?”

“I mean…” just the thought of Jungkook has your face heated. The two of you haven’t been able to have a proper conversation about what happened the day at the wedding, what he professed, and how you felt in return. “Would it be crazy? You know. For the two of us to be together. Insane, right?”

Hyerim’s confused. “What? You do realize you’re two hot people… right?”

“It’s not even like that.”

“Well, what’s the problem?” She tilts her head, puzzled. “Does he still not want to be your boyfriend?”

“Uh, actually, he wants to date now.”

Hyerim slams her hand on the counter, completely baffled. A couple heads turn and you wince internally. “Are you kidding? No offense doc, you’re hella smart but also very stupid. We’re talking about hottie in 18B here—“ geez, you’re praying no one is currently occupying 18B right now “—the one that has that rep of being a ‘fuckboy’ and I don’t even have to know him to know that. He wants you, bitch you better go for that before someone else snatches him.”

“Did you just call me a bitch?”

“Heat of the moment. You get it.”

“Mm,” you hum because everything Hyerim is saying isn’t new information. “Alright. I’ll… I’ll talk to him tonight. Maybe. We’ll see.”

Jungkook mentions prior to your lunch break that he’ll be over tonight, but “later. gotta take care of some stuff back at my apartment.” And at first, you considered waiting patiently in your living room, wine on the table and maybe in some cute ass lingerie and a silky robe—but why wait when you can just… go to him?

Of course, you’re not insane. It's been chilly recently these nights, so you’re not going to go strutting in lingerie underneath a thin ass robe. But, you’ll sport those jeans he says makes your ass look juicy, and a comfortable long sleeve to get him thinking that nothing will happen at the end of the night. (Spoiler: dirty things are going to happen that night.)

But you’re starting to learn from your mistakes, something that they teach you throughout all of your education career, from preschool up to high school, and even in college. They teach you in books; the life lesson is to learn from your mistakes and try your best not to make them again.

So, when Jungkook opens the door, completely shocked and unsure what to say, you’re left speechless too.

He didn’t lie—you make this very clear, but he wasn’t being entirely candid and open either.

Because that girl that stabbed him—the one that caused the scar in his abdomen, the one that made you be the one to tend to his wounds, is sitting in the dining room, with who you assume is her parents, all dolled up for the occasion while the mother lays the dishes on the glass table.

“What—What’s happening?” That’s all you can say. Well, what else could you say? You’re a doctor. You should keep your composure—acting out only makes you look bad and what if the cops come? A doctor getting arrested?

To be fair—you’re not that intense to warrant a visit from the cops.

But nonetheless, you’re fuming.

“Baby,” he whispers softly, shutting his door behind him to push you out into the hall. “I thought I said we’d meet after I take care of some things.”

“Take care of some bitch like she’s your girlfriend?” What the fuck is this guy talking about? How dense is he? “You got her parents in there too? What is this? Meet-the-boyfriend dinner? Did you come to my place for practice or what?”

“Baby,” Jungkook says again, quieter. “Relax. I actually wanted to talk to you about this tonight.”

“Bullshit—“

“Fuck! Alright, I know it was wrong of me and I should’ve told you earlier, but I thought she was over it and I cut her off, okay? I didn’t know she’d bring her fucking parents here!”

If having question marks above your head was an action that occurred in real life, now would be the time for them to appear. “Huh?”

“Can we talk about this later?” He says, those chocolate pools he calls his eyes are pulling you in, and in mere seconds, you’re already drowning in the sweetness. "I know it sounds insane, but there's a very good reason why I'm being so shady about this. It's not because I don't like you, or that I'm playing you either. I just... this is an embarrassing side of me and I really just want to figure this out before I make... us work."

You suck in your cheeks in defeat. He has a way with words, you admit, but you're starting to feel like he's testing his chances with you. “11:00PM. Sharp. If you’re not at my doorstep by then, you can consider this done.”

← previous chapter || next chapter →​​

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #gyukultfics #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts

[shishu-writes]

hi! your inarizaki manager headcanons were super cute so i was wondering if I could request headcanons or a scenario idm! of inarizaki maybe accidentally making their smol manager cry? 🥺

𝐈𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐲

Warnings: Language, Atsumu being mean

WC: 1.5k

Genre: Angst if you squint, fluffy ending

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this one! Thank you for the awesome req anon 💞

It had been a long day for everyone, the summer camp was grueling. The first two days of the week-long camp had been going alright, however the boys had lost a lot more games than they had originally anticipated. They just couldn’t seem to get into the groove of it, and it was putting everybody in a slump.

 The night of the second day of camp really put everyone on edge. Kita had called everyone, including you to the room they had been staying in to talk over why they have been in this slump and maybe find a solution. Opposing views on why the team was lacking during the past few days surfaced and Atsumus pessimistic attitude set something off in Suna, which resulted in the boys arguing.

Osamus bad habit of instigating emerged, which escalated the argument to a point where Kitas yelling would only fuel the argument more, which, in turn, made Aran try to calm Kita down, that then led to the two of them also arguing. Hitoshi had enough and left the room for a walk around the building, not even wanting to risk getting involved. Michinari and Ren sat with you in the corner, in silence, Michinari chose to stay purely for entertainment purposes, and Ren just wanted to sleep. 

As you turned to spark conversation with Ren a loud slap echoed through the room. Quickly your head snapped back to the group of boys. It took a couple of seconds to register what was happening. Everyone stood in silence and shock as Suna held his fist, Atsumu gripping his cheek. 

He glared at Suna before reeling back his arm to throw a punch towards him, Kita quickly grabbed his fist and shoved him against the wall, Aran dragged Suna outside, and Ren quickly scrambled up to follow the two boys. 

“I don’t know what the fuck you two think you’re doing but I will absolutely not hesitate to tell coach and get you both kicked off of this fucking team! We aren’t fucking middle schoolers Atsumu! When we have a problem we talk it out like adults we don’t start throwing fucking punches ESPECIALLY when you two are fucking teammates!” Kita yells, barely taking a breath between words. 

“If this shit continues the rest of camp you are both off the team. And you...we will have words.” Kita hisses, directing his final words at Osamu. Kita exits the room, leaving only The Miyas, you, and Michinari. 

Quietly, you shuffle towards Atsumu, who had slumped himself against the wall, sitting on the floor while cupping his cheek. “A-Atsumu…” you whisper, slowly sitting down in front of him while Osamu stands behind you. Slowly you reach your hand out, “Can I...take a look at your cheek for you..? I should bandage it before it starts bruising..” 

Gently you move to place your hand over his and right as the pads of your fingers touch his hand he slaps it away, scattering onto his feet. “Don’t fucking touch me. Get the fuck away from me..” He hisses at you, glaring down at you from above “I just-” “You just what? You’re only here because no other fucking club wanted you around! You thrive on the attention we give you in exchange for what? You nagging at us all hours of the fucking day? Give me a break, you have to be the most annoying girl I've ever met.” 

It takes him a couple seconds to realize what he said, both him and Osamu are silent. Michinar had been slowly making his way out of the room, the door slightly ajar, but he, too, was now frozen in shock. Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes until they overflowed. 

Quickly you stood up, running out of the half open door to be faced with the rest of the team who seemingly heard the whole thing. Too ashamed to look up at them you ran past, leaving the building. “I'll get her.” Aran spoke up, running in the direction you left while the rest of the team filed back into the room. 

Atsumu stood, dejected, arms hanging by his sides with a look of regret on his face. “I didn't mean it..” He whispers. Kita sighs, running a hand through his hair. “We know that. She's the only person that could truly ever put up with you...but she doesn’t. And you know how she is. She's going to take it to heart, because it's coming from someone she looks up to.” he whispers.

 Atsumu runs his hands over his face, sitting back on the ground. “Let's give her time...Let Aran work his magic.” Hitoshi says lightheartedly, sitting back on his mat.

-

The next day the team gets a very harsh scolding from their coach, the majority were issued warnings and went on their way. During the first couple hours of practice you were nowhere to be seen. After lunch the coach had called the boys for another meeting back in their room. He sat on the floor, placing his hands on his lap. “Can someone explain to me why Y/n just let me know that after the camp ends she will be resigning from her position?”

Almost immediately everyones heart simultaneously dropped, pure shock riddled with everyone's features. “Sh-she what?” Kita stutters out. “She told me today at lunch that she didn’t feel as though she was the correct person for the job, and that the team needed someone better. She offered me a list of potential new managers, however I feel like this has something to do with the fight that happened last night..” 

The boys all looked at Atsumu and he quickly got up, exiting the room before running to the managers quarters. When he got there he knocked twice, opening it quickly to find you sitting alone on your mat, looking through a list of potential club options. “Y/n!” “A-ah...Atsumu, good afternoon..” you mutter, looking up at him then quickly looking back down. 

“Why are you leaving the club? You know we need you-w-we’d be a mess if you didn’t take care of us like you do..” he stutters. Walking towards you slowly and sitting in front of you on the mat “You guys will be alright, it's not like I do much anyways...I gave a list of some really talented first years to the coach that should be an even better replacement.” “We want you! Y/n I know I said some really...really terrible things but I promise you I didn’t mean a word of it. I was just angry and I had been bottling it all up since we got here and I took it out on you and it wasn't fair. You take such good care of us...You make us each feel cared for and you do everything we ask of you and go above and beyond..You hold us together and.. We will never have a manager that could even compare to you...you’re also...our friend...and i’d hate to see you leave because I was acting like a fucking idiot. Please forgive me.” 

Stifling a sob, you nod. Atsumu wasn't one to show vulnerability to people, you and Osamu were the exception. His words were genuine, and you knew it by the way he looked you in the eyes when he spoke. 

He pulls you in for a tight hug, letting out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. “So you'll stay with the team?” he whispers. “I couldn't just leave my family like that..” you whisper. “If you say some stupid shit like that to Y/n again I wont hesitate to break your nose next time.” A voice speaks up that you immediately identified as Sunas. 

As you looked up, the team was standing at the door, half smiles resting on their lips. “Don't think about leaving us like that again..i'd hate to have those sleepovers at my place monthly if you weren't helping me keep an eye on these idiots.” Kita speaks up, earning a giggle from you. 

You wave the boys over and they all shuffle in, sitting with you. “Let's work really hard the rest of the camp okay? Afterwards I think we need some serious bonding time so I say...Weekend road trip to the beach?” “Fine by me if Kita and Samu drive!” “That was the plan Michinari, you'd kill us halfway there..” “We have to split the Miyas up-” “I call Y/n in my car!” “rock paper scissors over her!” “I'm going in Kita’s car-” “Can we please resume practice now?” the coaches voice calls out through the room, his tone light, a smile adorning his features as you all turn to look at him. 

The team nods, still holding their conversation about seating on the trip down to the beach, and over the next few days they were able to get it back together, surprising the other teams there with the sudden difference in skill. 

You really were the thing that held these boys together.

and they couldn’t ask for a better manager, or a more reliable friend.

#inarizaki x reader #inarizaki #inarizaki haikyuu #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu insert #haikyuu scenarios #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #kita shinsuke #suna rintarou #haikyuu imagines

[blue-fidelity]

~ “Smile In The Face of Tragedy”

Chapter One: Beer Run

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Henderson!reader, Steve Harrington x best friend! reader

Chapter Summary:

(Y/N) reminisces the events of the summer before senior year. It’s her last year of High School, and she wants to start fresh, the pretty newcomer with shiny blue eyes is willing to help with that.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, abuse (could be trigger warning, reader has a hard past)

The year of 1984 had come into full swing, and (Y/N) had tried to make the rest of her junior year somewhat enjoyable. After the incident with the demogorgon around Christmas, she wanted to focus on the lighter side of life. Which was mainly dicking around with her best friend, and crush, Steve Harrington. Things were going great, till the summer. 

‘Summer of ‘84. She dubbed it, “The Summer of Steve & Nancy”. Months usually consisted of Steve and Nancy trying to fix the shattered fragment of what their relationship was, whilst (Y/N) and Jonathan watched on the sidelines. Steve would come to (Y/N)’s house at ungodly hours of the night, usually sneaking through her window. 

She’s just been so distant, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong- he’d whimper, laying his head on her lap. She tried to contain her tears, for him. If only she could tell Steve that there was someone better for him, someone that could make him happy. There was one problem with that, though. Steve loved Nancy. It’s not like (Y/N) could change that, and it killed her. Seeing her best friend in this state though, it was another level. She wanted to scream at Nancy, scream at her for stringing Steve on a loose thread that she could’ve easily cut. Instead Nancy hid her feelings for Jonathan and carried on this dance with Steve. 

It just wasn’t fair, though, nothing really seemed fair at this point. Everything would eventually come crashing down and it’d leave a trail of broken hearts in the process, but atlast, (Y/N) would keep her head up high. She’d try her best not to fall into the deep end of emotions she wasn’t able to handle. If anything turned down hill, she knew she’d have one thing. Her brother, Dustin. 

Dustin was the ray of happiness that (Y/N) projected off of, to his charismatic personality and bright smile, she was like him in many ways. Moments spent with her brother we’re always great, they had a surprisingly better relationship then most siblings did. It was probably because (Y/N) was secretly a nerd, and even though she wouldn’t admit it, she probably liked D&D even more than her brother did. That’s why she absolutely loved joining Dustin and his friends on their sessions. 

This made the party worship her in a way, and she couldn’t help but find it adorable. It’s not everyday you get a bunch of middle schoolers fawn after you. So despite the never ending months of trying to mend Steve’s broken heart, the summer wasn’t a total bust. In fact, she loved the days she spent with those boys (even though it was a little hard to carpool when she drove a Harley Davidson, Mike was always willing to lend his family’s station wagon). 

Now, she was nearly two months into her senior year, and she decided to make it count. After all, it was her last year of high school before college. It was the day before Halloween, and she couldn’t be more excited. Dustin and the rest of the party were pretty hyped about spending their first night trick or treating unchaperoned, if  (Y/N) remembered correctly he stated, “(Y/N)! We are 13, practically men! As men we fetch our own candy”. To this she giggled, ruffling her brother’s curls, “Well young man, you must save your sister some Kit-Kats”.

- 

(Y/N) knew Tina, the only popular girl that really tolerated her was going to throw a party at her place. She had called her last night all excited about her, “Halloween Bash”, and how she wanted (Y/N) to help plan it. “The guys at the liquor store won’t say no to a hot chic on a motorcycle!”, of course Tina wanted her to get the beer. (Y/N) didn’t even drink that much! Only on occasions, but Tina was her friend. So after school today, she was going to head to ‘Hawkins local liquor store, and PRAY TO GOD she could hide the kegs from her mother. It was moments like these she wished she had a car to stash things in.

She pulled up into Hawkins High’s parking lot, “Toys in The Attic”  by Aerosmith playing loudly on her stereo. Spending a whole summer with middle schooler’s kind of made her forget about her social status. If it made sense, (Y/N) wasn’t in the “popular clique”, being Steve’s best friend just gave her a title. Those who didn’t like her called her, “Steve’s Wannabe Queen”, which was partially true, whilst others who liked her didn’t name her anything. She was just, “(Y/N) Henderson”. A face that simply stood out in the crowd because of sheer confidence, kindness, and a vibe that screamed cool. Guys wanted to fuck her, girls wanted to be her. It was a classic High School cliché.

Tina waved at her as she parked her ‘Harley beside her car. She was with Carol and another girl who she couldn’t name. “Hey (Y/N/N), I was just telling the ladies you’ll be supplying the beer for tomorrow?”, she said, to which (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Only because you know the creeps down there won’t turn me down, come on Tina I feel used”, she fake pouted. The girls all laughed, continuing to talk about the party. 

As the girls continued their conversation, (Y/N)’s Aerosmith seemed to be drowned out by the familiar sound of The Scorpions, “Rock You Like A Hurricane”. A fellow metal head such as herself in Hawkins Indiana? ‘This couldn’t be possible. About everyone in this town had shitty taste in music, besides her and Jonathan. She turned down her stereo and directed her view to the sound, eyes being met with an ocean blue Camaro, with a California license plate. How fitting. Whoever the driver was, had sped into the parking spot beside hers. 

The group of girls behind her stared eagerly to see who this suspicious newcomer was, and if (Y/N) was being honest, she was kind of curious as well. The driver door swung open, and the driver’s combat boots grounded him to the concrete. That’s when she saw him, and he saw her, too. 

Something radiated off him, almost a confidence higher than hers. It was cockiness, and at first glance, she could see right through him. Denim jacket, cuffed jeans, and a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. That was her first impression, and damn was he definitely good looking. For a moment, Steve had been wiped from her brain. Replaced with blonde curls and pretty blue eyes that bore into hers. “Whatcha looking at, princess?”, he smirked- eyeing her up and down like an animal staring down its prey. (Y/N) tried to contain herself, she wasn’t about to be wooed by the new playboy. 

“I’m simply looking at your car, 1979 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, right?”, her car knowledge would get her out of this one. “Right you are sweetheart, pleasure to see one of the girls in this town has common sense”, he grinned, showing his pearly whites. “Well if you're ‘lookin for that trait in the rest of the girls here, I think you’d sadly be disappointed”, she smiled, gesturing to her “friends”. Tina and the other’s let out gasps. The newcomer shook his head, plucking his cigarette from his lips. “Well I guess I’ll see you and your senseless friends around then, huh?”, “I guess so”. He strutted to the school. 

“You whore! Way to throw us under the bus like that”, Tina scowled, slapping (Y/N) on the shoulder. She only laughed, “Well, couldn’t lie to the guy now could I?”. Well wasn’t (Y/N) feeling pretty proud about herself right now? She could really be a sarcastic fuck sometimes, huh? 

-

In a way, (Y/N) loved school. Her place made her feel validated, and she got pretty good grades. What was there not to love? As she was at her locker, her peachy attitude soon turned to discomfort. The happy squeals of Nancy could be heard from a few lockers away as Steve spun her around. She smiled at the couple, yet it still made her heart ache. (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice Jonathan awkwardly walking away from them, passing by her. Steve looked at his girlfriend with sparkles in his eyes. He genuinely seemed joyful, and in a way she was happy for him. Still, that aching feeling was there, and at this point it seemed nothing could replace it. 

Later that day, during art class (which was last period), she found out the new guy's name was Billy Hargrove.  Fresh out from sunny California a week ago. She questioned why someone like him would choose art out of all things for his creative credit, but, maybe he’d surprise her. The class was filled with a very “out of the box”, group of people. They might’ve been (Y/N)’s favorite out of the student body. The art room was a space for open opinions, and creativity. Everyone was interesting in their own individual way, but somehow, Billy managed to stand out. 

When he entered the class, everyone was already working on their current pieces. Mr. Axworthy, who insisted everyone called him “Mr. Ax”, had assigned a new project about a week ago. Every year he gave students an assignment to represent themselves, this year it was painting your favorite album cover. Though (Y/N) had many favorites, she chose The Clash’s “London Calling”, and was currently working on the shading. She was calmly sitting at her easel when she heard the teacher speak, “Mr. Hargrove! Pleasure to have you in our art class, there’s a free spot beside Mrs. Henderson, she’ll explain the current project to you!”. (Y/N) gave “Mr. Hargrove” a slight smile as he walked towards her.

“So, Henderson, huh? Got a first name?”, he questioned, showing that cocky smirk. “It’s, (Y/N), yours?”, “Billy. Billy Hargrove”.  Now she knew his name- and it somehow added to his intoxicating aura. Call it fascination- but, Billy’s presence overwhelmed her in a way, and she didn’t even know him that well! It’s not like her feelings for Steve disappeared, just anytime those shimmering blue eyes glanced her way, her heart raced. Maybe Billy was the void waiting to fill that aching feeling, and she just hadn’t realized it yet. Everyone was telling her to move on, that it wasn’t worth it, but- to her, Steve was worth it. The one thing that wasn’t worth it though, was chasing a dream that wasn’t going to come true. 

As (Y/N) was explaining the project to Billy, she was surprised by how attentive he was. If he could get excited about one thing, it was music. “So how are your art skills?”, she asked, “A little rusty, but nothing you can’t show me”, he grinned, taking one of his paint brushes and dipping it into some red paint. (Y/N) thought he’d go for the canvas, but he surprisingly smeared the paint onto her cheeks. She stared at him in shock- “Wha-what the hell did you do that for?!”, she exclaimed. “Just thought I could add to the flush on your cheeks!”, he laughed, of course he’d notice her blushing.  Two could play at this game. “Well, you know what I think your face could use?”, “Oh yeah? What’s that?”, “Some green!”, she shouted, painting a big green line on his face. Before their paint war could continue, Mr. Axworthy had noticed.

“I hate to interrupt, but shouldn’t the paint go on your canvas?”, he motioned to our easels. “Well of course Mr. Ax, but when it comes to the concept of art, isn’t everything a canvas?” she giggled, leaving Mr. Axworthy speechless. “Well, yes- but I’d prefer you’d not interrupt the class and actually help Billy start his project”, he states. “Definitely, he had just finished telling me he wanted to do Metallica’s ‘Kill ‘em All, isn’t that correct, Mr. Hargrove?”, “Yes that is correct!”. “Well then, carry on, you can wash the paint off your faces at the end of class”. 

By the time class finished, Billy had at least finished the base coat of his painting whilst (Y/N) had time to finish her shading. Now, they needed to step into the halls with paint all over their faces-how embarrassing. It was as if Mr. Axworthy wanted them to be publicly humiliated! In a way, (Y/N) didn’t blame him, it was a good form of punishment. When the pair walked the halls, they received awkward glances. Billy simply rolled his eyes, who were they to judge him? He wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders, giving her a reassuring smile, “Let them stare, I know you got rep around this joint, they have no reason to give you dirty looks, aight?”. It was nice to have reassurance from Billy, but from getting to know him, he generally had that ‘don’t give a fuck attitude’. She wasn’t worried about the paint. She was worried what people would think if they saw her, the girl who had been pining for Steve forever, under another guy's arms. The new hotshot nonetheless. 

Luckily Billy was called over by Tommy, of course he had already been recruited by that group. Despite her very much fun art class with him, she was feeling uneasy with all the looks she was getting from people, and to make matters worse, Steve was standing at her locker. He waved her over with a smile, to which she headed over to him. 

“Hey Stevie”, she beamed at him. Damn she still couldn’t resist that adorable face. “Hiya (Y/N/N), saw you walking with ‘Hargrove”, he smirked. “Oh yeah, that- we just have art together, nothing big”, she blushed, I guess Billy really was getting to her. “That explains the paint on your cheeks?”, he pointed at the red coated on her face. “Just a small mishap I guess”, she chuckled. “So what brings Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington to my locker?” she inquired. “Just wanted to see my bestie, it’s been a while”, he smiled softly, poking her side. It really had been a while, (Y/N) really couldn’t remember the last time Steve looked at her happily. It gave her a sense of comfort to see him so cheerful. “It really has- I’d hate to cut this short, but I really have to get some errands done, but I’ll see you at the party tomorrow?”, “Definitely! I’ll see you then”, he bid her goodbye, kissing her on the cheek. Her hands grazed her cheek, touching where he just kissed. “Oh and Henderson! Let’s hangout sometime, yeah?”, he shouted to her, “That’d be great!”. 

Before heading to the parking lot, she stopped at the bathroom to wash the paint off. She checked to see if anyone was there, luckily there wasn’t. The girl really didn’t need anymore dirty looks. She grabbed some paper towels, running them under warm water. While she whipped the paper towel over her face, she took the time to look at herself. What was she doing? Was she really going to let Steve slip away that easily?  Billy had just entered her life, and had obviously taken an interest in her. What was the risk of jumping into things too quickly? She couldn’t wait forever. That’s when she decided. (Y/N) was going to allow herself to get lost in the new overwhelming feeling of Billy Hargrove. 

-

(Y/N) drove down the quiet back roads of Hawkins, making her way to the liquor store. If the town wasn’t sketchy enough, having the liquor store away from civilization made it even sketchier. She really didn’t like coming here, the last time (Y/N) came here was for another one of Tina’s parties. It was for the end of the summer, at Lover’s Lake. It was quite the blowout, till Hopper came to shut it down. Fortunately she didn’t get caught that night, her mother would’ve killed her, and she wasn’t about to spend the night in jail. 

Now, (Y/N) wanted to give the cashier an offer he couldn’t refuse. The process was simple, bat her eyelashes, show plenty of cleavage, talk innocently, and then figure out how to put two fucking kegs in the side car of her motorcycle! She glanced down at the outfit she was wearing, a simple low-cut red t-shirt with some high rise acid wash jeans, and a leather jacket. The leather jacket could go. She strutted to the counter of the store, knowing they held the kegs in the back storage, it was time to turn on the charm. Borris, the regular cashier, was in his late 60’s, and she absolutely hated the way he looked at her. It made her feel grose, but she wasn’t about to let Tina down. 

Boris contentedly stared her down, obviously checking her out. On the inside, she shivered, but she kept on a smile. “Anything I can do for you pretty lady?”, he asked, grinning. “Yes, I was wondering if you can hook me up with a few kegs? ‘You see I got this party tomorrow, up in Indianapolis! It’s a big college thing, ‘can’t have a good time without alcohol”, that oughta convince him. “Sure thing sweets, I’ll grab some for you, how many shall it be?”. He didn’t even ask her for her ID! “Two will be just fine! Thank you so much!”. He brought them up to the counter, shit those look heavy, she thought. “How much does it come to?”, (Y/N) asked. “Oh, on the house, anything for a pretty girl looking to have a good time”, score! He almost offered to help bring them out- till a familiar voice cut in. 

“It’s no problem Boris, I’ll help her out, just grab me a pack of cigs mhm?”, Billy Hargrove, of course. “Your usual William?”, questioned Boris. “That’ll be just fine”. (Y/N) was stunned. Did it just happen to be a coincidence that he walked through the door? More like a sign. He took hold of one of the kegs, while she grabbed the other. They both headed outside. 

“Stalking me, Hargrove?”, she smirked. “Absolutely not! I just happened to need more cigarettes, and I noticed a familiar Harley Davidson, don’t flatter yourself”, he placed the keg down, lighting a cigarette. “Sure...and you deliberately wanted to help me with the kegs?”, “The guys a creep! I’m sure you didn’t want to be around him any longer”, he huffed, blowing smoke from his lips. “Aww, you protecting me Hargrove? That’s cute!”, she giggled.

Even though Billy hated to admit it, he loved when she laughed. She ignited this glow that was hard to describe- though, it made him feel warm. It made him feel good. When he arrived here, his goal was to sleep with nearly every girl who made eyes at him, he’d make a list, and then he’d check it off one by one. That all changed when he saw her. She was different, she had this spark that came with her quick wit that left him wanting more. Was he going to tell her that? No, not yet, but it seems his “friendship” with her was growing quicker than he expected. 

“I’m not protecting you..just-shut up”, why was he getting so flustered? This was so unlike him. “Whatever Hargrove, just help me load these into my sidecar will yah?”, she struggled to hold the keg. “Sweetheart, are you sure those will fit in there?’, he questions, looking at her struggling. “You got any better ideas?”,  she groaned impatiently. In fact- Hargrove did have an idea, whether she’d agree, he really didn’t know. 

“Here me out- you and I both know those aren’t going to hold in there, and I know why you need them, so why don’t I stash them in the Camaro, and you and I can go to the party together?”, he offered, waiting eagerly for her response. She hesitantly looked down at the kegs, and then back up at him. “Billy- are you sure? I don’t want you going through all that trouble, what if your parent’s found them?”, she questioned worriedly, biting her lip. “My parents won’t notice a damn thing, if they even touch my car- it’s their dead body on my hands”, he laughed, though she could see his shoulders tense up, the question had obviously bothered him. “Well alright then...let’s load them into your trunk”. 

Once the kegs were in, Billy closed his car trunk tightly. Smiling at (Y/N) he took another puff of his cigarette, leaning against the back of his car. “So what are you going as?”, he wondered, staring at her. (Y/N) had spaced out, not really getting what he meant. “What do you mean?”, she asked. “For the Halloween party, what’s your costume?”, “Oh! I'm going as Sarah Connor from the new Terminator movie?”, she explained, wondering if he’d heard of it. “Nice, I was told that movie was supposed to be good”. Why did this conversation feel so awkward? “It really was, I went to go see it with my little brother”, she grinned. 

“You got a little sibling- me too, well step sister, but that doesn’t matter”, he muttered the last bit, inhaling more of his cigarette. “Do you two get along?”, she questioned, “No-not really-just, can we change the subject?!”, he raised his voice slightly, startling her a bit. He really didn’t want to talk about his family. ‘I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to pry- I should go-”, she whispered, heading back to her motorcycle. (Y/N) turned on her heel, flinching when she felt Billy take a slight hold on her wrist. “Wait- I didn’t mean- I didn’t mean to startle you”, his words were shaky, as he kept his grip on her wrist. She slipped his hand off her wrist, staring at him blankly. (Y/N) wasn’t exactly sure what she was supposed to say at this moment. “It’s just- when I moved here, I wanted to start fresh and the idea of my family just-it makes it hard”, he says sharply. “I just don’t like talking about it”. 

(Y/N) nodded her head slightly, she didn’t really know what Billy went through when he moved to Hawkins, and whatever it was, seemed to trigger him. In a way, (Y/N) knew what it felt like. She and her family moved to Indiana in 1979, when she just started middle school. It was hard to adjust, and Hawkins was a lot different from her last home. They left because her father had walked out on them. Though it was traumatic, it wasn’t like he was a very good dad. He’d come home late from work, usually drunk and angry. (Y/N) still had scars from when he beat her. It made her insides twitch, shivering at the thought of the still present stitches on her back. The night she got them, her father had been particularly cheesed off,  luckily her mom and Dustin weren’t home. Her mother was having a well deserved ‘ladies night’ while her brother was at a sleepover. 

The night started off calmly, (Y/N) had been contently listening to records in her room while her father was watching football down the hall. She knew he had been drinking, she never saw him without alcohol in his hands. That’s why she didn’t drink that much, she’d hate to turn out like him. Her door was locked, to make sure he wouldn’t come in. She cringed when she heard glass shatter in the other room, footsteps slowly approaching her door. She hopped out of her bed, muttering ‘fuck-fuck-fuck’, under her breath. At this point she had gotten scared. Her dad knocked harshly on her door, “(Y/N), you better fucking open this door, or I’ll knock it down myself”- he yelled, voice booming. That’s when she realized. I’ll go out the window. (Y/N) quietly opened the window latch, slipping through the frame. Luckily her house was only one story, so there was no risk of falling. 

She thought she had been safe, till her father noticed she escaped from the window. (Y/N) barely had a chance to leave the driveway till her father spotted her, tackling her to the ground. Her chest hit the cold pavement, groaning in pain as her father pinned her wrists to the asphalt. Not getting a chance to notice the kitchen knife in his left hand, he unexpectedly slashed the blade against her back. She wailed as the knife dented her skin, begging for her dad to stop as tears filled her eyes. By chance her mother had entered the driveway before her father could do anymore damage.  (Y/N) never understood why her mom didn’t call 9-1-1, just simply drove her to the hospital to get stitches. It was probably out of fear, and it was only a few nights after the incident that he disappeared. When Dustin found out what happened, even with only being eight years old at the time, she swore he was ready to kill him. 

- 

When she stared back at him, she had a sympathetic look in her eyes.  “It’s okay B, just- if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here”.  He smiled slightly at the small nickname, looking at her softly, “Thanks, no one’s really offered that before”. He scratched his neck nervously, lighting out his cigarette. “Hug it out?”, she extended her arms out cheekily. Hug it out? Billy Hargrove didn’t hug it out- but she seemed so sincere-  he pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead. He couldn’t resist smelling her hair, it smelled almost tropical- like the salty scent of the ocean breeze that reminded him of home. For the first time, Billy felt at peace in this new town. He knew that if she stocked around, he could bring himself to be happy, and as luck would have it, she was planning to. 

Next Chapter: smile-in-the-face-of-tragedy

Authors Note: The time has come and the first chapter is here! I hope you guys enjoyed, feedback is greatly appreciated 😊! If anyone else wants to be in the tag-list, feel free to comment below!

Tag-list: @holychocopie

#stranger things #stranger things season 2 #stranger things season 3 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove angst #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #henderson!reader #dustin henderson #blue’s writting #smile in the face of tragedy

[starbuckie]

𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐰

challenge: 200 followers challenge by @angrybirdcr

prompt: “there may have been a slight misunderstanding, but nothing we can’t fix.” and locked in the trunk of a car

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 5,504 words

warnings: post-endgame, bucky’s kinda a dick, enemies to friends(?), swearing, angst, mentions of violence, talk about sexual assault, guns, bickering, jealousy

summary: bucky had been adjusting to the new familiarity of having a stable routine, right until she walked in.

a/n: I DON’T NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO MARVEL. okay, great, done that, but congratulations on 200 followers!! i had so much fun taking part in your writing challenge, so thank you so much. imma be honest, there’s not a lot of romance in this, it’s some enemies to friends type of shit and i genuinely did not think this fic would get so angsty and dark and actually long, but i had an idea and ran with it mid way through the old fic with this prompt. also i had an idea for an epilogue to this, so tell me if you want that part 2 because i am on the verge of writing it. this is not proofread by a beta, but i edited it myself and hope it is okay. anyways, now that we’re done with that, please enjoy this rollercoaster of a fanfic i’ve written.

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Life in the twenty-first century was strange, Bucky concluded. Though he’d been free of HYDRA for around nine years technically, being a fugitive and in another realm didn’t give him much time to learn about the modern world. As soon as he came back, Steve had left him and he had to move on without his childhood best friend. It was hard for him to adjust to this century, with the new rules and the whole scene in general, but he seemed to make it through just fine. He’d come to peace with the fact that there was no escaping the fighting at all, falling into a steady routine that became his holy grail. 

In the new Avengers compound in Upstate New York he felt content and more sure of himself than he’d felt in a very long time. Everyone in the tower was quiet and kept to themselves mostly, still dealing with the aftermath of losing so much in so little time. But in that silence Bucky felt like a free man, able to walk around without fear of being hunted down every second and time to really look about this new world.

There were still times when he woke up in a sweaty panic, disoriented and terrified until he realized he was in the safety of his room in the compound. He’d flinch at loud noises in the quiet and his heart would stop, something that went by unnoticed by everyone else, though he didn’t blame them for it. Bucky felt extreme guilt for the horrible things he had done as the Winter Soldier, memories of bloodied and dead bodies, bodies he had made fall to the ground motionless. It wasn’t him, he knew, but his hand still had pulled the trigger. When he found something new a smile would split across his face, ready to tell Steve what he had discovered, until he remembered that the rambunctious blond boy was gone, a wrinkled grey man with a new family in his place. It still hurt him to think that he had left him so easily, with barely a goodbye. Bucky still had days where he felt so incredibly tired, left still on his bed as horrible thoughts ran through his mind, anxious about the future.

But then he found new things everyday, things that seemed to outweigh the bad by a whole lot. He’d found cool ranch Doritos were the best chips and that he really liked the season of fall with the leaves falling around him as he took a serene walk. He found that he really loved Frozen, the songs and Sven the reindeer making him crack a smile every time he watched it. He found that he could sleep in on his days without missions and Wanda liked her pancakes with an unhealthy amount of syrup on the side to dunk them in. He found that Sam was actually really funny, always making the worst puns or the dirtiest jokes at the most inappropriate of times. He found a new sense of respect and warmth in the family they’d built together, learning how to go on without those that they loved. He found that he was really enjoying his new routine and his new sense of peace with himself.

All until she walked in.

Bucky could still remember the exact moment she flipped their world upside down. Sharon had fawned over her, talking about one of her old SHIELD buddies who was finally coming back to the states. After the organization fell in 2014, Y/N L/N fled to Hawaii, running away to the one place she knew no one would find her. She was done fighting, or that’s what she believed until Thanos showed up. 

It was shameful, really, that Y/N was aware of all the problems that went on, yet did nothing to help. They needed her help, she knew they did, but she couldn’t bring yourself to go help her friends. Originally she was trying for a settled down life, planning to retire from the constant fighting, but after a few failed relationships Y/N realized that she wasn't cut out for that white picket fence life. Those had just been the dreams of a fourteen year old Y/N L/N, left empty and hollow by the horrors she had seen during her time at SHIELD. There was nothing left waiting for her, no family, no friends, but she was too stubborn to get back into the fight, so she stayed in her humid Oahu apartment and waited for something interesting to happen.

Well, maybe Y/N shouldn’t have wished so hard, that “interesting thing” showing up in the form of being snapped out of existence by a large, purple grape.

When she came back she felt nearly indifferent, knowing that five years had passed by her, and though Y/N felt nothing but emptiness she knew that it was time to go back. It was her duty when she had joined SHIELD to always be there and protect, and she had failed that job. But Y/N was more than ready to make up for it. Nothing like Thanos could ever happen again, so she called Sharon, one of her closest friends and previous commanding supervisor at the organization. She was ecstatic to have Y/N back, probably a bit too much, and before she could have second thoughts the girl was on a plane overlooking JFK, ready to land in New York.

So when Y/N walked in, with a tight-lipped smile and butterflies anxiously fluttering in her stomach, Bucky couldn’t help but despise her. Maybe he had formed his opinion off of Sharon’s explanation of her past, but Y/N got the life of settling down that he didn’t and he was infuriatingly jealous. 

“Hey, Bucky, Sam, come meet Y/N!” Sharon said excitedly. Her hair was put back in a headband neatly, two suitcases in hand as she looked at the two tall, muscular men. Of course Y/N recognized both of them, she hadn’t been living under a rock. Keeping up with the news of the Avengers and remaining SHIELD officers had been one of the only things keeping her from coming back, hearing of the terrible fights and destruction done to whole cities. She recognized Sam Wilson, the infamous Falcon being marked down as a “war criminal” in 2016. She never believed that crap, if he and half of the other Avengers were locked up there had to be a good reason behind it.

Then, there was James Buchanan Barnes. Now, she knew him from her eighth grade American history books, reading about the brave Howling Commando who had given up his life for saving the country, but Y/N knew him better as the Winter Soldier from her time at SHIELD. The fight in 2014 had been brutal, hectic in all forms, but she’d caught a few glances at the metal-armed man. He hadn't been in his normal state, with being controlled and tortured by HYDRA at the time, but the kid inside of her freaked out, remembering memories of gossiping with her friends about how hot he was in the textbooks and how much of a hero he was. That man was still in there somewhere, hidden by decades of reprogramming and mind-wiping, and Y/N was finally seeing him in the flesh. She would be working with him daily, living in the same space as him. The thought made her giddy like a middle schooler with her first crush,though his presence was intimidating as well.

“Hi there, I’m Y/N L/N, it’s a pleasure to be working with you.” Sticking out her hand, she gave a bright smile, already growing out of her nervous state. 

Sam quickly shook Y/N’s hand, giving a warm greeting in response to her introduction. Then she turned to Bucky. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

His cold, dead glare locked onto Y/N, staring straight through her soul. It felt like he could see every insecurity and guilty action she had, and she didn’t like it one bit. “That’s Sergeant Barnes to you.” Without another word, he walked out of the room like a petulant child, leaving Sharon, Sam, and Y/N flabbergasted. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, he’s usually more friendly than that, I’ll go check in on him,” Sharon furiously said with a painfully fake smile. Sam grabbed the new girl by the arm, linking it with his own and led her in another direction as he explained the usual training routine and schedule for the week. 

And while she was completely enraptured by Sam’s comforting words and the exciting compound, her heart still felt heavy from Sergeant Barnes’ cold greeting. 

-

She had tried to be nice. She really had. But after two months it was pretty clear Sergeant Barnes wasn’t getting any better, and Y/N was beyond pissed off. Childish, is what he was being, fucking childish. 

It started off with leaving every room she came into, blatantly ignoring her presence. When she would say hello every morning he’d grunt or even worse, he wouldn’t answer her at all. Y/N had begged Sharon if she knew why the sergeant was acting up, but she didn’t know either and just asked her to ignore him and his “crappy, old-man behaviour”. Sam wasn’t very helpful to Y/N’s cause either, but he was a great mentor and an even better teacher.

Sharon was really the only person Y/N had in her phone, her parents dead and no boyfriend accounted for. The rest of her family had wanted nothing to do with her when she joined SHIELD, but that was okay with her. She knew what she had gotten herself into, and it was an extreme risk to even be acquaintances with her. But now, living with several others in a compound that seemed so large after the great loss, Y/N became part of their family as well. 

It was nice to have friends again, as years of solitude on an island where she knew nobody had made her nearly desperate for more human interaction than with the teenagers who worked the cash registers at the grocery store. Y/N became an integral part of the Avengers (she could actually say that aloud now), going on missions and kicking ass just like she used to. Of course, Sergeant Barnes’ behaviour in and out of missions stayed the same, but she usually tried her best to not take it to heart and move on. After all, she couldn’t have everyone like her.

But one day they both snapped.

Y/N was sitting with Sharon and Wanda, eating lunch and talking over their most recent mission with them and Barnes in Cairo. It hadn’t been a necessarily bad mission, per se, but she had run back into the building to get Wanda out from under a fallen pillar, which apparently was “severely dangerous”. Looking back, she could see how it was, putting her entire team’s secrecy and mission in volatile danger, but Wanda was like her sister and in Y/N’s heart she knew that she had to. Bucky had had to grab them both, nearly dragging her back to the jet before the building had collapsed. He’d been beyond angry with Y/N for the stupid decision, but when they landed he just huffed and stomped away. The redhead was grateful for her and so was Sharon, but lunch was just for a simple stern talking about mission protocols. 

“Y/N, I know that you’re a fantastic agent and even better friend, but when we’re on missions we need that agent. You can’t let your feelings and outside life get in the way of our objective.” Sharon said in a firm voice. Y/N dropped her head in her hands and rubbed her face tiredly.

“I know, Sharon, I’m sorry, Wanda could’ve probably gotten herself out but I just let my instincts act too fast and ran back in without another thought.” She groaned. “Plus, I just caused more damage than anything else. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Wanda and Sharon nodded in understanding just as the Asshole Supreme walked into the kitchen.

“You talking ‘bout how Y/N fucked up the mission yesterday?” Sergeant Barnes grunted. While Sharon and Wanda gasped in shock, Y/N’s eyes were trained at the plate on the table in front of her, not daring to make a sound. She muttered out a sorry and got up to put her dish in the sink. As long as he was here, he was going to make her life a living hell, and as much as she wanted to lash out, it would be cause for her dismissal from the team. While her old, solitary life was what she had once dreamed of, Y/N now saw her future among these people, this family, somewhere she finally felt a part of despite Barnes’ horrid behaviour. “Sorry?” He scoffed, “Sorry doesn’t make up for the fact that I had to run back in for you. Sorry doesn’t make up for the extreme risks we all pull to save your ass out in the field.”

“Bucky, stop.” Sharon yelled.

But he ignored her words and sauntered over to Y/N with a knowing smirk, leaning down to meet her level. His warm breath hit her face and she could stare into his deep eyes, swirling like a raging storm of blues and greys. “You shouldn’t even be out there, L/N. I mean, you haven’t had training in years, it’s not like you were anything special either. Just another agent, hoping to get to work in the big leagues.”

“Shut up.” Y/N whispered meekly. Tears were just barely being held in, her chest feeling empty and hollow with anger and guilt. Is this what it felt like to want to kill someone with so much vengeance? 

“Where were you when Thanos came? Where were you, L/N? We needed all the help we could get, but there you are, in fucking Hawaii, with you little fucking margaritas on the fucking beach-”

“Shut the fuck up!” She screamed. The room went dead silent with her voice. None of the team had seen Y/N look so angry, so sad, so vulnerable, at one time. It was easy for her to hide her emotions and Wanda refrained from trying to toy with her mind, but shame was overwhelming the girl by the second and Sergeant Barnes was right, as much as she didn’t want to say it. She was a coward, thinking she could run away from the “hero life” so easily. They’d caught her, and Barnes was making her face that truth right now. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I know, that I was absolutely scared shitless of returning here, facing all of you after what you endured for so long?” 

Y/N took a deep breath, laughing mirthlessly as tears ran hot down her cheeks. “I’m sorry that I came back, I really am, but I’m trying my damn best to make up for what I did. Being scared is no excuse for why I ran away, I was fucking terrified of having one more thing to lose. My family is dead, SHIELD fell, and I had no one to lean on so I ran as far as I fucking could. But I’m back now, I’m ready to serve up to what I left behind, and you better fucking deal with it because this,” she jabbed a finger into his broad chest, “is not fucking it. I’m not going to live with your shitty behaviour anymore, Barnes.”

He, Wanda, and Sharon all watched as she slammed the plate into the sink, storming out of the room. They could hear her door slam shut, and the two women glared at Bucky.

“What the hell is your problem, Barnes” Wanda hissed in a scarily low voice. Fuck. He knew he’d messed up then, gone farther than he ever dared to with insulting Y/N, and both of the women were severely overprotective of the new Avenger. 

Sharon walked up to Bucky with large strides, delivering a slap to the side of his head. Yeah, he definitely deserved that. It was dead silent in the kitchen, the tension still high strung from the fight seconds before. “You better go apologize, Barnes, I swear to God this has gotten far too out of hand. You two have a mission tomorrow, estimated a month, and wheels are up at 2300 hours. I need you two to go get the intel quietly and undetected and we can’t have both of you arguing the whole damn time, so you better fix things by then.”

The blonde agent walked away, Wanda trailing behind her, but not without the middle finger from both of them. A mission? Tomorrow? With Y/N? This was going to be horrible. Bucky ran a hand over his face and trudged off to his room. 

It was going to be a long month.

-

Y/N stared out of the window as they flew over the clouds above the Mediteranean Sea. Eleven in the morning in Italy gave a clear view of the skies, light blue as far as she could see. They were ready to start their descent into Azzano and the woman glanced to the man beside her, his stormy blue eyes glaring in any direction but hers. The sergeant had avoided her all he could up until they boarded the jet, and even then he only spoke to her when necessary. “Hey, Barnes, we’re starting to descend, go get ready.”

The brunette looked over to Y/N and grunted in response. Oh well, it was better than him yelling at her. His little outburst in the kitchen had her pissed at him more than ever, but the words thrown around still rung true in her head. But now wasn’t the time to think about that.

She paid careful attention to where she was supposed to land, a shaded facility almost five miles south of where they had to get the intel from an old, but rebuilt HYDRA base. The same base where James Buchanan Barnes was once held captive, experimented on and tortured until Steve Rogers came to save him. Y/N didn’t care much for Barnes usually, but she also didn’t know how he’d react to being in a location with such horrible memories attached to it. They had both been at the mission briefing the day before of course, he knew what it entailed and he seemed unfazed, and he was always good at hiding his emotions. As the jet touched down finally, the agent thought back. Well, sometimes he was good at hiding his emotions.

Making sure her comm fit snugly in her ear, Y/N unbuckled herself from the seat, heading back towards the wall of weaponry they kept in the back of the jet. Barnes was already there dressed in hs black kevlar tactical suit, hugging his body nicely and vibranium arm on display. When he was around her he tried to hide it, and she saw him joking around and being comfortable in other’s presence with it out, wondering what made her so different. She personally found it fascinating, the beauty of the gold and black metal with the incredible Wakandan technology, but she respected his privacy and tried to not think too much about it. 

Y/N threw a vest on over her own navy blue tac suit, tightening her combat boots before she fully zipped up. Were they finally ready?

Three guns perched in holsters by her waist.

Two taps to her earpiece and Barnes’ breathing in her ear.

One mutual nod with the sergeant himself, and they were off, slowly making their way to grab the intel, not a trace to be left behind. 

-

Getting stuck in the trunk of a car was not in the plan. It definitely wasn’t. Bucky remembered every single inch and cranny of that meticulously planned out schedule, every move, every kill they had to make, but not once was it mentioned that Y/N was to get stuck in Baron Zemo’s car without any weapons on her.

“L/N, what the hell do you mean you’re in the back of Zemo’s car.” He seethed, already searching frantically around the large remains of the building for her. It had gone smoothly, she was just supposed to quickly check inside his car as he searched the base. It’ll be so much quicker if I do it, L/N, is what he had said, but now he regretted it. Like the incompetent fool she was, she was spotted and ended up shooting out half of Zemo’s goonies before dropping all her weapons to the ground and running when she ran out of ammunition.

“There may have been a slight misunderstanding,” Y/N whispered into her comm, “but nothing we can’t fix! Just come find me, Barnes, and all will be well.”

She could hear his angry curses and jostling, which she assumed he was running to come find her. It wasn’t entirely Y/N’s fault she had run out of ammo. Some of it must have fallen from her pockets during the shootout and when she saw the car she thought it’d be the perfect place to hide. Until she realized that no one else was at the partially burned down HYDRA base besides Baron Zemo, the person who Sharon had told her to avoid at all costs, and she was in his damn car. Practically her death note.

“If you had just listened to me you wouldn’t have been caught!” Bucky furiously whispered through the comms. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, though he couldn’t even see her, and groaned. “I did listen to you, Barnes, I checked the damn car, but we weren’t expecting his guards to find me so I killed them and hid. Is that actually so bad?” 

“Yes it is!’ He explained. “Give me your coordinates.” She checked the small watch on her wrist, pushing a button on the side that gave a small holographic image of the time and her coordinates on a world wide map. Reciting them for him, Bucky followed, continuing to berate her as he did so. “And you’re right, L/N, I asked you to check the car, not fucking jump inside it!”

This time Bucky could envision her rolling her eyes as she groaned even louder in very Y/N L/N fashion. “Would you rather I be dead?” She asked. It had been a few seconds, but she still received no response. “Barnes?” Crackling. ���Sergeant?” Absolute nothingness. “Sarge?”

The trunk of the car opened as the woman let out a squeak, the broad frame of James Barnes hovering above her, some dirt smudged around the annoyed expression on his face. “Don’t call me that.” He grumbled.

He reached his hand towards her, grasping her own tightly before pulling her to a sitting position. “Why, you had all the ladies calling you that back in the day?” She mimicked a much higher tone, nearly resembling Snow White if the princess were high on drugs and had a Brooklyn accent. “Hey, Sarge, we goin’ dancing? Sarge, you goin’ to give me some sweet lovin’ tonight? Oh, how I’d just love for you to shove your fat, ugly head up your a-”

A loud beeping from his wristwatch cut her off. With a glare, the man let go of Y/N’s hand, checking to see what the problem was. A small red tracker on the map moved, and both of them knew they were in deep shit. “Crap, Zemo’s coming this way. That’s one of the trackers I set up on the ground and we gotta go quick.”

Faint whistling from Baron Zemo made both of them panic as Bucky tackled her back down and quickly shut the door behind him. Footsteps were approaching, the whistling getting louder and a door opening let the two Avengers know that they couldn’t get out anytime soon. Y/N could feel Bucky’s racing heart against her chest, hers beating just as fast. He turned to face her, a lot closer than both of them expected, lips dangerously close and noses nudging against each other. Ther breaths mixed together, the hot air of the car doing nothing to help her current close quarters with the man. 

“Can you bust us out of here?” She whispered hurriedly, rather uncomfortable with the present situation.

“We’ll die if we leave now. He’s much more prepared than we thought and with half his men down he knows something is up. Zemo wasn’t even supposed to know we were here so we’re far too unprepared and you lost your damn weapons. There’s no way we can go out so we’re going to stick in here until he gets out.”

Truth be told, Bucky was terrified and had no clue what to do next. Being stuck in a small confined space with Y/N had to be his worst nightmare, especially after he didn’t apologize for his shitty behavior last night. And the night before. 

And the several months before that.

From his view Y/N seemed to be uncomfortable and as the car started moving, she wiggled around, struggling to get as far away from Bucky as she could. He too was extremely uncomfortable, but as her wriggling continued, his already tight fitting pants seemed to get even impossible tighter as she practically grinded on him. 

“Would you stop squirming around?” Y/N shot him what would’ve been a questioning glance if not for the pitch blackness of the trunk, and heard his loud sigh, warm breath fanning across her face. “I’m sorry, I’m having a situation, uh, down there and your wiggling isn’t helping it too much.”

Her face heated up, not knowing what to feel after he said that. Was he… flustered? Y/N had never seen Bucky Barnes anything less than grumpy or professional before.

When she said nothing, he assumed the worst and thought she saw him as a disgusting and creepy person. Before that moment he’d never had any particular care about how Y/N felt, but he knew that there were still a lot of perverts, if not more perverts than back in his day. With his four little sisters always getting catcalled and the crude men who thought women were their property, Bucky knew it was definitely terrifying to be assaulted or any situation such as this. 

There wasn’t much he could do, but he shifted so they weren’t lying down hip bone to hip bone. “Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, I don’t want you to think I’m a pervert or anything, it’s just been a while since I, well, y’know…”

“I understand, Barnes, but thank you for apologizing.” Y/N said carefully. It was weird to hear the now shy and surprisingly considerate sergeant apologize to her, but she had to admit that her respect for him had gone up. 

He cleared his throat in return, trying to turn in any other direction besides hers as they listened to the tires of the car bumping along the road, heart wildly thumping. 

It was quiet. Far more quiet than it had ever been when either of them were in the same room. As Y/N stared down at Bucky’s head, almost resting on her stomach, she saw the man she’d read about in middle school. For a moment she was able to look past the last few months of fighting and hatred, and see the noble sergeant she’d admired for so long. 

“You can rest your head if you want to, I knew keeping it up like that must be hurting your neck. I promise I’m okay with it.” She reassured him. With a small hesitation, Barnes submitted to his screaming neck muscles and laid his head on her stomach, the vest providing cushion. A few more seconds of silence and gathering courage, and she finally asked him the question she had been wondering since her first day at the compound. “Why do you hate me?”

I’m jealous, he wanted to say, but he wasn’t brave enough to say it. With a small sigh, he managed to get out, “I don’t.”

“Then why are you so cold to me all the time?” Emotions that were borrowed so deep inside Y/N’s chest seemed to come barreling out, seeping into every question that she asked. “Am I really that horrible an agent? Do you not think I’m trying my best? I know I made a mistake, I wasn’t there when you all needed me, but I’m trying so, so damn hard to make up for it. I swear on my life, and every one that comes after it, that I’m-”

“It’s not you, it’s me, God damn it!” Bucky exclaimed angrily. Both of their blood ran cold in fear that Zemo might have heard them, but the radio continued to drone on in the background, nothing seeming to have changed. He took a deep sigh and tried how to best explain it to her. Even though he’d probably never have Y/N’s forgiveness for insulting her so plainly and hurting her so much, he felt as though she deserved as much as his reasoning as to why he “disliked” her so much. It was difficult for him to say, having to also put his pride away for once to just admit it. “I’m jealous of you, Y/N. You got the sweet life for a while, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. When you look at us who remain, not a single one of us was planning to be an Avenger. You were getting the dream home, the kids, the family that I’ve wanted since I was a boy back in Brooklyn, and all you had to do to get it was run away. It was so simple.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, not at all expecting that. “It wasn’t all too much ‘sweet life’, you know? It was my dream when I was younger, I thought being an agent was temporary and then I’d move into a big, old house with a loving spouse and have millions of little carbon copies of myself to occupy my days. But the truth about what we do is that we can only stay away from it for so long, Barnes. With people like us,” she squeezed her eyes shut, letting the final tears roll down her cheeks, “there’s no running away from the hero's life. It's just who we are. We’ve already done too much to change that part of our lives.” 

Y/N felt him nod through the fabric on her skin, sniffles letting her know that he was crying too. They were connected. All the shouting, all the yelling, the pain, the battles, the fore, the blood, the years of torture, all led to this moment. This historic moment in Y/N and Bucky’s relationship where they both waved white flags, wet faces and hearts filled with sorrow for the life they never had. 

“I’m so sorry for the way I dealt with my anger and jealousy, Y/N.” Bucky croaked. 

“I used to idolize you when I was a kid.” Y/N recalled with a faint smile on her face. “In the eighth grade I wrote a history paper on you, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, American hero and inspiration to all. And you know, I always kinda had a crush on you. Wondered what it would be like if you were still alive, if you would’ve gone home after the war, if you would’ve had a family. No matter what wild thoughts ran through my head, though, you were always my hero.” Bucky took her confession in shock, pure amazement and surprise coursing through his body. Maybe a little bit of sadness, longing for that old life, maybe a bit of bashfulness of her having a crush on his as a schoolgirl. “And then I met you and you were this grumpy, irritable old man who seemed to despise me as soon as I walked in the door. Definitely not what I had expected.” He opened his mouth, ready to apologize again, when her next words cut him off. “I want to start over, don’t you?”

How was she so calming? Her words were exactly what he needed to hear and didn’t need to at the same time. Her voice brought back all the old memories of running around New York with Steve as a kid, reminding him of his wise ma in a way. “There’s nothing I’d like more than that, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled to herself, looking towards the top of the car. “Perfect.”

And with the twinkle in her eye and his head resting on her stomach with a small grin, it really was.

#James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #james barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #angrybirdcr200challenge #marvel #marvel fanfiction #Avengers #Avenger #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #readerinsert #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastianstan #Sebastian Stan #sebstan

[paleode-ology]

Pre-Season 6 Thoughts - In Conclusion, Fuck the CW

okay yet another supergirl post bc I want to say some things before s6 starts airing

I started watching this show in middle school. I was just starting to become confident about the fact that I liked girls and as a girl I was really excited to watch a show about a female superhero whose most important relationship was with her sister. I thought Cat was hilarious, and I about lost my mind of happiness when Alex came out.

Season two rolled around and I absolutely fell in love with Lena. Again, I was really excited at the prospect of this super complex, female character. Pretty soon I hopped onto the supercorp train and never looked back.

Genuinely, I really, really loved this show. I loved Maggie and Sam and Ruby and Lucy Lane and Cat Grant, I adored Winn, thought J'honn was an absolute bop of a character. I thought there were really interesting and intriguing storylines, like Lena's short and emotional stint experimenting with humans. In hindsight, I even think that the idea of Mon-El could have been really compelling, even if it wasn't executed extremely well.

All this to say, I have had a lot of love for Supergirl. It's sentimentally valuable to me, and I feel so nostalgic when interacting with supergirl art on Tumblr or reading supergirl fanfiction or just watching it in general.

it's also incredibly, fundamentally, flawed.

please note that I don't blame actors for anything at all. there's obviously things that have happened behind the scenes, but I want to talk specifically about the show runners/writers/directors.

as a middle schooler, when I was 12, 13, even 14, I watched supergirl for the pretty people and focus on women and the aliens and (to middle school me) compelling plot lines.

however, this show has shown time and time again that they are incapable of focusing on platonic relationships between characters for extended periods of time. we got a few episodes of kara and nia working together and then an entire subplot focused on nia and brainy's relationship. as the show continued into its third and fourth and fifth season, danvers sisters moments became few and far between, which was especially distressing considering the show was originally built upon the strength of Kara and Alex's relationship.

James? became primarily a love interest for whoever the nearest woman was. and also a disastrous vigilante. sort of.

They brought Lex Luthor back, in a show that was supposed to be focused on the women of the superhero world, especially Lena, Lex's sister. For her to be pushed out of the Luthor spotlight in supergirl of all shows is discouraging, and it only builds upon the shitty rep the CW has given us in one of their only shows with a female lead.

Kara, of course, was inconsistently written, to the point where it's transparently obvious that the writers have her make decisions that are the most compelling for the sake of the plot rather than decisions that were the most in character for her to make.

Kara and Lena were established to be best friends. then, they were constantly pitted against each other, again, mostly for the sake of plot. supercorp aside, we can still talk about how Kara never told Lena about her identity until the fifth season, about how despite being "best friends" their relationship was hardly focused on. we instead saw the James and lena elements or lena and her science plot lines, but the gals themselves? hardly any scenes. this specific argument is strictly from a platonic kara/lena point of view, although I do ship them so I admit I'm biased.

Supercorp as an actual romantic ship is something I definitely have Opinions about, but I think that's for a separate post. HOWEVER, I do want to address the queerbaiting we've seen for years.

While I don't want to go too in depth (since this really is mostly for the supercorp post I'm also drafting 💀) but complicated story short, the very obvious queerbaiting regarding supercorp, as well as blatant encouragement of fans shipping the two together - liking comments regarding supercorp on their instagram, for example - is not only disrespectful and, to be frank, manipulative of their fanbase, but it also borders on (in my humble, seventeen-year-old opinion) unprofessionalism.

the supergirl social media accounts encourage behavior from their fans that they have proved time and time again they have no intention of actually rewarding in the show. maybe if this was the first or second year of supergirl airing, this wouldn't be a huge deal, but at this point, they know exactly what they're doing, and it genuinely makes me so angry.

I don't have high hopes for this last season. I'm looking forward to the more fan service-y episodes. Really, I'm only going to be watching it for the nostalgia factor, desire to see it through and get closure, and, if I'm being honest, clown-like hope that maybe, just maybe, they'll be able to fix the show that has grown more and more unstable over the past five years.

TL;DR: I loved supergirl as a kid, it holds a special place in my heart, but over the past few years, the writing and management of the show has made it one of the biggest disappointments I've witnessed amongst all the media I've been able to consume in live time (as opposed to things like ouat, which I only got into just as it was ending). While I'm going to watch the sixth season out of fragile hope and the desire for something akin to closure, it is going to take A LOT for supergirl to redeem itself.

happy final season, kids.

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #Alex danvers #lena luthor #nia nal #brainy #James olsen #Katie mcgrath #Melissa benoist #Nicole maines #fuck the cw

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

What if after the party Hawk decided to get revenge by sharing Demetri's secrets as well. Demetri's mom let's him in when he's not home and he finds his journal. What he wasn't expecting was all of the pages about he regrets saying all of those things and he's pretty sure he's in love with him

Oof ouch there goes my goddamn HEART I didn’t need it anyway

I can honestly totally see this happening though??? Like Hawk slipping into “Eli mode” the same way he does to fool the school counselor and using that to break into Demetri’s house because he’s counting on Demetri not being able to bear to tell his mom the full extent of how bad things have gotten with “good old Eli”...and Hawk’s absolutely right. The most Demetri has mentioned to his mom is that there’s been a “bit of tension” and “Eli and I have been arguing a lot.” So of course Hawk gleefully goes up to his room to find the most embarrassing dirt he can and get the most epic vengeance.

And, sure enough, there’s Demetri’s goddamn diary. Of course he would keep a diary, the lame fucking nerd. Who the hell even keeps diaries anymore??? And he reads it from the beginning, and realizing the first half or so is from when they were still best friends. It’s a lot of geek nonsense, rants about video games and Lord of the Rings and what have you, sometimes drawing parallels between scenes from his own life being harassed by Kyler and the plight of Middle Earth being ruled by Sauron. All typical nerdy Demetri. But...there’s also a lot about Eli. About some present he got for Eli that he’d been especially excited about. About how proud he was of Eli for winning that coding competition with him. About how frustrated he was that he couldn’t stand up for Eli more against the bullies. About how much he hated that Eli felt like he needed to constantly cover the scar above his lip. How grateful he really was to have Eli around because “at least someone will listen to my ingenious insight!!!”

And then comes the fateful school year everything changed. Hawk reads through Demetri’s confused delight at Miguel befriending them and seeming to genuinely enjoy having them both around. He reads through Demetri’s bafflement at the emergence of Hawk, and his barely-concealed terror that his best friend would decide he didn’t want someone like Demetri around anymore, now that more people liked him. He reads through Demetri’s concern at Eli’s anger slowly boiling up into something violent and unnerving. He reads through Demetri’s betrayal at Eli blowing him off after Demetri was assaulted by Kreese, and his worry at having his two best friends training with a man who has no issue beating up random high schoolers off the street. He reads through how lost Demetri was after Eli jumped him in the mall, desolate and spiraling and feeling like he’d never quite feel whole again. How broken Demetri had felt looking at Eli’s nearly-unconscious body on the food court floor. 

And then comes a long ramble about the latest season of Doctor Who, and--Hawk notes with an oddly painful twinge--how much Eli would love it. “He’s all about badassery now, he’d be SO into this if I could get him to watch it.” And then a long, giddy ramble about how maybe this is how he’s finally going to get through to Eli--how he’s going to get his Eli back. How he missed him so much he barely knows how to function anymore.

And then come the pages after that fateful party, the one where things almost went right and then everything went so very wrong. It’s just line after line of things to the gist of “Oh, god. I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up SO fucking bad. I’m a piece of shit.” Even after everything that’s happened between them, Eli feels himself getting...alarmed. Demetri is never this...concise. Or vulgar. He prides himself on being wordy and pretentious, and not having to curse to make a point. Now it’s like he can’t stop swearing, can’t stop repeating what a piece of shit he is. Which can really only mean he’s gotten so emotional and fallen so deep into devastation that it’s somehow temporarily overridden one of the most prominent parts of his personality.

The last line in the journal is “I never even fucking told him I’m in love with him. He’d fucking kill me if he knew. He’d be so disgusted. But I wish I’d said something anyways. Is that fucking stupid?” Hawk just...slams the journal shut and sits there for several minutes, having no clue what the fuck to do now.

Okay bUT IMAGINE THIS ISN’T EVEN AN AU AND HAWK ACTUALLY READS ALL THIS AND STILL HUNTS DOWN DEMETRI AT THE SCHOOL FIGHT AND LATER BREAKS HIS ARM, HOW UPSETTING WOULD THAT BE

The fucked part is I could SEE it, like this kid already projects all the “pussy nerd shit” he hates about himself onto poor Demetri, like imagine the internalized homophobia??? This kid who wants to seem like the most macho tough guy ALIVE must have??? And imagine he has/had a crush on Demetri and has been suppressing it like there’s no tomorrow and now oh god oh FUCK he has to be reminded of it??? And these feelings are just yet ANOTHER part of his past self that Hawk hates, and with the love Demetri feels for him...well, how could Demetri more PERFECTLY and COMPLETELY represent the “weak” parts of himself that Hawk now despises??? And Demetri becomes Hawk’s absolute prime target after that, because he HATES what he sees of his past self in Demetri and, most of all, he HATES that all of that is still there inside of him. By making a bitter enemy of Demetri, he figures, by alienating him and antagonizing him to the point where any connection they ever had or could ever have is completely broken, maybe he can finally be free of being that Weak-Ass Lame Gay Nerd that nobody liked and everybody mocked.

On a slightly happier note, maybe seeing that final journal entry is part of what spurred Hawk’s eventual change of heart. Like he’s just watching the destruction around him caused by the Cobra Kai kids, and remembers Johnny saying that Kreese doesn’t give a shit about him. And he just has this epiphany like “Demetri loves me.” (And he knows this has to be true, because he was never meant to see it. No reason for Demetri to lie in the privacy of his own journal. No manipulation or tricks here...not like what Kreese has learned how to pull.) “No one at Kreese’s Cobra Kai ever did.”

And he decides in that moment he’s going to fight for a person who loves him as he is, rather than a person who only likes the image that he made for himself to feel like he could be something other people respected. Hawk still doesn’t love the weaker parts of himself, the more vulnerable parts, the parts that people can easily jeer at and mock and use to make him feel awful about himself--but maybe if Demetri sees something worth loving, then Hawk eventually can, too.

#hawk x demetri #demetri x eli #binary boyfriends #hawkmeat #eli x demetri #demetri x hawk #elimetri #demetri cobra kai #eli moskowitz #cobra kai #cobra kai season 2 #cobra kai season 3 #hawk #demetri #eli #my askbox

[thebluelemontree]

Hiya blue lemon it's me again. Do you have any criticism in the way GRRM wrote Sansa in book1/2? EX:.Sansa and Jeyne are BFF but we amolst never see the girls talking to eachother, and when JP is sex traffikced sansa just forget about her(we could have a scene where sansa try to find what happened to JP or at least grieve for her). Every time sansa appears as a non-POV in AGOT she's been mean and whe we have her POV she's mean for no good reason(SANSA III AGOT). >PART 1<

And the worst is why GRRM wrote sansa goin to Cercei to tell her the "Ned Plans", it's just bad writing, Cercei kill lady so Sansa going to her was OOC GRRM just wrote that to we hate Sansa And in the book it's not explained what "the Ned plans" was(And it was nothing imortant at all, and would make no difference at Ned's fate) so ordinary readers blame Sansa for Ned's death and GRRM does that too in book 2 Cercei put all the blame for Ned death in sansa nd "the Ned Plans" Your thoughts?PART 2

There’s a lot to unpack here. 

I get a sense that in the early books, George was not as comfortable writing female relationships as he was writing male relationships or even male-female ones. I mean, Catelyn has no female friends, no companions like Margaery Tyrell’s cousins, no fostering wards of her own, no correspondences with other ladies except that one letter from Lysa for plot reasons. This is just weird for the lady of two major houses. It is neglectful on George’s part to give most of the important social connections to men. This doesn’t mean he was totally inept at writing female relationships, though, and it does seem like he’s tried to improve upon highlighting the positive in later books.

By comparison, the positive side of the brotherly relationships are presented so strongly that it tends to smooth over the conflicts with many readers. Jon can feel envious and resentful of Robb, but the love and loyalty is always in the foreground. The conflict between Arya, Jeyne, and Sansa does have legitimate character arc and plot purposes, so this isn’t bad writing. It’s unfortunate that GRRM presses down so hard on the constant bickering and occasional nastiness, but he did write some positives (albeit they tended to be revealed in later books) and there are understandable reasons for the dynamics. It was not done in a totally unrealistic way. What’s depicted is a typical and relatable rocky period for that age group, and there was negative adult influence at play. It’s not a permanent feature of the sisterhood. It’s all there if you pay attention and you’re inclined to be charitable toward the mistakes of young girls.       

If a reader is already predisposed to see the bonds between male characters as more pure and more able to overcome the negative aspects, then they probably also view the bonds between female characters as inherently weaker and more fraught with conflict. Fandom misogyny is not GRRM’s fault. That sector of the fandom will always have contempt for girls for being girls, especially preteen girls. They will always hone in on their faults and belittle their virtues. 

I don’t think that is true that we hardly ever see Jeyne and Sansa talking. They are nearly always in each other’s company. There was real friendship between Sansa and Jeyne, because what George does do well with them, is realistically write the way girls cement their bonds. Young girls strengthen their relationship by communicating and confiding in each other. Sharing secrets, crushes, hopes, fears, and pieces of gossip builds trust and intimacy. Jeyne and Sansa do this all the time, even though they can have different opinions and disagree about a lot.  Yes, there is some one-sidedness in that Sansa socially outranks Jeyne and believes that makes her more mature and wiser than her friend. Jeyne is dependent on her closeness to Sansa as a highborn lady and future queen to rise successfully, so she’s not going to push back on Sansa’s dominance. This is also a reason Jeyne sometimes bullies Arya to supplant her as Sansa’s “sister.” When Sansa has something to share, she goes to Jeyne to talk about it. I think it’s hilarious that the girls have a debate over which castle Gregor Clegane’s head will get spiked. Sansa wants Jeyne at her side for these new and exciting events like the tourney. When things get serious and dangerous, they comfort each other. Again, this is not all George’s fault if some readers don’t recognize or value the way girls do friendships.  

It’s stated quite clearly why Sansa tries to not think about Jeyne or her deceased family members very often. It’s fucking traumatic and her survival while among her captors depends on mentally holding herself together. 

If only she had someone to tell her what to do. She missed Septa Mordane, and even more Jeyne Poole, her truest friend. The septa had lost her head with the rest, for the crime of serving House Stark. Sansa did not know what had happened to Jeyne, who had disappeared from her rooms afterward, never to be mentioned again. She tried not to think of them too often, yet sometimes the memories came unbidden, and then it was hard to hold back the tears. Once in a while, Sansa even missed her sister. By now Arya was safe back in Winterfell, dancing and sewing, playing with Bran and baby Rickon, even riding through the winter town if she liked. Sansa was allowed to go riding too, but only in the bailey, and it got boring going round in a circle all day. -- Sansa II, ACOK.

Following her father’s beheading, Sansa was in a suicidal depression for days. She wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t bathe, welcomed drug-induced sleep, and contemplated killing herself. If she thinks too much on those she lost, she falls to pieces. She can’t openly weep and mourn for “traitors” if her life depends on appearing to be loyal to Joffrey. Most of her grief is suppressed inside. This also includes asking too many questions she doesn’t feel psychologically prepared to hear the answer to. She was there when the decision was made to shuttle Jeyne off to Littlefinger; however, she has no idea this is going to result in Jeyne being sent to a brothel and worse. I would also keep in mind that even if she did ask, it’s not like Cersei or Littlefinger would ever tell her the truth. Why would they? Does she really want to hear lies and have to think about what the horrible truth might be when she can’t do anything about it?  When it comes to Arya, Sansa believes her sister escaped on the ship bound for home. She comforts herself with imagining that Arya is safe and free, and that’s enough to keep her going.  

And she prays and sings for Jeyne, wherever she is.

She sang for mercy, for the living and the dead alike, for Bran and Rickon and Robb, for her sister Arya and her bastard brother Jon Snow, away off on the Wall. She sang for her mother and her father, for her grandfather Lord Hoster and her uncle Edmure Tully, for her friend Jeyne Poole, for old drunken King Robert, for Septa Mordane and Ser Dontos and Jory Cassel and Maester Luwin... -- Sansa V, ACOK.

It’s only until later in the books that Sansa feels emotionally at peace enough to start remembering the good times with Arya and Jeyne without breaking down into tears. We can also see the conflicts weren’t always a thing, and the love was strong with all three.

Sansa began to make snowballs, shaping and smoothing them until they were round and white and perfect. She remembered a summer's snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning. They'd each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she'd had none. Bran had been perched on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach, but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she'd slipped on some ice. Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn't, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing. -- Sansa VII, ASOS.

It was most unladylike, but Alayne sound found herself laughing. For just a little while, as she ran, she forget who she was, and where, and found herself remembering bright cold days at Winterfell, when she would race through Winterfell with her friend Jeyne Poole, with Arya running after them trying to keep up. -- Alayne I, TWOW.

So it’s not even that the girls only bond through confiding. They run, play, and roughhouse with each other. It’s interesting that AGOT!Sansa tried to be so mature and proper, but now that she’s older, she’s remembering how good and freeing it was just to be a kid. But let’s not act like this part of the story is over. Jeyne is still very much alive and seems likely to run into Arya in Braavos. We can almost be 100% certain that Sansa will find out the truth about what happened to Jeyne and what Littlefinger did to her (and her parents), then watch out. Sansa will turn all that buried pain into a righteous fury at Littlefinger.  

Now as for Sansa being mean for “no reason.” Um... yeah, LOL. Sometimes she’s just a total unwarranted bitch to her sister, and it’s not meant to be a good look. Sometimes she’s superficial, insufferably immature and annoying, judgmental and prejudiced AND THAT’S OKAY. I mean, she sounds no better or worse than your average middle-schooler if they were of the privileged nobility. Guess what? Sometimes preteens are really like that. Sometimes siblings have ugly, knockdown drag out fights where they say horrible things to each other. Most will grow past those phases and still wind up just as loving and close. It’s realistic and believable. Sansa has flaws, but they aren’t deep moral flaws. She does an amazing job at growing, learning, and overcoming those flaws over the course of the books. In TWOW, she’s warm and affectionate with people, easy-going, nonjudgmental, and genuinely more mature than ever. She took the stick out of her ass and became a happier person for it. What’s the problem? What did you want her to be? Perfect? Unfailingly kind and loved by everyone all the time? She’d be a saint, not a multifaceted human being. Even with her occasional ugly side, Sansa is still a strong, smart, compassionate badass. I don’t care if some people don’t like her as she is written or if they vilify her with their misinterpretations or ignore her strengths. What bearing does that have on GRRM’s vision for her character? He never set out to write any character that the whole fandom would either unanimously love or hate.    

This is not bad writing. This NOT bad writing. This is GOOD writing.

*Sigh* Listen... this whole nonsense about Sansa being to blame for Ned’s demise has been going on since ASOIAF was written on clay tablets. You don’t have to listen to every stupid thing the fandom says about anything. It’s just factually wrong. End of story. This misinterpretation and reader inattentiveness is not GRRM’s fault, because he lays out all the details of everything that went down between Arya, Ned, and Sansa’s POV as it was happening. It’s totally understandable why an upset and frustrated Sansa would go to Cersei, the mother figure she implicitly trusts and admires. She didn’t go to Cersei to betray her father’s plans. She went to the queen to intercede in what she thought had to be some big misunderstanding, having no idea what was really going on or at stake. 

This is not OOC for her to go to Cersei after Lady’s death. The hand that killed Lady was her own father’s, a undeniable breach of trust that wounded their relationship. Ned just doesn’t really do a lot to deal with the emotional aftermath either. Ned and Sansa are very similar in turning a blind eye when confronted with unpleasantness from someone they love. Ned is also at that moment disillusioned with Robert’s failure to do the right thing after the Trident incident. He begs Robert in the name of their brotherly love and the love he bore Lyanna, and Robert turns his back on Ned anyway. Yet Ned immediately goes right back to believing in the best of Robert’s nature, despite all evidence to the contrary. Every sign points to this being a one-sided friendship with Robert being lazy, irresponsible, and completely selfish. Like father, like daughter. Sansa has a very hard time accepting that Joffrey and Cersei are not the people she thought they were, even when she’s seen some cracks. And since she can’t understand her father’s actions and the communication has been shot to hell between them, of course she runs to Cersei with her problems. Cersei can flip a switch and pretend to be kind, loving, and understanding. 

This is so typical of a teenage thought process:  “Dad just doesn’t understand and he’s making a big mistake. I don’t understand why he’s doing this. He doesn’t get how important this is to me. This will all work out if a sympathetic adult steps in and fixes it. Everything will turn out great and we’ll all be happy.” While Sansa is pouring her heart out about how it isn’t fair she can’t say goodbye to Joffrey, Cersei pretends to be that sympathetic mother figure that really understands her. How hard would it be then to pump Sansa for information? Like “Oh my sweet little dove. I know how much you love my son. Don’t worry. I’ll help you straighten this out. You said your father wants to send you away? How? When? What’s the name of that ship again?”  

And that line from Cersei’s POV is horseshit. Cersei is a liar and regularly lies in her POV to absolve herself of responsibility and force the blame entirely on others. In this case, Cersei is acting like she didn’t totally manipulate a trusting child to betray her.  We also know this is a lie because Ned was the one that told her himself of his plans to reveal the invest and remove her as queen. Sansa had nothing to do with that. All Sansa did was give Cersei information that allowed Cersei the opportunity to take her hostage before the girls could leave by ship. Cersei’s plans against Ned were already well underway. Sansa never came to her with the intent of knowingly betraying anyone, but she did have selfish reasons for going to the queen to complain in the first place. GRRM said himself that Sansa wasn’t to blame for Ned’s capture or death, but she did play a role in the events that transpired. That’s fair. All that makes her is a kid who made a not entirely innocent mistake, but a mistake nonetheless, which she immediately learned from. Does she trust Cersei or Joffrey again? Hell no.  

Relax, anon. It’s fine for her to not be nice all the time. It’s fine for her to have some realistic, garden variety flaws. It’s one of the most universal human mistakes to fall too hard and fast for the wrong person, act the fool over them despite all the red flags, only to realize you only saw what you wanted to see in them. And Sansa learned this lesson at eleven when some adults haven’t learned it at all. Relax. She’s a great, well-written, relatable character who has overcome most of these issues successfully.  

#Sansa stark meta #sansa stark #sansa stark characterization #asoiaf characterization #arya stark #jeyne poole #ned stark #asoiaf commentary #fandom nonsense #Anonymous #my meta

[troop-scoop]

Mistakes & Regrets XXII

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Swearing, violence

• • • 

It was pretty much known by everybody who you were friends with that Steve hated your driving. And by hate, you meant it. 

He was genuinely shocked when the DMV gave you your license. You were always going over the speed limit, and taking sharp turns. His least favorite thing you did? Not slowing down at bumps or potholes.

So, you were hoping he wouldn’t wake up while you were driving. Dustin, Max, Mike and Steve were all crowded in the back seat of the car, but Lucas was next to you with the map, even though you knew your way to this farm because you went there to get a pumpkin for Will a few days before Halloween. 

“Y/n?” 

You looked in the rearview mirror, seeing Steve turned and looking at Mike. You redirected your attention to the road, choosing not to let him know that you were the one driving. 

“No don’t touch it” Dustin told him. Though you couldn’t see what he was telling Steve not to touch. “Hey, buddy. . .” Dustin shushed a bit. 

You continued driving, occasionally glancing at the map even if it was so dark you couldn’t really see anything. 

“It’s okay, you put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but you put up a good fight. You’re okay.”

“Okay, you’re gonna keep straight for a half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai.” You nodded in response to Lucas’ instructions. 

“What’s going on?”

You didn’t want to look at Steve but you did anyway. Quickly sparing a look over your shoulder before turning back to the front. 

“Oh, my God.” 

“Hey, relax, she has her license.” Dustin tried to soothe as if Steve was an infant. 

“Yeah, and she barely passed the driving test.” Mike pointed out. You were gonna kill Nancy for coming with you to the DMV. 

“That still counts.” Max and Lucas both pointed out. 

“Steve, dude, need you to chill-”

“Oh, my God!”  He repeated, now fully awake and realizing the situation he was in, crowded around a bunch of middle schoolers with you driving. 

“They were gonna leave you behind.”

You could feel the stress rising in the back seat as Steve continued to repeat himself as he sat up, with Dustin trying to calm him down. 

“Fuck it.” You muttered, speeding up. Your nerves were getting the best of you. You wanted Eleven to be okay, you wanted Will to be okay. 

“Oh, my God! No! Whoa! Stop the car. Slow down!”

You tried to tune them out, with Mike, Dustin and Steve all yelling in the back seat, and Max looking more annoyed by the second.

“Shut up!” She yelled at them “She needs to focus!” 

You were sure it wasn’t a very pleasant way to wake up after getting your ass kicked by a racist. You saw the road coming up and took a sharp turn, which resulted in the squeaking of Billy’s tires and Steve screaming even louder. 

You came to a sudden spot when Mike yelled that you were there at the hole. You remained quiet, sniffling a little bit and turning the engine off. 

Getting out of the car you went to the drunk, unlocking it and letting the kids get what they needed to set up. 

You grabbed the gun, tucking it into your jeans. Taking the red bandana and swimming goggles, you looked over to the side of the car where Steve fell onto the dirt, loosing his balance 

The kids got their goggles and bandanas, having fully understood you when you said that the atmosphere down there was toxic. Because it was just an expansion of the Upside Down. 

Walking over to Steve you handed him the bandana and goggles, knowing you didn’t really need them. If you were immune to the atmosphere a year ago, it wouldn’t really change now. 

He tried to get your attention as you walked away but you couldn’t look at him. The tears felt like they were coming back every time you did.

You’d never let him know that you cried the entire time you were gathering things to get in the car. You were practically sobbing while going about your business, barely making it out of the driveway because your vision was blurry from your tears. 

You stood at the hood of the car while Mike came over with a canister of gasoline and the rope, bending down to tie it to the front bumper. 

“You got it?” You asked, wiping away a bit of snot. You hated crying, and the after effects. 

You could hear Steve yelling about how he said no to this plan, that he wasn’t going to allow it. But if you had to go down there alone, you would. 

“Yeah.” He said quietly. “You okay?” 

“Peachy.” You responded with little enthusiasm, which Mike picked up on, but refused to say anything. 

Walking back to the trunk you grabbed Steve’s arm, catching his attention as he took your backpack from Dustin.

“If you’re not with me, you are my enemy.” You said in a gentle and joking manner, only getting a confused grin from him. “You won’t understand that. . . for a long time.” He looked even more confused as you walked over to the hole as Mike dropped the rope down into it. 

Steve and Dustin quickly followed after you. It smelled familiar. And you could feel how cold it was already. Taking a deep breath you looked at the boys, who gave you an uncertain look through their goggles. 

Stepping closer to the hole. Steve grabbed your wrist, stopping you from moving. “What are you doing?” 

“Going down there? To commit interdimensional arson?” 

“Why don’t you have any of this?” Steve gestured to his bandana and pair of goggles he’d gotten on within seconds. 

“I don’t really need it.” You said softly, pulling your wrist away and jumping down into the hole. You landed with your knees bent and in total darkness.

You froze up. It felt like it was all rushing back, and you lowered yourself onto your knees, the gooey feeling on your jeans also familiar and not uncomfortable. You could remember the sound of rain, and yelling out for your dad, having regretted running as soon as the storm started. And you tried to find your way back, but you stepped over one rock, and all of a sudden you fell into what felt exactly like this.

You remembered having your hoodie on, and your hair up. Your shoes had been soaked from the rain. You still had them somewhere in your apartment. A pair of damaged black vans. 

You could suddenly remember taking your first shower at the motel, watching as the dirt, blood and sweat went down the drain. You hadn’t been able to remember your first night at the motel since you’d been there. 

You remembered taking the shower after buying a completely new outfit, from a store, just so you could feel comfortable. You remembered the odd looks you got from everyone, and staying quiet after you saw the date in a newspaper. You’d put it together far quicker than you’d imagined. You’d enrolled yourself into the highschool quickly, got a wardrobe together, and tried to act normal. You remembered all of it now. 

“Y/n? Hey, c’mon, look at me, are you okay?” Steve grabbed your face, making you look at him. But all you could see was his bruised forehead and his eyes through the tinted goggles. 

“Yeah.” You answered simply. You could suddenly remember the last time your dad hugged you, and how tight it had been. Like he’d known that something was going to happen, or that it’d be the last time. But you hadn’t. 

“I’m fine.” 

Steve helped you onto your feet, and you reached for whoever’s hand was closest, and that just so happened to be Steve’s. 

You started your trek down the tunnels, every step reminding you of what happened. You pretty much zoned out on everything. Ignoring everything that was said and remembering how quiet it had been except for those things that you always hid from. You were good at hiding as a little kid, and even now. Lockdown drills didn’t help.

But you did snap out of it when you heard screaming. Turning back you saw Mike and Lucas run back, and you went after them. Mike was yelling for Dustin and when you came to a large opening, you saw Dustin on the ground, coughing.

Kneeling down you had a grip on his shoulders as he coughed. He had a grip on you too, using you as a bit of balance. 

He stopped and looked up at you, seeing how worried you were. “I’m okay.” 

It was anticlimatic. 

You nodded a bit. “Okay.” You agreed, grabbing the end edge of his bandana and pulling it over the nose of his scuba mask and helping him back up. You walked with Dustin most of the way after that, a hand on his shoulder and the other on Mike’s as they followed Steve’s lead. 

“Alright, Wheeler. I think we found your hub.” 

Steve was right, the other tunnels all leading to this one spot. That everyone shined their flashlight on. 

And instead of a constant feeling of reliving that short month in the Upside Down, you took the gas canister that Mike had been carrying for you. “Let’s drench it.” He spoke as you uncapped it. Everyone did the same, With Lucas spraying the higher walls of the hub while the rest of you got the lower parts, and the floor. The smell was overwhelming, like a gas station but a thousand times worse. And usually you liked the smell.

“Alright, c’mon. Everybody get back.” 

You looked up at Steve, seeing that he was gesturing back to the way you’d come. You dropped your canister, and went to the tunnel.

You were all gathered together, and Steve looked at you. “You still have my lighter?” Nodding, you reached into the pocket of his jacket and handed it to him. 

“Alright, you guys ready?”

“Yeah.” You answered. With everyone else answering as well. 

He opened the lighter and ignited it, the small flame lighting up a small area, before he tossed it into the puddle of gasoline. What you’d all poured into it lit up 

The vines on the floor began to make sounds and flail in the air, almost as if it was in pain. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care if it was in pain. 

“Go, go, go!” Steve shouted. You grabbed Lucas, Dustina and Mike who all took longer than Max, who took off running.

You pushed them all ahead of you and began to run yourself, with Steve behind you. You all ran, not really caring if you were cautious at this point. 

Steve grabbed onto your arm and started to pull you along with him when he almost passed you.

He let go of you when he made sure you weren’t completley behind him or the kids, but right along side Mike. 

You grabbed onto Mike’s hand, trying to make sure you didn’t lose him or he didn’t get lost.

Mike tripped on one of the vines and fell onto the ground. “Steve!” You shouted. While Mike screamed ‘help’ 

They came running back, with Lucas going to the other side of Mike as Steve brought the bat down onto the vine. You pulled Mike away and grabbed his face. “Are you okay?” 

He gave an urgent nod as you helped him stand back up. 

Before any of you could make a run for it again, you heard the familiar growling from a demodog as Dustin liked to call it. 

You still held onto Mike, an arm around his shoulders, holding him close like you would if he were your own brother. You also had an arm out, acting as a shield for Lucas, as Dustin stepped forward. 

You didn’t feel scared, just anxious, with your heart beating a million miles a second, having had both Dustin and Mike fall on the way at some point. Mike had his flashlight pointed at Dart, but his other hand had a death grip on the back of your shirt. 

“Dart.” Dustin spoke, taking a small step forward. 

In unison all of you started speaking, telling him to get back or that it was a bad idea. “Sh! Trust me, please.” He continued to walk over to the thing. Both you and Steve shared a look as your grip on Mike stayed the same. 

The four kids were family to you your entire life, they would have done anything to protect you just like your dad would have done for their kids. So you’d do anything to protect them now. 

“It’s me, It’s Dustin, You remember me?” He asked, kneeling down in front of him, his goggles and mask off. “Will you let us pass?”

  Dart opened his mouth and growled, showing off the tiny teeth decorating the petal like flaps. You pulled Mike closer and grabbed Lucas’ hand who stepped behind you. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I”m sorry about the storm cellar.”

“I’m not.” You murmured to yourself. 

“That was a pretty douchey thing to do. You hungry? Yeah?” Dustin took his backpack off, reaching into it and pulled out a three musketeers. 

“He’s insane.” Lucas mumbled. You only nodded in agreement. While Steve told him to shut up. 

“I’ve got our favorite. See? Nougat.” Dustin began to unwrap the candy bar. “Look at that. Yummy. Here, all right? Eat up, buddy.”

Dustin gestured for you all to go past Dart without looking at at any of you. Steve went first, then Max, and then you, Mike and Lucas. Mike and you still having a tight grip on each other and Lucas using you as a bit of a shield, and you didn’t blame him. 

You all stopped once past Dart and Dustin, and saw as Dart looked back at Dustin. “Goodbye, buddy.” Dustin told him, puling his mask and goggles back on, before turning to the rest of you and following. 

Things just kept popping up however, as when you’d barely gotten far from Dart, the tunnel shook, and you could hear distant growling from multiple demodogs. 

“They’re coming.” Mike realized, having taken your hand after you’d let him go. “Run!” He yelled with everyone instantly following what he said and running towards the rope. 

Once there, Steve helped Max up onto the ground, then Lucas, as well as Mike and Dustin. 

“Shit.” You mumbled, hearing the demodogs get closer. You pulled the gun from your Jeans as Steve stepped in front of you, bending his knees enough so you could aim over his shoulder. 

And much to your surprise, instead of attacking, they went around the two of you, acting as if you were just rocks in their way. 

Steve turned and grabbed you with his free hand, keeping you close and out of their way as the two of you watched them run. 

“Okay. . .” Steve mumbled, looking down at you. “Your turn.” He told you dropping the bat and leaning down to grab you from around the knees, and lifting you up to the rope. 

You had a firm grip on it and climbed the couple of inches you needed before Mike and Max grabbed you, helping to pull you out, and then you did the same for Steve, pulling him out as he tossed the bat to the side. 

The headlights of Billy’s car grew brighter for a few seconds, forcing you to shield your eyes. But it was gone as soon as it had come. 

• • • 

Stepping out of the car you were met with Billy sitting on the porch, and the door opening as Joyce came out. The worry on her face was unmistakable. 

“Oh, my God.” He muttered, coming over to you and hugging you. You were both sweaty and gross, but you understood the reaction. She’d expected for you all to be in house when she came back with Will. “You’re okay?” She asked, pulling away and holding your face in her hands. 

You nodded, forcing a tired smile. “I’m alive.” You couldn’t say you were okay, because you knew you weren't. But you were alive, and that was enough for you. 

“Y/n!” Looking over Joyce’s shoulder you saw Will, Jonathan and Nancy coming out as well. Smiling you walked over to Will who came over and hugged you. 

“Hey,” You greeted, hugging him back. 

“It wanted me to kill you.” 

“I know, kid. But you didn’t.” You reminded him, pulling away and smiling down at him. You could see your brother in him. The smile and the tired look in his eyes. “It’s an okay night.” 

“Hey, guys.” You looked at Nancy and Jonathan who smiled back. Eleven and Hopper got back at the same time as you, So Mike and her had gone to each other, and everyone stood around, exhausted and ready to crash. 

“Nancy, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas can stay here for the night, to get some rest.” Joyce told them. “Y/n, Steve, you’re welcome to stay too.” 

Looking over at Steve you could see how exhausted he was, and looking over to Joyce you looked down at Will, who you still had an arm around. “We. . . can get a ride to my apartment. We both need showers.” You told her. 

She nodded and reached over to you, a hand on your cheek that you subconsciously leaned a bit into. 

“I’ll drive them.” Hopper offered to Joyce. 

You nodded a bit, looking over to Steve. “We’ll get the BMW tomorrow morning, yeah?” He nodded in response. 

“We should go now, before he passes out here.” You told Hopper, but really, you could see how Steve was looking at Billy. 

“Let’s go.” 

• • • 

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers​ @nxncywheeler​ @yllwtaxi​ @songofcosplay​ @potatopooper05​ @cheesecakeisapie @robinsdolan​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​  @bisexualpears​ @ilovebucketbarnes​ @random-thoughts-003​ @mochminnie  @abbyg217​​ @stevexscoops​​ @cashmereandtears​​ @iris-suoh​​ @supred12 @ohmyitsfaith​ @beyond-the-gone​

#steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington slow burn

[watchingspn-blog]

spn rewatch | the woman in white (pilot)

Okay so I can safely say I’ve seen the pilot episode at least half a dozen times, if not more. I got season one on DVD for my 14th birthday (which I 100% binged with my BFF at the time to the point where we were beyond exhausted for my actual birthday festivities the next day) and would watch over and over in the days before Netflix. So for me the first couple of seasons are way more familiar to me than the later seasons. Especially since at some point after I started college when I didn’t have as easy access to television and streaming services weren’t quite what they are today I fell off the bandwagon. Pretty much everything I know about the show from mid-season eight onwards comes from gif sets on Tumblr and the occasional Facebook posts. Which brings me to this rewatch/first time viewing. 

It’s easily been at least three or four years since I’ve watched the pilot but it’s still so familiar to me which I feel like says a lot for the show. Or just says that I was way too obsessed with this show as a teenager. But anyway, here we go.

First of all, I don’t know about anyone else but I’m honestly a little weirded out by seeing JDM looking younger and not having a beard. Like it’s strange to me and I don’t know how to feel about it and I’m glad this is the only scene where he looks like this. The beard does him wonders in all walks of life and I’m glad it’s a look he’s stuck with in just about everything he’s in these days. (Also you can totally see one of JDM’s tattoos under the sleeve of his t-shirt and it just makes me want to headcanon John with a couple tattoos from his time in the service despite looking so clean cut when they have the flashbacks with Matt Cohen.)

Secondly, I want to know when they came up with the backstory that Mary was a hunter and came from a family of hunters and that she’d been in that life before she settled down with John. Because I feel like if that backstory had been mapped out before the pilot her reactions when she woke up to the baby monitor would be more suspicious. But that could also be me just being too picky. Like it’s totally valid that Mary, just waking up didn’t pick up on the static or the flickering lights. I just want to know if they’d had her history in mind when this started or if that came up later once they’d developed the story and characters more. 

Okay, so I don’t have any major attachments to Jess, mainly because we just don’t spend enough time with her. She’s got a whole three (?) scenes where she’s mostly delegated to the supportive girlfriend who’s also over-sexualized. Like they seriously chose to introduce a female character and have all of her outfits be revealing to the point where other characters are commenting on it before killing her. Like I have no issues with female characters wearing whatever the fuck they want, there’s nothing wrong with that. But it wasn’t given any more depth than “here’s this sexual object for our audience to look at” and that’s what bugs me. But I am glad that they showed her being genuinely concerned when Sam is packing like wanting to make sure he’s okay and make sure he’s not doing something reckless for people who’ve actively avoided being in his life over the last few years. She’s incredibly supportive of Sam and it makes me happy that he had that in his life even if I do hate that it was taken away in a horribly gruesome way.

Adrianne Palicki is just ridiculously talented and deserves way more recognition than she’s gotten over the years. 

Now, I’m gonna be real. I was a Dean girl from the get go. I loved me a smartass bad boy when I was thirteen and I was head over heels for Jensen Ackles from the first time I saw this show (probably because I’d never seen him anything else before but I already knew Jared as Dean from Gilmore Girls who wasn’t my favorite as a middle schooler). It also probably doesn’t hurt that I saw an episode of season two as my first intro to the show instead of the pilot. Because honestly, watching his first scene as a 26 year old, he doesn’t come off in the best light. Between breaking into Sam’s apartment, their whole tussle in the dark living room, and then him hitting on Jess right in front of Sam, he’s kind of an ass. Which yes, Dean is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. All of these characters are fucked up, especially after fourteen seasons and counting. But this just doesn’t line up with how Dean is in the rest of season one even, I feel like. 

Like Dean telling Jess that she’s way out of Sam’s league is one thing. I expect nothing less from him. But then him just being creepy and ogling her is just uncomfortable to watch now. 

Also the lighting budget for the entire first season is just horrendous. It’s like they wanted to show that they were scary and edgy but really it just meant I couldn’t make out what was happening in any scene that didn’t take place in broad daylight. 

Okay, on to the spooks. Having a woman in white for the first MOTW (monster of the week) was kind of cool to me because it was something I actually knew about before the show, thanks to reading any and every book on ghosts my school library had to offer. And Sarah Shahi is super gorgeous. Like hot damn. And as cheesy as some of the effects are in the earlier episodes, I actually like the way that she kind of flickers in and out along the side of the road as Troy’s driving up and then the way you don’t actually see her in the passenger seat when it shows her getting in. None of the effects are too crazy over the top (at least not until the very end of the episode when she finally goes home and has that weird as fuck death scene with her creepy kids) and it works.

As a thirteen year old, I thought it was totally believable that Sam and Dean could be US marshals and the local cops were just being jerks. As a twenty-six year old, the idea that those two could pass as any kind of law enforcement other than like maybe a couple of rookie cops is ridiculous. I’m the same age that Dean was at the start of the show and I’ve got people assuming I’m still in high school. I couldn’t get past the crime scene tape for anything. But I guess if you’re confident enough and tall enough, anything’s possible. Also as if they didn’t already look hella conspicuous, they act like a couple of five year olds with all their stomping and smacking, like no wonder the cops were suspicious. 

Also can we take a moment to appreciate the awesome mid-2000s goth look Amy and her friend are rocking? Because it’s fantastic and I’m here for it. Also kudos to them for being the only women to make it to the end of the episode alive. 

I never really thought about it when I was younger but it’s not surprising that Sam isn’t as gung ho about hunting down the demon that killed Mary like John and Dean are. His memories of Mary are entirely built on stories and pictures and not from anything he actually remembers himself. And like it’s totally valid for him to want to get away from the hunter lifestyle and follow a different path instead of just killing monsters and running credit card scams for the rest of his life. 

All I can think about when they break into the room John was renting is that gif of Charlie from Always Sunny with all the papers and strings on the walls. 

One of the better aspects of Supernatural, in my opinion, are the actors they get to randomly guest star on the show. And not necessarily big names (although those can be fun) but like the ones that you’ve never seen anywhere else. Because the guy who plays Joseph Welch is fantastic in his one scene on screen. There’s so much emotion there as he’s talking about a clearly sensitive subject and being able to show the grief and also some of the guilt over being unfaithful. It’s a fantastic scene so like major shoutout to Steve Railsback for being awesome.

The whole showdown with Constance’s ghost is kind of like mediocre compared to future fights. Like it’s a pretty quick scene and the effects once they actually get her to the house to face her creepy children are kind of the worst. Like they used their whole special effects budget doing that flickering thing in her first scene and had to settle for this instead. Also like yes they stopped her and she won’t be able to kidnap and kill skeezy men in the future but like I feel kind of bad for Amy and Troy’s family because they’re just left with zero closure whatsoever. Like I never thought about it but there are a lot of people over the years where it’s like yes we stopped the monster but those families never actually know what happened to their loved ones. 

Okay, I get that it’s supposed to be a serious, intense scene, and the first time I saw it - yes it was shocking and heartbreaking and terrifying but the effects for Jess’s appearance on the ceiling are just bad. She doesn’t look like a person, she looks like a mannequin. And I’m still annoyed that they brought her in and showed how much her and Sam loved and cared for each other only to kill her horribly at the end of the episode. It’s just frustrating. And honestly this should’ve warned all of us that pretty much no female character is safe on this show. None of them. 

The “we’ve got work to do” at the end is still hella iconic. Like there’s a couple of lines that still give me that little excitement I got when I first watched it and that’s one of them. I love it. 

BODY COUNT: 3 humans (Mary Winchester, Troy Squire, Jessica Moore), 1 ghost (Constance Welch - do her kids count too? They didn’t really show up until was time for Constance to like melt into the floor all creepy like)

RATING: 7/10 - the effects are kind of garbage and there’s some stuff that hasn’t aged well but I still think this is one of the better pilots I’ve seen as far as getting you hooked into the story and characters. 

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural rewatch #watchingspn #idk if anyone's going to read this but if you do thank you #and if you want to talk about the show pls hit me up #i'd love to talk with others about it #spnrewatch*

[littlemisskookie]

Hades

Hades Prologue Poseidon Aphrodite Ares Artemis Interlude Hades Hermes Zeus Ship: Yoongi | Reader Description: You meet a rather dreamy- albeit annoying, new kid who sweeps you off your feet. Too bad it’s in the middle of a series of murders around town. Warnings: Daddy Kink, Spanking, Anal, Ass-Play, Degrading, Intercourse, Blowjob, Handjob, Dirty Talk, D/S themes, Fingering, Oral, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Violence, Death, Angst, Horror Word Count: 9,487 A/N: Yay! Finally finished!

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YES or NO

Restarting...

"I can't believe that another one was killed last night," your friend Rosé shuddered, scrolling through the latest news. "I mean, how could they have not caught them yet? It's insane."

"Mhm," you groggily mumbled along, eyes firmly shut, and your head leaning against your hand, propped up by the elbow against the desk. God, you were so tired. When was this class going to end? You'd be at home sleeping if attendance wasn't a 15% part of your semester average.

"Listen to this- the latest victim is a girl our age. The first one an old man, the second a little boy, the third a middle-aged woman, and on and on- but this is the first one with a college student!" Rosé gasped. "God, I know they're going for literally anyone they could get their hands on, but this just gets me more scared. Doesn't it? Aviva? Aviva, are you even listening to me?"

"Mhm," you murmur again. Honestly, what was the point of coming to this 7 AM class when you were too tired to learn anything, and Rosé was always too busy chattering in your ear?

Rosé rolled her eyes. "You know, I don't see why you don't get any sleep. You haven't gotten a wink it seems. You're too pent up on coffee?"

"No," you say, not daring to open your eyes. "I'm just scared."

"Because of the killer?" She scoffed. "They only come out at night, with their victims in the street. I mean, sure, I wouldn't put it past them to break in- but even I'm able to rest easier behind locked doors."

"Sure," you hum again, feeling the impending drowsiness come over you. There were murders going around town, true. Rather gruesome, actually. Sometimes the body was beaten with a bat, otherwise stabbed in the face numerous times. But each time they'd have their veins halfway ripped from their forearms, dangling out. That, and they'd also have their finger and toenails ripped out, scattered around their corpse. More times than not the eyes would be dangling out of their sockets, still attached. Almost as though someone stuck their finger in there, dug it around, and popped it out. You didn't like thinking about it.

"Are you talking about the murders?" a new voice emerges. It sounded like one you didn't recognize.

"Yeah," your friend answers. "Say, aren't you the new kid? Min Yoongi, right? Sorry you had to transfer here in the middle of these murders. Must make you want to go back home, huh?"

Yoongi shrugs. "Home's kinda depressing. Besides, there's death everywhere, I suppose."

"I guess that's true," Rosé nods but has a pout on her face. She looks at you with annoyance, your snoring being heard.

Yoongi swiped your elbow off the desk but places his palm on the desk for your forehead to bounce off of. You snap up, awake, staring up at the stranger.

"Fucking hell, what's your problem, asshole?" you exclaim, infuriated.

"It's rude to fall asleep during a conversation," he smirked slightly. "Besides, class is almost over."

You see your friend laughing, to which you return a glare. Looking back at the man, you give him a once over. "Well, I certainly didn't need your help. A nice tap on the shoulder would've sufficed."

"That wouldn't have worked," he says. "Trust me, I know."

"Aren't you that new kid?" you ask him.

"The name's Yoongi. I suggest you learn it," he smiles, cocking his head to the side. Fuck, he was hot. Annoyingly so. You wanted to slap the stupid grin off his face. Well, maybe you also wanted to make out with it. What if you kissed him then slapped him? It's not like he would see it coming.

You shook the thoughts from your head, unsure about this smoldering attraction you had to the man. "Dickwad suits you better, fuckface."

"Which is it?" Yoongi questions, amused by your hot-tempered attitude.

"Whatever the hell I want it to be," you countered.

"Would you two who are arguing please leave the classroom? You're causing a disturbance," your teacher yelled, causing your cheeks to burn with embarrassment.

Rosé snickers, giving a falsely sympathetic smile. "I'll see you after class," she whispers as you begrudgingly get your stuff. You glare back, giving a huff. At least class was almost over.

Yoongi gets his stuff as well, cocking his arm out as though to escort you. You roll your eyes, shoving past him and marching out. The minute you were out the door you tossed your bag against the wall and sat down. Yoongi soon exited as well, sitting beside you.

"Why're you waiting outside the classroom?" Yoongi asks you as he sinks down.

"Rosé is my ride," you huff, glaring at him. "What do you want?"

"Well, I feel bad for getting you kicked out of class," he admits quietly, a calm, serene expression on his face. You were surprised by his genuine expression, and how he genuinely seemed to be sorry for his actions. His eyes were pretty, you noted. Dark. Kind of like little black holes you could see yourself diving into to escape this universe. If only. "Though it was kinda your fault for screaming so much."

And then it was gone.

You rolled your eyes. "You're the one who knocked my head off."

"You were the one sleeping in class- if you were caught snoring you would've embarrassed yourself further. You're lucky I took the fall with you."

"I do not snore!" you defend, gawking at him.

He gave you a gummy smile, and despite how rude and cocky he seemed, butterflies flew in your stomach. Fuck this dreamy and obnoxious new kid for being so damn attractive but not having the personality to make you willingly head over heels. "Oh, you definitely do."

"Well then, thank you for being my knight in shining armor," you sputter sarcastically, oozing with the venom you intended it to have. "But I don't need rescuing."

"I know," he says softly. There's a moment of silence that hung between the two of you, and you felt awkward, simply staring down at your feet.

You hear the air conditioner in the hallway turn on, and soon enough goosebumps begin to prickle along your arms. You rub them, cursing yourself for not wearing long sleeves. Yoongi begins to tug off his hoodie, and you look at him in alarm.

"What are you doing? It's freezing," you say.

"Exactly," he notes. "I'm giving you my hoodie."

"What? No! You don't have to do that," you assure him.

"I'm just being polite," he rolls his eyes. "Do you want the hoodie or not?"

You pause for a moment, thinking it over. You hang your head low, not daring to look him in those dazzling eyes as you hold your hand out reluctantly. "Yes, please."

You were sure he was wearing a grin, and you feel his cold hand touch yours as he hands you the hoodie. You look up at him, startled. "Oh my god, your hands are freezing!" They seriously felt as though they were made of ice.

"Yeah, they are," he says.

"Are you sure you're not the one who needs a hoodie?" you ask him.

"Don't worry about me. My hands are cold no matter what I do," he assures you. You stare at him for a moment, but decide to slip on the hoodie. There was always something comforting about wearing guy clothes. How it would smell like their cologne and it was many sizes too big for you. Yoongi's hoodie oddly reminded you of pomegranates, and you tried to resist the urge to smell it while he was right next to you.

"Thank you," you say quietly.

"Mhm," he hums, tapping his foot as he looks off to the other side. You swore, his cheeks looked rosy. Maybe it was just the lighting.

The door swings open, and your classmates spill out, and soon enough you saw your friend Rosé in front of you, looking rather cheeky to see you two sitting together. "Are you wearing his hoodie?" she asked you, raising a suspicious brow.

"Oh, yeah, I am," you cough. You begin to slip it off, "I'll give it back-"

"Keep it," he says. "You can give it back to me next time you have an opportunity." You're about to protest, but soon enough your friend is dragging you away, clearly not wanting you to give up the present the dreamy new kid got you.

"I knew you guys were flirting!" Rosé exclaimed in the car, her grin wide.

"What?" you exclaim. "Absolutely not! He's a dick."

"Why're you wearing his hoodie then? Doesn't seem like a dick move to me," she giggled in response.

"You're just too much of a romantic," you roll your eyes. "Look, he just... I guess..."

"You're blushing!" she accuses.

"I'm not!" you protest. "Ok, so he gave me his hoodie, so what? Even fuck faces like him have manners."

"You're totally into him," Rosé gushes. "God, with you two bickering like an old married couple-"

"If any couple bickers like that, they need to get some counseling," you interject.

"C'mon, there are many types of flirting, and yours was clearly the one of well- how do I put this? Elementary schoolers."

You deadpan. "What."

"You know... The guy acts stupid and bugs the girl for her attention, and she gets all mad at him because she doesn't want him to know how she feels," your friend giggles. "It's totally obvious."

"No, no, no! He might be the hottest guy I've ever seen, and absolutely dreamy, but he's a total tool!"

"Did you just call him dreamy?" Rosé squeals. "God, if he wasn't already into you, I'd totally nab him! Lucky."

"Excuse me? He's not into me! He's a grown man, they don't act like that." Now you knew you were blushing. You could feel your face burn.

"Have you seen the way he looked at you?" she gushed. "I mean... People look at the ones they love as though it's the first time. It seemed as though he looked at you like you were in every lifetime together."

"What romcom's ass did you pull that out of?" you roll your eyes.

"Stop being a total dick, I made it up myself," Rosé responded.

"Just admit you're trying to put something there that's not," you deadpan.

She rolls her eyes. "Insiders just can't see it the same way we can. You're surrounded by that cloud of love, that's what I think. Makes you blind to the possibilities."

You woke up, blinking up at the ceiling and taking in your surroundings. Your head hurt. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. Definition of the year. You blinked slowly, rubbing your head with your arm, but then you feel the bandage on your hand. You stare at it and finally look around your room.

Well, for one, it wasn't your room, per say.

You shot up, pain prickling towards your forehead. "Fuck," you muttered, hunching over to try to calm down, the overwhelming pain having your mind spinning. This wasn't a hangover. Something definitely happened last night- a no-brainer. But as for what...

The door opened, and you were shocked to see none other than Yoongi.

"Before you ask, nothing sexual happened between us last night. We ran into each other in the street- you said you couldn't sleep and went for a walk. But during it, we got attacked- and your head hit the wall from the assailant. Even cut your hand with the blade they had. They ran before I could catch them, so I took you to my place and treated you. I take it you don't remember anything that happened last night?"

You stared at him. "You're lucky I feel half dead because I'm so close to strangling you right now."

Yoongi shrugged. "I figured."

"Was the person who attacked me... was it the killer?" Your heart dropped at the thought that you could've died had Yoongi not been with you.

"It could be anyone's guess, but I'll say yes," Yoongi sighed. "I went through the explanations- it's the most reasonable one."

You feel your heart rate quicken, and you're short of breath. "Oh god, oh god! I-I can't believe I could've been killed! How could I be so stupid as to go out on nights like these? I can't believe I'd be so... dumb!"

"You did seem pretty out of it," Yoongi noted. "I told you that you should be catching up on sleep."

"Wait, how do I know you didn't do it? That you didn't hit my head or cut my hand or drug or assault me or any of that?" you accuse, eyes wide with fright. You straighten yourself up, grabbing the closest thing to you- which happened to be the lamp, preparing it as a weapon, aiming for launch. "You're still a stranger- how can I trust you? Not to mention you're a complete dick sometimes!"

"Why would I bring you to my apartment? Why wouldn't I just take advantage of you and leave you on the street? Why wouldn't I kill you, or better yet- leave you for the killer to find? I don't have any proof, but if you don't want to believe me, that's fine. But I promise you, I didn't harm you," Yoongi assured you.

"Fuck you," you spit. "I can't trust you." More pain was brought to your frontal lobe, and you wince, hissing in pain.

Yoongi brings his hand to your forehead, moving his fingers over the area that hurt the most. "I'll get you medicine. If you don't trust me, you can watch me pour the water and bring the Tylenol, to make sure I don't drug or poison you or something."

"I..." you sigh, laying back down in defeat. You didn't want to do this today. Couldn't it be on Hannakuh or something? "No, that's not necessary. At least if I die I won't have to pay my student loans."

Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief. "Fair point," he says, leaving the room. Within moments he comes back with the medicine, and you eye him warily as you take it. You looked around, spotting your phone charging on the nightstand. Picking it up, you notice an amber alert.

The killer was spotted last night.

Your blood drains. "Did you file a police report or something last night?"

"No, I was too busy taking care of you. I thought we could do it in the morning," Yoongi responds, rolling his eyes.

You look up the local news, going through the latest article. "Someone else was attacked last night," you whisper. Reading through the article, you shudder. "The girl was able to fend them off, pushing the killer against the wall. Apparently, they were attacking her, and the weapon they had was a knife. They slashed at her hip area, but she escaped. When the police got to the scene, the killer was nowhere to be found."

"Do they have any clues?"

"Well," you gulp. "There's only one thing for sure- the killer is a woman."

"Oh," Yoongi says. "Well, yes. I knew that much."

Your eyes widen, staring up at him. "Do you know who it is? Did you see her face?"

"No," he coughs awkwardly. "I didn't. She ran away in time and it was too dark for me to get a good glimpse of her. I was more focused on you."

You were quiet, shaken up over the whole thing. "Thank you," you whisper. "I... If what you're saying is true- which it has to be. There's no way you're the killer because it's a woman, and your description of the events matches my injuries... I feel silly. Thank you... for everything."

"It's the right thing to do," he states uncomfortably.

You look up at him. He looks nervous. You note how his bed head looked undeniably sexy on him, and despite the fact you just learned you could've been killed, the first thing that came to mind was morning sex.

Why the hell were you so horny?

You lick your lips, eyes scanning the man before you, and you felt the raw lust and desire clawing to be set free. "Yoongi... I know we got off on the wrong foot," you state hesitantly. That was an understatement. He was purely obnoxious, but now that you saw what good he brought to you, and how he truly was a gentleman... "But how can I make this up to you?"

He gulped. "I, that's not necessary. Any person with half a brain and a heart would've done it."

"I still want to thank you," you say. You sit up again, noting that the medication might be working already since your head didn't hurt nearly as much as before. "Sit beside me, please."

He was hesitant, quirking a brow at you before sitting next to you. You look him in the eye, your faces centimeters apart. You could really smell the pomegranate scene now. It made your mouth water. You'd have to buy some after this.

"Can I kiss you?" you ask him.

He looks blank for a second, and you wonder if you crossed the line. It's only when he nods in confirmation that you attach your lips to his, feeling his hand on your cheek as he presses you firmer against him. The two of you are making out for a few seconds, your eyes fluttered shut as you move your lips against his. Absentmindedly, you place your hand on his thigh, and he moves it off, pulling away from you.

"What's wrong?" you ask him. Did you do something wrong? What happened? It was barely getting hot and heavy.

"I... need to go to the bathroom," he says quickly, exiting.

You blink in surprise, watching as he swiftly left. You awkwardly sat in bed, running the events of what happened in your head. Why were you acting like this suddenly? Just yesterday you hated the guy. Well, before he gave you his hoodie, that is. You hated him a little less, admittedly. And it wasn't like you could deny the fact you were attracted to him since the beginning, at least physically. Not that you'd want to admit it.

Yoongi returned, and your eyes were wide when he grabbed the back of your neck, smashing your lips against yours to fiercely kiss you. You respond willingly, feeling him fall on top of you in a flurry of passion.

You unconsciously spread your legs, moaning into his kiss, and he responds by grinding against you, where you feel the prominent erection hidden beneath his sweats rub against your thigh. His lips attack your neck, and you hear him growl against the soft skin. "God, why can't I ever seem to resist you?"

You arch your back, pressing him closer, rubbing your core against him in circles, taunting him. "Want me to take care of that little problem?" you offer, panting.

"Fuck, yes," he grunts, flipping over on his back.

You feel your head throb slightly as you roll over on your hands and knees, but you ignore it, pure excitement enveloping you as you sink further down his form. You hook your fingers into the hem of his sweats and boxers, sinking them down to his knees. You look at his erection, and you wondered how you hadn't noticed it before while the two of you were making out. You were thankful he was just as horny as you were.

You place it in your hand- the one that wasn't bandaged at the moment, and lower your head to suck at his balls. From how his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and the throaty moan he emitted as he bucked into your hand, you couldn't help but feel the swell of pride in your chest. This was the feeling of complete control.

You sucked on his balls for a bit longer before you came back up, licking a stripe along his length. He notably shivered. You also noted how cold his skin felt against yours- but it didn't remind you of ice this time. Now it felt more refreshing. Kind of like when you dive into a pool of water, with the sun burning the back of your neck.

"Go easy on me," you asked him. "My head still hurts- so do your best to keep your hips still."

He scoffed, smirking at you in the cocky way you were already familiar with. "Believe me, babe, I'm a master of self-control."

You glare at him, wanting to test his theory. We'll see about that, you thought to yourself. Without further ado, you sink down on his length, your nose nuzzling against the pubes. You feel him gasp as he bucks into the back of your throat, causing you to gag and slip off of him. You sputter, ignoring his apologizes.

You give your own cocky smirk, "Self-control my ass." Although, you said it whilst coughing.

He glares at you. "I didn't think you'd deep throat me just like that."

"Mhm," you chuckle.

"C'mon, stop wasting time. I want to be back in your throat," he cooed, brushing his fingers against your cheek. Your eyelids flutter at the feeling of his cold touch, and oblige, sucking softly at the head of his cock.

You enjoy the moans he made, though you could tell how quiet he was trying to be, only letting the occasional grunt slip out. You bobbed your head along his length, ignoring how dizzy you felt. You should rest- but first, you needed him to cum.

Finally, after your jaw was starting to feel sore from deep throating him continuously, you heard the magic words. "Can I cum in your throat?"

You only respond by sucking harder, and for a moment you imagine yourself as a perverted vacuum cleaner, and the thought has you trying not to laugh. Soon enough he's sending a hot, sticky load down your throat, which you swallow heartily, not wanting a single drop to escape your lips.

Both of you are sweaty and breathless once he's finished, and you crawl forward, collapsing in his arms, tired. "Do you want me to return the favor?" he chuckles.

"No," you laugh, your eyelids droopy. "I just want to sleep I think."

And sleep you did.

"I've been doing some research into the murders," Rosé tells you, whispering as the two of you took notes. "You know, since the last attack."

"Mhm," you mumbled, mainly doodling in your notepad. You couldn't stop thinking about your time with Yoongi. He tasted so good on your tongue. You glanced at him, seeing him typing away on his laptop. How could someone look so hot when they weren't even doing anything? You felt yourself swooning.

"She's the only one who survived- and the description she gave of the killer is definitely a woman in her young 20s. And since it's already confirmed they must live here- well, it's likely that they go to our college."

"Really?" you absentmindedly say, still staring at Yoongi.

Rosé snapped her fingers in front of you, snapping you out of your daze. She had a frustrated expression. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, yes!" you exclaim, irritated. "I'm just distracted. You're talking about the killer."

She rolls her eyes in annoyance. "The killer only comes out after sunset and before sunrise. Well, that was known. So maybe we need to be looking at young women on the streets- which is ironic since they're typically the ones who are in danger. Although there have been fewer predators on the street recently because of the murders, so that's good."

"Where are you going with this?" you ask her.

"What if you and I go investigating? Try to find the monster," she suggests.

"What? Rosé, are you insane? We're not the police. I'm sure they'll find the killer soon. If we do that... Forget it. And don't do it," you say firmly.

"Speak for yourself, but someone's got to do something. Clearly, the police don't have it under control, seeing how they haven't prevented the murders," Rosé states. "I'm going."

"You're going to get yourself killed," you huff. You return back to your current favorite activity- staring at Yoongi.

"Why're you staring at him all of the sudden?" your friend asks. "Last I checked, you hated him."

You shrugged. "He's not all that bad."

"Bullshit," Rosé says, turning you to face her. "What happened between you two?"

You avoid her eye, staring down, and she suppresses a squeal. "Oh my God, you totally had sex!" she whisper-screams.

"We didn't!" you say quickly. "We just... got to third base, that's all."

"You're kidding," she smiles. "I told you he was attracted to you."

"Shut up already," you grin, feeling your cheeks get rosy. The two of you giggle, and you look back at Yoongi, your eyes locking. He smirks at you, and you feel girly as you bury your face in Rosé's shoulder, feeling positively giddy. God, you had such a school girl crush. Weren't adults supposed to be calmer when it came to their love lives?

"Tell me what happened," she insisted. "I want to hear everything."

"It's kind of long," you say. "Well, last night I was attacked by the... you can't freak out ok? The killer attacked me, but Yoongi saved me, and we ended up spending the night at his place and... dot dot dot."

"No. Way." Her eyes get wide. "That means you saw the killer!"

"Not exactly," you mumble. You take her hand, placing it on your head for her to feel the bump.

She winces. "That must've hurt."

"Definitely did the morning I woke up," you say. "I can't remember a thing after I fell asleep."

"Well at least you're finally getting sleep," she says. "I get concerned for you."

"I know, I know," you sigh. "I guess I'm just scared to."

"Why's that?"

You didn't want to mention it to her.

"Aviva." You turn around, about to leave class when Yoongi stopped you. You felt a smile creep onto your lips, and you grin brightly to him.

"Yeah? You need something?" you question, feeling your heart skip a beat.

"Yeah, give me your phone," he says. You oblige, opening it to him and seeing him send himself a text. He hands it back to you with a small smirk. "Text me."

"Will do," you grin, biting your lower lip in delight.

You look around your room, tossing your clothes on the floor and such. "I could've sworn I went to sleep in it... or left it here... where is it?" You were having trouble finding the hoodie Yoongi lent you- which was bad, considering the fact you promised him that you'd return it.

Grunting to yourself, you go to your phone, looking at your most recent text message. Calling the contact, you hear Yoongi's voice.

"Hello, Aviva."

God, that raspy voice was sexy.

"Hey, Yoongi," you greet. "Did I by any chance leave your hoodie at your place? I promised to return it to you, but I can't seem to find it."

"Oh. You were wearing it when I found you last night. I took it and washed it when you were sleeping, I thought you knew."

You let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem. Bye."

"Bye," you say, hearing him hang up. Too bad, though. You wished you got to wear it longer.

When you woke up, it was probably about 10 AM. You had a good rest, you noted. You didn't have school today since it was Saturday. You felt more elated than usual and in a rather good mood. You made yourself some coffee and ate a spare muffin. They were on sale when you went grocery shopping, and definitely worth it.

You get your phone, preparing to scroll through social media, but were surprised to see that Rosé spammed you last night.

Confused, you click on her messages.

-Aviva

-Aviva pleeas stope

-im ur frind

-wht r u donig

-i wont tell i promise

-please

-please

-please

-im sorry

-whta did i do

-no mttr whta happns i love u

-goodb

Your eyes were wide, and you quickly went to the news.

There were two murders last night. One was a 30-something-year-old-man. The other was your best friend, Rosé.

You were sitting in your closet. You had called Rosé perhaps a million times, but each time someone seemed to decline your calls. It confused you. Did the killer have her phone? You just wanted it all to be fake, for it to not be real. You wanted her to answer and say it was just a prank, that it didn't even happen.

You knew this would happen if she went scouting for the killer. Now look at what happened to her. You felt the tears on your cheeks dry. You felt dehydrated at the moment. You felt as though your heart was caving into your chest.

This wasn't happening.

You dialed another number- not her's this time. You didn't know if you could handle it.

Yoongi's voice answered. "I guess this means you heard. I'm so sorry, Aviva."

You let out a shaky breath. "I didn't know who else to call. I-I'm... I'm scared, Yoongi. I'm really scared. Rosé... she's dead. The bastard killed her. I want to kill that son of a bitch."

"Do you want me to come over?"

"Please," you sobbed, feeling more tears break out as you sobbed into your hand. How pathetic you looked, in the dark, sobbing to yourself. You only wish you had decided to come with her. Maybe you could've saved her. Guilt flooded through your veins. "I feel like I can barely function right now. I'm shaking."

"Tell me your address. I'll be right over."

You sputter it out between sobs and wait for him arrive. It wasn't long until he was knocking on your door, and you were diving into his arms, crying into his chest. He had a cold grip on you, but pet your hair, letting you cry until you ran out of tears. By the time you stopped, it was already dark.

You two were mainly silent, and you were gulping cups full of coffee.

"Why are you drinking so much coffee? You won't be able to sleep," Yoongi says.

"I don't want to sleep. Rosé is dead," you spit bitterly, irritated. "I was sleeping while she was having her nails ripped out and her veins yanked out. I'm not sleeping tonight."

"I don't think you avoiding sleep will bring her back," Yoongi mutters, narrowing his eyes at your bitter attitude. You stopped crying. Now you were angry. And admittedly you were lashing it out on him.

"Each time I sleep I get bruises on my arms and legs," you say, pulling back a sleeve to reveal five long scratches on your arm. "And I seem to scratch myself in my sleep. I don't think I can handle it right now. Not now. Not with... Not with everything that's happened."

Yoongi stares at the marks on your arms, and he holds your wrist in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the scratches. "You know you could go insane if you don't get enough sleep."

"What do you know?" you snap at him, yanking your arm from his grasp.

He glares at you. "I know you're angry- but you don't get to just lash it out on me."

"Why do you even care?" you question. "When we first met you were just an annoying fuck boy. You're not my boyfriend- why're you even here?"

"You invited me," he scowled. "I wanted to comfort you."

"I don't know why I did that. I was emotional and fucking stupid. You and I are still strangers and even fucking you was a mistake," you spit. At that, you look down at your bandaged hand and rip the bandage off with your anger. "Go home. I can take care of myself."

Yoongi looked like he was fuming. Cross that, he was livid. He snapped his fingers, glaring at you. "Come here."

"Or what?" you growl, whipping to turn to him. His stare was icy cold, and the entire room felt as though it were turning several degrees cooler. A chill ran down your spine, but you refused to let him know that.

"Or your punishment is going to be a lot worse," he threatened. He sat down in a nearby chair and pointed down at his lap. "Now, lift your skirt, pull off your panties, and bend over like the slut you are."

You felt a jolt of electricity to your core, and an undeniable wetness was already starting to form. You find your own body betraying you as you walk closer, and your legs turn to jelly as you bend over his lap, reaching back to flip over your skirt, revealing your rear. You shakily slip your underwear down, feeling it fall down to your ankles.

You suppressed a scream with your hand, biting down on your palm as you feel a sharp slap. "Yoongi!" you exclaim.

"I'm not Yoongi when you piss me off," he scolds, slapping your ass again. "Tonight you're calling me Daddy. Repeat after me: Daddy."

You never thought you'd be into that sort of thing. Calling someone Daddy. But hearing him say it made a pool between your legs. "Daddy," you whisper, barely audible.

He slaps your ass again. "What was that? Don't piss me off further." Another slap.

"Daddy!" you exclaim. You feel his fingers thread to your hair soothingly.

"Good girl," he cooed, slapping your ass again. You could only whimper and squirm as he slapped each cheek, alternating until you were crying and begging him to stop. Your ass felt bruised, as though it were on fire.

"Do you see what happens when you act like a little bitch?" he questions, hearing your whimpers and pleas with his next series of slaps. "You get punished. Are you sorry?"

"Yes Daddy," you cry, wincing as he slaps you again.

"Are you going to treat Daddy like that again?"

"No Daddy," you say, curling your hands into fists. You were sure there would be small crescents dotting along your palm by the end of this. Your ass was so red it probably looked like a rare steak- though the situation didn't seem so funny at the moment.

"Do you want Daddy to fuck you?" He stopped spanking you, this time his finger circling around a puckered rim. Your eyes widen at what he's suggesting, and you wiggle your hips back into his hand.

"Yes, Daddy," you beg, hanging your head down.

"You don't deserve it," he grunts but slips the finger in. You feel tense as he pulls it back out, slowly pushing it in again. You had done anal before- but this felt far more enticing somehow. Maybe it was just the intoxicity that was him. You push back into his hand, finding the rhythm as he pumps into you.

"Do you like this?" he questions.

"Yes, Daddy," you confirm.

"You handled your punishment well," he notes, and you feel him stretching out your hole as he inserts another finger. You bite your lip. "Do you think you learned your lesson?"

"Yes, Daddy." You nod your head eagerly, feeling how he stretched you out. You prayed that he was preparing you, at the very least.

"Why were you punished?"

"Because I was acting like an irritable brat," you blurt.

"Mhm," he confirms. "And you say I'm the annoying one. You hear him chuckle at that, resulting in you rolling your eyes. Good thing you weren't exactly facing him, otherwise you were sure you'd get punished for that too. "Be a good girl and lay down on the coffee table, now."

You eagerly push off of him, laying down on your back, pushing items off the coffee table, not caring where they land. You watch as he settles between your legs, on his knees. He hooks your bare legs around his arms, hiking them over his shoulders as he attached his lips to your own set. He didn't waste time, using calculated movements that had you moaning for him. It was as though he already knew your body, and just what had you arching your back. You swore he knew your body like the back of his hand.

"Daddy," you moaned. You tangled your fingers into his hair, threading through it as you felt his tongue lap over your clit, making your thighs quiver. "You're so good, Daddy."

"I know," he mumbles, and you feel him smirk against you. You wanted to squeeze his head between your thighs, make it pop like a watermelon. But you decided his annoyingness was worth it, especially when you were approaching your orgasm. All thanks to that magical tongue of his.

"Fuck, I'm close," you whisper to yourself, covering your mouth with your hand. You tilt your head back, arching your back as he sucks on your clit, harder and faster.

And then he was pulling your legs off of his shoulders and pulling back, your orgasm beginning to die.

You look at him with alarm, watching as he smirked at you. "Asshole!" you exclaim.

"Punishment over," he said, pecking your lips with a smile. "Maybe next time I'll let you cum."

"I hate you," you muttered, crossing your arms bitterly. Now you were sitting, half-naked, on your coffee table. And all for nothing. What a fucking bastard.

"Sure you do," he chuckled.

There wasn't a murder last night, thank God. You sat at your desk, refreshing your laptop, eyes glued to the screen as you looked at the latest news. You were so pent up on coffee that you didn't sleep a wink that night, and you were so tired by early morning that you could barely keep your eyes open.

"Are you still awake?" Yoongi groggily says, having just woken up.

"Your morning voice is sexy," you tell him, noting it. "Have I told you that?"

"Countless times," he groans, falling back to the bed. You didn't remember telling him it before, but you let it slide, forgetting about it momentarily.

The lights from the blinds of your window were filling the room, making it look more iridescent than usual. It must've been somewhere between 5-6 AM.

"Why don't you just come over here and sleep? It's day. You're safe," he assures you.

"I dunno," you mumble. Shortly after you yawn, and you feel his arms creep around you, giving you a back hug as he rests his chin on your head.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed," he says.

"You're also fucking annoying, have I told you that as well?"

"Even more times," he smiles, dragging you away to the bed. "I'll keep watch if you're that paranoid. But you should really get some sleep."

You sigh, shaking your head. You knew it'd be pointless in convincing him otherwise. But you realized how nice it was to sleep in arms, and settled in what was now a familiar and very comfortable position. The last thing you remembered was hearing his heartbeat as you slowly drifted to sleep.

When you woke up, Yoongi wasn't by your side. You snapped up, startled, searching frantically for him. It wasn't until you spotted him that you felt relief flood throughout your chest.

"Thank God you're awake. I've got morning wood," he told you, crawling on the bed. You laugh at that, feeling him kiss along your neck as he yanks the covers down.

"Aren't you always?" you tease.

"I'll let you cum this time," he responded, resulting in you spreading your legs.

"Fuck yes, then," you exclaim, smiling as you push him off of you to take off your shirt and shorts, revealing nothing underneath. "C'mon, what're you waiting for?"

He's quick to strip off his clothes, his hand diving between your legs to finger you. You moan at the feeling, and his lips return to your own as his tongue swirls around your own. You push against his chest, however, coming to a realization.

"Wait, I'm not on birth control," you warn him. "And I don't have any condoms."

He slaps his own forehead. "Shit, I forgot to buy some."

"I have a suggestion," you tell him. "What if- well how do you feel about anal?" You're surprised by your own bluntness but decided 'to hell with it'.

"I'm listening," Yoongi says, eyeing you warily.

"I don't have lube or anything right now, but perhaps you can fuck my pussy for a bit before anal," you suggest. "Sound like a plan?"

He holds his hand up, offering a high five, which you gladly accept, slapping your hand against his. "Let's do it."

He continues stretching you out mid-makeout session until you feel properly prepared, the juices of your arousal already dribbling down your thighs. Soon enough he was flipped over on his back, and you were climbing on top of him. You feel him slide into you, stretching you out. You loved the feeling of being filled. Your lips are still connected as you begin to ride him, his arms wrapped securely around you, and your fists curling into the pillows beneath him.

You feel his fingers circle around that muscled rim again, slipping a single digit in as he begins to rock it at the same pace as his thrusts. You moan, loving the feeling of having both holes filled. You work hard, having his cock pump through you, brushing against your walls. You trusted that both of you could remain safe. After all- what college student wanted to get pregnant?

"I'm going to cum," he tells you. "Get on all fours."

"Yes, Daddy," you wink, climbing off of him, feeling the emptiness once he was no longer in you. Still, you got on all fours beside him, and he got on his knees, inserting two fingers into your puckered rim once again to prepare you, stretching it.

"Add another," you tell him.

"Are you sure?" he questions.

"Yes," you say, arching your back as he inserts the third one. You definitely felt the stretch there as the three digits brushed against your walls.

"I think you're good," he says finally. He pulls his fingers out, and you do your best to relax your muscles for what's to come. He slowly pushes into you, and you try not to tighten your muscles. Finally, he stretches all the way in.

You press your chest against the mattress, feeling him slowly pump against you. You moan out at the feeling. You felt so stretched out and full. Soon his chest was pressed against your back, and you shiver at the feeling of his cold skin against your own.

"Daddy," you moan, although it's muffled by the sheets.

"That's right, moan my name," he encourages you, grabbing fistfuls of your chest, gripping your breasts as he thrusts into you steadily. "God, you feel so good around my cock."

You were glad that your wetness made the stretch inside of you a bit easier, and you liked the fact that your own juices were used as the lubrication. Made you feel a bit filthier, to be honest. Soon one of his hands creeps down your stomach to swirl around your clit, rubbing at the small nub in the way that had you arch your back impossibly further.

"Fuck, Daddy," you moan. "Harder."

He obliges, rougher thrusts as he goes deeper and deeper into you. You relished the sounds of his raspy and deep grunts,  spreading your legs further as though subconsciously. You feel your high approaching soon.

"I'm gonna cum," he grunts. Soon you feel the hot and sticky liquid spill into you, and though this felt rather foreign, you couldn't help but enjoy it, moaning out. He stills for a moment, balls deep into you as he empties his load into you. You pant at the feeling of his fingers, that hadn't stopped rubbing against your most sensitive area. You feel your high approaching, and Yoongi continues to thrust into you, riding out the rest of his high until you finally come undone on his cock.

Your eyes roll back, and you bury your moans into the pillows. That orgasm alone was worth the suffering Yoongi had put you through so far during your sexual experiences. He slips out of you, flipping you onto your back to lick at your core, lapping at the cum that was seeping out of your abused hole. His tongue also lapped at the sensitive bud, and you cringed from the overstimulation.

Your fingers curled into his locks. "Daddy, please, it hurts."

He hummed but stopped lapping at your clit, instead cleaning up the rest of the sticky fluid, including the rest of your own fluids from your pussy. He kissed your thighs once he was done, and came back up to press his lips firmly against yours.

He presses his forehead against your own, and you cradle his face in your hands, feeling his breath against your own.

"Yoong-"

"Shh," he shushes you. "Let me just remember this. I want to hold onto this moment."

You stay still, staring at him. His eyes were closed shut. He had pretty lashes. Up close he looked so delicate, almost fragile. As though, if you were to tap your finger against him, his skin would crack like glass, and he'd crumble.

You were staring at a sunrise that was peaking over the horizon, past the corners of the nearby buildings. A baseball bat was in your hand and a corpse with a smashed skull at your feet. You didn't know what was going on.

Yoongi was here.

"Aviva," he said. "Aviva, is that you?"

"What..." You stare down at the body. They're laying face down. It's some woman. You don't know her. "Oh my God." You drop the bat, dropping to your knees. You feel yourself kneeling in the pool of blood surrounding the corpse- but you don't care. You flip her over, cradling the face. She looks unrecognizable.

You don't feel anything. You feel shocked. It hasn't settled in.

"It's not your fault," Yoongi assures you. "I promise you, Aviva. If it's anyone's, it's mine."

"Did I kill her?" you ask quietly, the whisper barely audible. "Did I do this? Just now?"

"I..." Yoongi gulps. He seems almost unable to answer. You look up at him, and you notice his eyes welling up with tears.

"Am I the killer?" you ask him.

"Aviva, we need to-"

"I killed Rosé."

At that, the last thing you see is Yoongi's fist flying towards your face.

You wake up in his room again. But it's definitely different context from last time. Or was it?

You get up. Your nose hurts. It wasn't broken, but it definitely took some serious damage from Yoongi's punch. You were tied to the bed, white clothes tying your hands to either side of the bedpost.

So many questions were swimming around your head. What happened? Why didn't you remember any of the murders you committed? What led to this? Why did Yoongi punch you? What was really going on?

Yoongi entered the room, his face melancholy as he stared at you. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I... I've never punched you before. I've never gotten this far. I never had the guts to hurt you."

"Yoongi..." Your eyes start welling up with tears. "Tell me what's going on. Please. I'm... I'm a monster."

Yoongi sighed, looking at you with such a saddened expression. Tears started to slip from your own eyes now. God, you were so confused.

"What do you want to know?"

"Did I really do it?" you ask.

"Yes," he sighs. "You... you did."

"Even..."

"Even Rosé," he confirms.

"No, I don't believe it," you deny in a frenzy. "I'd never hurt her. I wouldn't!"

Yoongi sighed, standing up and pulling out a phone from his back pocket. You recognized it immediately. Rosé's phone. He clicks the home screen and hands it to you, and you quickly fumble in her password, sucking in a breath. He takes it back, going to photos, swiping through to reveal various pictures of you attacking the man who was also murdered last night. You watch in horror at the series as you slowly turn around, your eyes glowing on the screen as you stalk towards her, the pictures getting blurrier and blurrier, until the final picture. A clear shot of Rosé lying on the floor, her pretty face smeared with blood, a knife lodged into her eye socket.

You felt like you were going to puke.

"You killed her once you saw she was taking photos," he says quietly, putting away the phone. "As she was running away she was texting you trying to get you to spare her. You caught up with her soon enough."

"How do you know this?" you question, a lump in your throat.

"It's an objective to follow you around without getting caught. Once I could safely hide you away until morning and erase evidence of you committing the murders- hiding away weapons or washing your clothes of blood- you'd forget everything the moment the sun came up."

"I..." You felt a queasy feeling in your stomach. "I'm going to puke."

You felt it rising up, and you leaned over the side of the bed, the vomit spewing from your lips. You felt overwhelmed, wanting it to be over as you yanked on the cloth, trying to be set free. Yoongi ran out of the room, returning with a bucket that he handed to you. You cradled it, vomiting the rest you could, dry heaving some once no more would come out. You were puking so violently that tears were spilling out of your eyes. The smell of vomit reeked.

"Why can't I remember anything?" you asked.

Yoongi closed his eyes. "Once you fall asleep, and only when the sun's down, you become a murderer. You're possessed by a demon that can only control you under these two conditions. It was an old acquaintance who wanted to get revenge on me through you. To explain it all, it'd be too complicated. But believe it or not, to put it simply, you're my wife in another world of sorts. The demon possessed you. The only way for me to get rid of him was to kill you... but I could never do that. So instead I put you here, a place where I could visit and spend with you. Albeit, it's not exactly the most comfortable or greatest setting."

You stared at him in shock, wiping away some of the vomit dribbling down your chin. "What are you?"

"Something I don't want to be, frankly," he tells you. His eyes are soft and genuine, filled with hurt and grief. "I'd rather be nothing more than your husband, to be frank."

"Where am I, Yoongi? Where did you put me, after I became possessed?"

"You're in a video game," he breathes. "A video game called Stalker. The objective was for me to follow you around and try to save others. At the final level, I'm supposed to kill you. But I can't hurt you- even if you'd be alive and well and without any memory once I refreshed the game. I told you before I couldn't do that. So instead I helped cover your tracks a bit- though I slipped up when I let that one woman escape. The more information gets out, the easier it's supposed to be to kill you. This was the only place I could see the real you after you got possessed."

You could barely believe anything he was saying, but from the look on his face, you knew there was no way he could be making any of this up. "How many times have you played?"

"Countless times," he answered. "And each time I lost. I always lose when I let you kill me at the end. Somehow this time I delayed you until sunrise- something I didn't even know was possible in the game."

"Yoongi," you whisper. "Why would you do this to yourself?"

He smiles softly. "Because I can't live in a world without you. So I choose to come to this one."

"Win the game," you tell him. "I don't mind. You can repeat the game and we can do this over and over again. I don't care if you have to hurt me to do it. But I don't want to be the cause of your suffering anymore. Kill me already, please. I beg of you. Win the game finally, and I'll wake up to reset, and forget everything ever happened."

Tears start cascading down his face, and he wipes them away. "I know what I must do."

"Win?" you question.

Yoongi shakes his head. "Yes- but I'm also going to end the game once and for all. I can't put you through this anymore- it's agony for the both of us. And what I'm doing to you is tearing your soul apart and is hurting you even more than you and I realize. I'm sorry I've been so selfish as to put myself above you, Aviva."

"Yoongi," you whisper again, unable to say anything else.

He opens the nightstand, getting out an already bloody blade. You wince, realizing how many lives you ended with that single knife. He's sobbing so much that he crumbles into himself, and you look at him with pity. Snot and tears are running down his face by now as he shakily holds up the knife.

You spread your arms, staring him in the eye with trust, wanting to communicate without words how much you supported his decision, despite the fact that it was killing him on the inside.

"G-Goodbye, Aviva," he whispers, his voice shaky, a noticeable lump in his throat. "I love you."

The knife swung down in the air, burying hilt deep into your breast. And finally, you were free.

Congratulations! You have won Stalker. Would you like to play again?

YES or NO

Shutting down...

"Your Majesty, Hermes is here to see you."

Hades looked back at the servant, his expression wide and shocked. He gave a single nod, not daring to say a word as he stared at the blank screen. He had to do it. Now or never. The servant left, and quickly Hermes entered.

"Whaddup, Gramps?" he chuckled, entering. "Oh. Are you visiting your wife again?"

"Hermes, bring me a hammer," Hades spoke softly.

"What?" Hermes gave a perplexed expression, confused by what the God was requesting exactly.

Hades slammed his fists on the desk, tears slipping down his face it burned red. "Give me a motherfucking hammer or I swear- God or not, I'll fucking condemn you to the pits of Tartarus!"

Hermes snapped his fingers, letting a hammer pop into mid-air. "You'd better hope Hephestaus doesn't scold me for stealing one," he says, handing it to the god.

Hades picked it up, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Finally, he swung it into the screen, repeatedly and repeatedly again. Soon enough, it was just a heap of metal, sparks still flying from it. Hades opened his eyes, his lips quivering at the utter heartbreak he felt as he dropped the hammer, collapsing into himself as he wept bitterly.

"What're you doing?!" Hermes exclaimed. "You may live in the kingdom of the dead- but now you'll actually never get to see her again!"

"You think I don't know that?" Hades cried, choking on his own tears. "I'll never see the only woman I love again."

Hermes was quiet, watching the man break down. He didn't know how to console him- the only person he was ever happy with or let touch him was you, after all. Ever since you got possessed he got bitter and more cold and cynical, but at least everyone knew he got enjoyment out of his visits, even though it tore him up.

But now what would happen?

Hermes hesitantly put his hand on the god's shaking shoulder. "It'll be ok," Hermes said softly. He was on a tight schedule- he didn't even get to do what he came down to Hell for. But this was more important than errands. Anyone knew that. "You did it for a reason- and I'm sure she would've supported it."

Hades stared at the broken heap, knowing that what's done is done. But deep down, he knew that Hermes' words were right.

And at least now, somehow, someway, you were at peace.

And that was enough for him.

#hades #greek gods #yoongi #suga #min yoongi #yoongi smut #suga smut #bts smut #smut #bts yoongi #bts suga

[seventhtea]

on this website, more of you guys make it seem like girls can do no wrong and every time a girl is mean it's justified.

well. I don't agree

When I was younger I was bullied. I used to come home from school and cry almost every day.

When I was in middle school, there was this group of girls that would talk about me like if I couldn’t hear them. At first, I thought maybe I’m being paranoid and they aren’t talking about me. They are just talking about someone else. It’s whatever. but no. I would hear them say things like “Bonnie is getting fatter than she was when school started.” or “one day Bonnie is going to get so fat she won't fit through the door” or “I can't imagine any one ever liking Bonnie because she's so ugly” after a while I started believing them. I hated myself before the school year was even half over. Around then was the first time I thought about suicide. Can you imagine? A middle schooler thinking about suicide? that's so fucked up. Well, it started to show in how I presented myself because around which made those girls and their boyfriends started calling me the emo girl. They stopped using my name and stopped calling me fat. But they called me emo and told me that maybe I should hurry up and kill myself already since I’m only taking up space that someone better could be having. It was almost impossible for me to get out of bed every day and I dreaded walking to the bus from my house.

By the time I got to high school, I thought this will be different. The first high school I went to was huge. I had a few friends in middle school and most of them went to the same high school as me. One of them was this girl that had a boyfriend for almost a year by the time we started high school and it was amazing. I thought it was so cool that she found someone so early in her life that she wanted to stay with. Unfortunately, the guy didn’t feel the same. I went to this party that the girl invited me to and even though I didn’t want to go, I figured it would be fine. Well, when I got to the party I found the girl and her boyfriend (We will call them Steven and Jasmine). At one point Jasmine told me to wait with Steven while she went to get something and Steven decided that would be the moment to feel me up. He grabbed my ass and I pushed his hand away but didn’t say anything. So he took that as a cue to stick his hand up my skirt. I fought him off for a while but he was bigger than me and she chose then to walk back over. She called me a slut. She believed him when he said I was trying to force him. She told everyone I knew that I tried sleeping with him and that I was ugly so he obviously rejected me. Everyone believed her. 

Lucky for me, I moved away not too long after that. So I was only called a slut for a couple months. I moved to Colorado and I thought that since I was going to be in a different state, it will be better. I won't have to deal with the same mean people anymore. At my second high school, there was this girl that was really nice to me. She was the first person to talk to me at my new school and she invited me to sit with her and her friends at lunch. She introduced me to a bunch of new people and I felt like I could be happy there. After a while, she invited herself over to my house and I let her because I didn’t want to do anything to ruin this. so when she forced herself onto me I didn’t fight too much because I didn’t want to lose everything I was finally getting. After about the fifth time, I made her stop. I told her not to come over anymore if she was going to do that because I’m not into those kinds of things. She took it the wrong way. She would show up outside of my house and scream at me outside of my window. She would call my phone nonstop. she even said things like “if I can’t have you, no one can.” I remember being so scared constantly.

I had another “friend” at that school and much like jasmine, she thought I tried stealing her boyfriend. once she started telling people what a slut I was for flirting with her boyfriend, I decided I wouldn’t let it be like the last time. So I did start flirting with him. me and him got along really well after all. we even dated for a while after he broke up with her for being so mean to me without a real reason. so it wasnt just her being mean. I did steal her boyfriend after all. but i wouldn’t have even looked at him if she didn’t start calling me names and telling everyone that I was a dirty slut. I just wanted to do something to make her leave me alone. 

Around senior year, I moved to another high school. It was all the way across town with all the rich kids. I only went there because my mom lost her job and we had to move in with my grandma. When I got there, the girls constantly pointed out how cheap all of my clothes were and how old my bags were and how I had to use the free food program because I was to poor to afford the school lunches that were only about 2 dollars a day. most of this I ignored. It was annoying but they werent telling me to kill myself so I was fine. they started doing things like throwing out my gym clothes because they knew I couldnt afford new ones. or they would throw my school bag into the pool. They would push me anytime they walked past me. but most of this I thought I could deal with. but one day, i couldn’t take it and I broke down. You see, me and my brother had this prepaid cell that we shared. We went to the same school and if we needed anything or had an emergency, we would have a way to call our mom. but one day, after gym where the teacher yelled at me in front of the whole class because once again i didn’t have my gym clothes, i went back to my locker and my backpack was spilled out and my phone was gone. This phone was my safety device. It was what I had that would remind me that if i really felt that bad, i could have my mom pick me up and i would be fine. and they took it. It was found later in the toilet of a bathroom two floors down. when i got home that day I cried for hours. I couldn’t understand what it was that I did to make these strangers hate me so much.

the last two stories is about girls from my mock trial club. see, this guy from one of my classes pulled me aside one day and was like hey i know why you look so sad all the time. and i gave him my most unimpressed look and he grins and goes its because you arent in this really cool club. it was so dumb and simple and it made me laugh and i thought i could really be apart of this club if he was in it. i joined the club and i spent hours and hours there and i loved being able to see his smile everyday and then he did something that made me realise he isnt that great. He told me that he really likes me but he also likes 2 other girls just as much and that if we want to be with him, we have to convice him that we are the better one. obviously i wasnt going to get involved. i thought it was ridiculous and i dont like anyone enough for that. but i do hate to lose. I hated the thought of it. so when one of the other girls started calling me names, and told me he would never choose me because i was ugly, i thought there is no way im going to lose to a girl like this. So i told him i really like you also karin is a bitch and when he chose me i felt happy for about two seconds before karin started reminding people that im poor and ugly and fat and that no one would ever love me so the reason i won is because the boy didnt want me to be embarrased or he felt bad for me or something along those lines and i started believing her. every time i was with that boy i would feel like maybe she is right. he doesn’t like me. No one had me as paranoid as she did. 

and the last girl. in the club, we had these sort of roles. So, my friend was like the mom. she took care of everyone. she made sure everyone was fed and happy. There was this girl that was like the older sister that everyone went to for advice or to talk about love or whatever. and then there was me. I was the baby of the group. everyone called me baby. they said that i needed the most love and the most attention and that they always just felt like spoiling me. it was great and it was fun and there were days that i genuinely felt loved. But there was this girl. I dont even remember her role in the group, i just remember that she hated that i was the baby. She was constantly trying to convince everyone that i was just acting a certain way so they would think i needed attention. that i was just an attention whore. she convinced some of my “friends” that i was the reason that we wouldn’t make it to nationals and that i should just be kicked out. but the worst was when she convinced everyone that it was my fault that my friend had a break down in the middle of the clubroom. my friend was the third girl from the group above and instead of fighting with me, we ended up bonding over a mutual hatred for the other girl. so when he chose me, my friend was fine with it but she wasn’t ok. She loved him from before i had even met him and so she had a breakdown in the middle of the club and it was my fault. but this girl over here went and told everyone. she told them that i was talking shit about my friend and that i rubbed it in her face and all these other things and this time they all believed her. I tried to go talk to my friend and calm her down but this girl had some other club members block the doors and talk shit if i even walked past. she isolated my friend so instead of feeling better she felt like no one even cared enough to go check on her. she thought that i didn’t care about her enough to go see if she was ok or if she wanted me to walk her home or anything. She was in that room all alone thinking none of us cared because this girl was more concerned with making people hate me than trying to make sure my friend knew how loved she is.

these weren’t the only things that happened, they are just the things that stick out the most and that still fuck with me even though im 22 years old. I still think about these things constantly. I think about how i felt so powerless and so hated and i was still i child when i started wanting to kill myself. So when i see things on this website about how all girls are perfect and they can never do anything wrong and blah blah blah i get really annoyed. because girls can be really mean and really hateful and they can hurt people and you can’t excuse that just because they are girls.

#My Stuff #Text #about me #im exhausted #I don't know what made me think of this tiday #anyways