#not Jughead wearing the same jacket

[bonniebird]

Sweet Pea x Fem!Reader

Requested by Anon​

Halloween event

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Warning: Stalker, stalking behaviour, stalker breaking and entering

As the fight broke out you covered your ears and gasped. The sound of the first punch cracked the air like a whip. Backing through the crowd you bumped into someone. In the dim light and from the mask they were wearing you realised it was Sweet Pea.

“I want to get out of here.” You said and grabbed his hand. Silently he led you away from the fighting and towards the woods in the direction of Pop’s, you assumed at first. “I don’t think this is the way to Pop’s.” You said after a while. The mask wearer looked back at you and silently pointed toward the trees. 

“(Y/N)!” You heard bellowed out. There was a loud rustle and Jughead whipped out of the forest, spreading torn branches and leaves into the air and he used his jacket to protect himself. You were so startled by his sudden appearance that you let go of Sweet Pea’s hand. When you turned back to him he’d gone. “I found (Y/N)!” Jughead yelled.

“I wasn’t lost? I was going to Pop’s with Sweet Pea.” You said and frowned when Sweet Pea emerged from where Jughead had moments before.

“How did you get over there so quickly?” You asked. Sweet Pea frowned, and glanced at Jughead then at you.

“What’re you talking about? Someone went off with you into the woods.” He insisted. You frowned but didn’t have time to press the issue as Sweet Pea tightly gripped your arm and steered you in the opposite direction as Fangs and Toni marched past.

“We’ll find them!” Toni yelled. Several more serpents hurried past. You found yourself marched back out of the woods the way you came and towards Sweet Pea’s bike. 

“I don’t understand!” You complained and yanked your arm from Sweet Pea’s. “Sweet Pea went that way with me to Pop’s. He had the mask that Sweet Pea wore at the Halloween party earlier and he had his jacket on.”

“They had a serpent jacket?” Jughead asked.

“Yes.” You said in a sarcastically sing-song voice, irritated that no one seemed to be taking you seriously.

“(Y/N). Sweet Pea was with me the whole time.” Betty said as she glanced around at the group and gave you a sympathetic look.

"You’re telling me the person in the mask isn’t Sweet Pea! Ew, I held their hand!" You said and rubbed your hand on your shirt before looking at them all curiously. “Well, then who was it?” 

“We don’t know but I’m sure Toni will get them. If she doesn’t I will.” Veronica said. She looked furious. Now no one wanted to attend it anymore. Trust some random person in Riverdale to spoil the fun. She decided that she’d find someone and move the party to your house as a surprise. Only people she knew would be allowed through the door.

“You’re sure they were wearing a Southside Serpents jacket? A Riverdale one?” Archie asked. He’d stepped away to fill in Reggie who hurried off with a few friends after Toni and Fangs.

“Yes. He was dressed exactly like Sweet Pea. Exactly what he had on. Also, he was wearing the same cologne.” You explained. Jughead looked a bit worried at that and shrugged.

“Well. Why don’t you go home with Sweet Pea just in case they were after you for something? You’ve helped me and Betty solve enough mysteries that it could be the case. I’m sure it’s just some Halloween prank and we’ll all be at Ronnie’s party in no time.” Jughead suggested. You agreed and went with Sweet Pea. he pulled up the seat of his bike and pulled out the helmet he kept for you. Toni had drawn some cool designs on it for you a while back. 

You and Sweet pea headed back to your house. You passed the time by watching some Halloween cartoons. After a while, your phone rang.

“Hello?” You said.

“Hey! It’s Toni. You need to make sure all your doors and windows are locked.” She said frantically. You frowned and put her on speaker.

“Why? What happened?” You asked.

“Jug is on his way to explain, just make sure you’re locked in!” Toni insisted. The tone of her voice had Sweet Pea vaulting over the sofa and hurrying to check the doors and windows downstairs. He even went room to room, checking no one was hiding in the house. Jughead arrived not too long later. FP was with him. He looked rather grim as he waited at the end of your pathway.

“What happened?” Sweet Pea asked. He stepped just outside of your doorway, forcing you to stay inside a little.

“Look. urm. It’s. It's bad.” Jughead said. His voice sounded odd. Off. Uncomfortably strained as if he was incredibly worried.

“Just spit it out, Jug!” You complained. He didn’t say anything. Just reached into his pocket. He handed Sweet pea a big folded lump of paper. When Sweet Pea infolded it you could both see photocopies of polaroid pictures. 

“These are all of (Y/N).” Sweet pea muttered as he flicked through them. You felt a little sick. “This. Jug. This is the side of (Y/N)’s bedroom. This is (Y/N) asleep upstairs…” Sweet Pea’s voice changed from shocked to furious. 

“We know. There were more in the campervan. He has a whole setup in the woods. It looks like he was planning on taking (Y/N).” Jughead said quietly to Sweet Pea. bile rose in your throat as your chest tightened. You noticed that FP flagged someone down and several bikes pulled up next to his car.

“Ok Jug.” FP called. Alice pushed him aside and hurried up the steps. Betty was close behind her with Veronica stopping so furiously that her high heels managed to dislodge one of the paving stones of your garden path. 

“You go in and pack. You’re staying with me and Betty ok. FP is going to stay here with some friends in case this creep comes back.” Alice said as she led you inside. While she and Betty went around downstairs and gathered things you’d need for a long stay with them, you tried to head upstairs. You got halfway up before a horrible unease set over you. 

“I’ll come.” Sweet Pea said as he hurried up to meet you and put a hand on your back. Nodding you went up. He helped you pack your things and carried some of your bags downstairs. He hugged you as you let Betty take your things to her mom's car.

“We’ll get this all sorted.” He said as you pulled away. His face was stern and his jaw clenched. You went off with Betty, Alice, and Veronica while everyone else either split off to find the guy or stayed to watch your house. The car ride to the Cooper house was quiet and when you pulled up on the drive you saw that Fred Andrews was waiting on his porch. He hurried around and helped you all inside.

“Archie filled me in on what’s happening. Toni and Cheryl are on their way down. From what I hear you have your own security crew.” Fred tried to give you an encouraging smile but it looked more like a pitying grimace.

“Let’s go upstairs. We can sort out the spare room for you.” Betty suggested. You nodded and you went up with her. Veronica followed close behind after kicking off her heels.

“I know it’s the smallest deal right now with everything going on but Betty. Your carpets are amazingly soft.” You all laughed and when Toni and Cheryl arrived ready to comfort you and promise defence to their dying breath they found the three of you laughing so hard that you were in tears while appreciating the softness of the Cooper carpet.

Sweet Pea tags:

@lovelyy-moonlight @stellasblog @DeanWinchestersgirl87 @thekayarlene @linkpk88 @babypink224221 @lisainhell @spiderwebs-blog @gryffindorqueensworld @rockyrascal @twerp8999 @theletterhart @boardstomymood @greekktragedyy @daughterofthenight117 @sarcasm-n-insomnia @geli2297 @justice-for-the-kaldorei @kaylantus @ssa--holmes @salemsnothere @supernatural-wolfie @yougottalovefandoms @devilslilbabysblog @why-am-I-here-01 @babygrinchsblog @love1deandra @archaeologydigit @im-eating-rn @bucketbunny @littlefreakingfangirl @gillybear17 @lelapine @lchufflepuffcorn @lucyqueenofthestars @Kaitieskidmore1 @stupendousbelieverzombie @jamie-c-bower-simp @boardstomymood

#sweet pea #sweet pea x reader #bonniebird #halloween2022

[gayjaytodd]

which riverdale character does each batfam member relate to the most? glad you asked!

Dick: he's an archie guy, head-empty-sexy-caring-kind-everyone wants to fuck him? yeah, dick can relate

Jason: obviously he's a cheryl-stan through and through, Lazarus Pit Madness is basically the same as 19th century Lesbianism Hysteria right?

Tim: in case you haven't noticed, he's weird. he's a weirdo. he doesn't fit in and he doesn't want to fit in. have you ever seen him without a stupid bat-accessory? that's weird.

Steph: she is soooo betty cooper it hurts

Damian: veronica. damian's evil-sexy parent is talia obvi

Cass: jellybean jones. weird kid with daddy/mommy issues who commits vandalism for fun and wears a leather jacket? yeah.

Duke: gay kevin.

Bruce: sexy brooding bad-father-who-loves-his-kids-but-is-too-emotionally-fucked-up-to-show-it? complete with several batshit insane exes? yeah, it's FP

Bonus:

Selina: alice cooper

Clark: fred andrews obviously

Talia: toss-up between hiram lodge and jughead's mum (I do Not remember that woman's name, just that she's a milf with dubious morals)

#Jay talks #batfam #batfam headcanons #batkids #bruce wayne #batman #clark kent #superman #talia al ghul #selina kyle #catwoman #dick grayson #nightwing #Jason todd #Red hood #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #riverdale #archie andrews #betty cooper #veronica lodge #Hiram lodge #cheryl blossom #fp jones #jughead jones

[imreallyloveleee]

for @bughead-bones and @stonerbughead who asked about my s5 murder mystery au: i plotted like 90% of this story out a year or two ago. who knows if i'll ever actually write it all, but if i do, it's going to switch POVs between betty, jughead & veronica. i've never written veronica's pov before, so that's been a little challenging. here's a snippet from jug's pov!

“Jess, have you seen my tie?”

“Nope.”

Jughead emerges from the bathroom to find her sprawled out across the motel room bed, tapping away at her phone. He presses two fingers to his temple, willing away the headache just barely beginning to throb. “Okay, well could you help me look for it? We’re going to be late.”

“I don’t think you have to wear a tie at a funeral.” Jessica slinks off of the bed anyway, leaning halfway over the chipped tv stand to peer behind it. He resists the urge to redirect her towards a more plausible spot, like the pile of clothes she’s left pooled by the foot of the bed. 

“I want to,” he replies tightly. He lifts her leather jacket off the seat of the desk chair — bingo. “Help me tie this?”

She complies, kissing his cheek as she loops the tie around his neck. “You seem really antsy about this.” She tightens the knot at the base of his throat and then tugs on the end a little, teasing, as she steps back.

“I’m about to give a eulogy for my best childhood friend.” 

“Yeah, your best friend who stole your girlfriend.” Jessica raises one eyebrow before laying back on the bed again, toying idly with the end of her long, black braid. 

Sometimes he wishes he’d never told her about that. If Betty’s at the funeral today, and Jessica figures out who she is, god only knows what she’ll say.

God only knows what he’ll say. It’s been a little over a year since they — he? she? does it matter? — ended whatever you’d call the semi-regular communication they’d carried on with ever since the breakup. For six years they’d texted back and forth: book recommendations, professional accomplishments, the occasional meme that made them think of one another. 

None of it came close to scratching the surface of their former relationship. But he misses it. He still finds himself reaching for his phone when he reads an article or a line in a novel that he thinks she’d like. Every time, he forces himself to set it aside. Her silence spoke for her, loud and clear: she doesn’t want to hear from him.

Jughead turns back towards the bathroom mirror, pretending to fiddle with his hair. “That was seven years ago.”

And I’m over it. And I’ve forgiven him. All the words Jughead knows he should say — the words that he thinks, most days, are true — congeal like putty in his mouth, unable to emerge fully formed.

“And now he’s dead,” he adds, unnecessarily. 

It still feels unreal, conceptually speaking: Archie is dead. Sure, he may have had some brushes with death — Jughead’s had more than a few of his own — but Archie Andrews wasn’t the kind of person who would just die. He half expects that when he walks into the church this afternoon, Archie will be standing right there, gathered with all their old friends and acquaintances, laughing at what a gullible sucker Jughead’s become in his not-yet-old age.

But the article is still there loaded on his phone, same as it was one week ago when JB had texted him the link: LOCAL ACTIVIST FOUND DEAD. Friends of Archie Andrews, 25, say they have questions. 

The piece went on to quote names Jughead used to encounter on a daily basis: Local businesswoman Toni Topaz. Riverdale Sheriff Tom Keller. Town coroner Dr. Curdle Jr. It read almost like something he himself had penned as a macabre writing exercise, filling in the blanks of a murder mystery plot with the people who had once formed the landscape of his own life. 

#bughead #bughead fic #my fic #fic #riverdale #riverdale fic

[archietransdrews]

Clothing As Fate On Riverdale? SAY MORE

this #theory hinges on a reading of riverdale as comic, or at least riverdale as a show that still operates fundamentally on comic book principles.

in comics, appearance is everything. i mean this in the sense that characters are given distinct looks so that the viewer can easily tell them apart when scanning strips; i mean it also in the sense that since comics are largely a visual medium, we learn who characters are not only by analyzing what they say but also and principally by analyzing how they look. comic characters’ outfits rarely change, because their appearance is how we recognize them, and yet those outfits are significant despite being stable precisely because of what they indicate about different characters’ personalities. think of pierce from zits or pigpen from peanuts or nermal from garfield or — you get the picture; in a comic, appearance IS character and vice versa.

because we need characters to look distinct in order to tell us what they’re like, there are plenty of pieces of clothing in comics whose only function is to communicate something about a character’s personality; this is true in riverdale as well. jughead’s hat is a perfect example of this, given that the show is aware of its purpose — have you ever seen me without this hat on? that’s weird! but the place it’s not weird for a character to literally never be seen without the same hat on is in a comic strip; jughead just doesn’t know that he’s from a comic (yet).

in comics perhaps more than any other medium, clothes and physical traits are chosen to efficiently communicate characters’ existing personality traits, and so it follows that the reverse is true as well, in the sense that donning a certain piece of clothing can also serve to influence or alter a character’s personality or behavior after the fact. this starts to get at the idea of clothing as fate — the idea that wearing something particular has the power to influence or predetermine future events. we see this frequently time in riverdale when characters dress up like fictional characters only to begin experiencing the same plots that those characters did, e.g. betty dressing up as laurie strode and then immediately living the events of the movie halloween or archie wearing a superhero costume for one night and then becoming a vigilante or like. every musical episode. riverdale fundamentally cannot or will not distinguish between a character and someone who is dressed up like them, so dressing up as someone else triggers a narrative shift.

we need characters to look distinct when reading comics in order to be able to tell them apart, so it follows that when characters in the comic that is riverdale come to resemble each other too closely they begin to merge, which is to say they begin experiencing similar plotlines and ultimately similar fates. i have been mostly paying attention on this rewatch to the jasonification of jason’s doubles, particularly archie, cheryl, and chic, but there is also a lot to explore with regard to characters dressing like their parents while in the process of becoming them. (jughead putting on the serpent jacket is the first moment we know he is going to join the serpents; veronica ripping off her pearl necklace communicates more urgently than any words might how strongly she doesn’t want to end up like her parents.) we might even argue that using the same actors in the midnight club sealed the riverdale teens' fates as they became physically and therefore narratively indistinguishable from their parents, doomed to repeat their mistakes.

in summary, pretending to do something on riverdale is the same as doing it for real because everything on the show operates on an equal level of (un)reality; sartorial choices in particular take on additional consequence owing to riverdale's archie comics heritage. thus, in riverdale, dressing up as someone is not fundamentally distinct from becoming them, or at least taking on their narrative role. in this sense, then, clothing is a primary vector through which fate exerts itself on the characters, forcing them to experience plotlines that correspond to what they're wearing even if it was only supposed to be a costume.

#asks #anon #jacketposting #object theory #syllabus

[mejomonster]

Oh an FYI, for better or worse the Riverdale show is intensely inspired by Twin Peaks.

I feel like if you've ever seen twin peaks, this becomes immediately obvious within seconds of turning on Riverdale.

Like, on technicality, yes riverdale is "based on" Archie comics. And in a sense that's not totally wrong. It definitely plays with 50s aesthetics despite being set in 2000s (sort of like Twin Peaks lives in the "retro" even though it's technically not set in the past), and it uses the fact its based on a fun comic to really just have Fun going all out camp. It doesn't Care the bad guys name is Blossom like a fucking cartoon lol, it IS like one. It doesn't care the colors aren't about the realism like at all but about pretty colors, cartoons don't care if they're going for what pops. It doesn't care its calling stuff Jingle Jangle and the Serpents and the Black Hood and the Sugar Man, because hey that's exactly what a kids cartoon would do especially an older one having a fun time being ridiculous. So like yeah, in that way, you can see the comic vibe. And in a way I don't like really noticing at all and would rather ignore, it does in some ways try to keep some elements of those original core characters (which in some ways I Ah really wish Riverdale had nothing to do with an existing property because then I'd actually have no issues with it at all lol... but 1 we live in a time where almost everything is a remake adaptation prequel sequel and that's like the whole Industry top levels fault at the end of the day-.- and 2 for better and worse I think in some ways the show does actually care for the original material, which I did not expect and feel conflicted about and mostly want to avoid but it Is there if you look for it.)

Like. In a way Riverdale is if you made an Archie fanfiction Twin Peaks au. It's so Twin peaks. It screams Twin peaks for modern teenagers.

Like? Alice Cooper is the same actress that played the waitress with the abusive truck driver husband in Twin Peaks (they even use a Twin peaks image of her for the newspaper article of her younger self). Jughead's dad is one of the bad guys from Scream (and I feel like that on its own screams a LOT about horror and camp themes and references). So many shots in Riverdale (at least up to the season 2 I've watched) are direct shots from Twin Peaks. The color scheme reliance on red is Twin peaks, and the blue reliance is Riverdale playing with its own use of color the same way. The Riverdale town sign is a direct shot from Twin Peaks. Jughead and the biker gang in GENERAL and the Whyte Worm are like huge obvious parallels to the leather jacket wearing biker gang in Twin Peaks lol??? The weird dialogue, while not having the same effect at ALL of Twin peaks surreal shit, is likewise obviously trying to not be normal. Riverdale doesn't want to sound normal, it's happy to be weird as shit and whatever IT wants to be, and that's a very Twin Peaks attitude.

My dad said when Twin Peaks aired everyone thought it was so weird and interesting. And like. I'm not sure I can say I've got an opinion of Riverdale much yet, but I can say yeah... if you're used to media trying to be normal, like the other stuff, realistic, no surrealness in your media, then lmao of course Riverdale is weird. Yet if you've ever seen Twin Peaks or equally bizarre stuff, Riverdale is pretty tame and mundane and only in the shallow end of weird to be quite Frank (as of mid season 2 where I am). Like... I am DESPERATE for Riverdale to take off the training wheels for its "audience thats never seen Twin Peaks" and FINALLY go as weird as Twin Peaks! Or weirder! Give me weirder! It's still actually like... Twin Peaks episode 1 level weird, just with more camp. Riverdale hasn't even entered end of season 1 Twin Peak Bizarre levels yet.

Anyway back to my point. I think seeing it as a homage to Twin Peaks sort of makes obvious a lot of stuff that seemed... incomprehensible about Riverdale, tbh? Like... why have a biker gang, why act like you're in the past even though you're set in the present, why have a killer, why have an adult manipulating a student, why have fucked up rich people messing with the town, why have a weird bar that fights happen at, why have murders and a curfew no one listens to, why have random people hook up and have secret affairs and ties, why do people say weird shit, why are there sudden dance or singing scenes, why would a character show up doing a drug deal or hiding jewelry or trying to run away or... because Twin Peaks did. So MUCH of Riverdale is so clearly a homage to Twin Peaks.

I'm waiting for a log lady equivalent, a confusing dream sequence, a truly fucked up gambling club full of teen girls, a doppelganger, stuff Twin Peaks did that was bizarre that Riverdale hasn't even reached yet.

Tldr I just think like. It's neat. It's nice even. I like this aspect. I think a lot of early reactions I saw to Riverdale, a long long time ago back when they really were reacting to like "very ordinary plot" season 1? Was in part people reacting to a show doing some things like Twin Peaks, but they'd never seen a show do That before and so were just like wow WEIRD. And like. Fair. But also sometimes the weird feeling... is the point.

#riverdale #lb

[lesbaurinkos]

6, 9, 20 :)

6. Which musical episode is your favorite?

oh this one is so tough because i love them all in their own ways. before archie the musical i would prooooobably say the heathers episode- it's the one i default to showing friends when they want to catch a glimpse of the show's campiness- but in a post-archie-the-musical-world, well, how can i not say archie the musical <3 but every one of them is so beautiful in its own merit. i remember watching carrie air when i was like idk 16? and being forever changed by cheryl dousing herself in blood. heathers i've seen so many times i could quote it line for line. hedwig has one of my favorite songs the cast has done (origin of love) and i listen to it a lot bc like wow... jughead's verse is so genuinely good the whole thing just REALLY gets ya. next to normal has some of the most fun numbers imo like u can tell they had a lot of fun with it. the pussycats ep is SO GODDAMN FUN every moment of it is a joy to watch. american pyscho was admittedly my least favorite but they did make up for it with betty gay moments (and i think it's funny ras did his own musical). AND THEN THERES ARCHIE THE MUSICAL MY BELOVED ARCHIE THE MUSICAL AND WELL ARCHIE THE MUSICAL IS LIKE MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE <3

9. Which character has your favorite costuming? What's your favorite outfit they wore?

i answered this here but im answering it MORE because i want to talk about how i want these jugkets (jughead jackets) too. this isnt even about costuming anymore its about i can never own too many things that are plaid. YES they all look pretty much the same but YES i would wear all of them on rotation. give me your jackets and sweaters and such, jughead

20. What is your favorite quote?

of course i have to go for a classic because camila is a fucking STAR for delivering "word of my exploits serving nick his comeuppance has seeped into the demimonde of mobsters and molls my father used to associate with" she literally should have won an emmy for that. also forever a fan of "im cuckoo bananas for you, obvi!" because it's another beautiful classic. and also every single time betty has ever said "bitch" it's always delivered so passionately. so beautifully. emmys all around

#also im genuinely fond of epic highs and lows of high school football because it's so... like it's so ARCHIE. is the thing #the absolute sincerity the painful earnestness as he says something that yes is ridiculous. is the POINT of it!!! #it getting memed to death doesnt matter its supposed to be campy and it was supposed to be like archie after everything is still EARNEST! #i will always defend you epic highs and lows of high school football #THANK U FOR LETTING ME TALK ABOUT THE MUSICAL EPS I LOVE THEM DEARLY (insufferable theater kid at heart) #thejugheadparadox #riverdale #ask

[thetimelordbatgirl]

I actually meant the nickelodeon redesigns, they've just now come out along with the voice cast

Ooh....see, this is what I mean by we should have just went into this reboot with the animated series first. These designs look really good. They definitely showing up the live action movie designs. Like, Bloodgood? I adore that design and I like how the hair color matches her color scheme a lil there, and its nice to see the movie casting carried over to animated here. Toralei is interesting to see, as we didn't see her even in the movie, so nice to see she got into animated here. Her design looks pretty fitting to her character really, plus nice to see they changed it up, unlike first reboot who just....reused her OG selves design. Uh....unsure how to feel on Heath. Not sure if I like it or hate it really, looks like he's trying to be a orange version of Descendants 3 Hades with that hade, but his shirt kinda looks cool. I'm still conflicted on what this reboot did to Lagoona in the movie, but like....animated her does look better then the movie at the same time, and hoping animated gives her more to do really.

Cleo is perfection and thank fuck, they gave her the bandages finally- but um, question....that's darker skin then the actress in the movie, even with the actress tanning...did we just get another layer to uh, the lightwashing in the movie or... But ignoring the movie's bad casting choices here, I love Cleo's design here, really- the blue and gold look soo good, and its nice to see they gave her a dark skin tone, given she is Egyptian. Very mixed on Clawdeen. One hand, she looks like OG Clawdeen a lil finally but on the other hand, those clothes....look, I know movie made her into a skateboarder and not into fashion, but like...would it hurt to put in more clothes like OG Clawdeens. Though the wolf howling at the moon symbol is a cute detail. Dracualura....I am fighting the urge to groan at them carrying over the magic detail with her, and just focusing on her design here as its soo good. It fits Dracualura fully, and I do like the hat detail. Makes it easier for her to block the sun out instead of carrying an umbrella around. Frankie like the movie Frankie, is pure perfection. I really hope the animated Frankie carries over being Non-Binary like in the movie, as it'd be a step back to ignore it. Her jacket is just fitting to her design and I love the plaid skirt and while we can't see it, the prosthetic leg they giving her in animated is such a good detail.

And we end on Deuce....and he looks better then the movie. I do welcome the more Gorgon appearance, because OG Deuce was lacking there and while I do know its cause according to Garrett, they planned to reveal he was half normie, that never came to be, so him looking more Gorgon here is pretty good. And finally....they gave him GOOD shades- movie him is wearing glasses and here he's wearing shades, and I want his jacket. I just want it. It's a more fitting design for him then.....Jughead design in the film.

Like I can't express how much these are so much better then the movie still, and I do look forward to the animated series really.

#like could we just ignore the movie entirely or #cause this already looks more promising #its almost like MH looks better in animation then live action...

[adelaidedrubman]

might as well. remaining odds + johnjess

hey zak hurts you KILLS YOU with knives, you’re evil <3

3. Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

IT’S LITERALLY MY PINNED POST WHAT DO YOU THINK. they trade jackets, yeah. john will willingly give jessie his jacket, she will exclusively wear it tied around the waist or in some other way that will piss him off and frustrate his purpose in giving it to her. would wear his shirt (less willingly given) in the same way. if given unsupervised access to the vest she would burn it without a second thought rather than wear it, even ironically.

john would wear the jughead jacket, not in public of course but when he missed her and wanted to feel close to her. (you know, okay? you know.) occasionally puts on some of the graphic tees to sleep or do things around the house sometimes for the same reason, is exceptionally embarrassed when jessie (who is exceptionally smug) comes home to see him curled up in the reading nook with the book of joseph wearing her “so good with my rod i make fish come” shirt.

5. Describe their cozy night in.

they curl up around the fire, either pit or place depending on the weather. jessie brings the shittiest dirt IPAs john’s ever tasted and swears this brew is really good actually, trust her. he’s contractually obligated to drink at least two before switching to something he actually likes. if they’re indoors, they might put on a movie — if john chooses the film jessie complains it’s “pretentious” and “not shrek 2.” if jessie chooses, it’s shrek 2 (2004). if they’re outdoors she explains the plot of shrek 2 (2004) (he’s not allowed to contribute, regardless of how many times he’s also seen shrek 2 (2004) at this point. he doesn’t get it.)

they eventually get into an argument, possibly about shrek 2 (2004), possibly about something tangential. from there standard argument to sex pipeline, followed by proclamations of eternal love, cuddling, and watching shrek (2001). cue argument about why they never watch shrek (2001) first, since they do this same thing at least once a month. you basically get it from there.

7. Would they build a pillow fort together just because?

yes, while they’re watching shrek 2 (2004). they pop one of these bad boys on it.

joseph has at least once walked in to be very confused, but to john’s relief not disapproving. (dirt IPAs hidden in pillow fort).

9. What are their thoughts on having children?

you KNOW the story. heavily against, for their own individual trauma reasons, both consider themselves inherently incapable of ever truly nurturing rather than destroying, don’t think children should be brought into an evil, dying world, jessie has never gotten past her own perception that she doomed her mother by being born, etc. thoughts change when they agree to temporarily foster a set of siblings post collapse (nothing could go wrong with this) to earn easy brownie points, and when it comes time to actually let them leave to go off to be adopted by strangers, john has a panic attack (literally no one could have seen this coming) and after a very emotional discussion jerome is reluctantly present for, they end up adopting the kiddos themselves.

they eventually conceive two more, after deciding they haven’t completely ruined the first two. (or because they need everyone to know they weren’t cringe enough to name their children all J names, depending on your preferred version of events.)

11. Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell?

they think they do, but emotional outbursts are far more the brand than stoicism. but by god, do they think they’re doing something. the other can usually tell, and feels very perceptive for it (anyone else could tell, no one else actually cares).

13. Who’s the bigger tease?

john attempts it more often, but jessie is somewhat more successful at actually being withholding long enough for it to count.

15. Do they always say 'i love you' before leaving?

in their own way:)

17. Who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?

either, although jessie would be more likely to be outwardly aggressive enough to do it early on, john would be more likely to ease his way in instead of doing it in one swoop.

19. How do they feel about PDA?

oh you wouldn’t know. this you?

23. Who's more likely to convince the other to stay in bed come morning?

tough call, jessie is a heavier sleeper and tends to linger in bed for longer, but john is more openly clingy, more likely to try to keep jessie with him. point usually goes to john because he could easily get out of bed without jessie ever knowing but usually doesn’t, more likely to sit there fully awake staring at her, pretend to still be asleep when she finally starts to wake up, then ask her to please stay it’s such a nice morning he’s so tired.

29. Who is more likely to jump in an elevator? Who freaks out?

jessie (just to be obnoxious). also jessie (fear of falling).

31. Can they sit side by side without touching the other or are they handsy? (lacing fingers, touching knees, etc.)

they would literally rather die than not be constantly touching.

35. Who's more artistic?

john, who doesn’t swoon at the corpse art? (jessie sketches sometimes, though.)

37. Which is more likely to swear?

empirically proven by uquiz jessie’s nervous filler profanity is the only thing that distinguishes dialogue from jughead. at least one fuck per sentence so the cw doesn’t sue me.

39. Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think?

jessie, although she’s unlikely to keep the animal in question. (was never allowed to keep a pet as a child, has a complex).

41. Which one would take their jacket it off and drape over the other one because they were visibly shivering?

john, but it’s Her Jacket. (she likes that fucking jacket, and etc.)

43. Who would give their life for the other without a second thought?

jessie, out of spite.

47. Does either of them have a secret that could potentially ruin their relationship?

say what you will about them, they wear their worst traits on their tacky jacket sleeves with each other from day one. john’s most gruesome acts are very much on display to jessie from the get go, there’s not a lot of additional detail about his actions that could shut her down. jessie is if anything worried about her “secrets” ruining their dynamic by being too lackluster after how carefully she’s guarded them and causing his interest to wane. (possibly true, if she were more forthcoming, her obstinance is part of the appeal. girl who wants to be mysterious so bad but also cannot shut the fuck up but still doesn’t give you any personal detail but still pays such close attention to you. swoon. )

49. Does either of them have a hard time being away from the other?

we are still dealing with the fallout of her leaving for twenty minutes, and she has since promised him via their one method of assuring they’re telling the truth to each other that she would personally max out at a week.

51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?

those rare occasions they actually shut the fuck up and exist in comfortable silence? yeah. also reaching out for each other, no matter the situation, watching the other carefully for reactions, etc.

53. Would they ever go skinny dipping?

much to the county’s chagrin. banned from every body of water but seed boat launch and drubman marina.

55. Do they like watching clouds or star gazing?

:/

57. Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart?

john is the one who actually comes in with an ingredient list and a plan (he is not capable of executing either). jessie is likely to not show up to the grocery store at all, but if she’s dragged along she will throw things into the cart.

59. Who tops? Who bottoms?

rebranding jessie as a subby bottom what do we think?

#otp: stop bothering these nice folks

[iarasstuffss]

#sorry I had to #riverdale bughead #bughead #endgame #riverdale spoilers #riverdale season 6 #just kiss already #and then get naked #how strange Tabitha was there too and Jughead didn’t even look at her #i miss themmmmmm #get back together now please #not Jughead wearing the same jacket

[jugheadinjackets]

501 Climax

#501 #s5 #s4 #riverdale #jughead jones #jughead in jackets #bonus! or other #same shacket he was wearing at the end of 419

[heytherejulietx]

Jughead and teasing for the drabbles 😁

1k sleepover.

jughead - teasing.

a/n - thank you for sending this in love i hope you have a lovely day. 🤍🥰

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as jughead got more and more involved with the serpents, y/n saw him less and less, until she only could ever see him if she walked an hour across town to visit him at his trailer. they used to see each other every day at school, and on weekends when he’d climb in through her window to stay the night with her. now she was lucky if she even saw him once a week.

so on friday after a particularly stressful day at school she made a lie to her parents about staying at betty’s (because there was no way she’d be allowed to walk to the south side on her own) and headed over to the trailer with plans on staying there for the weekend. jughead had given her the spare key to the trailer when he’d moved so after the hour’s walk she just let herself in, though sighed when nobody was there.

it was another two hours before he even got back, and in that time she’d stolen some of his food (in her defence she could have died of starvation), grabbed one of his jumpers from his bedroom to wear, and curled up on his couch with the tv on. just as she was about halfway through the second movie she had put on the rumble of a motorbike outside dominated the sound and she turned to look out of the window with a smile. he was there. finally.

as he’d unlocked the door and stepped inside, she stood from the sofa, and she couldn’t help but be warmed by the smile that grew across his face when he saw her. she missed seeing him more often.

“hey,” jughead smiled widely as he dropped his helmet onto the coffee table, his bag dropping from his shoulder to follow it. “what’re you doing here?”

“i wanted to come and surprise you, it’s been a while since i stayed over.” y/n smiled, giggling when he pulled her into his arms in a tight embrace. she let herself relax in his hold, gripping onto him as she enjoyed the moment. the leather of his jacket was cold and unusual, but she ignored the feeling of it as she held herself against him. he was still her boyfriend, serpent or not.

jughead leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head and she smiled softly as his arms tightened slightly around her. “have you been waiting long?”

“like two hours.” y/n answered and she heard him sigh.

“sorry, if i’d have known i’d have gotten here sooner. i was with toni.” he responded, and y/n had to roll her eyes.

of course he was with toni. most of what she heard nowadays was about toni. she hadn’t even met the girl and yet she hated her. y/n by no means thought that jughead would cheat on her, but she was scared that maybe this toni was better for him than she was. she sounded exactly like his type; they had the same interests and went to the same school - she even had pink hair. she didn’t want jughead to realise that he could have better and leave her. she was scared they were going to drift apart.

“that’s okay, you’re here now.” y/n smiled and leaned up to kiss him for a moment, her hand against his cheek as he pulled her closer with an arm around her waist.

once jughead had gotten changed into something more comfortable and they had eaten dinner - y/n had managed to find two cans of ravioli and made some toast to go with it - they had decided to put on a movie since neither of them were tired yet. plus, y/n really wanted to make the most of the time she spent with him, as it could be a while until they got a night together again.

not even ten minutes into the movie that had been chosen - zodiac - jughead had turned to her as his arm tightened around her waist a little. “funny, i was talking to toni about this movie earlier.”

y/n couldn’t keep in the annoyed sigh at the mention of the first as she rolled her eyes, and moved his arm from around her waist as she moved to stand up, planning on escaping under the excuse of needing a drink to keep from showing how actually annoyed she was. that was the fourth time toni had been mentioned that evening, and she was honestly sick of it.

“what?” jughead asked as he looked up at her.

“nothing,” y/n huffed, attempting to step over jughead’s legs which were stretched out to rest his feet on the coffee table in front of the sofa, though before she could he reached forwards and grabbed her legs so he could pull her to sit in his lap with a protesting grunt from y/n. “jug i want a drink.”

“why are you so annoyed?” he asked with an eyebrow cocked upwards, and she didn’t hold back her glare that time at his question.

“you’ve mentioned toni four times this evening, you know that?” y/n scowled and crossed her arms.

“what?” jughead asked again, before a look of realisation flashed onto his expression and he smirked a little. “oh, i get it. you’re jealous.” he teased.

the teasing only made y/n’s glare more prominent and she shook her head. “i’m not jealous.”

“yes you are. you so are,” jughead laughed, his hands at her hips to keep her pulled down as she attempted to stand up again. “see? look at your face.”

“i’m gonna punch you in your face in a minute.” y/n warned, though the threat was practically ignored by jughead as his arms wrapped around her waist to pull her closer.

“don’t be jealous, baby. you’re still my number one.” he still looked entertained as he spoke teasingly again, so y/n leaned back as he moved to kiss her, still glaring at him as she lightly smacked his chest with her hand.

“don’t call me your number one,” she mimicked his voice. “and i’m not jealous, for fuck sake. but you see toni all the time and you never see me, and when we are together it’s toni this and toni that. i don’t care about toni, i want to spend time with you. you might as well be dating her instead if you’re so obsessed with her.” y/n crossed her arms again, not reacting as jughead pulled her close once more, his expression softening a little.

“i don’t want to date toni, love,” jughead’s voice was serious as he spoke, and she didn’t pull away when his hand moved to her cheek, though she didn’t relax either. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know it was bothering you so much. toni is one of my only friends over here, but she’s nothing more than that. i love you. not toni.”

y/n was still scowling even after he’d spoken, though she didn’t pull away as jughead pulled her into a hug, and after a moment sighed as she wrapped her arms back around him. she did feel a little better hearing it from him. though she still didn’t like toni at all. “okay,” she said quietly, letting her eyes close as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “sorry.”

“don’t apologise,” jughead mumbled into her hair as he dropped a kiss to her temple. “it was entertaining seeing you so jealous-“

before he’d even finished the sentence y/n huffed and moved to stand up again, though his arms tightened around her waist to hold her in place as he laughed.

“i’m joking i’m joking,” he chuckled as he held her closer, though grunted quietly as her elbow came in contact with his ribs harsher than she would usually nudge him. “guess i deserved that, huh?”

“yeah you did.” y/n mumbled, though she had relaxed against him again, completely forgetting about the movie and almost forgetting about how annoyed she was at toni. almost.

#amber’s 1k sleepover #amber’s writing #fyeahbughead #riverdale #jughead #jugheadjones #jughead jones #jughead x reader #jughead fluff #jughead jones x reader #jughead jones fluff

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

killing peggy carter

summary: you want revenge bc steve’s a bitch. (happy times, save for steve’s disappearance. everyone’s alive tho)

warnings: a darker steve. rough smut, a little questionable at times. a lot of angst bc i was in a mood.

pairing: steve rogers x reader, peggy carter x reader for a sec, and some steve x peggy ( 🤢 )

word count: about 9,800

a/n: not tagging anyone bc no one asked for this, i literally just wrote it like forever ago and decided to post it bc i haven’t posted in forever. also, if you go back far enough on my blog, you will see that i watch riverdale and honestly, i came up with this title before jughead wrote his emo story in the finale.

When Steve left, it was nothing short of devastating.

Your world had stopped. How could it not? You had been under the impression that someone was in love with you as much as you were in love with them. And god, you were so damn in love with Steve Rogers.

It had been a year and it still hurt just like it had that first day. You were better at hiding it now, using that as the only entertainment in your life. Being an Avenger wasn’t the same as it used to be. The world was good, you weren’t needed. Especially not while all these feelings of anger and resentment were growing inside you.

When Steve left, he took a lot. He took your heart, your soul, your fucking will to love and let yourself be loved, and he took your ability to be a hero. No hero had the darkness you had. No hero stayed out most nights dancing in sweaty and noisy clubs, being groped by strangers she couldn’t even take home because she was the definition of damaged. You had trust issues for days, and they weren’t going anywhere any time soon, if ever.

Bucky tried to help and sometimes, you had the energy to fake it. It always made him so happy to see you smiling or just talking to other men who clearly were attracted to you. But nothing would come of it. You couldn’t believe a word that any one of them said.

Steve used to look at you, tell you he loved you, tell he needed you, that he couldn’t do any of this without you. Then he had the chance to go back to Peggy Carter and he took it in a second, no hesitation. He didn’t even say goodbye.

You stayed out on the lake for three months, figuring he’d just gotten tied up. He would come back, you told yourself that every night. What finally broke you was when Nat and Bucky sat you down and told you it wasn’t going to happen. You’d always known but with confirmation from the two people that knew him best, you had to face reality. He’d left you and he wasn’t coming back.

It was a huge hit to your self-esteem. Maybe if you had been prettier. Smarter. Stronger. Better. But you were just you. Petty, small, aching. Ironically, that was how he had found you as well. The Avengers liked to bring in team members who had already been through too much. You hadn’t realized how vulnerable your past trauma made you to their type of coercion. You would do anything any of them asked. With Steve, it was different. More. And he had always known.

There was this pain in your chest that never went away. Sometimes you woke up gasping in the middle of the night, usually after a nightmare. It was as if there had been a hand around your neck. But there wasn’t because you were as alone as anyone could possibly be.

You didn’t mind it anymore. Hell, it was the only thing that you still had left of Steve. You burned everything else and not even that made you feel better. This was all much to Bucky’s dismay.

You would never tell a soul that you couldn’t part with his sketchbooks, that you had them hidden in a box underneath your bed. It was no one’s right to know. This pain was your own, the only thing you still had possession of.

You hadn’t been touched in his absence, even by yourself. It reminded you of all those times he would kiss along your skin and sing praises to your beauty. Sometimes, you wished you were ugly. Sometimes, you wished you could just get so ugly that no one would even want to look at you.

But that was not the case. You were that beautiful, strong, and caring woman Steve had fallen in love with, so they claimed. You were their responsibility. Their project. They would get you through this if it was the last thing they did. Nat, Bucky, and Sam tried merely out of their loyalty to Steve. Tony followed that lead and that meant Peter tried as well as he could. Wanda, still consumed by her own lost love, attempted, but she was probably the only person who could see you for what you were.

Thrown out trash. Abandoned, sharp pieces that could and would cut anyone who tried to help. You hated all the rest of them for not seeing it. You hated all the rest of them because in their eyes, you were still Steve’s girl.

You no longer had a boyfriend, a family, or friends. He took all of that away from you. And one day, when you were so sick of having nothing to do but feel sorry for yourself, you decided that you were going to return that favor.

Steve Rogers deserved to be just as heartbroken and empty as you. It drove you crazy. He had been the one to pursue you. He had been the one to insist that you were his, even said you were the best thing to ever happen to him.

Talking Bruce into helping was laughably easy. You claimed to need closure. You claimed you just wanted to know that Steve was happy. You wanted to tell him you forgave him. Bruce hadn’t seen you look this happy in a long while so he did what anyone would and said yes.

You wanted to wait. Steve was always so sentimental, the anniversary of the day he met Peggy was probably a day of extreme affection in their house. He probably made her breakfast, bought her some piece of jewelry that she wouldn’t even like, and spent all day telling her how much he loved her. You wanted to crash the party.

Part of you wished there was another way to do this, but there just wasn’t. Killing Peggy was the only way to take anything from him, and you had these dark fantasies that he would then kill you in retaliation. What a beautiful way to go, you hoped he would strangle you. You hoped he would set you on his lap one final time, wrap his hands around your neck, and stare into your eyes until you were gone.

Peggy was a great person, that much you felt bad about. But hadn’t Steve practically murdered you? And you were a great person before all of this. An eye for an eye. Did he think you were just going to disappear? No, he wasn’t going to get away with this any longer. He wasn’t going to get his happiness after he had ruined your whole life.

You wanted some years on them, you told Bruce ten years. Steve would be just shy of 50. You wondered what he’d look like. When he left, he had just started to get some gray hairs. You could remember that morning vividly. You wouldn’t have noticed if the sun hadn’t been shining in through the blinds perfectly onto his blonde hair. He blushed about 7 shades of red, but you promised him you didn’t mind. Because you loved him. He said he loved you back. Like an idiot, you believed him.

You arrived in his time with little care to how you looked. You weren’t here for anyone but him. You didn’t mind that everyone was staring at you oddly because instead of some huge, ugly dress, you were wearing black pants, a low-cut t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

You did need a weapon, however. Guns were cowardly. Poison could be fun. A knife, though. A knife would certainly get the point across. You tucked it into your boot and then you were on your way.

You found Peggy’s house easily. Bruce had made sure you knew where you were going and what to do if they had moved or anything like that. You’d known they would be in the same place. You’d known Steve would want to live in this domestic, pathetic lie.

There was a window that looked into the living room. It was mid-day, you figured Peggy was at work. What did Steve even do? Was there a specific activity he liked pairing with all the pure nothingness he was doing while his best friend suffered in Hydra’s hands?

You saw him sitting in a recliner in what you assumed was the living room. His hair was almost all gray, he’d cut it much shorter. Like how he used to have it, before everything with Tony and Bucky. Like how he had it when you met him. His beard was just as light and he had a few prominent wrinkles on his forehead and around his mouth. But that was as far as his aging went. His arms were still huge, his shoulders so broad, and you had the strongest feeling that that ass had held up.

You were about to go in, make your presence known when you realized he was reading a book. Your favorite book. He must have taken it with him because that looked distinctly like one of your many copies you hadn’t seen for quite some time.

You were furious, shaking and seeing red. No matter how hard you tried to breathe, you just couldn’t. You were going to cut Peggy’s heart about and show it to him. You were going to cover that ugly house with her blood. You were going to wreck him just as much as he wrecked you.

You watched Steve for three months and came to the harrowing conclusion that he was severely unhappy. Peggy would come home and they wouldn’t speak. They would sit down for dinner and say maybe five sentences to one another. They went to bed together, sometimes they had sex. You never stuck around for that because not only was that a major violation of her privacy, but damn, they were fucking boring.

When she woke up in the morning, he wouldn’t get up until she was gone. Then he would go for his run, you followed a couple of times as best you could to see if there was a piece of this puzzle you were missing. When he returned home, he would read or watch television, he went for a second run a few hours later, and returned home to do absolutely nothing but await her return.

Should this have made you happy? It didn’t. He would rather be unhappy with her than happy with you. But that was for one reason: his pride. He didn’t want to crawl back to you and admit that he made a mistake.

Your goals changed. You wanted to make him admit it. Not with words, he would never do that. But Steve was a faithful man. If you got him to stray, it would be indisputable.

You waited one morning until he was out on his run, then snuck into the house. You went through their kitchen, sometimes you moved things just to be a bitch. You went through their bedroom and discovered that Peggy had a terrible contraption that had the audacity to call itself a sex toy. That would be nice to throw in Steve’s face.

You tossed it onto the bed and got undressed as you made your way to the shower. Steve wouldn’t be gone much longer. And he would know something was very wrong when he saw your clothes.

You washed your hair, used Peggy’s soap, and only had to wait a couple of minutes after that. You heard him call out her name a few times. But then he got to the bedroom and you heard his steps hesitating.

“Peggy?”

He wouldn’t say your name, not ever. Because he could be wrong, he could be delusional. And to admit that he was still thinking about you after all this time, that was his idea of a loss.

You didn’t grab a towel as you pulled the shower curtain back and shut off the water. Dripping wet, you carefully padded across the tile floor and then out to the bedroom.

His eyes widened and he dropped to his knees. “What...what are you doing here?”

You shrugged, glancing around. “Thought I deserved a vacation.”

“Y/N, I am so—”

“Pathetic? Weak? Yeah, don’t worry, I know.” You moved closer to him, eyeing him pitifully. You were glad that you hadn’t crumbled. Months ago, you would have given anything just to hear his voice, just to see his fucking eyes. God, you hated him now.

“You’re angry, I understand.”

“Angry?” you scoffed. “Add dumb to the list.”

“I’m sorry that I hurt you—”

“You didn’t hurt me, you piece of shit. You destroyed me, you ruined my life. For all intents and purposes, you killed me. And I’m here to get my revenge.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “Revenge?”

You reached out to touch his face, trailed your fingers along his bottom lip. “Yeah, payback. I’m going to make sure I make you feel what you made me feel.”

He glared up at you. “Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

He finally stood, towering over you.

“Mmm, how I’ve missed this body.” You pressed yourself against him and as much as he acted like he didn’t like it, he never pulled away or tried to push you back. You were getting him wet and his shirt was starting to cling to his abs. You let your hands wander for a moment before they dropped down to his pants.

“Stop,” he said quietly.

And you did because you were never going to allow him to lie. Your turned up to him and stepped back.

He looked torn apart, confused. “Why are you here?”

You shrugged. “Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Well, it’s all you’re getting. You don’t need any other answer.”

“So, what’s the plan? How are you going to get your revenge?”

“I know you, Steve, I know that you believe in being a good and faithful man. I just want you to fuck me. That’s all.”

“Well, you know that’s not going to happen. You know I would never—”

“Cheat? So, then you’ve never fucked Peggy?”

“What?”

“You never left me, you never told me we were done. You, like the coward you are, just didn’t come back. Every time you’ve been with her is a lie, a cheat. You are a cheater.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?! You keep acting like there was just one thing! There were a million things, Steve. You ruined everything that we were building. And you can apologize all you want, but until I return at least half of it, I’m stuck here with you.”

“I won’t fuck you.”

“Yet,” you pointed out. “Well, I should be going.”

He grabbed your arm. “Go home.”

“I am home, baby. You’re here and you’re my home.”

He frowned.

You yanked yourself out of his hold, bending over to grab your clothing all over the room. He wasn’t going to fuck you but that did not mean he wasn’t going to look at you. So, you gave him quite the show, just like you had in the past upon his request.

You disappeared into the bathroom as if it was so natural, as if it was your own. He made no moves to follow and said nothing. As you dried yourself off, you decided now was as good a time as any. “See that terrible thing on your bed?”

You heard him step a few times, then nothing.

You scoffed. “Maybe it has to do with your age.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Still. Pretty creepy you came back to a much younger Peggy.”

“I came back to the one I left.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” You sauntered out and sent him one last smile before exiting the bedroom.

Peggy and Steve had a fight, so Peggy ducked out to some small diner. If you couldn’t get to him, you decided you were going to get to her. Peggy was sweet from the second you began speaking to her, feigning concern for her situation.

The first night you guys went out together, you wanted her to talk shit about Steve. She didn’t, she just got drunk and tried to get you much the same. You were taking her home because you truly were fearful of what would become of her without your help. And she kissed you. At first, you were startled, you pulled away out of fear and shock. She wasn’t Steve. In all your life since you’d met him, you never thought someone else was going to kiss you.

But then she looked terrified. Had she been reading you wrong? Had she messed everything up? Nah, you were adaptable. You kissed her back, explained you’d been hurt by some loser and it had been a while. She understood, or said she did, and then she was disappearing inside.

You were left wondering if Steve heard you, but not many lights in the house were on. He probably wasn’t home. Confirmed by your unlocked hotel door when you returned home just a couple of hours before sunrise.

Knowing it was him didn’t mean you weren’t going to pull your gun as you entered. He was sitting in one of the chairs at the tiny table near the tiny kitchen.

He arched an eyebrow. “That necessary?”

“I should have shot you the second I got here.” But you still tossed it onto the bed. “You know...this paints quite a scene, doesn’t it? You’re here, angry at me for being out late.” You let your purse fall to the floor, then your hideous cardigan. You had only shown up with one outfit, so shopping was necessary to keep up appearances. You didn’t know a lot about the 40s, but you didn’t want them to start burning women at the stake again because of you.

You made your way to him, straddling his lap as you took his face in your hands. “Are you upset that I broke curfew, daddy?”

He didn’t even bat an eye, but you knew that would get to him. “Where were you?”

“Out with your future wife.” One of many kickers, they had yet to get married. Peggy said it was because she wanted to wait. “Thought she would be willing to talk shit about you...thought it would make me feel better.”

“And? Did she give you anything you can use against me in the future?”

“Nah. She didn’t want to talk about you at all.”

He glared. “When are you going home?”

She shrugged. “Whenever I feel like it.” Your eyes moved over his face as you felt the deeply etched lines on his skin. “You don’t look 50 but I never thought... You remember when I found your gray hair?”

“Yeah... Thought you would leave me...that you’d want someone your age.”

“I like you like this, you know. Twice my age.”

“Have there been others?”

And just like that, the end of your friendly conversation. You pulled your hands away from him but stayed on top of him. “Others?”

“People...men you’ve let close.”

You scoffed. “Why would I do that?”

“I wanted...I thought you would move on.”

“People lie,” you pointed out. “You told me you loved me every day and then you just left. I can’t adequately explain to you how tired I am. I can’t do it again, I can’t even let myself try. I can’t get close to people the way I was close to you. I can’t move on. I can’t love someone else. I can’t do anything but hate you as much as I loved you.”

“I wasn’t lying—”

“You left. If you loved me as much as you said you did, you wouldn’t have been able to.”

“I do love you—”

You immediately pulled off him, rushing to get your feet back on the floor. No, no fucking way, he was not going to lie to you again. He was simply not allowed to anymore. You would not tolerate it.

“Y/N—”

“Get out of my hotel!” You pointed to the door. “Now, Steve, or I swear I will shoot you.”

He scoffed. “For what? Loving you?”

“You piece of shit.” You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You stormed to the bathroom and locked the door before he could intrude yet again.

He knew you wouldn’t come back out, not while he was still there. All he could do was leave. For safe measure, he at least unloaded your gun and set it on the bedside table. Maybe if you had to find it and load again, you would lose some of your anger and not ended up taking a shot at him.

How dare he? He had no right to say that to you, no right to use that word. It meant nothing coming from him because there was the implied ‘but’ along with it. Before, he just loved you. Period. Now? He loved you. But what? He loved Peggy more? He loved this time more?

You thought you had been angry before. Even though the time you were spending with Peggy was diffusing that somewhat. Still, you never lost sight of what you wanted. Needed. The idea of Steve’s heartbreak was the only thing that could get you up in the morning.

He threw you off for a few days. Every time you tried to leave the hotel room just to do something a tad evil, you would end up in bed crying. Steve thankfully didn’t try to come back, you hated the thought of him seeing you like this, letting him know that he could still do this to you.

Peggy called. You gave her the number, just in case, and she used it to express her concern for you. It wasn’t like you not to want to hang out or to just be around and bump into her “randomly”. She invited you out for breakfast the first day, then lunch the next. You said you weren’t feeling well.

An excuse she stopped taking the third night. She wanted to go dancing with you, all while her asshole boyfriend stayed at home. How could you say no? You shouldn’t, this was the entire reason you were here.

You would kill her tonight. This time was a drag and you wanted to get home. To a place where you could wear pants or a t-shirt. A place where there weren’t so many preppy men in pastels or college sweaters.

Peggy picked you up, she wouldn’t stop staring. Had it been any other day, you might have even questioned why. But you weren’t going to enjoy this as much as you thought you would. It sucked, and honestly, it made you hate Steve even more. He was your downfall, he was also her downfall, but at least he would soon be utterly alone.

It had been hours. You were just trying to dance and let the music fill your mind, but this music was shit. If you had to hear one more man sing about wanting to hold a woman’s hand… Truly, you missed the filth of your time.

Peggy was the one that wanted to leave. Peggy was the one that wanted to walk away from all the noise of the city. Peggy was the one that took you to some sleazy motel, where she gave you the briefest of looks when she’d stopped you both on the sidewalk. She was also the one that kissed you when you didn’t say anything because what did you have to actually say?

Nothing. Not one thing. You had no idea how this plan had spiraled so terribly. You were meant to come here, kill her, throw it in Steve’s face, then bolt back home like none of it ever happened.

But you couldn’t kill her, not anymore, not after seeing what a miserable life she had with Steve. You hoped she would leave him, and not just to hurt him, but to help herself. You remembered the life she had in your world, the one she had created with your husband. It was so much better than the hell she was living in here.

So, you let her take you to a room. You let her kiss you, you let her tear your dress off, push you onto the bed, and crawl on top of you. Her lips moved everywhere over your legs, arms, and stomach, and they felt like fire because they belonged to someone who wasn’t Steve.

You hated how guilty you felt. You hated that your mind was seriously considering this a betrayal, cheating. But you were trying to be kinder to yourself. It wasn’t your fault that you had fallen so hard for someone and that you had made plans because someone had promised you forever.

She knew you were thinking about him. Not Steve, of course, but the someone you had once mentioned. She didn’t mind, she just promised she would try to make you forget. You forced yourself to be present, you turned off your mind when you could. She didn’t ask a lot of you, in reality.

She wanted to be on top, she wanted you to say her name and wouldn’t let you come until you asked nicely. It was probably around the third orgasm that you stopped feeling so awful, that all of those familiar sensations weren’t triggering memories and bitter resentment. That was what she gave you with her mouth alone and didn’t move until it was evident that your thoughts had simply melted away.

When she crawled back up to kiss you, she buried her fingers inside you. At that point, who the hell even was Steve Rogers? A distant, dull pain. Peggy was here, on top of you, biting your lip, telling you to come one more time, because she knew you had it in you.

She told you that you were beautiful, that she’d never seen a body like yours. She told you that you made her feel things Steve couldn’t, that you were fun and warm and kind, and she loved spending time with you.

You were covered in sweat, your skin painted with her lipstick and bites and other marks she left all over your skin. She hadn’t come yet and refused any offers you made her, she claimed she just wanted to focus on you for a moment.

When she finally pressed her soaking center against yours, you were in an odd amount of pain. You longed for something, so much, but you had no idea what. She pulled your hair, began kissing your neck, and rolled her hips hard. You pulled her hair back, pressed your hips up when she pressed down, whimpered her name, and told her she felt so good. It was when she started fucking you harder and faster, and you were getting really close once again, that you got the sick idea to rake your nails down her back. Hard enough to leave marks.

After her finish, she collapsed onto her side next to you. The way she looked at you was kind of scary, like you were worth a lot more than you knew you were. She also looked satisfied and you hadn’t seen that look since you’d shown up. And what a fucking crime that was. Yes, Steve was a dick, but fuck, that man could seriously fuck. Why was he denying her that?

You shoved her onto her back and sat on her face because you didn’t want to be thinking about him. She kept you there until you were shaking and so fuzzy you couldn’t even sit up on your own. A tad haphazardly, you insisted on getting your mouth on her. After some convincing on your part and a few pitying laughs from her as you nearly fell over the edge of the mattress because you were still dizzy, your tongue was sliding against her skin and her hands were locked in your hair.

She needed to get home, back to her boyfriend before he started to worry. You stuck around for a bit, reluctant to return to your apartment. Maybe this was it, maybe this was all you needed. Maybe it was just time to fucking go home.

You truly worried about all of the Bucky lectures you were going to get, all of those Natasha looks, those small ‘tsk’ sounds when Thor was not only upset but disappointed in you, the judgmental eyebrows Tony would be sending your way, and those puppy dog eyes from Peter. Goodness, you were sure Peter missed you. Bruce would never trust you again, no surprise there, you had lied to him. You hadn’t thought about the consequences of your actions when you first did this. You hated, at the time, that you didn’t care if you hurt anyone.

Game over. You weren’t going home not without having scored some points, but to win, you would just end up losing more. More, you now understood that you had taken all of it for granted. Yes, your friends were constant reminders of Steve and they had been acting like you were some mission they needed to complete, but at least they loved you. That was more than a lot of people had and you would let them know about all these epiphanies if they didn’t kill you as soon as you returned.

When you made it back to your apartment, it was only to get the necklace Wanda had given you a few years back for your birthday. It was this huge stone you never remembered the name of, something you rarely took off regardless of that.

The last thing you expected was to find Steve. He looked furious and maybe, just maybe, you were going to get the satisfaction of seeing that you hurt him before you left. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He was at the table again, jaw set, glaring at the wall straight ahead of him. You were trying to think if you’d ever seen him this angry, if you’d ever even heard stories of it. Probably not. He liked to act like you were so damn delicate. Though, maybe he had been onto something.

“Hey,” you snapped after receiving no response, “Why the fuck are you in my hotel room?”

Finally, he turned to you and for the first time ever, you were scared of him.

You kept your distance, you even began moving toward your bedside table where you had your gun stashed.

“I hope you’re not looking for this.” He reached down for a moment then tossed it onto the table noisily.

Shit. “Steve…”

“You fucked her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He stood quickly, storming over to you. For a moment, you had been stunned, and it was enough for him to get several upper hands. It wasn’t as if he needed them to begin with, but with your delayed scattering back, he was able to grab you and pin you to the wall. You were completely defenseless in stupid, impractical heels and an ugly, impractical dress.

“Tell me you didn’t fuck her.”

You said nothing.

He scoffed harshly. “I fucking smelled you all over her…and now I smell her on you. You left those scratches on her back because you wanted me to know.”

“Honestly, I thought I would be gone by the time you found out or by the time you decided to confront me. In fact, if you leave now, I’ll be gone and you’ll never have to see me again.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“What? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He didn’t say anything, instead, he grabbed the neckline of your dress and tore it open. He paid no mind to your startled shoving at his chest. His eyes moved over your skin quickly, you could tell he was getting angrier with every bruise he found.

You were going to play this off, bat away at his feelings just long enough for you to escape. “Steve, I—”

He grabbed your jaw and you immediately shut up. “Go take a shower.”

Your eyebrows pulled together.

“Now.”

“No, you fucking—”

“You can do it on your own or I can do it for you. But to be clear, I will not ask again, and I’m gonna count to ten before I really lose my patience. One, two, three—”

“Steve,” you tried softly. He was still holding you there, so tight that the idea of moving was laughable.

“Four, five—”

“Steve,” you were a tad more frantic, pushing at his forearm.

“Six, seven.” He finally pulled away from you and you bolted to the bathroom without a second thought. He told you to leave the door open and you listened because you no longer had the desire to push him.

You came out in a towel several minutes later. Most of your shower was spent just trying to calm down, the rest was using any product you had to try to get rid of her scent. You didn’t want to risk further angering him with any lingering mentions of Peggy.

He was just feet away from the door when you stepped out and once again, he showed no hesitation in ripping away what covered your body. He looked you over again, briefer this time, obviously displeased with what he saw. He’d hoped most of it was just the lipstick Peggy always wore.

“Are you wet?”

“What?”

“Your pussy. Are you wet?” He was condescendingly slow with every single word and your hand suddenly itched with the need to smack him.

“No.”

“Well, you’re a liar, so I don’t believe you,” he countered. “Check.”

“What?”

“Check,” he repeated. “Now. And if I have to keep repeating myself, you’re not going to like the way this night plays out.”

You averted your gaze as you brought your hand to your center. Your breath caught audibly as you ran your fingers through. Yes, he was an ass, but your body would never stop craving his touch.

“Show me.”

Begrudgingly, you brought your hand back to him.

“Wow, how did I know you were lying? Touch yourself. Keep touching yourself until you come.”

You snorted. “Eww, no—”

He slammed his hand against the wall behind you and you fell silent again. “The same rules apply. Do it or I will do it for you.”

He had never spoken to you like this. Sure, there were the bad missions. There were the times when he just needed to fuck you to forget all the shit he had to deal with. But there was never a moment where you wondered if he would lose control, if he would hurt you unintentionally. Right now, maybe it wasn’t so much that you thought he would. You had known him long enough, loved him long enough, that you knew exactly what kind of man he was. Maybe, right now, it was that you wanted him to hurt you.

Nothing could be worse than when he left you. Nothing he did was going to hurt more than when you went back home and you were, once more, without him. Meaning that you wanted to take everything that you possibly could from this moment. All the pain, all the bruises, all those emotional scars that would add to the ones from before that you had idiotically convinced yourself you could ever get rid of.

He knew you were considering your next move and arched an eyebrow at your continuing silence.

You shook your head. “No.”

One of his hands shot up to wrap around your neck, the other hand went to your cunt where he slid two fingers into you with embarrassing ease.

You brought your hands up to his forearm and dug your nails into his skin. The harder you scratched him, the harder he would choke you—it was something established early on in your relationship. And if he was choking you, you couldn’t moan or whine like he wanted you to.

For a moment, you both stayed still. For an entire second, it wasn’t that he had left you, that you had to track him down, that you fucked his girlfriend and he was fucking furious about it. For a second, it was just you and him, like it was all the times before.

The problem was pride. It wasn’t like before and neither one of you wanted to let the other pretend. He hurt you. You hurt him. Before no longer mattered. So, you shut your eyes and turned your face away from him.

He thrust his fingers just slightly harder than you would have liked, slightly harder than he would have liked. It would sting in the morning, but you wouldn’t hate it. Crescent-shaped cuts would be found everywhere on his skin and he would mourn that they were healing too fast. Both of you knew that this was it. The end.

You were wet, that obscene sound drowning out your choked noises. He absolutely loved this, loved you. He had thought being with Peggy again would make him feel like he was finally home. It took him so long to figure out that he was wrong, to realize that you were one of the few people that actually felt like home. You and Bucky, Nat, Sam, Tony, Wanda, Thor. Not Peggy.

And he could no longer pretend when he felt you tighten around his fingers. He was fucked up and he ruined things a lot of the time. It was just in his DNA, even the fucking serum couldn’t fix that. But prior to leaving, he’d never ruined anything with you. He hadn’t realized how much he missed fucking you because he always did that right.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered.

Instead, you pushed harder at his arm and turned further away from him. Your hips started to buck against his hand, and he knew you wanted this, but he knew you were not going to give in without some fight.

“Open your fucking eyes, Y/N.”

You were not going to. After all the hell he’d put you through? Fuck that, fuck him. You were never going to give him anything he wanted ever again.

He yanked his hand away from your pussy and grabbed your jaw to turn your face to him. He knew that wouldn’t work alone and in a move of desperation, kissed you. A move to get you to let your guard down—a weak move that would not work. As his knee came up to your cunt and you began grinding against it, he started biting your lip.

You buried one hand in his hair and started pulling harder than you should have. He released your jaw to do the same to you. This was much different than how he usually touched you. He’d always been rough, but this hurt, actually hurt.

You rode his thigh with no assistance from him. He let your face go and dropped your hair in search of another tactic. You were no longer kissing, you instead rested your head on his shoulder, eyes still squeezed shut. Even when he grabbed your ass painfully, and when he smacked you after all you did was scream. Even when he grabbed your breasts and pulled on your nipples.

You kept your eyes shut the entire time and he was growing furious. He wasn’t going to let you feel anything even resembling pleasure if you weren’t going to give into him. He pulled away and grabbed your hips.

You opened your eyes then, concerned about what he was doing to you next. He grabbed your shoulder and shoved you onto the bed before you could say a word. You were on your stomach, facing away from him, busy lamenting the loss of your finish. You heard him undressing as you attempted to regain your breath and composure.

He was on top of you before that happened, yanking your legs open before he crawled up, hands stopping on either side of your head. He wasn’t going to tease, he was going to fuck you like the brat you were—hard, mean, unforgiving. He lowered his hips until his cock was lined up with your entrance and then thrust in.

Your scream must have scared the hell out of the neighbors. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cops were being called right then. It wasn’t a pleasurable scream, you certainly liked that he was inside you, but that was just your body. Your heart ached in a way that it never had. You’d thought you were never going to feel him again, but it wasn’t some beautiful feeling of reconnection. You were at square one, you would have to crave his body all over again once this was over. You would go through those same agonizing withdrawals that had truly destroyed you those first few months.

Steve grabbed your hair again and shoved your face into the mattress. He didn’t care about taking it slow, making sure that you, his precious, sweet girlfriend, were okay. He felt just as torn up as you and he couldn’t afford emotional consideration when he was so fucked up. He only knew what he wanted, for you to look at him like you used to. He would do whatever he had to do to get it. Part of him didn’t care how low he would have to go. He wasn’t Captain America here, he didn’t have to live up to the same standards.

You blindly reached back to try to catch his arm, but your attempts never even touched him. He didn’t seem to care about what you were attempting, he just fucked you. He held you down as his hips slammed against your ass and he moaned loudly, shamelessly, selfishly. You finally caught a hold of his arm and used the heel of your palm to push, but since you were out of breath and had been for quite some time, you doubted that there was any real force behind it.

“Can’t breathe, baby?” he wondered, hips still snapping, the head of his cock reaching that delicious spot inside you.

You dug your nails into his skin even though it was an uncomfortable stretch and your muscles were screaming. You were screaming, too, despite everything, despite the lack of strategy in that, but this felt too good not to. You hadn’t been fucked like this in so long, this was what you knew you would never get from someone else. This deep, soul-level connection was a one-time deal. No one else was ever going to be able to give you this.

“If I let you up, you better fucking look at me. I’m not kidding, Y/N. I’ll fucking hold you down again until I fucking come.”

Once his hand lifted from your head, you turned up and gasped for air. It was a short-lived relief as soon as his hand pressed into your neck and angled your head back. It wasn’t that you were scared, and you should have been because you wholeheartedly believed his threat, it was that you were happy to have an excuse to give in. He was stronger than you, right? No one could blame you for giving in, hell, you were just trying to save yourself. Right?

Your eyes met his and his hips stuttered. A ragged breath fell from his lips, you felt it on your hair. That hard look in his eyes softened, he looked a lot like that man that had promised you he would come back to you.

“I love you,” he breathed.

Your eyes instantly filled with tears and you clamped your mouth shut. Both hands were buried in the bedsheets because you needed something to hold, something to tear at, something to destroy to cope with the burning anger that was consuming you.

“I’m sorry, I love you.” His body moved erratically against yours, desperate for all the things he’d longed for since he’d left you. The two of you were sick together, desperate, twisted people that proved it in bed. Peggy wasn’t like that and he was drowning trying to act like he was normal, like he was that same man that she had been with what felt like centuries ago.

He collapsed, chin pressing into the bend of your neck, and you felt his cum spilling into you. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as he rode out his finish. He didn’t stop, however, now he wanted to get you off. He wanted to feel those same pathetic, proud things he experienced whenever he played your body like an instrument.

You didn’t resist, what would be the point? You fucking deserved an orgasm, at the very least. You were ashamed to admit that you wanted it, needed it. You hadn’t honestly felt alive since he left you, but this reminded you what that was like.

He groaned when he felt you tightening around him, his hand wedging between you and the mattress to get to your clit. When he did, it was over and you crashed like a wave against the shore, and you saw stars, and you felt all those things you felt when you were happily in love with a man you thought loved you back.

So, in conclusion, you felt lies.

If he thought he could fuck reality out of your mind, he was sadly mistaken. You were coming down when your hand started sliding across the mattress. Your gun was not the only precaution you took—you’d known Natasha for years and she would strangle you if that was your only form of protection.

He was kissing down your spine when you located your knife, and he had just started to speak when you turned back and just stabbed. You had a general awareness of where he was, you knew you weren’t going to kill him, and you didn’t want to. You just needed to get away, before he started talking, apologizing, making more promises.

You didn’t wait to see where you stabbed, you simply clawed away from him until you could jump from the bed. He cried out and you heard him grabbing for you, but you couldn’t stop for anything. On your bedstand was the necklace you had shown up for, you grabbed it, along with your long coat and then you were on your way out the door.

Running around completely naked in the 40s, clutching a trench coat you knew you weren’t going to leave without, shoeless, dripping sweat and cum—you’d never thought your beautiful life with Steve Rogers would take you here.

A Bucky Barnes lecture was the last thing you wanted, but it was the only thing you would be receiving for probably several months. Well, when he was done with his silent treatment. He was furious when you returned, he didn’t say a word to you. Everyone else had completely fawned over you. They hugged you, pet your hair, told you how proud they were that you came home.

Bucky just stared at you and when they all parted so he could speak to you, he simply stormed out of Bruce’s lab. But yes, Bruce was a tad betrayed, your expectation on that had been correct. You apologized profusely and brought him coffee every day, several times a day until he stopped looking at you like a kicked baby animal.

Tony was disappointed, but not to Bucky’s extent. He simply could not fathom the hold Steve had on you still, told you as much. You admitted that you were wrong, and well, with Tony, that was really all he needed. He wanted to be right and he wanted you to tell him that you learned your lesson. To the untrained eye, he would look like a narcissist. But you knew him better, you knew he was just scared of losing you. Again. He merely wanted to know that you were sticking around and that was what you conveyed when you told him you had made a mistake going in the first place. He dropped it, like it never happened.

Natasha didn’t let you out of her sight for almost two complete weeks. She watched you and you felt her watching you, but she wasn’t going to pry. She was angry, but she was still handling you with gloves on. She wasn’t going to push you emotionally no matter how badly she wanted to. She also wasn’t going to ask questions, scared that prying would move you further away. You told her you saw Steve and that you got what you needed, she nodded, and that was the end of it. She still watched you, but she was slyer about it. She made sure you were in your room when she woke up and went to bed, but she took up Tony’s pretending routine as well.

Wanda didn’t need to ask anything; she knew because she read your thoughts. She knew because she had been outraged that you left without a goodbye, so she felt entitled to those thoughts. Not because she needed to know what happened but because she needed to know if you were going to try anything else again. She stopped being mad at you one day when you were making Bruce coffee. You hadn’t heard her, you were there in the kitchen, stuck in your own thoughts. She hugged you tight, didn’t say a word, but just like that, it was over.

Almost everyone had gotten over it in record time. You knew you were an asshole and you apologized, and you meant it, but even if you hadn’t, it wasn’t like they were ever going to hold it against you. Sometimes, knowing that, it made you feel worse because these people loved you and just like Steve had done to you, you hurt them. In the exact same way. You left.

Sam was in a much more difficult position. He felt a duty to you as one of Steve’s closest friends, but he also felt for Bucky. You’d really hurt Bucky and Sam could forgive you for being reckless, psychotic almost, even selfish. But the look on Bucky’s face when they discovered that you were gone was a hard thing to shake.

He stopped ignoring you after a couple of days, but the conversations were short, shallow. He didn’t ask about your time there and he didn’t ask about your feelings after. It was all small talk and polite conversation, it seemed like you barely knew each other at all. But sometimes, you would catch him watching you, like he was looking for signs of something that he couldn’t ask you. He wanted to know if you were still torn up by this Steve thing.

You were. You cried a lot, as if it happened all over again. Technically, in a way, it did. But you didn’t show them that, it was no longer their burden to bear. You had caused them pain when they tried to take yours away. You waited until you were alone or out of the tower, you cried quietly and quickly. You did not allow yourself those days where you would just hole up in your room. You were always awake early, asleep late, and you took care of yourself because you owed them all at least that.

You knew when Bucky was less angry, but you weren’t going to approach him. You were totally fine just waiting for him to let you know when he wanted to speak to you, which was one random morning after you’d finished sparring with Nat.

He was waiting outside the gym, muttered that he wanted to speak to you, and even Natasha had the good sense to get lost. It wasn’t going to be pretty, that much was clear. It was in his tone, his eyes, his tense posture.

He took you back to your room and ordered you to sit on the foot of your bed. He paced for a long time and you didn’t say a word or make a sound. When he finally looked at you, you seriously worried he might kill you. He was angry all over again, had worked himself up with his thoughts but you weren’t sure why entirely.

“Did you see him?”

You nodded.

“You talked to him.”

“About…everything? Um, no, not really.” There hadn’t been that conversation. Any attempts on Steve’s part were expertly diverted by you, with all your ill intentions and knowledge of how to get under Steve’s skin.

He nodded curtly. “So, this was for nothing then? You put me through all of this shit for nothing?”

“Bucky, I’m really so—”

He was storming out of the room before you finished your sentence.

You didn’t see him for two days, and when you did, it was clear again, you would be getting more silence. You told yourself you couldn’t be that hurt. You’d hurt him first, that meant he had the right to express his feelings even if that resulted in him not speaking to you.

Several days later, Bucky dropped his Winter Solider persona and became a worried, bitter mother hen. You were sick, it wasn’t something that you thought was a big deal. He’d come to speak to you again and with his enhanced hearing, heard you puking in the bathroom.

When you were done, he forced you back into bed and got Bruce. Bruce did the usual, it wasn’t as if anyone was worried, he was just too scared not to indulge Bucky. Speaking of, he was off in the corner of the room, claiming that you’d probably gotten some kind of time-traveling bug. He was being dramatic, and you became aware of what exactly had drawn him and Steve together all those years ago. Extra bitches.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bruce assured. “Her temperature is fine.”

“Take her blood, test it for time-traveling bugs.”

You rolled your eyes, and because Bruce had heard of the Winter Soldier, he did as was directed. Even though you were pretty sure that Bucky wasn’t serious. Not completely. Once Bruce had the excuse of focusing on your blood, that left you and Bucky alone.

“Why did you even go?”

This was not going to go over well. “Um…I had a plan…”

“A plan,” he repeated. “To do what?”

“I was sort of…kind of, just a little bit, going to kill Peggy.”

His mouth dropped.

You rolled your eyes. “I know that was stupid—”

“You’re insane!”

You glared. “Bucky.”

“You didn’t do it, right?!”

“No,” you huffed. “I should have, would have been putting her out of her misery. He’s such a fucking tool.”

He dragged his hand down his face, holding his jaw as he leaned over in his chair and pressed his elbows to the tops of his thighs. He was silent for a very long time before saying, “Yeah…he is. Did he hurt you?”

The bruises had been painfully obvious, there was no way to hide them, and you knew they could all guess what they came from. You felt your skin getting hot as you shook your head. “No. He wouldn’t do that, Bucky.”

He scoffed. “I thought that…but he did leave you and I never thought he could do that.”

“He’s…not different,” you claimed. “Just…”

“A fucking tool.” He nodded. “I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“No, I’m really sorry, Bucky. I’m not just sorry for leaving and upsetting you. I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry that you wasted months trying to make me feel better and then I just left. I’m sorry that I took you guys for granted, I’m sorry that I didn’t know how fortunate I was to have people who love me as much as you guys do. I know I betrayed your trust so it’s not going to mean much, but I will never do anything like that again.”

His eyes flit up from the floor to your face. “I do love you. So fucking much. You’re my only connection to him. And you left and I didn’t have that, I didn’t have you and I didn’t have him, and I was just…lost.”

You felt those familiar pricks in the back of your eyes, but you told yourself not to cry, you didn’t have the right. But just as soon as his eyes filled with tears, you couldn’t hold back your own anymore. He practically flung himself off the chair to rush to you, arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders.

You weren’t sure how long you both stayed there, just clinging to each other. This felt like the end of all the tension, though. This felt like a fresh start and you and Bucky were just going to have to move on without Steve. You pondered that for a while. You would have to try to find him a girlfriend or a boyfriend so he wouldn’t try to find you someone. It was going to be a little give and take, probably a major power-struggle every now and then, but it was going to be good.

The only reason you two pulled away was because both a frantic Bruce and Natasha ran into the room. They’d made all the noise two people could possibly make as they did so, crashing into each other because the doorway wasn’t big enough for the both of them.

They were wide-eyed, out of breath, both looking like they had just seen a ghost. But a much different ghost since they both regarded one another with a look of confusion.

“What is it?” Bucky demanded. “Wait, she doesn’t really have a time-traveling bug, does she?”

“Oh!” Bruce scoffed awkwardly, “I’d say so!”

You narrowed your eyes. “What the hell does that mean?”

“That can wait!” Natasha declared.

“No, it certainly cannot!” Bruce insisted.

These were two people who were normally soft-spoken, not because they were meek or soft in any general sense—hello, Black Widow and the Hulk—but in that they didn’t like drawing so much attention to themselves.

As they both started hissing arguments back at each other, Bucky sighed.

You glanced at him and he shrugged at you in response. Things were all better one second, but the very next, the world was ending.

Both Bruce and Natasha turned back to you with resolute looks on their faces. Natasha only spoke loudly this time because she was hoping to yell over Bruce, “Steve is back!” And Bruce yelled in a completely indelicate manner because he was shocked, horrified, extremely concerned, “You’re pregnant!”

Oh, shit.

Natasha and Bruce took a second to process what the other said and then gasped, turning to one another to share a look. They faced you again and decided to repeat the news only, Bruce screamed about Steve being back and Natasha more so framed it as a shrieking question you’re pregnant?!

You glanced at Bucky.

His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed just slightly. He merely nodded once then stood, throwing his hands up in the air. “Well, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

Yep, the world was most certainly ending.

#steve rogers x reader #why write what you requested when i can just be a moody water sign and write angst? #i don't even remember when i wrote this and i barely edited it honestly bc i'm just kinda over it #i wouldn't have even posted it bc it's been THAT long but i spent time on this so #my writing

[wlw-multi-fandom-imagines]

Hey, may i ask for a little scenario where Cheryl blossom falls for a new Femreader student who's a pro kick boxer and can kicke asses (but at first sight she doesn't seem like it) when reader intervens on day when Cheryl Veronica and Betty start an argument with some guys from the sport team who are quite violente. Thank you !

Before she signed you up for your first lesson, your mother had very solemnly laid out a few ground rules regarding your year-long campaign start kickboxing.

1.  No hanging out after hours at the gym

You were only 14 at the time, but your mom wasn’t naive and she noticed the intensity in your gaze as you’d pass the gym and the way your face reddened as you stammered out a few words to the older girls standing out front when they asked if you were interested (in kickboxing, of course).  If she was going to pay for lessons, you’d better be focused on your trainer and not securing a hookup for later.

2.  No hiding injuries

You had hated going to the doctor since childhood, and it became apparent early on that you would go to great lengths to avoid doing so.  From denying fevers to the time you had hidden two broken toes for a week, you always made every effort to mend yourself up before revealing anything was wrong.  If you were going to fight, you had to be honest and suck it up enough to see a doctor if you needed to.

3. No fights outside the ring.

That one had been hard to stick to at times.  Though not violent by any means, you were quick-tempered and needed to get a handle on it if you were going to get “punching lessons”.  

You had agreed to all of these rules, to your mother’s subtle surprise, and had been in the gym every afternoon after school since.  And, to her immense relief, you didn’t allow the other women at the gym to distract you.  It was easier than you had initially thought, especially considering most of them were hot-headed and honestly a little too similar to yourself to consider dating.  

Cheryl, on the other hand...Cheryl got you wrapped around her finger within weeks of your arrival to Riverdale.  Your official tour guide to the new school, Betty, had introduced the two of you during your lunch period.  One look at the subtle flex of your muscles beneath the shirt you were wearing was enough to catch her attention, and the game was on.  

--------------------------------------------------

“Hey, your girl and her little friends are starting a fight.”

You looked up from your phone, frowning in confusion at the unfamiliar person in front of you.  You hadn’t cared to get to know many others at the school once settling in with Cheryl and her friend group, but judging by the sweatshirt, this was clearly the girlfriend of one of the lacrosse players.

“What?”

“Cheryl, Betty, and Veronica are in the parking lot with some of the football-”

You didn’t bother staying to hear the rest, opting instead to zip up your backpack and sling it over your shoulder.  Standing up quickly, you brushed past a few fellow students just arriving in the student lounge and high-tailed it towards the front entrance.

As you neared the doors, you saw a small crowd gathering near the parking spots that were unofficially reserved for the football players (aka: if you parked there and weren’t on the team, your tires were going to be deflated by lunch) and quickened your pace.  

“You seriously don’t have anything better to do than fake an insurance claim against a sophomore?”

Veronica’s voice was the first one that you could make out clearly as you pushed your way through the spectators.  A knot tightened in your stomach as you finally broke into the center of the crowd and spotted her, Betty, and Cherly at a standoff with five douchebags in letterman jackets.  You glanced around the sea of unfamiliar faces, hoping to spot Archie or hell, even Jughead.  

Nope.  You were the only reinforcement so far.

“Look, the little freak clearly came whipping into the parking lot way too fast and smashed into me and I have a few witnesses here that will back me up.”

“As if.  You literally almost ran Jughead and me over the other morning,” Betty pipes up.  

“And for someone always flexing Daddy’s money, you’d think you’d be able to afford to get a little scratch fixed.  Actually, I bet your Daddy would just love to hear all about this and all about that time two summers ago when you-”

“Shut the fuck up, you bitch.”

The Lead Douchebag lunged forward, a sudden surge of anger and panic replacing the smug features that had painted his face before Cheryl began her remark.  Whatever happened two summers ago was clearly something he intended to take to his grave, and she had struck a nerve in the same way that watching him rush her like that struck a nerve with you.

“Oh!”

The crowd reacted to your swift punch with one unified sound of surprise and teenage exhilaration, but the ringing in your ears drowned out any further responses over the next few minutes.  Five against one wasn’t a fair match by a long shot and you took quite a few blows, but the football players didn’t have the form or the stamina that you had.  So, when you landed a solid hit to the face or a kick to the leg, it gave you enough time to move on to the next opponent. 

The scene soon descended into chaos, with more students arriving to add to the jeering, screaming sea of onlookers desperately trying to record every second of action on their phones.  Eventually, Archie and Jughead were among them and turned it into a 3v5 before a few administrators caught wind and rushed outside to break things up.

---------------------------------------------------------

“My mom is gonna be so pissed.”

Cheryl’s head tilted to the side, expression soft and filled with subtle adoration as you pressed an icepack to your cheek and slumped against the back of the bench outside of the principal’s office.  Apart from your face, your left side and your knuckles are really the only things that hurt much right now.

“No she won’t; Principal Honey isn’t even calling home and we aren’t in trouble.”

“Yeah, but this will bruise,” you said, shifting the ice, “and I’m not great at lying to her.”

“God, your healthy relationship with your mother is constantly both surprising and refreshing.”  The redhead reached over to squeeze your leg and you looked away, a little bashful at how she always teased you over the difference in parenting styles your mothers had utilized.  “But is it really that big of a deal?  Surely she has to be used to this kind of thing by now.”

“Not exactly.  I’ve never actually been in a fight outside of, you know, the scheduled ones...” you admitted, once again feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment.  Cheryl looked surprised and like she didn’t fully believe your statement.

“Never?  And here I thought you spent your days before Riverdale saving many a damsel in distress.”

“Nope.”

“Well today you saved three, since I’m deciding to count Betty and Veronica as my fellow damsels.  And to say thank you, we’re treating you to dinner at Pop’s and then drinks and a little performance in the speakeasy.”

You arched an eyebrow, then grimaced at the flash of pain in your face.  

“Performance?”

“Just something we’re throwing together,” Cheryl winked mischeviously and just like that, any lingering concerns about your mother’s reaction to this disappeared.

#cheryl blossom #Cheryl blossom imagine #cheryl blossom x reader #wlw imagines #wlw imagine #riverdale #riverdale imagine #riverdale x reader

[scorpionwins]

Alright everybody today we're losing it over 3 things:

Pastel Jughead

Northside Jughead being adopted by Fred

Jughead & his many lady friends

SO HERE'S THE THING- IM CRYING, JUST, - JUG. JUG ALWAYS WANTING TO WEAR PRETTY PASTEL THINGS BUT HE COULD NEVER BC IT WOULD MAKE FP LOOK BAD, THEN BC he doesn't want to put a burden on fp. From a painfully young age, he knew they weren't well off, so yes, hand me downs would suffice, no worries.

There's also that lingering, possessive fear digging through his hopes, that maybe it won't matter, that people won't care, but-

but then he remembers Kevin getting slammed for wearing lip gloss on the playground, or how Archie stopped writing his songs with glitter pens after some douchebag made fun of him.

Or how Jason loved playing dolls and match dresses with Cheryl until he was stopped. And he's just- there's gentle advisory to hide all of that, and so he does?

But then they grow up, and Riverdale, at least in some places, does too. So when Betty kindly offers him some clothes to try on, offers to teach him how to do make up, Val, Polly and Veronica fast on call, having their little fashion shows, it felt... free.

SO, ns jug and ss sweet pea who met through fangs, whom jug found battered up behind the movie theater and took him home to patch up, and it was infatuation at first sight.

Sweet Pea is bold and confident and makes gold feel lesser and he loves the blush preening, bashful but fervid across Jug's face, illuminating the freckles he's found himself counting more than once, and he says he'd like to see it more often.

So Friday. Jug better be ready.

And so - so Jug IS, invites Sweet Pea to his room until he goes to tame his brother Archie, his sister Cheryl (bc in a perfect world Fred adopted Cheryl ok don't tale that from me) and Papa, " protective cave people. You know."

And sweet pea just watches him, a ball of indigant fluffy bed hair, hopping down the stairs.

" You can't ruin this for me! This guy is so sweet and smart and cool, why aren't we talking about Archie's unrelenting habbit of bringing a new girl over every week. I don't want to shame anyone but its really mean I'm the only one targeted!" And he snorts.

This dork will make such a good boyfriend, yes, he can already see it, boyfriend to husband to maybe possibly father of his children.

But he's not thinking too fast. No.

It's just- Jug is a good boy, starry eyed bright, sea water calming and tranquil, makes you want to drown, and sweet pea would. He doesn't know how something that pure goes hand in hand with all the dark he's wearing. A dark he doesn't even enjoy, by the look on his face.

But then. Then sweet pea sees. Pretty pink clothes, shirts and sweaters and skirts, pastel everything, some on the bed, some on the bean bag, and his insides freeze over. They look awfully close in resemblance with the other ball of pastel, sunlight forrest green that creep him out. And Sweet Pea assumes the worst.

Just- Jug coming back, excited, saying that he actually convinced Fred to let him ride on a motorcycle, but sees the dark on sweet pea 's face, watches fingers casually tear his pretty fabrics apart, then fling it at jug and jug- he's he's so upset, water pooling around his eyes, " w- why?"

" why? Cause you're fucking disgusting. THIS is disgusting," gesturing to the mess and rags of Jug's precious things, sliced by a talented blade, precise, masterful, gleeful. " God, I'm so glad I didn't let you touch me. You've got to be one of the sickest fuckers I've ever met. WHY would you bring me here, knowing I'd find out?"

Lips trembling, shaking like fluttering petals blew by wind, Jug, shame eaten, mortification boiling him from the inside out, " I- I didn't think you'd- you'd care."

There's betrayel, soft but noticeable, because he TRUSTED sweet pea, trusted Fangs' promises of their youthful viewpoints, how they're progressive even with their slightly traditional tracks.

Sweet Pea, floored, scoffs, like Jug is spewing some of the most offensive words he's heard in a lifetime, and shakes his head. " Northsiders are something else. Crazy fuckers, the lot of you. Dont look for me, or that pretty face of yours won't stay pretty for long"

He carries that bravado with him out the door, but as soon as he reaches his truck, Sweet Pea cries, you know he does, because there goes his heart, broke open by another northsider with too much time on their hands and not enough life in their hearts.

Meanwhile, Jug is cleaning his room, sobbing quietly, because the boy he likes hates his pretty clothes and thinks Jug is disgusting.

there's nothing Cheryl does better than revenge.

She watches Jug, shoulder to shoulder with a paired of concerned amber eyes, angry, wrathful, as her baby brother gently packs the clothes into a bag, shoulders trembling as if he's carrying so much weight on them Atlas would bow.

Watches him, head down, little trash bag filled with the same things that nerd was so bright eyed with excitement at just a few months ago, and knocks on Betty's door.

He apologizes, Cheryl knows, because of the loving, fond crease between Betty's brow, when Jug would apologize for seemingly nothing and shed say "why"? With her face alone.

She spots the blankness taking over as she opens that bag, slowly, eyes not changing once her and Cheryl lock eyes.

" Fetch my phone, Archie. This is a Code Red."

So here Jug is, under his fluffy blankets, cuddlin and hugging FP's serpent jacket, hoping a gentle hand would materialize out of thin air and brush through his tangle of curls.

When suddenly, it's yanked, and he makes a sad sound of dejection, upset because he wants to SNUGGLE and forget that he's but a mere goldfish in this bitch of a world but surprise surprise, lady friends.

Lady friends holding hair brushes and cosmetics, clothes of all kinds, all comforting, mischievous storms.

Jug whines, low in his throat, uses the leathers as shield. The bed shifts under multiple weights, but he can recognize them all- the soft, private gentleness Cheryl secures only for him, now more tender than ever through his curls.

Betty's ginger squeezes around his thigh, Val, feline agility, perfect grace snuggling around him.

Ethel's timid but strong pat on his shoulder, accompanied by Ronnie's playful tickle to his sides, sending him in a shriek that he needed. They're all there, all pieces of his heart that he'll never forget. " wh- what are we doing?"

" Revenge, dear hobo. Revenge. You know the best way to get it?"

" ...Success?"

" yes. And the best way to kill?" When he doesn't responded, Cheryl's eyes thunder. " Beauty."

#jughead jones #basically jughead jones being feminine to flip the bird to toxic masculinity #i love soft jughead to heck with u guys #riverdale #sweet pea #jugpea #chughead #archie andrews #veronica lodge #betty cooper #valerie brown #fangs fogarty #jeronica #bughead #ethel muggs #cheryl blossom #polly cooper #headcanons #writing #ramblings #text post #text #angst #sweet pea fucks up but don't worry the misunderstandings get resolved #fluff

[stonerbughead]

my updated tv pin collection. can someone in the nd fandom make a nace enamel pin like it would be a...missing piece, shall we say

should i decode under the cut in case some don't recognize?

im not being an individual on my own denim jacket = DERRY GIRLS (netflix)

copper boom and rory/lorelai gilmore hugging = GILMORE GIRLS (netflix)

bingo bronson character = BROAD CITY (hulu)

true love sign = DAWSON'S CREEK (netflix)

patrick playing simply the best = SCHITT'S CREEK (netflix)

betty wearing jug's beanie + betty and jughead = RIVERDALE (netflix)

marianne and connell = NORMAL PEOPLE (hulu)

Tim Riggins = FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS (hulu and also netflix i think? i cant keep up with the streaming wars)

Sabrina Spellman = THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF SABRINA (netflix) which tbh i never finished but it's from the same creator as my bughead in a heart one and i thought it was cute

#enamel pins

[lesbaurinkos]

1, 3, and 9!!!

1&3 answered here but i ALSO wanna say how much i love s5. i think mothmen plotline is so fun- all of s5 jughead is so fun, really. i love u CANONICAL RABIES- and also we get tabitha my beloved tabitha and she immediately brings so much heart and soul and it's just. so fun. they really do capture the weird displaced sense of coming back to your hometown after you've been gone for a while and since the season was airing when i'd first left home in my OWN small town to go to college in nyc and coming back for holidays felt really weird so it's really dear to my heart ^_^ also jarchie roomates. god

9. Which character has your favorite costuming? What's your favorite outfit they wore?

cheryl EASILY has my favorite costuming literally everything she wears is absolutely delightful and perfect for her entire gothic heroine schtick. shes never not slaying. in particular i love her post-timeskip outfits especially these ones (i know the massive red one was technically abigail but it was just so FUN) (and i love when her sleeves are also gloves) (and i love boobs)

but also in terms of clothes IIIIIIII would actually WEAR. well. im a lesbian. its jughead. its always jughead. i love his stupid gay little outfits i would wear the hell out of them. a favorite of mine is the yellow jacket from the night gallery.... i think about it often.. plus the gayass shirt he wore to get rabies in the same episode. PLUS all the fuzzy-collared jackets he has i want them all of course. and the folk heroes outfit (full gayass image of course)

but like all the endless flannels too. im predictable and have an inclination for flannels

#WOW this got long sorry. im having a ball i cannot lie #THANK U for giving me an excuse to ramble about outfits #yououghtaknow #riverdale #ask