uselesssomebodylibrary

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

Swinging

Javier Peña x plussized!f!Reader x Steve Murphy x Connie Murphy

Rating: Explicit. MDNI, 18+ Word Count: 3k+

Summary: Connie and Steve come over to play!

Warnings: slight canon divergent (Connie had Olivia instead of them adopting), swinging, drinking mention, dubcon (bc of the drinking but like, no ones drunk and the activity was planned before hand but like ~just to be safe~), playful ass swat, smut, dick sucking, pussy eating, fingering, protected PiV, pet names: baby, honey, cariño, mi amor, Connie breastfeeds and that's all I'm saying on that, no use of Y/N.

A/N: Last chapter in this world. I honestly had to fight myself to get it out and while @toxicanonymity 's love for the series pushed me through (this chapter is basically for her) idk if I can do anymore for these 4. Beta'd by the wonderful @sweetercalypso who did a beautiful job with helping me 'say' what I wanted to 'say' lmao.

“See I told you Murph, prettiest fucking picture.” Javi runs his hand over your head, down and around so he can cup your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You pull off his cock with a wet pop, stroke him slowly as you lean into his hand. “You’ve been talking about this?”

He huffs. “Of course. All fuckin’ week.”

You widen your eyes and bat your lashes. “You know what would be prettier?” Biting your lip you scoot over on the carpet. Hmmm? “Connie, kneeling here, gagging on your cock as I finger her wet little pussy.”

“Fuck.” Both men moan as the words leave your mouth.

You look over at Steve, his eyes blown wide and trained on you, his hands buried in Connie’s hair. At Connie who was looking between Javi’s face, his cock, and then you hungrily. “You don’t mind, do ya Steve? Give yourself a moment to… calm down.”

A bright smile affixes to his face. “The whole reason for tonight, wasn’t it?” He releases Connie’s hair and tilts his head towards you and Javi. “Go on baby, show them you’ve been practicing.” She releases him and licks her lips as she scoots over to you, you watch as her breasts jiggle with her movement, bouncing gently; bigger, fuller than before Olivia. They were just a handful before, for your hands at least, and you often fantasized about being able to fit the whole thing in your mouth.

Once she settles, you lean forward, brushing her hair to the side and pressing your lips against her soft shoulder, your other hand sliding across her hip to her stomach, splaying your fingers across her soft belly. Gently gathering her hair in your fist, you push Connie forward, chin on her shoulder, “Saw how well you were taking Steve, being such a good girl. Taking that big cock in your throat,” you murmur, watching as she grabs hold of Javi, the way his cock jolts in her hand, Javi’s dark eyes flicking from her to you and back as Connie’s lips part and she takes his tip in her mouth with a moan.

Javi’s head falls back, “Oh fuck Connie, baby. Just like that.” His hands fist the sheets on either side of himself as Connie lowers her head, hollowing her cheeks as she goes. You just watch, hand still in her hair, not pushing or pulling, just holding. The hand on her stomach dips down, plays with the band of her pretty little blue panties, the ones that match Steve’s eyes. An open mouthed kiss to her shoulder as your fingers dip under the band, through her coarse curls and into the dampness of her sex.

Tongue gliding across her shoulder and up her neck, your fingers search out her clit, applying the barest amount of pressure and circling. Connie widens her knees for you, moaning with her lips still around Javi, her hips chasing your fingers as you kiss and suck at her neck. “So wet already, Connie?” You whisper, looking over to see her head down, nose buried in Javi’s sparse hair. “Look at you, taking Javi’s cock like it’s nothin’.”

“Hey!” Javi moans out as he pushes himself up on his elbows.

She pulls off with a pop, stroking his cock and turning to look at you, a string of saliva at the corner of her mouth. “I had a good teacher.” You lean forward, pressing your lips against hers, licking into her mouth, tasting Steve and Javi on her tongue.

Pulling back slightly, your gaze flicks to Steve, his eyes half lidded as he watches you two, his weeping, beautiful cock in hand. “And you had a good partner to practice with.”

Steve licks his lips. “Why don’t y’all get up here on the bed, get comfortable?”

Connie moans as your fingers do another pass on her clit. “But I haven’t made Connie come yet,” you pout up at him.

“Come on baby, you can make me come on the bed.” Connie reaches down and grabs your wrist.

Javi leans forward. “Let me taste, carino.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Maybe I wanna taste Javi, did you think of that?” Holding your hand up between you, you lean forward, sliding your fingers against each other, tongue out, heading for your pointer finger. Javi mimics you, grabbing your wrist from Connie - who scoots back to her spot by Steve.

“Good thing you have two fingers covered then.” He pops your middle finger in his mouth, tongue swirling around the digit and moaning, prompting you to quickly pop your pointing finger in your mouth. Your lips connect with Javi’s as you suck Connie’s come off your fingers.

Javi pulls your hand away from your mouth and plants his lips on yours as he pulls you up into his lap, trapping his cock between the two of you as you straddle his lap.

With a growl, he rolls you onto the mattress, gently bumping into Steve and Connie who’d already found their places on the bed, Steve’s hand between Connie’s legs as he murmurs in her ear. Your eyes trail up from his hand to her chest.

“Connie, you’re leaking honey.” You shove Javi’s shoulder to get him to sit up.

Her eyes pop open and she looks down. “Aw shit. I fed and pumped before we left for dinner. Thought I’d be fine until her nighttime feeding.” 

Steve removes his hands and reaches over to the bedside table, grabbing a tissue for her. You watch a few drops leak down across her stomach. “Do you need to go pump?” 

Connie dabs at her chest and sighs. “I probably should, or at least go in the bathroom and express it into the sink. Not like Olivia can have it anyway since I drank at dinner.”

Your mouth starts to salivate. “Have you tasted it?” Your eyes lock onto Steves.

He smiles. “It’s kinda like sugar water? Sometimes like cantaloupe or cucumbers. Depends on what she’s had to eat that day.”

Javi sits up, interested as well. “And expressing it is just… milking yourself?”

“Basically, but it shouldn’t take me long-” She starts to get off the bed.

“Now hold on there, sweetheart.” Javi reaches out, grabbing onto her hand gently as his eyes flicker towards you to assess your interest. “Could we… help you with it?”

“Or does that weird you out?” you interject, seeing the unreadable look on her face. 

“N-no. It doesn’t weird me out. I thought it’d weird you guys out if y’all were sucking on them and then suddenly milk in your mouth.” 

She cups Javi’s jaw. “Is that what you want?” Talking softly, her gaze slides over to you. “What you both want?”

“If only you knew how long I wanted to taste your pretty little tits.” Javi stands, still holding her hand to his chest. “Do you need anything? For after?” 

Connie shakes her head and Javi kisses her hand before dropping it and rounds the bed, climbing in and settling down on the other side. “If you wanna lay here, then mi amor, you next to her? Steve behind you? Then we can really get this show on the road before you two have to go back upstairs.”

Steve helps Connie out of her panties before she crawls over, giving her a little swat as you grab the other cheek and squeeze, feeling your clit throb at the sight of her wet hole. 

“You know Connie…” Your voice trails off as she looks at you over her shoulder, and the image makes your heart thud in your chest.

“Yeah?”

“Your husband got to play for two nights, I think you’re due for a weekend away from the baby.” 

Javi helps Connie get comfortable, his mouth immediately latching onto a breast with a deep moan, his hand gliding down her stomach to her pussy.

“Didn’t get two whole nights.” Steve grumbles as he leans back on the headboard.

Tearing your eyes away from your husband and your best friend, you crawl over to Steve and kneel beside him, wrapping a hand around his cock.

“Not like we’re gonna be fucking her the whole time,” you murmur into his ear. “I helped her with the throat thing, maybe in those two nights I can help her with the ass thing.” 

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, moaning as you jerk him off. 

“Just think about it – Javi fucking her cunt, you in her ass, me on Javi’s face.” His cock twitches in your hand and you smile. “Or you and Javi can switch places, and you can eat me out while you fuck your wife’s pretty cunt.”

“Ah- fuck baby,” He groans, putting his hand over yours and stopping your movement. “You better stop that if you want me to fuck your pretty cunt.”

A hand lands gently on your back as Connie moans your name. Steve tilts his head towards Connie, the corners of his mouth tilting into a smile, and you give him a firm squeeze before rolling over and laying next to her. Milk trickles down her breast and you lap it up, the sweet taste of the milk mixing with the salty taste of the day’s sweat on her skin. Connie moans, gripping onto Javi’s head as he suckles on her tit, his fingers buried between her thighs.

Latching onto her other breast, your hand moves down to join Javi’s, nudging this thumb from her clit to take over, her body writhing under the both of you. You feel Steve move, the bed dipping as he scoots down and settles between your thighs.

Milk floods your mouth. Steve was right, a little sweet, but it’s warmer and more watery than you were expecting. Your fingers gently circle her clit as Javi whispers in her ear. You can’t hear the growling words he shares with her, but you feel his hand moving below yours and you can guess what he’s doing as Connie’s body gives a little jolt and a long drawn out moan passes from her lips. Steve’s tongue parts your lips as he swipes at your clit, pulling the same sound from you.

“Such a good girl,” Javi growls against Connie’s neck. “Letting me fill both her tight holes.”

“Ugh fuck, harder, please, I’m so close,” Connie moans, burying her face in Javi’s hair.

“Harder? S’that what you want?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You heard her, mi amor.” 

You did, and while Steve was eating you out, he heard as well, his mouth working faster on you, harder, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. He pushes a thick finger into your slick hole, then adds another after a few pumps, pushing deep, curling them, dragging them out slowly. You moan around Connie’s nipple, your fingers faltering on her clit as Steve works.

Connie’s body stiffens under your touch, her mouth falling open as a whine tears through her. You can hear Javi whispering to her, can feel her body responding to his filthy words, his lips right up against her ear.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m coming!” Javi covers her mouth with his, swallowing her shouts.

Her noises push you closer and closer to your own orgasm. You remove your hand from her clit and lay back on the bed as she bucks beside you. Your fingers work through Steve’s hair as you pull him closer, rubbing your pussy against his face. 

“Oh God, Steve, fuck,” whimpering, you screw your eyes shut.

“Nuh-uh baby, eyes on me.” His fingers and mouth slow down, and you know if you don’t look, he’ll stop. You pry your eyes open and push up on your elbows, looking down at his smiling face as the pressure builds inside you.

“Good girl, just like that.” He lowers his mouth once more, sucking your clit between his lips and flicking his tongue against it. Your hips buck with each swipe, perfectly timed to match the drag of his fingers.

Nails digging into your own palms, you keep your eyes on his, and it isn’t long until the pressure that was building low in your belly boils over and you come, walls squeezing his fingers, Steve’s name tumbling repeatedly from your mouth until Connie’s lips crash on yours. Her hand gropes at your chest as your body shakes with aftershocks, Steve’s hand and mouth slowly working you through it.

Steve finally removes himself from your body, pressing kisses to your thighs before sitting up. Connie sighs happily against your lips before laying her head down on the pillow next to you, her hand resting on your chest, her other hand grabbing onto yours before the both of you dissolve into a fit of giggles and soft touches.

“We definitely should’ve done this sooner,” you whisper to her, folding your hands over hers.

“Well, we’re doing it now. Better late than never, you know?” 

Then she’s pulled away from you with a laugh and the bed bounces as Javi and Steve move almost as one, condoms in hand, moving between the other wifes legs.

You watch Steve’s face, his blown out eyes traveling up your body. He smiles when he gets to your face, bending low until his lips meet yours, tongue pushing into your mouth, dancing around yours. You cup the back of his head, fingers combing through his hair, your other hand clutching at his back as your legs wrap around his waist.

He pulls back and trails kisses down your jaw, your neck, slowly sitting up. You look up at his flushed face, his hair plastered to his forehead, eyes blown wide. You squeeze him with your thighs and moan. “Fuck me, Steve.” 

From the movement beside you, you know that Connie and Javi have already started fucking, and god it made you so wet thinking about Javi fucking her. But right now your sights are locked onto Steve as he rips open the condom and slides it on, as he rubs his cock through your folds and then lines up at your entrance.

“This what you want, baby?” 

You whimper and nod as you grab onto the backs of your thighs to hold yourself open for him. He moans ‘fuck’ and slowly pushes into you.

You watch his face as his cock fills you up, your pussy stretching to accommodate him; scooting himself closer to you on his knees.

“Oh- fuck.” He bottoms out and you stretch your legs to rest on his shoulders, grabbing onto the back of his head and pulling him down for a kiss. 

“God, you’re so deep,” you whisper to him between kisses.

Steve moves slowly, dragging his cock out and snapping back into you with a grunt. “Feel so fucking good baby, so tight.”

“Faster, please.” Whining, you nip at his jaw, pulling him closer to you.

“Mmm, I don’t think so. Gonna make this last, baby. Wanna feel this tight little pussy around me for as long as I can.”

He feels so good, so big, so deep inside you. His cock is practically kissing your cervix at this angle, gently brushing up against your g-spot with each stroke. “God, fuck, Steve.” 

Clinging to his shoulders, practically bent in half, you hold onto him, pressure building slowly in your belly.

The bed bounces and Connie’s hair falls against your shoulders. You and Steve look over to see that she’s now face down on the bed, Javi pounding into her as he grips her hips, the bed muffling her sounds but Javi’s grunts and growls filling the room.

He sees you watching and smiles. “You like watching me fuck your friend cariño? And look at you, getting fucked by another man. How’s he feel, mi amor?”

You look back to Steve, cup his face with your hands and look into his eyes. “He feels wonderful, thank you.”

Steve kisses your hand and then looks over to Connie, grabs her ass and squeezes. “How are you, baby?”

“God, fuck, harder Javi, harder, harder, please.”

Javi smirks at Steve. “I think she’s doing good amigo. She’s gonna sleep so good tonight, you’re gonna be on feeding duty.”

You look from Javi and Connie, to Steve who was now sitting up, not moving, just watching his wife get fucked, like he forgot his dick was in you. You let your legs fall from his shoulders and sit up on your elbows, that drags Steve’s eyes back to you.

“Sorry.” He grins and reaches for your legs.

“Nuh-uh.” You wrap yourself around his waist. “Switch places with me.”

He leans down, wraps his arms around you, and switches places with you quickly, staying inside you, and lays down. Adjusting yourself, you grind against him to give your clit some friction, sighing happily as you move. His hands fall down to your hips, slowly moving you back and forth. Hands on his chest, you brace yourself and start moving faster. Javi and Connie shake the bed, Connie’s moans flowing through you, straight to your core. Hearing your partner has always made you come faster, but listening to your husband pleasure another?

“Ah fuck,” Steve moans, reaches up to grope your breast. “Come on baby, come on.”

You smile, lean down and press a kiss to his chest. “What happened to taking it slow?”

He wraps his strong arms around you and holds you down, sweaty chest against sweaty chest, his hips thrusting against you. He mashes his lips against your head. “Mmmm, feel too good.” 

Tilting your head up, you press kisses to his chin and neck. His cock pounds into you, pounding all thoughts out of your head except how good he feels. Burying your face in his chest, you hold on, whimpering; Connie’s cries of ecstasy mingle with Javi’s grunts, with Steve’s huffs as he fucks you.

“Ooohhh, oh fuck Steve,” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel it start to crest.

“I know baby, come on.” Steve growls at you, his fingers digging into your hips. A few more thrusts and then euphoria washes over you. You walls squeeze his cock as you come wordlessly, mouth open. 

“Fuck. There you are, atta girl. Fuck, you’re so…ughhhmmm” You feel him pulsing inside you, his hips slowing, and then stopping. “Fuck.” He starts petting and kissing at your head, as you lay on him, rising and falling with his heavy pants. You open your eyes to see Connie laying next to you, her face turned to you with a smile.

Javi comes into view, pressing a kiss to Connie’s head, then leaning over and placing one on yours, then, to your surprise, a quick one to Steve’s shoulder. “You okay baby?” You nod.

“Okay, I’ll get the washcloths to clean up.” A soft, reassuring hand to your back, and then he’s off to the bathroom.

You reach out to push the hair out of Connie’s face, tucking it behind her ear. “You okay?”

She laughs and scoots closer to you and Steve. “Fantastic. When can we do this again?”

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

friends with benefits (bucky barnes x fem!reader college au)

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲

in which the reader gets with bucky barnes, resident fuckboy on campus, in an attempt to help her best friend’s love life.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

❁ y/n

❁ james 'bucky' barnes

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

❁ natasha romanoff

❁ steve rogers

❁ sam wilson

❁ peter parker

❁ m.j. watson

and more!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

❁ follows the theme half enemies to lovers, cuz bucky’s a big fan of the reader, but not vice versa. it can also be argued that bucky’s a bit inherently misogynistic, but it’s not expanded on or a purposeful theme at all. if that makes you uncomfortable, maybe check out something else on the blog.

❁ set in an alternate universe from the mcu, a college setting, though subtle references to the movies and characters will be there throughout. all characters are above 18, obviously.

❁ shitload of smut!! like every other chapter (and sometimes every chapter) will be smut so if you are under 18, this story is not for you and you can, once again, find something else on the blog.

❁ as of 14.12.22, this series is incomplete

❁ p.m./comment to be added to a taglist.

❁ enjoy!

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

spotify

youtube

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

↳ i: the prologue - ♞

in which the reader hates those guys

↳ I: lonely nights - ♞

in which the reader has to change her tune with barnes

↳ II: mission - matchmakers - ♞

in which the reader meets a familiar face at brunch

↳ III: pretend - ♞

in which the reader and nat go to steve and bucky's party

↳ IV: slow down - ♞/♝

in which the reader has fucking great sex with bucky barnes

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕀: 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 - (variants | softdark!miguel o'hara x reader)

complete masterlist | dark miguel o'hara masterlist

words || 𝟙.𝟠𝕜

series masterlist || variants

summary || in which the miguel feels like he deserves something better

a/n || starting a writing schedule. let's see how long i stick to it.

➵ part of a series; check the masterlist ^!

➵ ask if you wanna be added to a taglist

➵ heed the warnings in said masterlist, this series is 18+, and inherently dark

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || angst/dark content/slight blood

ping!

miguel looked up from his food. lyla had gone off for her ... beauty sleep, or whatever the hell she called it, so he was greeted with the unfamiliar sound of a notification. usually, they would filter through her, and she'd disclose the information to him with her chattery intonation.

his eyes were a bit red. it was another late night in his apartment - well, barely an apartment. the whole thing was practically an office, he didn't even have a bed. just a couch, that he'd sleep on the one day out of the week he didn't pass out on his office chair.

he looks up at the notification.

earth-trn1042.

he hadn't heard of it before - it was one of those him and lyla had yet to visit and accumulate data on. this might be his chance.

he looked around for his suit. dammit. he'd told layla to start running the new suit prototypes, one that would cling to his body like a second skin. whatever.

he looks around the cramped, cold apartment. how sad. how lonely. he sometimes thought about what his alchemax colleagues did in their time off. with their pretty wives, their well-mannered kids. and then him. doing something... so important, but so hard. whatever.

he fits on the suit, and looks to his watch, the only thing seemingly going right for him. he looks back at the notification, checking the name before he inputted it into his watch.

earth-trn1042. here he comes.

the anomaly was shockingly primitive, considering it had managed to figure out interdimensional travel. it was a simple fix. miguel clung to the alleys of this new york - similar enough to his own but... warmer - as he caught his breath after neutralizing the threat.

there's a noise - what is that?

a grunt, a shout, a... gun shot?!

miguel sneaks through the alleyways, coming upon the scene.

"oh, what the hell..." he murmurs to himself, seeing the mugger run away down the alley. it's too late to chase after him, and the mugger's victim is already on the ground.

miguel crouches to determine if the situation was salvagable. the fingers he pressed over the victim's neck came back coated in blood and - as he believed, cynically - his pulse was nonexistent. his lips purse. what a shame. he shakes his head, exhaling deeply, as he looks up at the man's face.

his blood runs cold.

jolting back, he forgets to breathe for a moment, and when he remembers to, it comes in a sharp gasp.

it's... him. eyes glassy, cold, dead, looking back up at him, almost feeling as though they were following his movements.

"fucking hell." he mumbles, swallowing harshly, as he steps closer again. a hand goes to his mask-covered mouth.

this had to have happened sooner or later. meeting a ... variant of his. but like this? it felt too odd, it made his stomach churn in discomfort. but it wasn't like it was him. he didn't know this guy - regardless of the similarities they likely shared. he sighed - for all intents and purposes, this man was a stranger.

but that made him curious. what was similar about the two? did he work in alchemax like he did? investigate the multiverse like he did? have a lyla, like he did?

he gritted his teeth, but the curiosity got the better of him. he looks at the man's briefcase. yup, a worker at alchemax - in fact, he'd been working there longer than even miguel had. there was a lunchbox, packed diligently and some papers - from colleagues and friends alike.

his expression soured.

this miguel wasn't lonely.

he looked to the man's wrist - no dimensional travel watch. a normal wrist watch, gold frame, smooth gears. normal - and quite exactly the opposite of miguel.

his eyes caught onto a locket on the man's neck. he pulls it into his palm, shockingly careful with the delicate silver chain. he clicks it open, and he's sure the most beautiful woman he's ever seen pictured inside, along with an adorable young girl. they've got the brightest smiles, and she's cradling the girl.

he can't tear his eyes off it, an anger bubbling in his chest. this... this miguel - weak enough to die to a fucking petty thief - didn't deserve this beautiful wife, this adorable daughter. he didn't deserve more than the strong, smart, capable man that he, the real miguel, was.

there's a strange tug at his heart. and he feels his morality, his sympathy, and his empathy to the man in front of him wane. taking the locket, he grips it a little tighter in his broad palm.

he deserves it.

he's a good man.

he didn't need to be lonely.

slowly, deliberately, he clasps the locket around his neck.

her evening had been packed. since picking up gabriella, she'd shuffled around the kitchen cooking dinner, mopped the floors, called miguel, served gabriella dinner, tucked her into bed, called miguel, washed the dishes from dinner, cleaned the kitchen counter-tops, and called miguel.

she bit her nail anxiously.

this wasn't like him at all - staying late at work was a recurring trait of his, but he always picked up his phone when she called. her fingers nervously dance over her contacts, trying to call him once more.

nothing happens, and the phone rings out, until she hears his voicemail.

she rubs her cheeks fervently, feeling a deep sense of unsettlement wash over her, and she decides to take a shower to calm herself down. the warm water always seems to melt her worries away. sighing softly as the steam builds, she listens to the playlist of soothing songs she'd put on to bask in familiarity.

humming to herself, and attempting to keep all her senses engaged so she didn't have to think, she didn't hear the front door open.

miguel walks into the unfamiliar house, looking around. it's... homely. decorations, throw pillows, pictures hung on the walls. of the family, beaming. he inhales the scent of lemon disinfecting cleaner - as opposed to the one he used at home, full of chemicals, and with just as rancid of a smell.

he walks up the stairs to the bedrooms slowly. he passes ... what he must assume to be the daughter's room. it's got decorations on the front, little stars and hearts littered around fancy calligraphy of her name. gabriella.

the light's on in the next bedroom. following it, miguel steps into a room with a king bed, large closet. he looks down at his spidersuit, turning to the closet to change into a pair of the man's slacks and a white button-up.

there's humming and music overshadowing the sound of dripping water. someone's in the shower.

then, the water stops.

she steps out of the shower, oblivious to the man in her and her husband's room, beginning to dry herself off. still humming to herself, she doesn't notice miguel until she glances up to look at the mirror, which happens to catch him from his position just outside the bathroom door. watching her.

she squeak in shock, whipping around, and her heart rate returns to normal when she sees who it is. miguel! he's here! very sullen, and tired-looking, but there.

"miguel!" she beams, "oh my god, you've not... returned my calls, i got worried..." she murmurs, sighing in relief. his face remains stoic.

"i... lost my phone." he mutters, and she hums, starting to place lotion on herself, so relieved he's here, she's not giving his impassive demeanor much attention.

she doesn't notice his lingering, memorizing gaze along her body after she places her towel to dry. "can you do my back?" she asks casually, handing him the lotion and turning away from him. he hesitates, and she smiles, "everything okay?"

he snaps out of it, and she hears the squirt of the lotion out of the bottle, as he smears it over her back, his touch lasting longer than necessary, but that's usual.

"i'm fine." he mumbles, before pausing, "how's the... our daughter?" she knows his phrasing is weird. he must be very tired.

"gabi? she's fine, my love. she's sleeping, she had a great day at school." she begins to list off about gabriella's day, starting to slip her pajamas on, "and how about you? how was your day?" she finally turns to look up at him. after putting on her shirt, her hands go to cradle his cheeks, thumbing his seemingly more prominent eyebags. his nose is sharper, hair shorter.

"did you get a haircut?" she giggles, and he doesn't respond right away.

"yeah." he finally forces out, and she sighs, taking it at face value. his stubble is gone too. he must have gotten it shaved. she pouts.

"grow it out again, it looked good." his lips seem to quirk in a smile, and she ghosts her thumb over them. after a moment, she goes on her toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. it's meant to be chaste, but he chases her touch, pulling her back in for a longer, hungrier kiss. laughing, she gently presses against his chest before he can go too far, "it's been a long day for you, baby. let's go to bed." she whispers.

he hesitates for a long moment - deeply reluctant - as he stares intensely into her eyes. finally seceding, he moves out of the way so that she can step into the bedroom. she helps him out of his shirt, grabbing a pair of sweats for him as he peels off the slacks he'd just... essentially stolen.

as she lets him change, she snuggles into the covers, scrolling on her phone. he soon joins her, and she puts her phone away, rolling to hug his warm torso as he lays next to her. she runs a finger lazily over his bare chest, groaning.

"you got rid of your chest hair, too? i didn't even know barbers did that..." she sighs, "will you consult me before you do things like this?" she grumbles, and she feels the low rumble of a laugh in his chest.

"alright." he murmurs. he says her name once, and he says it slowly, like he's sounding it out.

"how sleepy are you?" she teases, but that doesn't deter him as he repeats her name a few times, "you're being weird." she murmurs into his chest affectionately.

"you've got a pretty name." he finally says.

"took you this long to figure it out?" but it makes her heart flutter, even the small compliments she receives from her husband always elating her.

after a moment, she starts listing off what they need to do the next day, and he just stares at her, thumbing the locket. suddenly, he pulls her into a kiss to see how she'll react. she's surprised, but kisses him back.

she figures he's needy, but she forces him to sleep.

"i love you," he hesitates

"i love you too, mi amor."

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕡𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕪 - dark!basil stitt x dark!reader

complete masterlist

words || 𝟛.𝟟𝕜

summary || in which the reader is a manipulative bitch - and basil snaps because of it

a/n || this is really, really dark lowkey eek!! also i don't know if this is too late (it's still 2023 where i am) but this is my entry for @romana-after-dark's dead dove december event! if you're into dark content, they're an s-tier pedro and oscar writer!

➵ warnings for specific content before the divider

➵ i never watched lightningface so if he's ooc excuse me, also, reader is very manipulative and lowkey a bad person too!!

➵ not proofread

➵ comment/message if you'd have a request

warnings || smut/dark (dddne)

➵ unwanted creampie and sex

➵ unprotected sex and cunnilingus

➵ spanking and slapping

➵ manipulation

➵ death threats and some pain play-ish stuff

➵ degradation/name calling

“tell me about it, right?” she giggles into the phone, feet propped up as she lays back on her couch, hearing some tinkering in the kitchen, “yeah, sorry about that, jas, that’s just - i’m getting my sink fixed right now.”

in the bathroom, basil hears that, and smiles a little to himself. she sounded appreciative, right? he’s helping make her life easier, which is what matters.

after a few more minutes, he’s done, and he sits back, sighing in relief. he sits back up, coming out and seeing her on the couch. god, is she gorgeous. her body stretches out, allowing a little glimmer of skin as her shirt rides up. she’s got a big grin on her face, talking to her friend, and she wants to just go over and press a sweet kiss to her lips.

“yeah, he was mental, i swear i’m still sore!” she jokes to her friend, and his face falls. ‘he’? who is ‘he’? basil swallows. it must just be a PT or something. yeah, that was it. after managing to convince himself, his smile returns. maybe she’d like a massage?

approaching her with that grin on his face, she looks up at him with an expectant raise of her brow, “just a second, jas.” she takes the phone away from her ear.

“done?” she points to her bathroom.

“yep!” he responds excitably, and she hums - not in appreciation, but in expectancy.

“good. thanks.” but it’s out of habit, “bye, basil” she forces a smile, shooing him off.

to him, it’s a wave, “yeah, see you! wanna - um, i was wondering if you maybe wanted me to order some food for you tonight? maybe we could eat together?” he suggests, and she has to resist a roll of her eyes.

“we’ll see.” she curtly dismisses him, and he nods, leaving and closing the door of her house, returning to his own just across the hall. returning to her phone call, she scoffs, “god, did you hear that?” her voice lowers - the walls are thin, “yeah, jas, he’s that neighbor i told you about. total loser, but he does whatever i want.” she giggles, “he thinks i’m gonna fuck him. whatever, that’s not my problem. can you imagine, he buys me food, he fixes my shit, i get him to vacuum sometimes. like my own little manservant.”

like her little dog.

basil was painfully in love with his neighbor. she was just so sweet, she paid him attention, and sometimes - when she was a little drunk or was sleepy, she’d lay against him, cuddling. the feeling of her thighs against his own, her breath on her chest, or the way her fingers teasingly toyed with the hem of his shirt - right above his cock.

maybe he didn’t have only holy intentions - yeah, maybe he did want to fuck her - but he’d never be greedy for more than what she gave him, not wanting to ruin their relationship.

and it paid off, that one night she had been wine drunk, and had invited him over, asking for only the cheap gift of thai food in return for her priceless company. as they sat back on her couch, watching tv as she ate and drank, there was a point where her hand had wandered - bored by the movie. her head laid on his chest, a leg hooked around his own, especially touchy because it was a cold night - and he was warm. as basil breathed in the smell of her perfume, he could imagine them to be dating or - if he could imagine a small glimmer on her finger - married. he held her around the waist softly, and she hadn’t yet pulled away, much to his joy.

her hand slowly trails over his chest and then his biceps, before sitting up a little, and pulling his head down to his. her lips find his, as she breathes into his mouth. it’s a lazy kiss, purely driven by the alcohol, and her need for warmth and contact.

his eyes widen in shock, but he wouldn’t let this opportunity go to waste, pulling her closer and - while he let her lead the kiss - his fingers go to her hair, pulling it out of her face to kiss her better. she whimpers softly, arms wrapping around his neck, before finally pulling away. she hums in satisfaction, burying her face in his neck.

“goodnight.” she mumbles, promptly falling asleep on top of him. his head reels, but he’s on cloud 9.

“goodnight.” he kisses the top of her head, laying back as he also lets himself fall asleep.

they never spoke about it again.

she didn’t let herself get drunk with him anymore, and he cursed himself as to how to solve the issue. nonetheless, they still spent time together, and he would still do anything for her, but things were different.

but her mind was working differently. annoyingly, that kiss with basil was getting her disgustingly hot and bothered. this wasn’t the plan: she wasn’t planning to ever actually fuck him, lest she lose all the leverage she had been building by teasing him. that’s why she’d been so strict in not touching him for the next few weeks: reducing her temptation.

but it was getting too much. she spent far too much time with her hands between her thighs, thinking of him (but nothing close to how much he’d do the same for her), and she needed an out. but, she also had to make sure basil wouldn’t become confident, and stay out of line.

she had an idea.

she called him over that night. an ordinary thing to occur, but, when he joins her shortly after, his mouth falls open.

she’s in this gorgeous, deeply hued camisole that just does down to her hips, and as his eyes travel lower, the lacy panties she wears makes his breath catch. she has to bite her lip to stop the smirk that threatens to grace it.

“basil.” she murmurs her name, and he snaps out of it, finally looking up at her.

“what… are you doing?” he thickly swallows.

“you don’t like it?” she teases, and he immediately shakes his head fervently.

“no - no - you… you look…” he doesn’t know how to describe it, “beautiful.” perhaps a cliche - but he doesn’t use it in the standard way. she exactly embodies the word. for once, a genuine smile pulls at her lips. it makes her heart warm, and she almost feels bad for what she’s about to do.

almost.

she gestures him forward, and he stumbles due to the speed at which he tries to reach her. finally, once he does, she points to the couch.

“sit.” she orders, and he agrees, getting on the couch, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “you’re not very subtle, basil.” she murmurs, slowly sitting on his lap. his cheeks burn.

“s-sorry?”

“you know how hard it is when you wanna hang out with your good friend, and you know all he’s thinking about is fucking you?” her voice is vicious, and he swallows thickly.

“i’m sorry.” he whispers, looking into her eyes, an evident begging in them. he’s pleading that she’ll forgive him. her fingers go to gently weave through his hair.

“it’s hard… you know?” she says softly, playing the victim to a tee, “i thought that… maybe that’s the only thing you see when you look at me.” she admits - but it’s a complete lie.

“never, oh - oh my god.” the thought makes basil sick. she - she thinks he sees her as an object?! “i swear, i see you as so much more than that - yes, you’re fucking gorgeous, but you’re so much more than just your body!” he assures, but she pretends to already be hurt.

“you’re just saying that, you know i’ll give myself up to you with these sweet words and-” he says her name softly.

“don’t think like that, please, don’t think like that.” he begs, taking her hands, “how - how can i show you how much you mean to me. please, tell me, and i’ll do it.” he’s holding her hands so tenderly, he wants to lavish her in ways she’s never even thought of.

she goes quiet, and he’s dead terrified he’s lost her.

“i want you to forget any insecurity you may ever have, i want to make sure you never lift a finger, i want you to never yearn and to only be satisfied.” his voice is thin - needy. “i want to worship you.”

that’s what she needs to hear.

“you do?” she murmurs.

“i’m begging you to let me show you how much you mean to me.” there it is. she smirks.

“can i… suggest something?” she asks - in faux timidness.

“anything.” he assures her.

“maybe… so i feel the most… assured… if we have sex, can i take charge?” he blinks. it’s not much different than their current relationship, so he immediately agrees.

“of course, of course. that’s totally fine.” he assures, and she smiles.

“alright, good - that’s good. thank you, basil!” she chirps, and his heart warms.

“yeah, of course.”

but that’s when the switch occurs.

“get off the couch.” she orders, and he blinks, a little shocked by her flip from a shy tone to a commanding one, but he complies, standing up.

she takes his place, sitting on the couch, before looking at him expectantly, “on your knees, c’mon.” his cheeks heat, as his brow furrows curiously, falling to his knees. “you said you wanna worship me, right?” she smirks, when he nods, “take off my socks.” she orders, the woolly socks that he knew she wore as she was always cold felt itchy against his fingers, as he pulls them off. she hums happily, and raises a brow when he presses a kiss to each sole, “fuck, i knew you were freaky.”she giggles, letting him kiss her ankles, “how much have you thought about this?” a small whimper escapes his throat.

“a-ages.” he admits, and she smiles.

“okay, stop.” she commands, and he stops his mouthing of her feet, “come closer.” he places her calves over her shoulders, shuffling closer to her - and, as much as he tried to be respectable about it, his eyes fell onto the small breadth of her covered by her underwear. she held his forehead - almost brutishly - to deter him, “behave. did i say you could look at her?” she scolds him, and he bites his lip.

“no, i’m sorry.” smiling, she lets go of his head.

“what should i do with you now?” she whispers, and he looks at her thighs pleadingly.

“can i touch your thighs? can i feel you?” he begs, and she laughs.

“go on.” she assures, as she pets his hair. he really is like her little puppy.

kissing up her thighs, she inhales her scent, brain going into overload.

“oh - oh, please, let me taste you, please!” she begs, and she smirks. he was begging - just as she wanted.

“take my panties off.” she whispers, and he sighs in relief, as if a massive weight has been taken off his shoulders.

"oh - oh, thank you - thank you," he breathes out, inching closer to let his fingers hook into the sides of her underwear, pulling them past her thighs and down, off her ankles.

when she finally spreads her legs, his mouth waters as the pretty prize between them, biting his lip.

"can i taste you?" he wants to confirm it. his body's buzzing, he needs her so bad.

"how bad do you want it?" she goads, and he bites her tongue.

"i don't think i can explain it." he admits, and her cheeks warm. what a compliment.

"yes, you can taste me." lowering his head slowly to her cunt, he spreads her legs, holding onto her thighs that are draped over his shoulders tightly. goosebumps erupt over her flesh at the sensation of his breath on her skin.

"you're wet?" he asks excitedly, unbelieving that he can coax this reaction from her.

"I'm not exactly feeling patient, basil." she warns, and he swallows.

"yeah, okay." he licks up the length of her cunt, and her breath hitches, catching in her throat as she puts her hand over her mouth, gently biting a knuckle to disguise her moan. motivated by the action, he spreads her wider, licking experimentally and quickly, sucking softly and harshly, making sure to keep trying different things until one finally breaks her dam of willpower, and her back arches as she loudly moans into the otherwise empty apartment.

"oh my god-" she cries out, panting as her hand clutches his hair, pulling him closer into her weeping cunt, desperate for his continued ministrations, "use your fingers." she gasps out, and he immediately obliges, bringing a finger to her hole as he sucks at her clit. he slowly pushes it into her, and - per more whimpered instructions from her - he curls his finger inside her, making her thighs squeeze around his head,

"just like that, keep doing just that." she assures, looking at him with the closest thing to love that she feels for him - desperation and satisfaction, because good lord, is she close. but it can't end like this. she needs to make this last longer.

just as she feels herself on the precipice of her climax, she pulls his head away from her cunt - to both her and his chagrin.

"why?" he whines, simultaneously pulling out his fingers, as she struggles to catch her breath. using him to help herself up, she stands, looking down at him.

"get on the couch." she pants, and he does as he asks, "take your shirt off," the instruction continues, and his deft fingers - one still drenched in her slick - quickly unbutton the shirt, pulling it off his broad frame. she bites her lip, bending so that her fingers can reach his fly and jean button, swiftly undoing them.

"i'm gonna fuck you. and you're just gonna take whatever i give to you, understood?" he nods silently as he looks up at her, and she hums in satisfaction and she pulls down his trousers. seeing his eyes all blown out is a crazy power trip, and it all becomes better as she straddles him. palming his hard cock through his boxers, she notices the way he twitches and how his moans gargle in his throat, all while he desperately bucks until her hips. "keep your hands behind your back." she instructs, and he nods, a whimper bubbling up to his tongue. after his hands are securely behind his back, she sighs happily. truly, she could do anything to him now, and he'd just take it. she wanted to know how much he could handle.

she started by fishing out his - inexplicably impressive cock. it was almost comical - how little sex appeal he oozed while hiding this weapon away from the rest of the world.

then, she simply ghosted her fingers over his tip, owning to a few stuttered bucks of his hips. she returned each of those with a scolding smack on any skin she could find - usually, his chest.

she slowly raised to her knees, lining him up with her entrance as she looks down at him, "don't move without permission." she whispers, and a strangled groan releases from him, making her laugh. finally, though, when he agrees, she sinks down on him, moaning out behind her hand as he does the same - though without the muffle and rather unashamedly.

she doesn’t move for a moment, and he waits.

another moment, and he waits.

another, and he’s done. he starts thrusting up, wanting the both of them to chase their pleasure, and her eyes widen, as she slaps his cheek. stunned, his movements immediately stop.

he dared to go against her word?

she hated that he undermined the power she held over him. pulling at his hair, her eyes blow out in anger.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” she hisses, and he winces.

“i’m sorry-” he tries, but she slaps him again.

“you think we’re equals? you can just pull that shit?” he wonders where all this anger is coming from, almost fearful. she doesn’t want to admit that her rage stems from the fact that she liked the sensation of his thrusts - enough to almost just… let him continue, even against her orders. she can’t lose that power she has on him, “you wanna know how little you really fucking matter?” she growls, grabbing her phone, and thrusting it in his face.

still disoriented, he swallows as he looks at what she’s showing him - a chain of texts. about him. they’re from her, to her friends, all mocking and making fun of him.

his heart, quite literally, shatters. he had thought this entire time, that - though they may be little more than friends - she at least liked his company, liked hanging out with him, appreciated him. but now, to read her stating how annoying and clingy he is, how she hated hanging out with him, but accepted it whenever he came with some gift or food, how she had used him, a heartbreak made his blood pump harshly in his ears. but when he glances at her smug smile behind the phone, it’s not just heartbreak. it’s rage.

“is this real?” he whispers, voice so low she can barely hear him.

“aww, poor puppy, thought i was - what? in love with you?” she mocks, knowing he won’t do a thing in retaliation.

that’s where she’s wrong.

trembling in rage, he grabs her phone, throwing it ferociously onto the floor, breaking it immediately. her eyes widen in shock, but before she can shout at him, his hands wrap around her throat, choking her with such a rage - she’s worried he might break her windpipe.

she claws at his hands, as he pulls her off of him, and slams her, face first, into the couch. her eyes well as she feels her nose smash into it, pained to hell as she cries out, trying to clutch it, but it’s of no help, as he’s already sinking back into her tight, wet, and suddenly rejecting cunt. but his pulling cock gets past the resistance bottoming out with a gurgled sigh of satisfaction. his hands go back to her throat, with a softer hold, as he wants to feel her pulse under his fingers. tearfully, she looks back at him in terror.

“basil, what are you-” he slaps her ass so hard, she wonders if his palm took her flesh with it. crying out, she sobs, giving up entirely, as she looks away, still clutching her nose.

“shut the fuck up, bitch.” he hisses harshly, voice and cadence not only deadly - but lethal, as his fingers flex experimentally on her throat. pulling her up so her back is pressed against his chest, and his other hand palms her tits, something he’d been wishing to do so long. but in his fantasies - he’s delicate, not so much anymore, as he roughly tweaks and pinches and grips her nipples.

then again, she’s a different woman than what he’d imagined as well.

this time, he’s not slow in his thrusts, he’s harsh and mean, thrusting in and out of her cunt to the sweet melody of her cries and sobs, muffled by the hand clutching her now bleeding nose. his moans are loud and gruff in her ear, causing an overlord of her senses, and she’s terrified.

“i should fucking kill you.” he hisses, and she whimpers, sobbing harder, “but you’re too good - of - a - fuck!” he punctuates every word with a thrust, but his voice sounds almost sweet and reassuring - only able to be distinguished as a facade due to the undertone of a growl behind every word.

“i’m sorry, please-” she begs, but he slaps her ass again, thrusting deeper, as he hits her cervix with each thrust, making her cry out in pain.

“did i say you could speak?” he hisses. she shakes her head, terrified, and shutting up. he’s getting close. unfortunately, she is too, “calling me a fucking puppy, saying you’re my fucking master - whose cunt’s the one squeezing my cock, huh? who’s the one begging - for - my - mercy?” he growls, once again, thrusting to each word, and she cums around him - a strange mix of the pain on her nose and ass, her restricted ability to breathe, and his sharp, filling thrusts are the perfect mix for her to reach climax, jolting and twitching as her cunt grips his cock, and her core tightens.

he holds her up even as she slumps in exhaustion, pulling her back by her hair to see her face as he tells her,

“i’m gonna cum in you.” he whispers, kissing her cheek tenderly. her eyes widen.

“no - no, please don’t - please, i’m not on birth control-” she begs, but he bites her earlobe to quieten her.

“shut the fuck up. you’re gonna be my cumdump. say that you understand.” he whispers, and she swallows.

“i - wait, please-” he slaps her again, and she squeaks, “yes, yes - i understand! i’ll be your cumdump!” he growls in satisfaction, finally releasing her and letting her fall forward onto the couch, as he grips her hips pulling her ass to him as he cums inside her, moaning loudly in relief.

there’s a few beats of silence, and afterwards, he looks down at her with a snarl. he’s disgusted, and pulls away - not by his actions, but that he hadn’t lived up to his expectations. she was an evil, and he was a vigilante. that - the cum dripping down her thighs, her perhaps broken nose, her whimpers and cries - that was revenge. it was necessary.

after cleaning up and getting ready, he looks back at her. she’s sitting up, curled into herself as she was turned away, crying into her palms.

she looked like a puppy - scolded for bad behaviors. and in many ways, she was.

he sighs in satisfaction.

it was necessary.

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕖'𝕤 - dark!raider!joel miller x reader

complete masterlist

words || 𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader wants a valentine's gift, but Joel's not exactly her boyfriend

a/n || i'm so shocked i haven't written dark!joel before?? i love him, your honor. also, for the raider!joel concept, though overall popular for fanfic, i was personally super inspired by @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark. they both have fantastic raider!joel content, please check them out!!

➵ warnings for specific content before the divider, please heed them, this may be triggering content!

➵ technically ooc to joel in the show, but his dark past is hinted at so yeah

➵ not proofread

➵ comment/message if you'd have a request

warnings || smut/dark (dddne)

➵ !! reader is held captive and is experiencing stockholm syndrome. other women to which the same this is occurring are mentioned !!

➵ dubcon sex

➵ unprotected sex

➵ manhandling

➵ controlling dynamics

➵ slight degradation

“you have to do something for her.”

joel wonders how, as his younger brother, tommy always seemed to be nagging him, instead of the other way around. his face pinches in a scowl.

"the fuck i look like? cupid?" he growls back at his brother, rifle sagging on one of his shoulders, forcing him to readjust. tommy rolls his eyes.

"ya even have john and michael doin' somethin' special for their girls." he reminds joel how the other men in the group, with their own souvenirs, at least showed their consideration of the humanity of these girls on valentine's.

"she probably don't even know." joel grumbles, and tommy snorts.

"oh, she knows what valentine's is. the other girls told her. said she'd have liked some clothes."

"the fuck she need clothes for, ya sayin' i can't dress my girl?" joel, ever defensive, hates being talked down to by his little brother.

he hates more the fact that she seems to tell tommy so much more about herself than she does joel.

"y'can dress her, joel." tommy sighs. "but it won't hurt if she wears somethin' other than yer crusty flannels once in a while."

joel rolls his eyes, but he, luckily, doesn't have to entertain the rest of the conversation. a deer rustles the branches of a tree in the distance. joel's a better shot than his brother, always has been. but he's also less agile. as he's about to shoot, his foot crunches on a stick.

the shot still hits the deer's back, but it's a far cry from the headshot he was aiming for. he swears under his breath, but him and tommy are both already stalking the wounded prey, the same glow of determination and predation in their eyes.

they were still family, after all.

she used to never be able to sit still. pre-apocalypse, that meant she was always either fiddling with something, reading a book, or talking but... in the past few years, it meant a lot more silent stimulation. it was okay, she got by counting petals of flowers to herself or tracing the veins of leaves with her fingers to keep her mind occupied.

but the one thing she'd never given up was company. she'd had family, or friends, in every walk of this horrible turn of events, until 6 months ago.

when she was snatched away from her cruel life by an even crueler man. stripping her of autonomy and privacy were mild in comparison to her loss of company. the only other people in the house leered or jeered in her presence.

she was usually locked away from them anyways. in a tall tower she couldn't even use her hair to escape from; kept captive for the satisfaction and pleasure of a bad, bad man.

that's what made her head spin, though. because he wasn't always. yes, he was always sullen, and scowling, rough around the edges and calloused in his touch. but he wasn't always bad.

he'd fixed the bathtub of the house they were squatting in so she could revel in warmth if he wasn't around.

he risked his life for a new pack of cards and even a few books so she could keep her occupied.

and he would sometimes press gentle kisses to her forehead when he slept beside her, unbeknownst to himself, and without realizing the effect he had on her.

when the other men had started getting antsy about her being the only girl around (with her obvious off-limits status), joel relented and let them bring back their own. it was to avoid mutiny and maintain control, sure, but... it gave her company, too. and that was important to her.

the women would confide in her. first, of their fears and then, of their growing affections for their own men. it made her happy, vindicated.

she wasn't alone in her stockholm syndrome.

she's looking at the flowers that michael got for jessica. it's almost comical, with that kinda man and their kinda relationship. but jess liked it - really liked it - and that's all that mattered. john had promised anna something too, which she was talking about as the front door opened.

a dead deer was carried in by the miller brothers, and then some of the other men helped bring it out back to the shed, where they'd scavenge enough to feed the group for the week. as she always does, she approaches and stands in front of joel, greeting him in a low voice. he regards her with a once over, nodding, before his head tilts incrementally up, signalling to his bedroom.

she nods shyly, retreating to the room on the upper floor as joel delegates some tasks, before coming up to join her. she's looking out the window - barred, 'for her protection'- and he finally speaks up.

"what did ya do?" he asks gruffly, referring to the events in his absence.

"played some cards." she smiles softly as she faces him, "talked to anna and jessica." that makes him grimace a little, and she's confused.

"what about?" she shrugs.

"stuff. john and michael are gettin' them things, i guess?" she says it unsurely, "they say it's for 'valentines'?" she says the word curiously, as if wondering if it was something the 4 had made up, or if it was a real celebration. his grimace worsens: he hates when tommy's right. feigning innocence, he continues,

"what's that, then?" she looks at the floor shyly.

"like... a celebration? of... relationships, partners, that sorta thing." it's vague, but it's all she knows.

"huh." joel doesn't continue it further, and he goes silent, as he looks around the room to change out of his dirty clothes.

she sits on the bed, watching him move around, and with every passing moment of silence, her worry grows. did she say something wrong? was he mad? what happened?

when he finally goes to join her, he manhandles her to face away from him. that only makes her more upset, and she feels the prickle of tears in her eyes, as she lays down, and he joins her a moment later.

laying behind her as she feels a tear roll down her cheek, he doesn't realize how upset he's made her: he'd only asked her to turn around so he could fall asleep with the scent of her hair.

she wakes up after he's already left.

she sighs, rubbing her eyes, that always ended up a little inflamed after she cried. there's a little wetness on her pillow, and she flips it so joel doesn't see.

tommy's downstairs, having saved a fruit for her breakfast. she takes it gratefully, cutting it up and fiddling with the bite-sized pieces.

there's something on her mind - tommy, he notices these things. he wished his brother would, too.

"he's getting supplies." he assures her, knowing what was agitating her. she snaps out of it.

"hmm?" she pops a piece in her mouth, sweetness exploding on her tastebuds as she bites into it, "oh. right, yeah." she realizes what he's saying, "didn't he just get some?" tommy shrugs.

"he likes to go out to the abandoned mall - it clears his head." that makes her squirm.

"is he mad?" she mumbles, and tommy pats her shoulder.

"at you? never."

it wasn't exactly true, she thought. he's gotten mad before: if she talks too much to the others, when she doesn't listen to him, or when she finds herself in danger.

tommy knows joel's not mad in those moments. he's just terrified of what could possibly happen to his girl.

after finishing her fruit, she curls up under the blanket upstairs, wanting some time to herself. humming a melody - she thinks it's one that the guys will sing in an off-key fashion when they get particularly drunk - she tries to occupy herself by counting each of the little plaster bumps in the ceiling, and then all the small flowers on the dingy wallpaper of the room.

she gets to 78 when the door swings open. jolting awake, she makes eye contact with joel, who's looking down at her form under the covers.

"somethin' happen?" his voice is less gruff than usual, and she shakes her head.

"nope. just waiting." she gives him a weak, shaky smile. he doesn't return, but he doesn't click his tongue in annoyance, either. it's a win in her books.

he's got a backpack, and it looks pretty full. she wants to ask what's inside, but she knows he'll tell her if he wants to. he sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed. she scoots over so he has space.

"let me see you." he instructs, and she sits up, crawling out of the covers. sure enough, she's wearing one of his flannels for warmth, and had slipped into a pair of his boxers instead of her otherwise nonexistent pajama shorts. he's silent for a long moment, before he brings his fingers to examine the material. goddamn, was it old, frayed almost everywhere, and the chest pocket had a hole. he sighs, finally speaking, "comfy?"

she blinks, confused, "huh?"

"'re ya comf'rtable?" he repeats, voice gruffer. she lets out a nervous exhale. was it a trick?

"ye-yes. yeah, i'm comfy." she assure, and he hums.

"heard ya want somethin' new." he finally looks her in the eyes, something he doesn't do all that often. she shuts her eyes, cheeks heating in embarrassment and worry. dammit, tommy, she thinks, knowing the younger man had told joel about her offhand comment on clothes.

"it's fine, i'm happy with this." she splutters out quickly, hoping she won't upset him. he sees right though it though.

"yeah, yeah." he scoffs, waving a dismissive hand, as he gets up. her heart clenches, wondering if he was really angry, when he reaches for the backpack, throwing it at her.

it's not an aggressive throw, and lands on the mattress beside her.

"open it." he instructs, and she swallows thickly, unsure what to expect. the zipper is a little worn, but she eases it open... only to find not only clean but colorful clothes inside. she looks up at him in confusion.

"what...?" and for the first time in a while, there's just a hint of a smirk curling at his lips.

"go try 'em on." he encourages. giddily, she beams as she gets up, taking the bag of clothes into the cropped bedroom. he slumps back on the bed, trying to will away his fatigue. it'd been a hassle to collect all the clothes - more so, to find clean one he thought she'd like - so he leans back, waiting for her to return.

she lays out the clothes on the cramped sink counter space, starting with a simple pair of slightly flared jeans, pairing it with a light blue cropped cardigan. she goes out to show him, an obvious pep in her step.

he looks up as she enters, eyes trailing up and down her body, including the way the outfit fits her curves, and the slight glimpse of midriff.

"don't you look pretty?" he drawls, and, though it almost sounds sarcastic with his hard features, a light smile plays on her lips. she tries on 4 other outfits she could make out of the 10 articles of clothing he got her, and he seems to like each one even better. sure, he'd taken the initiative to ensure all of them were a little revealing - he deserved an eyeful for his hard work, after all - but she seemed genuinely happy, and the bright smile on her face almost rivals the cleavage that she shows off in some of the outfits.

when she shows him the final outfit, he pats the space on the bed next to him, and she obliges, sitting beside him.

"happy?" he finally murmurs, pulling her closer by the hem of her pants, and she nods excitedly.

"very." she assures, softening, "thank you." she doesn't need to clarify her sincerity, as it pours out in her tone. he caresses her cheek with his calloused thumb.

"good girl. you make sure to tell the girls." she almost laughs, knowing she'd show off the gift in the same way jess and anna have been with theirs. he wanted it to be known that fucking michael and john couldn't treat a better than he could, "got one more thing f'r you." he pulls her so she's standing, procuring two more pieces of small fabric from his pockets.

she inspects them, eyes widening a little when she realizes it's lingerie. he glances back at him, and he has a brazen and unashamed glint in his eyes. she's about to make a joke that this one seems more a gift for him than for her, but refrains, obliging with a small nod of her head, and taking it to the bathroom.

she strips out of her clothes, pulling up the lace fabric. the panties are practically a thong, shaping her ass nicely, while the bra enhances and perfects the curve of her tits, a small, red bow in between the cups, matching the bow on the hem of her panties.

she looks hot, and damn, is his taste good.

going back outside, a noise escapes his throat - like a guttural growl. he signals her to turn, and she does, giving her an ample view of her ass. he grabs her by the hips as she does, and she squeaks, as he pushes her down on the bed.

"oh!" she gasps, trying to sit up, but he's on top of her in a moment, mouthing at her neck roguishly, a sloppy trail left in his wake.

her skin erupts in goosebumps, but she knows better than to touch him when he gets like this - his need for dominance forbidding it. her hands grip the covers to ground herself, as his lips trail downwards, cheekily biting the bow of her bra, and taking a nip of her skin along with it. she moans, jolting, and he slaps her thigh - but gently. he's not meaning to hurt her - and trust her, she can tell when he is.

"stay still." he hisses, finally parting from her torso to marvel at her, "good lord, gonna fuck you in all this, sweetheart." he mumbles, more to himself than anything else, as his hands cup her breasts framed in the bra, squeezing softly so as to not damage the material.

usually, he'd revel in pushing her down to choke on his cock, and, when he was feeling more generous, he'd go down on her like a ravenous man.

but he was a simple man, who had been generous enough tonight. and he wasn't putting her in a position where he can't see her in the whole get-up, so the blowjob was out too.

fuck it, he thinks, reaching for the belt of his pants, i need her.

she gets up to help him undo his pants, but he forces her back into laying down, "wanna see you." he grumbles, finally undoing his pants. already hard, he palms his cock, eyes rolling back, "fuck."

he lowers again to shift the slit of the panties to the side, exposing her arousal, swiping his fingers through her mess, making her bite her lip. he wipes it gently on her cheek - a wholesome act, with a backdrop of degradation and depravity. he presses a soft hiss to the bow on her panties, making her shiver, before rising to his full length.

"you want it?" he grunts, as he strokes his cock, adjusting so it's lined up. she whimpers, as he's prolonging both of their suffering just to highlight her need for him. pathetically, she nods, and he laughs - barking and cold. "i can't hear you."

"yes!" she gasps out, unable to hold back anymore. he smirks in satisfaction, shifting his hips forward to bottom out in one stroke.

she cries out, eyes rolling back and head lolling onto the mattress, trying desperately to adjust to the stretch. he doesn't have that same decency, animalistically beginning to move his hips.

a squeal gets caught in her throat, and she cave to her instincts, gripping the wrist of the hand he's holding her waist with, squeezing as an indication of not her pain, but her pleasure.

thankfully, the adjustment was quick, and her surprised squeaks morph into pleasured moans, as he grunts on top of her, eyes raking the way that her tits try to bounce in the confinement of the bra. unusually, he's not annoyed by her touch, and it only makes him move more aggressively, as he can tell what makes her pleasure increase - as she'll squeeze his wrist harder.

"who's making ya feel this good?" he growls, "who takes care f'ya, sweetheart?" she chokes, garbled, broken moans escaping her.

"y-you!" she manages to gasp out, "o-only you, no one else, you - you take care of - of - oh, fuck!" she squeaks, feeling the pressure of her orgasm, "gonna - can i please - please-?!" she begs nonsensically, but he understands her - of course he does. she's his girl, after all.

"cum, sweetheart." he assures through gritted teeth, "who's making you cum?"

"y-you-" she cuts herself off with a cry as she cums, body stilling and legs trembling, as he continues to thrust and she rides out the orgasm.

he follows right after her, the squeeze of her cunt around sending his body into overdrive. collapsing on the bed beside her, the two remain silent for a minute to catch their breath.

finally, he clears his throat, getting up, and pulling her up, too. "go, clean up." he instructs, voice less gruff and softer, asking her to do something for her own good as opposed to his, "then change. don't think i can do another round right now." he knows that if he sees her in the outfit for longer, he'd get hard again.

with a woozy head, she does as he says. when she changes, though, she decides against the clothes that he bought her. she loves them, of course, but their either too coarse or flashy for night-time wear.

besides, they don't provide the precise comfort of stability that the flannel and boxers she puts on again does. though she tells herself she's not sure why joel's clothes seem more comforting than the new clothes, she's lying.

she feels more comfy in them because they smell and feel like him.

he's already knocked out when she exits, sleeping on his side, having evidently left the perfect amount of space for her to curl into his side, pulling his arm over to cradle her.

she knew he would always take care of her.

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕛𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 - billy hargove x reader

complete masterlist | stranger things masterlist | billy hargrove masterlist

words || 𝟚𝕜

series masterlist || week to all hallows' eve

summary || in which billy's got the same outfit as someone else

a/n || writing daily is hard oh my god?? who woulda guessed?

➵ part of my 'week to hallows' eve' halloween countdown. check out the masterlist ^ ➵ i am not a billy apologist! he is a piece of fucking work in the show, but this is fiction and he is represented differently for the sake of fantasy.

➵ actually why have all of these been the same length idek how i do it

➵ not yet proofread

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/angst

➵ there is one incident of accidentally kissing someone w/o consent!

he looked so stupid. he glanced down at himself in his rearview, adjusting the collar of his shirt and tapping ask off of his cigarette, a puff of smoke escaping his lips and out of the open car window. the low hum of the car filled his ears, as he tried to drown out the noises of the children a couple blocks away. trick-or-treaters lined the streets, accompanied by their friends and family, and he just hoped that they could get out of here before they reached this part of the cul-de-sac.

the tapping on the window of his passenger determined that his wish had been granted, and he’s quick to unlock the door and allow her in. she looked fucking stunning, hair curled and tousled to perfection, outfit hanging snugly over her frame.

“hey, billy.” he almost misses her greeting as he’s too busy ogling her.

“hey, baby. y’look good.” he can see her blush, and she smiles sweetly, before checking the watch on her wrist.

“thanks! oh, the party’s starting pretty soon, we should get going.” he nods, complying, and driving off.

it had been a long process of convincing billy to dress up for halloween. as much as she loved him, he hated doing things he thought were unnecessary, or sappy. thus, when given the proposal of a couple’s costume, he was reluctant to give in to her hopes.

she’s prodded at him the entire month, suggesting several different pairs for them to go as, and he had - though kindly, and patiently - rejected all of them. finally, after sifting through several options, she presented him with the prospect of playing danny zuko - from one of the many rom-coms that she had put on for the two of them to watch, though that had ended up fading into the background while the indulged in other activities.

thus, they were now on their way to attend a harrington party, their outfits in perfect accentuation of each other. they step out of his shoddily parked car - not his fault, the driveway and adjacent roads were crawling with cars, and he’s quick to wrap an arm around her shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. his leather jacket hugs his torso - and he looks fucking good - but, seeing the smattering of goosebumps on her exposed shoulders, he’s quick to drape it over her

it does complete her look, and she smiles at the fact as they enter. she liked to greet the host first and foremost whenever she went to a party, but she couldn’t find steve ‘the hair’ harrington anywhere. besides, knowing her boyfriend’s tumultuous relationship with the guy, she figured it be best to just drop it.

as billy grabs them both a beer, she scours the room, and, seeing no other dannys and sandys, she breathes a sigh of relief. she’d been fretting that their costume was absolutely unoriginal, and that they’d be surrounded by doubles the entire night, but she was pleasantly surprised that that wasn’t the case.

she jumped a bit when billy snaked his arm around her middle, turning around and sighing in relief when she realized who it was. he handed her a can and, though she didn’t particularly favor drinking beer, she took a long, wincing sip. he smiles at her, looking at her fondly as she swallows the acidic flavor. it was something so small and, to most, not noteworthy, but he found himself loving every move of her very expressive face.

she was so open with how she felt, never shying away from smiling, or making her sadness heard in a way that it could be resolved, or her worry and fear. and, though it sometimes upset him, seeing her upset, he found it was infinitely better than having her hide how she felt from him.

he’d done that for far too long, and he was well aware of how damaging it had been for all of his relationships.

and, he still did it. he found himself seeing himself - in car windows, in glass door, in rearview mirrors - with a vacant gaze in his eyes, his lips pressed in a thin, unemotive line. she could still figure him out, though. she could tell when his vacant eyes had the fire of anger or upset in them, or the way his lips twitched up slightly when he would reminisce of his fonder memories. she could tell when he loved the movie she’d put on - the one he’d bemoaned as she placed it into the player - and she could also tell when all he wanted to do was pass out after a long day. she was quick to let him, tracing her fingers lightly over his clavicle, scalp and shoulders - under the guise of simply feeling touchy - and knocking him out within minutes. she could also tell that he still had no idea that she knew how well that system work.

billy didn’t think he believed in love. but, when confronted with someone who oozed love as she did, it was a little difficult. besides, of his pick of people to fall for, that gleam in her eyes definitely put her in first place - by a long margin.

he’s broken out of his thoughts by a pat on his shoulder from one of the guys on the basketball team, greeting him and inviting him to join a game a beer pong. he turns to pull her along with him, but finds her in conversation with a friend. so, instead, he simply waves at her to let her know she’s leaving, and tries to hold onto the image of her sweet smile goodbye as he’s lead away.

her friend’s had her entangled in conversation - complimenting her outfit, gushing about the movie, and fawning over how good she and billy looked together. she smiled at the praise, while equally ecstatic over their own fantastic outfits. they’d talked and talked - for a while now - as one of them had been supplying everyone cans of beer or strawberry-flavored punch. she’d been careful not to get too wasted, but she could feel the slight comfort brought by the onset of relaxing alcohol in her muscles, even building up the courage to begin dancing with one of her friends.

it’s a haze of bodies, loud music, and dumb giggles from the pair of them, and she suddenly sees the blond hair and black t-shirt of her boyfriend. it hadn’t been very long since they’d parted, but it felt like an eternity, and she’s quick to pull away from her friend and quickly make her way towards him.

she hugs him from behind, spinning him around and pressing a deep kiss on his lips, closing her eyes as she sank into his touch. just as quickly as she allowed herself to be comfortable, though, she tensed again. his lips were more chapped than usual, his aftershave smelt different than when she’d been in his car, and his hair had less volume that usual.

before she can climb off of him, he’s being pushed away from her, and she stumbles forward, into another blond with a black shirt - who smelt and felt much more like her boyfriend.

for the past few moments, billy had heard the shocked voices behind him, and directed his gaze to the center of everyone’s attention. he figured it was something stupid, before his mouth hung open at the image of his girlfriend clinging onto some fucking guy - in the way that she was supposed to hold him. it took him less than a second to get there, gripping at the guy’s shirt and wrenching away from her, the ordeal making his stomach churn in an unforgiving mix of anger, pain and disgust.

“who the fuck are you?” billy’s voice is gruff, the timbre of it deep and the rage shaking his body to the point where she could even recognize the vibrations. she blinked, looking up, and realized that whoever she’d kissed had absolutely not been billy. he was danny zuko, but not the one to her sandy.

“i - i don’t -” he begins stammering, as billy advances on him, the area of the room having gone eerily silent as everyone predicted a - bloody and short - fight.

“you think you can just touch my girl?” it’s a rhetorical question, but the guy tries his best to respond. seeing billy swing at him, she yanks his arm hard, in an attempt to stop him.

“bill - billy, stop it! it’s not like that, oh my god!” her voice tightens in desperation, and she throws her whole body weight into stopping that punch, practically hanging off his arm. it works in pulling him back a few steps, enough to diffuse the situation. he turns to look at her face and, seeing the glisten of tears in her eyes, he clenches his jaw, grabbing her arm and pulling away from the scene. in a series of choked exclamations, she attempts to apologize to the poor guy she had accidentally violated and nearly gotten injured.

he sits in silence in his ford, not having - as he usually did - opened the door for his girlfriend. not knowing what to say, and also knowing that he needed a moment to calm down, she attempted to suppress her light sobs, the alcohol in her system absolutely not helping in keeping her emotions in check.

when billy turned to look at her, he felt his soul depress at the sight of her screwed shut eyes - an attempt to hinder any more liquid from escaping them. though, remembering his previous thought, he had to accept the width of her expressive emotions - including the times that she cried. he turned to face her better, taking her face in his large hand and thumbing away her tear tracks.

“i’m sorry, god, i’m sorry, billy, i-” she chokes it out, whispering so as to not disturb the sobs caught in her throat and introduce a new wave of tears.

“it’s alright, babe, it’s alright.” for every apology, he reassures her, knowing that this was all some misunderstanding that she would explain in good time to him. she grips at the hand on her cheek, allowing it to ground her as she steadied her breathing. she was careful to wipe off her remaining tears with her palms, as opposed to her usual method of using her sleeves, as she didn’t want to ruin billy’s cherished jacket. realizing this, he felt his heart swell and, suddenly, his shock and anger became to secondary - secondary to her.

“i -” she hiccuped, and blew a deep breath out of her mouth to calm herself, “i saw him from behind and he looked like you, and i thought it was you, and i had missed you since you went off with your friends, and janice and i had had a couple glasses of punch, and i just wanted to feel you again, and-” she was rambling - a tendency she had when she was upset, and one he thought was sweet. he’s lightly shushing her, letting her know that she doesn’t have to continue explaining herself, and he pulls his face towards him, placing a soft - too soft for billy hargrove, but nonetheless - kiss on her lips.

now, she really did sink into it, with no reservations: his lips were soft and smooth against her own, he smelt like him, and she was able to really dig into his hair and pull at his locks. she cherished the feeling, trying to wash away the memory of the previous, not-exactly-right kiss at the party.

when he broke away, she wanted to chase his face, not quite done with him yet. he laughs, realizing the attempt, and she likes the sound of it, a smile gracing her own lips. his smile dies down, though, his lips pressing into a graver purse.

“i’m sorry for acting like that, babe.” he thought his days of getting into petty, drunken fights were in the past - in face, it was a vow to be better that he had attempted in her honor - and he couldn’t help but feel ashamed at the crass reaction.

“no! no, i - you -” she was stuttering, not sure how to collect her thoughts, “i get it. i’m sorry for scaring you.” the retract slowly, and he places his hands on the wheel.

“wanna go home?” she’s quick to nod.

“please. let’s go watch a movie.” he laughs, remembering the stack of halloween rentals she still had, and knowing that they’d have a long night ahead of them. she looks quite excited at the prospect of a movie marathon with him, and, as he look at her big doe eyes and the way that his jacket sits pretty on her shoulders, he smiles.

“i love you, babe.” it’s a soft statement, and it shocks her a little - as much as she knows his feelings to her, he was never very brazen in verbally representing it. nevertheless, she smiles warmly at him.

“i love you too, billy.

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕕𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕚𝕣-𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕕 - steve harrington x reader

complete masterlist | stranger things masterlist | steve harrington masterlist

words || 𝟙𝕜

series masterlist || week to all hallows' eve

summary || in which steve's a forgetful drunk

a/n || this has nothing to do with halloween lmao ➵ part of my 'week to hallows' eve' halloween countdown. check out the masterlist ^ ➵ not yet proofread ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/half a min of angst

her and steve had a deal at parties - he’d stick with his friends and she’d stick with hers, and - about every hour - they’d check in on each other. it was a necessary evil considering that, though his friends seemed nice, and he liked hers, it just wasn’t the same as being with your own circle.

and this: the annual halloween bash held at one of the basketball team’s places, was no different than any other, except that their periods away had been quite a bit longer, considering that she’d been dragged from place to place with her friends, and didn’t have time to seek him out.

she’d been swiveled in between different games: beer pong, truth or dare, slutty apple bobbing (which she still didn’t really understand) and even a pumpkin carving contest - which she and her friends had won a cool 2nd place in.

though she hadn’t seen him in a while, she figured he was just with his friends, having fun. besides, what was the worst that could happen?

she was pulled away from a conversation with her friend by a very frantic robin calling wildly for her. whipping her head around, she sees the blonde’s annoyed and exhausted face covered in sweat, and, for a moment, she was really concerned.

“you - hah - your boyfriend is -” she spoke in between gasps, “so drunk. will you please get him? i can’t deal with him alone.” in a moment, she’s by the girl’s side, looking for her apparently heavily inebriated boyfriend.

the first thing that she notices is a crowd of people forming and, pushing through it, she sees steve trying to pick a fight with eddie munson - one of his close friends. well, her boyfriend had never been a very bright drunk.

it doesn’t take as much effort as she thought it would to pull him off and away from the crowd and, with a little assistance from robin, she sits him down on a chair by the kitchen. he’s got a deep frown on his face, like he’s facing all the woes of the world, and she suppresses the urge to laugh. sitting on the table in front of him, she gently pulls his hand towards her.

steve’s love language had always been physical touch, and, many a times, in an attempt to console or calm him, she’d run her fingers over a part of his body. recently, it’d been his palm and so, sticking with that thought, she traced the lines on his palm with her own fingers.

to her surprise, though, he wrenches his hand away from her, the frown lines on his face having increased.

“you can’t do that.” he mumbles, and she’s taken aback by the statement.

“why not, baby?”

“and don’t call me that.” his demeanor is cold, even away from his inebriated state, and, now, she’s realizing that it’s scaring her.

“why, stevie? what did i do?” he pauses for a moment, contemplating his answer.

“you’re not supposed to - only she can.” her eyes widen - of all responses, she didn’t expect that.

her head reeled. who the hell was she? steve seemed so in love with her, in the same way she felt for him. could she have been completely wrong - had he been thinking about someone else this whole time? she felt as though she would be sick.

“huh? steve - who can call you that?” she really didn’t want to know, but knew that she had to.

for a moment, his response doesn’t register, as it seems too stupid of one. then, she looks at him and, seeing the serious look on his face and hearing him repeat the name, she begins laughing.

her boyfriend was not only a dumb drunk, but also a forgetful one, considering how he’d not only managed to forget what his girlfriend looked like in her outfit, but also that she was the one trying to help him.

“okay, stevie. so only she can call you baby then, right? and i can’t?” it’s probably cruel, but she feels she’s in her right to goad him a little considering the fucking heart attack he’d given her.

“no, you can’t. she is very pretty and she is my girlfriend and i love her and i don’t want anything else with anyone else.” she smiles at his never-ending loyalty, the rambling of his love for her making her heart swell.

“lright steve. can i at least take you home?”

“to her?” his eyes light up a little through his pout. she nods vigorously.

“alright. but don’t try anything. i’m watching you.” he points two fingers at his eyes, and then tries to point at her own, but completely misses, instead pointing at two random party-goers speaking a couple meters off. she rolls her eyes.

“c’mon you big lug, let’s take you home.”

getting him into the car was an adventure in itself but, once he was in it, he was never without a scowl - assuming that a stranger was driving his precious vehicle. though, at least he’s more quiet now, and she can drive in overall peace.

they finally get back to her place. and she plops him onto the sofa, going to place her bag down and locking the door behind her. realizing the ‘stranger’ hadn’t left yet, steve pouts.

“what’re you still doing here?” already having an answer ready for her diligently air-headed boyfriend, she’s quick to respond.

“oh, your girl said to take care of you until she comes back.” he’s still suspicious, narrowing his eyes at her, but not commenting further.

as she mills around, trying to get out of her outfit and put her things in order, she can see him keep dozing off before shaking himself awake - obviously not wanting to sleep until he could see his girlfriend.

finally, she exits the bathroom with her makeup and costume off, and she can see his face perk up.

“hey, baby!” he mumbles her name gleefully, letting her come and sit next to him on the couch. in his excitement, he tries to plant fat kisses on her face.

“go to sleep, stevie.” she pushes his face away from her, knocking him back gently so that he lands with a soft thump onto the couch. he seems like he wants to fight her request, but he’s practically passed out as his head touches the cushions. she smiles at the sight, placing a small kiss on his nose.

“g’dnight stevie, you lovable oaf.” kisses his nose and strokes his hair.

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 - singledad!bucky x neighbor!reader

complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | bucky barnes masterlist

words || 𝟚𝕜

series masterlist || week to all hallows' eve

summary || in which bucky's neighbor really connects with his daughter

a/n || gonna be posting a few stuff today to make up for my absence ➵ part of my 'week to hallows' eve' halloween countdown. check out the masterlist ➵ not yet proofread ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff

bucky knew how to deal with hair. he knew how to keep it soft, to keep it clean, to tie it up into both professional and casual pony-tails. he knew how to untangle it, and how to brush it without hurting the scalp. after all, he had kept his own hair almost shoulder length for quite a while. he’d never had a problem styling his little girl’s hair in the past, when she’d come to him with requests of ponytails or braids. hell, he’d even taught himself how to french braid for the girl but, as the time they should have been spending preparing to go trick-or-treating dwindled, he realized that the style that she had in mind was simply beyond his capabilities.

he ran a brush through it, detangling it again, and holding onto it right above the roots to ensure the knots would cease without causing any pain to her. she was distracted by the accents of her outfit, and he blows out a deep sigh, guilt-stricken at the thought of disappointing his daughter.

“sweetheart, are you sure you can’t have it like this?” he gently attempted to break the news to her, but she adamantly shook her head.

“no, daddy, it has to look like this!” she showed his reference picture again, and he nodded solemnly. he knew that the hair made or broke the costume, and he couldn’t ruin something she was so excited about. checking the time, he decided to employ his last resort. he turns his daughter’s chair around, taking her hand.

“c’mon. let’s go on a lil’ trip.”

bucky didn’t live with his daughter’s mother. the break-up had been swift enough, and he wasn’t too upset about ending the relationship, but he did regret the sheer loss of contact with the woman. she was never really too involved in their child’s life - invested in her own projects - and, though he didn’t too much mind that part, it did become difficult when he needed a woman’s expertise or perspective on certain topics. as close as he and his daughter were, there were simply some things better expressed within her own gender.

that was where she stepped in. she’d moved to the neighborhood just a while over two years ago. at first, they rarely met - her job keeping her out of the house for hours and sometimes days at a time. they’d met at the occasional barbecue or out on their lawns, and those few times showed just how good she was with his daughter. sometime last year, though, she’d switched to working from home and, suddenly, her schedule started lining up with his much more often.

after that, they’d drop by at each other’s places often. first, it was to ask for basics - do you have some sugar i could use? the store’s closed by now and i seem to have forgotten it… or could i borrow a wrench? my old one’s been a bit - er, misplaced, i suppose! - and, after that, it was to ask for small favors - i hate to bother you but i think my sink’s a bit broken and i hate to ask this of you, but could you look over her for a half-hour? i’ve just got to run into the shops.

since then, she’d pop in without warning, a dessert or snack in her hand - homemade, usually. then, when she found out that the young barnes’ favorite pastry was apple pie - courtesy of her uncle steve - she would bring it whenever she could. she’d be met with fond smiles and sung praises from bucky, but also a playful admonishment for spoiling his daughter.

though, he came to realize that, as he did, his daughter also absolutely adored her. she’d been a massive help when confused as to how to deal with his daughter’s expanding interests and emotions that he couldn’t really get.

he still remembered when he’d gone to her - completely baffled - with the topic of his daughter’s new kindergarten boyfriend. she was so young - and he couldn’t fathom the possibility. in fact, he had looked so grief stricken that she had unfortunately laughed when describing the problem, much to his indignance.

she was fantastic and, of course, absolutely gorgeous. had he been anyone else, he would have allowed himself to indulge in the thought of her so much more than this, though close, strictly friendly, neighborly relationship. but bucky knew that, though he was content in his choices, others say parenthood and the light of his life - his daughter - as a burden. after all, she was successful and seemingly fulfilled; who was he to add such a major role to her life.

still, he loved remembering the ways his little girl’s eyes shone at the mention of her.

he rapped on the door, his knuckles tapping the wood loudly. his daughter’s whole hand basically wrapped over one of his fingers, but she’s quick to release it at the sight of her opening the door, instead excitedly rushing to greet her. she grunts at the speed of the little girl’s pounce.

“oh, hello! is everything alright?”

“yeah, yeah, of course!” he reels his daughter back to him, keeping her in place, before swallowing, “just - look she’s got this idea for a hairstyle and i just can’t get the hang of it. could you - uhm -” she nods immediately, ushering the both of them in without hesitation.

they’d been inside several times and, as she ushers his daughter to go wait in the bathroom, he watches her try to finish arranging her candy for the night.

“oh, i’ve got that, please.” he immediately moves to her side, pulling at the super-sized bags on candy to place them in the neatly labelled buckets. she looks as though she wants to argue, but decides against it, smiling graciously as she goes to tend to the little one.

it doesn’t take long for him to finish emptying out the bags into the buckets, and he’s gone to see how the progress is going. she’s already got half of the girl’s pinned up delicately and cleanly, with not much more than a strand out of place. he watches her work her magic with a mixture of fondness at his daughter’s smiling face, and just a sheer awe at her ability to do something that he so struggled with.

it takes her no more that a few more minutes, taking the young girl to do a twirl in her completed outfit in the full-length mirror in the hall. she was giggling as she was being spun, before running to her daddy to show him her hair.

“wow.” it’s a true statement of wonder, and he looks up to see her blush lightly at the inherent complement. she crouches to be at the height of his daughter, caressing her dress with one hand to ease out any wrinkles and lightly taking her hand in the other.

“will i be seeing you, my little warrior?” his daughter looked up at him, and he pursed his lips in thought.

“oh, i’m not sure if your candy emporium -” she laughs at the analogy, “will still be open. we’re hitting our neighborhood last.” he daughter dejectedly looks at her, upset by the news that was new to the both of them. seeing this, she immediately shakes her head.

“it’ll still be open, i promise. d’you promise to come, honey?” she nods eagerly, babbling a promise! back at her, making her laugh, “d’ya promise, buck?” she tilts her head up to look at him, and he smiles.

“i promise.”

his daughter’s arms had gotten tired about halfway through with holding her heavy bag of goodies, and he was quick to her her out. now, with an absolutely brimming bag, they get to their last door of the night. he lifts her up a little so that she can reach the doorbell.

the door opens in moments and, with a toothy grin, she brandishes her bucket (with some support from her father)

“trick or treat!” she smiles at the little girl, picking out a large chocolate bar for the girl.

“and for, my little warrior, the best candy of them all!” having not seen the candy anywhere else, the young girl is elated, grasping at it and thanking her several times over. she looks up at the somewhat exhausted image of bucky, and smiles sympathetically to him, “wanna come in for a bit?” he looks a little surprised by the offer.

“are you sure?”

“’f course.” his daughter looks up at him.

“can i show her my candy, daddy?” she responds for him.

“of course you can, honey. c’mon, let’s got to the couch.”

as his daughter arranges her assorted goods on the coffee table, she brews hot chocolate for everyone, presenting the sweet drink in front of them in a few moments.

his daughter begins to explain her different treats but, as her drink dwindles, so too does her energy, and she’s quick to pass out on the floor. her father places her onto the couch, stroking her arm lightly to keep her in the soft lull of sleep.

“you’re real nice to her, you know.” he says it after a moment of silence, and it catches her a bit off-guard.

“she deserves it. she’s a real good kid - in most part due to her father.” she can see him flush at the compliment, and smiles.

“you help me out a lot, y’know.” she knows, but she also knows that he’d do the same for her.

“well, you are my favorite neighbor.”

“you mean it?” his tone’s a little different, and she looks up to see a gleam of flirtation in his eyes.

“i mean, who else could make single parenthood look so easy - and look good doing it?” he laughs, and she does too.

“she really likes you…loves you, i think. is that forward?” he’s a little worried by the comment, but he knows she won’t take it too oddly.

“not at all - i like-slash-love her too.” he smiles, as they both go silent, and for a moment, she knows what he’s thinking.

“do you think i could ever-”

“yes.”

“i didn’t ask the question?”

“shit, oh - no, it was just very obvious what you were gonna ask - go ahead, though, you can be a gentleman about it.” he laughs at her blunt response, but continues.

“alright then - could i ever take you out for a dinner? or a drink?”

she had been nodding already as he was asking the question, and he suddenly felt elated at her lack of hesitation

“please, that would be lovely.”

“will you come over to mine, then? friday?” she thinks for a moment, before nodding.

“friday’s good.” he looks at his daughter.

“i’ll find someone else to babysit for a change, then.” she laughs.

“nah, she can stay. i think it’ll be nicer.”

“y’think?”

“i know - who wouldn’t want her. she’s adorable!”

“you’re adorable.” she rolls her eyes at the cheesy comment, but the pink on her neck indicates her actual feelings.

“that was awful.”

“you liked it.”

“only because you’re the one saying it.”

“what can i say?”

“don’t say. get home, tuck her in and pick me up friday - 7 p.m.”

“yes, ma’am.”

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 (18+)

the do's (rules & information):

readers must be over 18 reading these drabbles

all works will be under or roughly a thousand words

thirty-one days of smut drabbles

ten days are open to requests for the kinks

ten days will include dark content (will be properly tagged)

five will include a dominant reader

the don'ts (what i am not interested in writing):

i only write fem!readers, with all involved characters being over 18

the kinks i'd appreciate you don't request are anything to do with anal penetration, bodily fluids (besides blood and cum), and certain dom/sub dynamics like age play or ddlg

otherwise, ask away, and i'll see if i'm comfortable writing your request!

the kinks and the characters

october 1: shower sex w/ frankie morales

october 2: ball worship (dom!reader) w/ eddie munson

october 3: sex pollen (dark) w/ din djarin

october 4: consensual non-consent (dark) w/ miguel o'hara

october 5: threesome (ffm) w/ marc spector & layla el-faouly

october 6: requested kink & character

october 7: breeding kink (dark) w/ duke leto

october 8: somnophilia (dark) w/ eddie munson

october 9: mutual masturbation (dom!reader) w/ steven grant

october 10: threesome (mmf) + double penetration (in one hole) w/ frankie morales and santiago garcia

october 11: titfucking w/ javier peña

october 12: requested kink & character

october 13: exhibitionism w/ poe dameron

october 14: dacryphilia (dark) w/ joel miller

october 15: temperature play (dom!reader) w/ din djarin

october 16: phone sex w/ jack daniels

october 17: corruption kink (dark) w/ dio morrissey

october 18: requested kink & character

october 19: edging (dark!dom!reader) w/ basil stitt

october 20: recording/blackmail (dark) w/ jonathan levy

october 21: mask + glove kink w/ jake lockley

october 22: hate + mirror sex w/ javier peña

october 23: cockwarming (dom!reader) w/ steven grant

october 24: requested kink & character

october 25: overstimulation w/ jake lockley

october 26: size difference w/ miguel o'hara

october 27: knife kink (dark) w/ bucky barnes

october 28: free use (dark) w/ joel miller

october 29: sex toys w/ natasha romanoff

october 30: requested kink & character

october 31: period sex/blood kink w/ santiago garcia

the characters (you guys can request)

from stranger things, i write for eddie munson, robin buckley, billy hargrove or steve harrington

from marvel, i write for bucky barnes, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, jake lockley, marc spector, steven grant, layla el-faouly and miguel o'hara

from star wars, i write for poe dameron, or din djarin (the mandalorian)

from triple frontier, i write for frankie morales and santiago garcia

miscellaneous oscar isaac characters i write for include basil stitt, jonathan levy, duke leto, kane and orestes (agora)

miscellaneous pedro pascal characters i write for include joel miller, javier peña, jack daniels (agent whiskey), dio morrissey

if you want to request another character, don't hesitate! i will see what i can do.

notes

guys i know i haven't written in like 1200 months but i wanna get back into the mood with the short smutty stuff

besides, i've never done kinktober and every other one i've seen bangs so hard i simply couldn't resist

side note - dark fics will be only available on my adjacent dark blog: @darkuselesssomebody, but will be linked on this masterlist. if you wanna read the dark drabbles and future dark work, give it a follow!

i am also willing to take non-kinky & halloween themed requests, so if you have any, let me know!

𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤 - jake lockley x reader

complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | moon knight masterlist

words || 𝟚𝕜

moon knight spring '24 bingo prompt + progress || 'bruise'

summary || in which jake gets a little jealous

a/n || so excited to be part of this event by @moonknight-events, my board looks so fun! check out their blog for a shit ton of other moon knight content by a bunch of other creators!

➵ ask if you wanna be added to a taglist

➵ heed the warnings in said masterlist, this series is 18+, and inherently dark

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smutty, but no sex

jake didn't take fares between 5 to 6 p.m.

he'd postpone his break so late, just to ensure he was always on time to pick her up from work. it annoyed him enough that he couldn't also drop her off, but the smattering of kisses that she'd pepper over his nose and lips before he left early for work made up for some - not all - of the worried thoughts he had of her commuting to work on her crowded subway train.

she finished work everyday at 5:00 on the dot, not hesitating with goodbyes and salutations, knowing who was waiting outside her building, just for her.

he stood outside his cab, hand on the passenger door handle to let her when as she usually bounded out of work, a beam on her face when she saw him. he checked the time, a cigarette almost half-smoked between his bare fingers - he wasn't getting his leather gloves ashy.

5:15.

what was taking her so long?

he hated having to wait for his girl: seeing her face after driving around the city - a somewhat lonely profession - was the best part of his day.

he slumped his shoulders, leaning against the car door, as he peered over the dark, but lively street. it was a row of offices, and other people were also clocking out. bored, he watched the gray cloud of smoke from his mouth, trying to distinguish it from the puffs of his warm breath showing up in the chilly air.

5:20.

5:25.

5:30.

he was starting to get concerned.

finally, after an eternity of waiting - see: 35 minutes - his face relaxes when he sees her hurriedly walking out of her work. immediately after, his brow furrows, at the sight of the man following behind her, a big, stupid smile on his face, mouth moving a mile a minute.

she looks up, noticing jake, and her face breaks into a look of pure relief, finally, a pep in her step as she nears her boyfriend. before she can greet him though, the guy behind her grabs her shoulder, whipping her back around.

jake's eyes widen at the little fucker's audacity.

he's saying some bullshit, holding onto her shoulder so can't turn back to jake, and the steam coming out of his ears leads him to only hear:

"... come out for a drink with me... really pretty... love to take you out-"

it's more than enough.

he calls her name, voice stern, but not to her. never to her. she whipped her head around, not turning as she mumbles a weak goodbye to the man, finally completing the short distance to jake.

she kisses his cheek quickly in greeting,before waiting for him to open the door, but he pulls her a little closer by the waist, pressing her body against his.

"let me kiss you properly, mi amor. i haven't seen you all day." her cheeks heat. he literally never does this, waiting to properly express his love after they got home.

"he's still looking?" she guesses, and his lips quirk in a smile, as he presses his lips to her soft, slightly parted ones, revelling in how she sinks into the comfort of his warmth.

"like a kicked puppy." he murmurs into her lips, and she giggles, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before pulling away.

"baby, open the door, i'm cold." she whines, and jake obliges her, pulling open the car door so she can sit back against the warm interior and crisp leather that he worked hard to maintain.

she only spares a glance at the other man. he's looking away.

"so, who was that?"

it had taken a couple hours, as well as the both of them reclining to the warmth of the couch - takeout clutched in their hands and a sitcom on the t.v. - for jake to finally ask the question nagging at the back of his mind.

she groans softly, hoping he'd forgotten. a silly wish.

"no one, jake." she murmurs quickly, to his immediate dissatisfaction.

"nuh-uh, amor, you have to give me more than that. he put his hands on you!" he said it like it was some inexcusable crime, and it made her giggle.

"he's just..." she sighs, chewing on her bite, "he's the new guy, y'know?" jake's eyes narrow.

"how long has he-"

"don't ask." she interrupts, knowing he'll be more upset if he found out the new guy's antics had occurred before. jake scowls, and she rolls her eyes, turning in the couch to better face him.

"jake~" she says his name softly, in a sing-song voice, prying the food from his hands and placing them on the coffee table. she cups his cheeks, running her fingers over his hair - messed up by that flat cap he always wore - and the little stubble on his face that he'd begun growing out when she professed she wanted to see him with a beard. she climbs slowly into his lap, guiding his arms to rest on the curve of her hips, "jake?" she finally asks again, as she's settled in.

"yes, mi amor?" his voice is gruff, as he lazily looks up at her. he's not shocked by her movements, happy to have her so close, but is still evidently stingy about the new guy.

"remind me, who did i go home with today?" she asks, rhetorically. jake rolls his eyes as he looks up at her.

"me, amor, but-"

"and who am i most excited to see whenever i leave work?"

"also me, but-"

"and who is the only person who gets to touch every part of me?" her voice drops to a whisper, guiding his warm fingertips under her shirt, to the skin of her midriff.

"me." he breathes out.

"you...?" she prompts.

"only me." satisfied with his answer, she leans down to press a soft kiss to his lips, cupping his scratchy cheeks, and giggling she he squeezes her hips.

"and who do i love?" she whispers, when she breaks away for air.

"i hate when you talk to me like a child." he chides, changing the subject, and it makes her giggle.

"wrong answer, try again." he raises a brow of challenge, before pulling her closer, and then standing up, his palms splayed under and cupping her thighs so he could carry her into their bedroom. she squeaks in shock, clinging onto him, "what're you doing?!"

"showing you why you love me."

falling unceremoniously on the bed, she lets out a small 'oof!', but its cut short by the way his mouth captures hers in a hungry kiss.

"someone's needy," she teases, when he breaks away, but it's cut off my a small moan, as his tongue travels down the length of her jaw, to her neck.

"i'll beat the shit out of him if he touches you again." jake grumbles into her skin.

"are you kidding? he obviously knows i have a boyfriend, he's leaving me alone." jake's head emerges from where he's kissing at her neck.

"hmm..." he looks contemplative, "maybe... he could do with a little reminder."

she's unsure what he's planning, but his devilish grin tips her off that it's going to be an idea she might chastise him for. indeed, it is.

his head sinks back down. finding the flesh of her neck, and rolling it gently between his teeth, before clamping a little harder, and sucking. so enamored by the sensation of the slight pain laved by the tingles of his warm tongue, she doesn't realize what he's doing for a moment.

"jake!" she squeaks when she realizes, "you can't - can't mark me!" his laugh is gruff against her skin.

"why not?" without waiting for an answer, his teeth nip at the skin under her collarbone. she gasps at the feeling, trying to tug at his hair to dissuade him - to no avail.

"oh, baby, it's such a pain in the ass to cover them-"

"then don't." the curt response renders her speechless for a moment, enough time for his teeth to sink into the flesh of her shoulder.

"you want him to see..." he laughs.

"that sure took you a moment, amor." seeing as she doesn't meaningfully try to stop him, he continues his work, teeth sinking into as much of the expanse of her neck and chest as he could reach.

they're blue and purple the next morning. she looked like she'd been attacked by something. her eyes quite literally bugged out of her head at the sight.

groaning, she reaches for her makeup bag. jake peeks his head into the bathroom, immediately taking the bag from her hands.

"jake-?" her brows furrow in confusion, but she's cut off by how his other arm wraps around her waist, looking at her in the mirror to see all the bruises smattered over her skin. she reaches blindly to take back her makeup, but he evades her hands, "jake, i need to do my makeup!" she whines softly, making her laugh and kiss her cheek.

"you're gonna cover them up." she scoffs.

"of course i'm gonna cover them up, i look like i was in an mma fight with a raccoon!" he shakes his head.

"no, you look like you had fantastic, animalistic sex with your boyfriend." she cringes a little, laughing.

"and why do my poor coworkers have to know that?" he deadpans.

"as long as your newbie knows." he murmurs, a little bitter, as a finger goes to trace the bruises.

"are we seriously still on that?" she turns to face him, kissing his cheek, "i thought i told you he's just annoys me a little." she assures.

"oh, trust me, amor. he won't from now on."

he didn't let her put her makeup on - even for her face, not trusting her to not start covering up those beautiful marks. instead, with the time she saved in between waking up and eating breakfast, he pulled her back to bed, kissing over each and every bruise, as their coffee water heated.

"you know i love you, right, jake?" she murmurs softly into his forehead, kissing his hairline.

"of course, mi amor. i love you, too." 'she's being so sweet, isn't she?' he thinks.

"can you tell me where you hid my makeup bag?" he snorts, shushing her with a kiss to the lips.

"fat chance."

he's waiting outside her work again, squishing his cigarette under the toe of his shoes as he sees her walking out. with no fucking newbie chasing after her.

"how was work?" he asks, as she presses her daily greeting kiss on his cheek.

"good." she answered, a big smile on her face, as he slowly opens the passenger door. before she sits down, though, he gestures to her neck and chest.

"show me." he instructs, and she laughs, pulling off her scarf to show that the bruises were still well-pronounced. it makes him smirk, as he nods appreciatively, sitting down.

as he peels away, he glances at her, noticing her happy attitude.

"so, did newbie bother you? should i say 'i told you so'?" he teases, and it makes her a little embarrassed.

"i... no, he didn't bother me." he grins.

"tell me more, come on."

"he... looked horrified, if i'm being honest." she giggles.

"good." his response was curt, but his smug smile spoke 1000 words. as he stopped at a red light, he leans over to peck her lips.

"so, should i say it?" she smiles, indulging him.

"go on."

"i told you so."

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 - joel miller x reader

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

words || 𝟚.𝟜𝕜

summary || in which the reader and ellie try to make joek the perfect christmas

a/n || i got the christmas fic out kinda on time?? i'm so shocked

➵ i will find it in myself to be consistent at some point. not yet tho. anyways this week has been hell so i'm happy i wrote something. this is not a 100% practical apocalypse christmas, but we work with what we have

➵ if you don't celebrate christmas or this fic is not for you, i'm working on a moon knight winter themed work to be posted before/at new years (with hopefully some hanukkah mentions!!) so if that interests you stay tuned!

➵ merry christmas if you celebrate! i hope you guys have had a nice ass extended weekend or are holidaying somewhere fun

➵ not edited (yet)

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff

joel had been everywhere since the outbreak started. quarantine zones in boston, traveling across the midwest, once being carted off all the way to montana. 

that didn’t change the fact that home was 2003 austin, texas. the last time his heart didn’t always race, the last place he didn’t have to sleep with one eye open. the last place he called home.

but dammit, if jackson wasn’t coming close. and why wouldn’t it? tommy was here, and ellie was - too. his heart didn’t beat like he’d just run a marathon - or from a group of raiders or stalkers. his sleep came naturally here - the bags under his eyes had began reducing. the restless nights didn’t come from flashbacks, or nightmares anymore, but rather, the woman sleeping next to him.

she always knocked out like a light after they were done, curling into the human furnace he essentially was, head finding its familiar place on the left side of his chest, his broad palm wrapped around her shoulder - pulling her closer. he didn’t mind - he got his nightly eyeful of her beauty: the peaceful expression on her face, the way her lips slightly parted as she puffed out air, the way a loose strand of hair might reach down to tickle her nose or her cheek, causing her to twitch in discomfort until he would push the offending strand back into place. 

he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head - a softness he never exhibited to anyone but his two girls - much to tommy’s chagrin. he smiles softly, lips curling as he remembers the events of the day. breakfast at the cantina, helping her help with some of the crops that the settlement was growing for self-sustenance, the both of them taking ellie to a friend’s house, enjoying lunch with her - a moment alone from the excitable teenager - before he left for his nightly patrolling duty, only to return to her and ellie a few hours later. 

a peaceful day. with the both of them.

he glances over at the large window shining the moon’s dim light into the room. it’s snowing, the white flakes reflecting the moonlight to create a glittery night sky, having already stacked onto the outdoor windowsill. 

that was one of the things that reminded him that this wasn’t austin. the *snow*. piling high on the roofs, a bitch to clear in the front of the little house the three of them shared - a chore she always managed to convince him to do. it wasn’t exactly a tough bargain: a small kiss to his lips, and a ‘pretty please?’, and - much to the amusement of ellie - he’d be out of the door with the shovel in an instant. joel liked the snow - it was, in many ways, aesthetically pleasing, if not a little inconvenient. 

and - well, a white christmas, right? who would he be to deny that beauty, especially for his favorite holiday of the year - back when things were normal. while tommy and him traveled together, though, he’d still offer an extra ration of food, reciprocated by a medkit or a bandage on tommy’s end. when he and tess were still together, they’d exchange guns. joel always got the short end of the stick - sometimes literally, once earning a pistol is exchange for a rifle. didn’t matter, though. tess was ecstatic, and it’s not like the two didn’t share.

that was one thing he was real excited for since bringing ellie here - getting her something she’d really want for christmas. and the same for her, laying next to him. using an elaborate network of spies (see: tommy and maria), he had discreetly collected the information as to what would interest them both. 

for ellie, 3 new editions of savage starlight, the joel had managed to find when he’d been assigned on runs away from the perimeter of the settlement. and for her, a cassette player, that he had tinkered with to get to work again. it had some of her favorite songs - the ones she’d heard from others after the outbreak, or the ones she’d remembered from before, and it had taken hours of looking around abandoned cars for the cassette tapes. he hoped to add to her collection for the new year, and to catch her able to actually listen to the songs she likes to hum to much in the shower, or around the house.

the only problem was… well, the atmosphere. it was a white christmas, sure, but the distinct reds and greens were missing from the town. there was a christmas tree up in the hall, but little else specifically regarding christmas, to his disappointment. maria’s explanation was to allow space for every winter celebration to breath. there was hanukkah candles around the settlement’s common areas, adding a distinct beauty in the flickering lights of the flames. similarly, kwanzaa candles were up anywhere that diwali’s clay lamps had been previously. the settlement had so many groups, that joel was sure that he missed other decorating items. and he didn’t mind a bit of it.

but he’d been so busy with everything, that he hadn’t had time to nurture the spirit of christmas that he enjoyed so much, even privately. he would have liked to wake up to a decorated tree, a flurry of red and green around the living room, but it was already christmas eve. and after the excitable day he’d had - now in the company of his love, and ellie just down the corridor, he figured he didn’t mind all too much.

he was home.

he was asleep. finally.

she sighs in relief, finally squeezing out of his snuggle. regardless of his years on the road, he was always a heavy sleeper - even more nowadays, with less apparent threats. thank god for her.

she’d had to pretend to be asleep a lot longer than she thought she’d have to, him obviously having a contemplative night before deciding to fall asleep, but she’s grateful it’s finally happened. sneaking out of the room, avoiding the floorboards she’d memorized as the creaky ones, she shuts the door with the smallest clack - but even that makes her wince. stilling for a moment to ensure joel hasn’t woken, she looks down the hall at ellie, who is similarly traversing the floor with caution. 

“he asleep?” ellie asks, and she affirms with a grin.

“out like a light.” ellie gives her a thumbs up, before they both make their way to the back door - which was perfectly larger than the front door. outside, tommy stands, looking bored out of his mind.

“jesus. what the hell took you guys so long?” he grumbles, which makes ellie giggle, muffling it behind her palm.

“he kept thinking, oh, you know how he is, tommy.” she brushes off his annoyance with a little smile, and he shrugs.

“yes, ma’am.” he salutes playfully.

“did you get it?” ellie asks excitably, and he nods, reaching around to the side of the house to procure the spruce tree - a net tied around it to ensure the branches wouldn’t hit anything. it’s about a foot taller than tommy, and it’s just perfect for the house. “c’mon, c’mon!” ellie insists in a hushed whisper, and the two of them help him with bringing the tree discreetly inside.

once it’s neatly in, tommy drops off his wrapped gift for joel, having already dropped off in the evening his and maria’s gift of the best christmas cookies - well, any cookies - ellie and her had ever eaten, and bids the two girls farewell. when the house is silent again, she looks at ellie.

“wanna do the tree, or the other stuff?” to no surprise to her, ellie’s response is immediate.

“tree."

after a half-hour of decorating and filling the living room with some semblance of christmas joy, she hoists ellie up as much as she can so the teen can place a makeshift, glittering star on the top of the tree. adorned in reds and greens, the living room looked perhaps more woodsy than like a shop display - due to the lack of a perfect tinsel replica - but the glitter and foil would have to as viable substitutes.

exhausted, the both of them sneak another one of tommy and maria’s cookies, before ellie places three gifts for joel under the tree - from the two girls and tommy - while she looks in joel’s not-so-hidden hiding spot, for all his goods he didn’t want her or ellie finding. she’d found it almost immediately after its creating though, and knew joel was hiding their gifts in there. though, as they were wrapped, they still remained a mystery to her as she placed them under the tree. 

the fruitful effort ends with a hug goodnight, before ellie wanders into her room to pass out, and she sneaks back into her and joel’s room, seeing him still in deep sleep - even snoring a little. 

with a big, fat beam on her face, she curls back up next to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and whispering,

“merry christmas, joel.”

the next morning, joel awakens to an agitated ellie tapping her foot on the floor, sitting at the foot of the bed, reading a book as she waited for him to awaken.

“oh, finally.” she sighs in relief, helping him sit up, as he wiped his eyes groggily, “c’mon, she’s making pancakes!” pancakes for breakfast was reserved for special days, and today was very special. with a half-smile, joel gets to his feet, grabbing and pulling ellie into his side my her shoulders, and hugging her tightly, ruffling her hair.

“merry christmas, ellie.”

“merry christmas, joel!” she chirps back, very animatedly. 

too animatedly.

joel’s eyes nearly bug out when they reach the living room, where this morning’s chef is standing, a big grin on her face.

“surprise!” she and ellie say in unison, as his eyes dart around to take in the christmas colors, the stockings, the - oh, the tree!

the little kid inside him was practically jumping for joy at the ornate tree that rose above a smattering of presents on the ground. 

she joins him and ellie, taking his other hand.

“like it?”

“like it? baby, i love it.” he kisses her cheek, holding the kiss, trying to convey how meaningful this was to him, and ellie playfully prods his side, pretending to cringe. in response, he lets out a big, hearty laugh - one of few - and ruffles her hair, squeezing her tighter. both, his silent thank you’s.

after a big breakfast of pancakes, they settle into the couch, gifts surrounding them. 

ellie goes first. she unwraps joel’s present to her - the new editions of the comic. she blows her lid in excitement, hugging him tightly, before beginning to wander off as she examines the comic, making the two adults laugh as they playfully beg her to come back.

then she goes. the bulky gift makes her curious, but, as the unwraps it, seeing the cassette tape, her eyes widen in shock, “baby, how on earth…?” her brows furrow as she internalizes the effort it must have taken him to collect all those songs. the looks she gives joel is nothing short of adoration, and that made every minute of the hunt worth it.

finally, it’s joel. tommy’s gift first, and it sloshes when he jiggles it. unwrapped, it’s a familiar label and liquid: a jack daniel’s old number 7, his go-to before the outbreak. surprised his little brother remembered, he grins lightly as he places the bottle beside him, looking forward to enjoying it. from her, he opens the gift to find a meticulously crafted, sewn and polished knife holster, “because i mentioned how old mine was?” he asks her softly, and she nods, with a sheepish smile, “i love it.” he affirms, tracing the edges, “my baby’s good at everything then?” he teases, and she giggles - much to ellie’s distaste.

“open mine, joel!” she insists, placing her smaller box in his arms. 

“hold on, ellie.” he laughs, taking the wrapping off meticulously. it’s an unassuming box, and, looking inside, his face sobers a little. 

it’s a watch. with a brown band, and a white dial - more importantly it works. immediately, ellie’s face falls.

“you don’t like it? i thought… you know, your watch doesn’t work, so-”

joel sighs, shaking his head as he pulls ellie to him to calm her.

“no, no - it’s not that.” he assures, throat constricting as he experiences a heartbreaking deja vu. 

they don’t know.

after a moment of silence, joel smiles.

“i think it’s great, ellie. i really like it, damn well needed a watch too - tommy always keeps me an hour and a half instead of an hour on our patrols, and i can never prove it. now i can.” he tried to diffuse the tension with a small joke, but ellie still looks a little concerned. she does too. 

joel immediately puts the watch on, but on his other wrist, leaving sarah’s watch untouched. “there.” he hums, examining the watch on his wrists.

“matches your boots,” she comments, and ellie lights up a bit.

“i did that on purpose.” joel smiles up at her.

“well thank you, ms. fashionista.” he teases, “now i don’t got an excuse to be late for dinner, huh?”

the two other finally crack, giggling a little.

“so you always know you’re late for dinner?” ellie teases, and he laughs.

“gotta give you two time to scheme alone, hmm?” he counters, “where would all these decorations have come from if y’all didn’t have a couple minutes alone at the table.” he teases.

“well, now, since you won’t be late, all three of us will scheme.”

“against tommy.” joel adds, and ellie laughs.

after a few more jokes, ellie goes to wear out her new comics, and the other two remain on the couch. lazily wrapping an arm around his neck, she hums.

“happy?”

“ecstatic.” he assures, with a content smile. she traces the new watch on his wrist - ellie’s.

“makes you look cool. like you’re a very busy man.”

“you say it like i’m not.” he jokes back, and she smiles.

“you’ve got enough time for us.” she counters, and he leans back, pulling her flush to him as he kisses her lips softly.

“you two are the only things i got time for.” he corrects. her cheeks heat.

“merry christmas, joel.”

“merry christmas.”

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕀: 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖 (when the world went to shit | pre! and post!outbreak joel miller x reader)

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

“𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕞𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕔 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥” - last words of a shooting star | mitski

words || 𝟚.𝟚𝕜

series masterlist || when the world went to shit

previous || i: the prologue

summary || in which the reader and joel reminicse on times gone by

a/n || first fic of 2024!!

➵ part of a series; check the masterlist ^!

➵ ask if you wanna be added to a taglist

➵ not proofread

➵ heed the warnings in said masterlist, this series is 18+

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || really harsh angst

➵ character death

➵ suicide

➵ suicidal ideation

ellie had been quiet the past few days, and joel wasn’t sure he could blame her.

he’d tried to make it better - if that’s any consolation. he’d read that book of puns with her cover to cover about twice, he’d tried to get her to go out and meet other youth in the jackson commune, and even spoke privately with maria to see if the older women could help him liven ellie’s spirits. one night, he’d take her out on one of the horses, citing a perimeter check to tommy as the reason and, though one had been carried out that day itself, his brother seceded, seeing the desperate look on joel’s face and the contemplative one on ellie’s.

she’d liked it, he thinks. they’d sat just a kilometer or two from the commune, such that if they both went really silent and tuned out the bugs and wind, they’d still hear the distant buzz of electricity coming from the beacon that the commune was. the horse ride was quiet, but she’d hugged onto his back, maybe tighter than she’d done before, and her head rested against him, causing him to try and move as little as possible, so as to keep her comfortable. he’d introduced her to the concept of constellations, and she’d cracked a few smiles - maybe even a laugh or two - as her imagination concocted wild shapes over the stars. she’d fallen asleep on the way back, her light breaths sometimes catching and turning into small snores, making joel’s still tough exterior crack just slightly, a smile delicately resting over his features.

carrying her had become practically second nature to him now, easing her into her bed in their small house - one they could call their own. she looked peaceful - happy, and he hoped it would carry onto the next day. settling into his own bed - not far from hers, feeling paranoid should it be - he gazed up at the blank wall above him, deep breaths and a quiet night allowing him to practically feel the oxygen coursing through his body. 

a sudden sense of deja vu overtakes him, and it’s so powerful that it physically overwhelms him, making his head spin and his breath catch. it was so strong, it was almost as though he could feel her, hear her next to him, telling him to stay another moment, wrapping her legs over his and her arms around him. his mind has wandered away from ellie, resting instead on… her. the one that got away.

what had she said again? that morning… something about movies? mornin’ lovin’? he couldn’t remember exactly what, but he did remember her - how she made him feel.

it was just before all this. the last time he was really content, before the contentment he found in jackson.

he wondered about her.

she sometimes wondered how she made it so far into the end of the world.

maybe she was more hardy than she made herself out to be - a fast learner, with an adaptive personality.

but really, what she had was support.

when the world went to shit, she had hidden in her bathroom. and - perhaps the only person in the world she believed remembered her - her neighbor, a few doors down, and also her closest work friend. she heard the grating horn of a car, but did it sound sweet when the voice that accompanied it called out for her.

she ran outside, shielding her eyes from the explosions occurring in the distance, and she runs up to the door of the car. inside, bella: the girl who sits in the cubicle across from her, who seemed so sweet, if not a little mouthy when they gossiped about their boss, always-rememebered-everyone’s-birthday bella, sitting in the driver’s seat with a determined, cold look in her eyes, a pistol peeking out of her half-opened glovebox.

“get in.” bella orders, and she immediately complies, sliding into the passenger seat, and nearly screaming when a hand places softly on her shoulder to reassure her. whipping her head back, as bella begins to drive, she sees ryan, their other coworker - who bella was a bit closer with.

“what the fuck is going on?” she whimpers, and ryan swallows harshly.

“fuck if i know? people are going crazy - we have to get somewhere isolated.” bella hums in agreement, eyes trained on the road.

“can you use a gun?” her heart clenches.

“a - what? no - no, i can’t-”

“learn.” bella’s tone is sharp, and it shuts her up.

ryan squeezes her shoulder again.

“bella, calm down. guys, we’ll be okay. we’ll figure it out.”

somehow, they had. the three of them had managed to get out of the city, driving through the farm lands - where few people stayed, and once they were far enough away from the suburbs and the city center, they found an abandoned farm.

that was the first safehouse.

they had gone through… perhaps over a thousand - now, 20 years into all this. 

they worked together well - bella had a gun license, and had taught the other two - both now armed with their own guns that they had pulled off different houses. she used to be a scout, and had some lifestyle experience and first-aid knowledge. and ryan was strong and aware - he was the main reason they had escaped approaching infected or - in many cases, worse - people.

it was difficult to be a woman in the apocalypse - and he knew that. he took his job very seriously.

she doesn’t remember exactly when it happened, but bella and ryan got together. of course, maybe she always expected it, but it was a symbol of hope - they were a show of normalcy in a world of horror. bella confided in her a lot - about finding somewhere to possibly begin settling down, setting up defenses… maybe having a self-sustaining farm. it was quaint, it was sweet, it was homely, and best, it was starting to seem realistic. 

but that’s when their luck ran out.

waking up to sharp clicks coming up the stairs, stuttered steps clacking against the wooden floor. she jolts awake, immediately cringing at the slight squeak of the bed. luckily, past the only slightly ajar door, the muffled sound is only enough to cause the clicker to pause and curiously angle its body in the direction of the sound. 

she looks up in horror at bella and ryan - both also up, and trying their best to be dead silent. bella gets up, with only the smallest creak of the floorboards, as she signals to ryan to grab the bag, and for her to get up. both comply, joining her. they all know there’s no shot of getting out through the front door, and bella points to the window. ryan and her both procure their pistols, aiming at the clicker, and she remembers the way her stomach churned in horror. 

as bella opens the window, there’s a loud creak as it opens, and for a quarter of a second, they all glance at each other with blown out, horrified eyes.

immediately, the clicker bursts through the door, snarling and clicking loudly and wildly. ryan shoots at it, causing it to only stagger a little.

“get out!” he shouts, and she complies, forcing bella to come with her - though she knows the other woman desperately wants to stay and help ryan.

but she’s not too worried - he’s handled this stuff before. he’ll get out.

right?

they flee off the roof, jumping down from the short height to the floor, and hiding in the nearby bushes, as they wait for ryan to join them, but then, at the sound of screams…

bella begins to sob.

it’d been a year since.

bella hasn’t been the same.

she’s tried to keep them both alive, keeping a much lower profile, and trying to be more brave when looting and encountering infected and raiders. keeping the both of them afloat was not what she’d signed up for, but she tried her best to step up to the task.

today was ryan’s death. it was as if the day knew it - gloomy, and raining when she woke up that morning. bella was turned away, pouring over her belongings in the corner of the bedroom of the abandoned house they were currently settled in.

she decided not to bother her.

looking around, they were low on… well, everything. luckily enough, the area was a ghost town. perhaps she could go looting - seeing what she could find. she’ll do it herself, she decides, and maybe bring back something to soothe bella’s troubled mind.

“i’m going out, okay?” her voice is soft, and bella doesn’t look up, instead humming dejectedly in response, and she swallows thickly.

she appreciates the fresh air outside. overgrown with plants, each building is lush and green, as she looks around at the landscape.

first, she picks off the houses. decent medical equipment, some ammo, and some food. it was a good haul, and for the first time in a long time, her bag feel heavy.

there’s a bar across the street. sounds promising. swinging the belled door open, she hears it ring behind her as she stalks in. she slowly looks around. it looks… worn. but it’s oddly warm, compared to the other houses.

she glances at the shelves, and there’s a few unopened bottles - one or two stronger liquors. smiling softly, she takes one. she’s not greedy - one is enough for now. for tonight.

walking back to their shelter, she’s careful to walk up the creaky stairs of the house, avoiding the tripwires she’d lined with attached pots to note the presence of her intruder.

“bella!” she calls, “look what i got!” no answer.

“bella?” she continues, “the bar had some goods!” still no answer. reaching the door, she inhales deeply as she prepares to try to help bella feel better.

“bella…” she slowly swings open the door.

bella’s in there. as is a rope hanging from the ceiling. her feet aren’t touching the ground, and her head is lolling to the side, eyes closed - chest… still. she’s not breathing. 

she gasps in shock, horrified, before she suddenly shuts the door. she can’t look inside. she can’t breathe. her chest clenches painfully, and she falls to her knees, eyes welling - blurring her vision.

“no… no, no, no, this can’t be happening…”

she whispers it to herself, begging to someone, anyone that what she’d seen hadn’t been real. but it is. no one else is here.

she wants to scream, and wail tears streaming down her cheeks, but she can’t. she knows she can’t. someone will hear her, something will come for her. 

her hand touches the bottom of the door, seeing bella’s shadow through the slit between the wood and the floor there. 

she can hear her own heartbeat.

she wishes that she wouldn’t.

she was… angry at bella.

was it selfish? perhaps.

but she believed it was equally selfish for bella to do such a thing, and to strand her completely alone in the cruel world, with the knowledge that the only two people in the world who knew that she existed had died.

how do you move on from that? she wondered that for a long time. she wondered if there was a point. but then, she remembered bella’s hopes for her - unfortunately cut short - future with ryan. and that stability - that idea of a home, not the nomadic life she was forced to live - she yearned for it deeply, and it was the only thing that kept her going.

when she came to this conclusion, she opened that door that she’d cried in front of for the first time. she needed her things - she needed to start packing up. and, as she did, she noticed a note by the windowsill. 

bella’s handwriting, one she could still recognize from the notes that bella would playfully hand her in passing back before all of this, sharing some new piece of office gossip.

of course, this was a different kind of note.

she walked downstairs, closing the door gently, before closing all the blinds and sitting on the couch. that was her bed for tonight, and tomorrow, she would move on.

she goes to sleep that night, reading through bella’s note to find some closure. it makes her head and eyes swim, but she powers through it. she’s less angry at bella afterwards. she’d cared for her until the very end, and it was only after a year of contemplation and anguish - that bella suffered through to stay with her - could bella no longer do it.

her cheeks, and the dusty cushion of the couch are drenched as she falls asleep, note clutched to her chest.

for the first time in a while, her dreams were vivid.

she dreamt of the world before, her old life, her happy memories of bella, ryan, and her other friends. she remembered her highs and her heartbreaks. at some point, a prominent face made a distinct appearance.

joel miller.

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕚: 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖 (when the world went to shit | pre! and post!outbreak joel miller x reader)

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

“𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕓𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤𝕟'𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕕,

𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕠𝕞” - last words of a shooting star | mitski

words || 𝟛.𝟟𝕜

series masterlist || when the world went to shit

summary || in which the reader can't seem to want to commit

a/n || i haven't posted in so long and when i finally do it's mitski inspired??

➵ i am so excited for this series i swear i've been planning it since april or something

➵ part of a series; check the masterlist ^!

➵ ask if you wanna be added to a taglist

➵ heed the warnings in said masterlist, this series is 18+

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || angst/smut

➵ unprotected sex

➵ piv sex

the texas sun was one that she was still not used to, despite having lived in austin for a few years. still having to slather a filmy amount of sunscreen on her skin, still having to wear a cap or glasses at all times to shield her poor eyes, and always waking up at the ass crack of dawn, when even the heavy-duty curtains she’d bought couldn’t quite block the sunlight from streaming onto her face, or lighting up her room to an unavoidable degree.

this morning was different. maybe it was the place where this guy’s house was constructed, compared to her own, but she was waking up - not to the sunlight practically smacking her poor, delicate eyes - but rather, to soft snores. she turns slightly, peeking an eye open to notice joel’s mouth hanging open as he breathes deeply. she turns back, looking at the bedside table. it was already 11, but it was a sunday, so she rested her head back on the worn pillows, yawning a little behind her hand. she had - as aforementioned - been forced to become an early riser, so the late morning was caused by her late night - with the tasty, very loud d.i.l.f. sleeping next to her. she smirks slightly at the memory of the previous night, and she bites her lip a little.

“fuck, joel-”

“that’s it, sweetheart, jus’ like that f’r me, you wanna be good f’r me?

her unabashed whines, his disgustingly well-chosen words, and his even-better mouth. his delicious accent, low and raspy in her ear, and - she was sure - her breathy, broken moans in his. she felt a stab of desire strike her core, and she turns back, weighing her options.

she could either let him continue to snore loud enough for her to not get back to sleep, or wake him up, and have some more fun. what’s a girl to choose?

whoever picked the latter, you get a cookie! and railed.

she turns her body fully to be facing him, feeling the warmth of his bicep and forearm graze against her stomach and breasts as she cuddles up to be glued to him. she brings her arm up to lazily splay over his bare torso. her finger play over his defined chest, and his soft tummy, not yet being bold enough to slip her fingers under the waist of the sweatpants he’d hastily put on as she’d begun drifting back to sleep bare, joining her afterwards.

“joel~” she says in a soft, sing-song tone. she places a soft kiss to his shoulder, gently playing with the hair on his chest, “wake up, c’mon.” she urges, just a touch more desperate.

he doesn’t even react.

she furrows a brow, now lightly poking at his chest, “joel? you gonna wake up, you old lug?” she teases. usually, he was quick to snap - or at least retort - to a comment like that, but the best he could currently muster was a louder snore.

she scoffs, getting up, and climbing on top of him, using her knees to avoid putting her weight fully on him. she cups his cheeks, really, really wanting to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, and then shout in his ear, but she’s not awarded the chance, as he wakes up - rather unceremoniously - at the feeling of her leaning over him. she giggles at his confused expression and squinted, groggy eyes, “good morning.”

“fff-” he grunts something garbled out, and she thinks it might be a curse, making her lean back, trying to suppress her smile.

“you’re a very graceful sleeper.” she teases, “you need me to pick up a prescription for snoring?” he finally opens one of his eyes, looking at her on top of him.

“aww, did i wake you, sweetheart?” he says in mock concern, rubbing his eyes.

“oh, you woke up a lot of things.” she murmurs softly, voice dropping a half-octave, gently rocking her hips over his in her position. he sighs softly, opening his eyes to look up at the bare ceiling.

“it’s early.” he complains, voice gruff and hoarse from the sleep.

“it’s 11.” she deadpans in response, “besides, a little mornin’ lovin’ is good for everyone, c’mon,” she urges softly. a smile tugs at his lips, making her beam, as his hands travel down to rest on her hips, gently slowing - but not stopping - her hips rocking.

“mornin’ lovin’. that ‘lovin’’ shit should stay a nighttime thing.” he mumbles, contradicting the soft squeeze his broad palms give the flesh of her hips.

“hmm, you think so? what happens if it goes past your bedtime, old man?” she teases softly, running her fingers over his stomach. he grunts, in exaggerated annoyance.

“it’s sexy at night. it’s cheesy in the mornin’.” he explains, and she leans down to kiss him to shut him up.

“that’s what makes it fun. besides sex in the morning’s sweet and sexy in the movies, so…” she reminds him.

“not my movies, sweetheart.” she laughs, guiding his hands at her hips to help her move a little faster.

“no, your life.” she corrects, playing with the hem of his sweatpants. he bites his lips.

“be quick, ‘kay, sweetheart? my girl’s gonna be home soon.” happy he’s given in, she raises her hips enough to pull the sweatpants down. she brings her hand back to gently palm him, now bare, as she leans down to kiss him.

“sir, yes, sir.” she says jokingly, but she raises a brow when she realizes that the way she says it made his cock harden in her hand, “ooh, that’s fun.” she whispers, nipping at his jaw. she positions herself on top of him properly, letting him hold her steady, while she uses one of her hands to guide him in. she breathes deeply, “still as big as last night.” she mumbles, making him smirk, bringing his thumb to her clit, making her bite her lip to keep from squeaking out a moan. she lets him rub her for a few more seconds, breathing out shakily at his slow touch, before sinking down on him, head falling forward as she places her hands on his chest to ground herself.

“there ya go, sweetheart, you’re getting better.” he teases, with an overtone of softness, rubbing her thighs as she adjusts to the stretch, “remember last night?” did she ever.

“too - too big, joel, stop-!” he slows down, pausing as he’s nearly bottomed out, leaning down to kiss her neck softly, hoping it’ll soothe her. more than that, her ability to now clutch him closer to her chest was definitely helping her feel better, and she breathed deeply.

“ready?” he asks quietly against her jaw, “wan’ me to pull ou’?” his words are muffled by the thick accent and her neck. she shakes her head.

“it’s okay.” she whispers, “you - you can go.”

“joe - joel-” she whimpers out airily, as she breathes through her nose.

“least you took it whole this time.” he continues, massaging the junction between her ass and back.

“yeah.” she agrees shakily, before inhaling sharply, clambering to begin rolling her hips. “fuck…” she moans out - not quietly - as she feels the cycle of emptiness and filling. her head falls forward as she struggles to move how she needs.

“can’t do it?” he mocks, the fake sympathy making her pout, as does the cocky smile on his face, “thought ya wanted it, sweetheart?” he chides, and she fights the urge to roll her eyes.

“shhh.” she says through gritted teeth, trying not to moan out too loud.

“hmm.” he hums softly, as if agreeing with her, “guess we’re stuck like this.” she wonders how he could be so casual right now, so, she asks him. he laughs, “why, ya boutta go crazy?” he teases. she bites her lip.

“you want me to beg.” it’s not a question. he shrugs, as if it were obvious. she sighs, squeezing her eyes at the sensation of him inside her, “please, please, help me, joel?” she asks with fluttering eyelashes, before remembering, “- or, sir?”

he growls, a satisfied smirk on his lips, before he grabs her hips, adjusting for more control. he fucks into her, slowly and gently at first, as she shudders and moans unabashedly at the sensation, “yeah, that what ya wanted, sweetheart?” he says, teeth gritted as he focused on his exertion - which became more apparent as his pace quickened and, proportionally, became more aggressive. she cries out, holding onto his biceps for any chance at grounding herself.

“joel!” she squeaks out, eyes wide, as she feels the knot in her stomach tighten desperately - hurtling towards orgasm, “joel - joel, joel-” it’s a mantra, and she squeezes her eyes shut, “gon-na c - cum-” she stutters out in a whimper, and a raspy, hoarse laugh leaves his lips, pace not faltering.

“g - good, sw - sweetheart, gotta do - do it with me-” his own voice betrays the sensations he’s feeling, and he pulls her head closer to him, breathing raggedly into her neck, placing the skin between his teeth as he feels her orgasm force her walls to squeeze around him and her body to shudder. a broken moan escapes her lips, right into his hair, and he squeezes her tightly to him as he reaches his own high, pulling out and finishing over her thighs. “fuck…” he breathes out airily, grip relieving around her as she pants against him.

she rolls off after a second, examining the damage on her thighs, “i - hah - i’m gonna use your shower.” she mumbles, clutching onto the bedpost for support as she shakily makes her way into the bathroom. joel watches her leave, smirking at her stride - akin to a newborn deer.

he can hear the water running behind the half-closed bathroom door, and a soft, satisfied sigh that leaves her lips as she steps under the showerhead. he looks back up at the popcorn ceiling, feeling lethargic and sleepy, which was not the best start for his day, but the view of her on top of him was worth it ten times over. he tries to remember, through his boozed memory, when he first met her - late last night.

the bar - his sanctuary - was practically empty, and he was sitting in a booth, sipping on a pint. sarah was at a friend’s house, and he wasn’t looking forward to the cheap grocery beer and leftover chinese takeout at him, ‘enjoyed’ with the soundtrack of some gameshow on t.v. he’d made the split second decision when he’d returned home to make the small trek to the bar just outside of the neighborhood, adjusting his eyes to the dim lights as he walks in. he greets the bartender - they’re friends - and that’s why he got his pint faster than the other guys waiting, even though he entered later. with a small grunt, he sits into ‘his’ booth, leaning back in comfort. it was near the back of the establishment, and he swore it had the most comfortable seats. he always sat here.

after a couple minutes of reflection - only broken by his sips or the occasional loud laugh of a patron - a woman approaches him, a recently-filled drink in her hand, “i was sitting here.” she says bluntly, making him look up at her behind the rim of his glass. he doesn’t say anything for a moment, taking a long swallow, before setting it down.

“pardon?” he asks quietly, and she immediately notices the familiar accent of a native. obviously.

“i said, ‘i was sitting here’. i just went to the bathroom. do you mind?” joel raises a brow, making an exaggerated show of looking around at all the other booths.

“ya don’t got other options?” he asks, though it seems more a statement.

“sure, but this one has-”

“- the comfiest seats?” he finishes for her, making her lips quirk into a smile,

“exactly.” he sighs.

“ya left it. whad’ya wan’ me to say?” he mumbles, taking another sip. she bites her lip, before shrugging.

“fine. i’ll just sit here too, then.” she responds definitively. true to her word, she slides in across from him in the booth, and he leans back, evidently not ecstatic at the turn of events.

“ya fr’m ‘round here, ma’am?” he finally asks, and she’s pretty sure it’s meant to hold the slightest implication of an insult.

“nope!” she responds proudly, hoping that’s the case, “and i’m hardly a ma’am.” she sighs.

“jus’ wanted t’be respectful.” he shrugs, but there’s a smirk that he hides under the rim of his pint.

“sure you did.” she grumbles back, sipping on her own drink.

“so, where do ya come from?” he’s not used to small talk, but for some reason, he’s curious.

“i’ve been in san jose the last few years.” he rolls his eyes a little.

“right. california. explains it.” she scoffs in indignance.

“hey! just ‘cause i’m not a redneck-”

“we ain’t rednecks, sweetheart.” she can feel a heat rise to her cheeks. sweetheart. that’s different.

“well, then. what are you?” she exhales, “or… i guess, who are you?” he takes another sip.

“joel.” she hesitates, before giving her name.

“sure you’re not a cowboy?” she teases.

“yeah, sweetheart. i’ve gotta horse, though.” her eyes widen, and she splutters.

“really?!”

“no.” her face falls.

“c’mon, man.” she grumbles, “that was mean.” he finally laughs.

“wan’ me to make it up ta ya?” she squares her shoulders, in faux offense.

“yes, please.” he smirks.

“good. c’mon, let’s get ya a drink.”

of course. one drink turned to a few. and that turned into a ‘i could hardly let you drive in this state’. that became a, ‘what if the taxi driver’s creepy?’, and that became making out in the back of said taxi.

poor driver.

he’s broken out of his thoughts by the sound of her stepping out of the shower, skin smattered in goosebumps as she looks for her clothes. finding them, she puts them on, before looking around the room a little awkwardly.

“uhm… guess i should be getting home?” she mumbles, and he notices the inflection of a question, like she’s waiting to be dismissed.

“hmm? yeah, go on. ya need a drive?” he asks, finally sitting up. she shakes her head.

“nope. i appreciate it.” she bites her lip, hesitating. how’re you supposed to say goodbye in this situation again? “i’ll see you around, joel.” she finally decides, and it immediately seems like the worst option.

he chuckles, and it embarrasses her further.

“yeah, sweetheart. see’ya ‘round.”

she doesn’t seem him around. at least not for the next three weeks. of course, why would she? she didn’t take down his number, his job, his… anything! all she had was his address - and she wasn’t a total fucking stalker. she sighs, relegating it to be one of the best - if not the best - one night stand she’ll ever have.

until she saw him again. at that same bar, in that same booth.

less words need to be exchanged this time. it’s lucky that he’s on the same page - he wants her.

it’s a few hours later, and she’s back in his sheets, chest against his side. he’s as warm and comfortable as she remembers. the house is as quiet as last time.

then it happens again. and again. and another time.

except, this time, the morning isn’t so quiet. she wakes up to the sound of a car pulling up. she wants to ignore it - presuming it’s a neighbor, until the front door opens. she sighs, poking at joel.

“are you expecting guests?” she asks softly, but he just doesn’t wake up, “joel!” she barks, and she laughs, at his shocked jolt up to awaken. he groans.

“the hell did ya do that f’r?” he grumbles, and she keeps giggling.

“someone’s come downstairs.” his eyes widen a little.

“oh. that’s my brother and daughter.” he immediately clarifies, and she hums. he looks over at her, “wanna meet them? can’t sneak you out at this point, so-” he begins to tease, and she swats at him.

“hey!” but she’s laughing a little, “yeah, sure. let me put some clothes on.”

a couple minutes later, joel comes down to greet the two who’ve just arrived. a few minutes later, she also comes down.

she’s his… friend, sarah, don’t worry.

tommy laughs at his brother’s explanation to sarah, and sticks his hand out for joel’s ‘friend’ to shake.

“nice to meet you. i’m tommy.”

“joel’s… brother?” she clarifies, shaking his hand. the two don’t look crazy similar, but then she sees how they interact. yup. definitely brothers. she introduces herself.

tommy and sarah like her.

mission success.

she’s coming over more and more. she meets sarah more and more. sarah really likes her.

and that’s when it starts to get real. the first time sarah asks for help with homework. joel just isn’t great with english homework, so she asks her father’s friend.

too real.

she wasn’t… ready for this kind of relationship. and since he had a kid, the moment she decided to commit, she’d have to give 110%.

and … what? she was just looking for a bit of fun! she couldn’t… oh, be a surrogate mother - she was a bad influence, for christ’s sake, as joel made sure to tease her about often enough.

and it’s a real shame. cause sarah’s a real sweetheart.

she’s sweating buckets when she’s slept over again. sarah’s at uncle tommy’s - his brother is also a sweetheart - and joel was jumping at the opportunity to invite her over

he’s making her breakfast. he’d never done that before. the most she’d ever gotten was coffee and - if sarah was there - some toast.

it smelled like eggs and bacon and sizzling fat, and her mouth watered.

but her stomach was queasy.

“what’re you doing?” she murmurs sleepily. he turns over lazily, pulling her to him to kiss the side of her head.

“what’s it look like?” usually she’d roll her eyes playfully. but she’s fidgeting with her knuckles. he notices. of course he does. “what’sa matter?” he asks, brow furrowing a little. she bites her lip.

“joel… where is this going?” he blinks in confusion, so she clarifies by pointing between the both of them. a smile stretches at his scruffy beard.

“know i shoulda done this sooner, but don’t always wanna jump the gun, what with sarah n’all. i wanna take you out, sweetheart. real date, real food. better than my shitty eggs.” he pokes fun at himself, but she doesn’t laugh. his smile drops. something must really be the matter. “you ‘lright, sweetheart? you mad this didn’t happen earlier?” he tries to coax and she swallows.

she’d just have to rip the bandaid off in one go.

“i don’t… think that’s a good idea.” she breathes out, and his lips curl into a confused scowl.

“huh?” she inhales sharply.

“i’m… not looking for a serious relationship.”

there’s a beat of silence.

another beat.

“did i do something?” he finally murmurs. a weird clench overtakes her heart.

“what? no - i just… have other things to focus on in my life right now. i’m… like - my career-”

she starts spluttering. it’s quite obvious that they’re excuses. joel wonders what he did wrong.

“you think i’ll hold ya back or somethin’, sweetheart?” he looks hurt.

“no - no, joel, it’s not about you…” he scoffs.

“then what is it, huh?” he sighs softly, running a hand through his hair. his scowl returns. angrier. “s’it sarah?” her face falls, and she looks away.

“joel, it’s not like that, i really care for sarah, she’s a great kid, it’s just-”

“you should go.” he mutters, and her stomach churns.

“joel, it’s not about sarah, you must understand how much more touchy commitment is when kids are in the mix-”

“you should go.” he repeats, voice gruff, but barely a whisper. she stares at him for a long moment, before grabbing her purse off the floor and rushing out of the door, feeling the disconcerting prickle in her eyes.

it’s a pain in the ass to get back home from his place. her bus ride is far too long - and worse, it’s decently packed, so she can’t even sulk and pout in peace.

why is she so upset? she broke up with him, dummy.

so why did she feel so… weird? her chest constricting, her stomach churning. she finally reaches her house after a short walk from the bus stop - far too cold a walk.

all she could bring herself to do at home was sit in front of the television, and the midday sun slowly set until the darkness of evening, forced her tired eyes to droop. they’d welled in tears intermittently throughout the day - when she’d remember the intensity of his passionate gaze, or the sensation of his scruffy beard cupped in her fingers. the tears were giving her a migraine, and she had to forcefully widen her eyes as she looked at the news broadcast on the t.v. later in the night.

though, as she paid attention to it, her eyes widened for an entirely different reason. the sounds of gunfire, combat and violence overshadow the newscasters voice, and her eyes trail over the graphic scenes shown on the broadcast.

she jumps out of her skin at the sound of screams outside the house - looking out to see people running around in the neighborhood. there’s a large crash in the yard, on her neighbor’s side of the fence, and she peers over in horror. seeing one of the… people? were they people?! wreaking havoc on her neighbor’s house, she gasps. but when one of them turn, and look straight at her with cold - lifeless eyes, she ducks back behind her couch. her eyes well with fearful tears as she feels overwhelmed by the sound of screaming and passing sirens.

after a moment - gunfire.

her eyes widen, and she rushes to barricade herself as best as she can, running up to her bathroom. out of the small window, she can make out distant explosions, fire, long traffic jams and…. chaos.

of course, that was the night that the world went to shit.

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕞𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 (drabble) - steve rogers x reader

complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | steve rogers masterlist

“𝕚 𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕚’𝕕 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕟’ 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖” - cardigan | taylor swift

words || 𝟡𝟘𝟘

summary || in which the reader sees steve rogers, her ex, in everybody

a/n || hey guys - it might just be drabbles for the next week, as i'm working on some larger projects! fingers crossed that by the end of the week, i will start posting for a series that i've been working on and thinking about for a while now. please enjoy! ➵ originally called ‘cardigan’

warnings || angst

the heavy smell of fresh-baked pastries wafted across the produce aisle, making me deliberately turn my head and hum quietly in content. quickly placing one last tomato into my shopping cart, i quickly made my way towards the smell.

the scent hit me like a freight train, as i turned the corner and faced the newly-filled shelves. a couple flakes from some of the fluffier pastries left a light trail on the ground. i ended up settling on a small bun, the soft cinnamon dust moving from the bun straight onto my fingers.

“those are good - was just thinking of getting one myself.” a deep, cheerful voice - with just the slightest hint of a boston accent - caused my eyes to widen and nearly made me drop my bun. i whip my head around.

a middle-aged, brunet man stood in front of me. white threads weaved in his short hair, and the hints of a beer belly poked at his torso. his rosy cheeks stole the show - however - stretched wide as he gave me a friendly smile. i breathed a sigh, and i didn’t know if it was one of relief or of disappointment.

i gave him a shaky smile, nodding.

“yeah, cinnamon buns are my favorite.” he stepped beside me, ready to pick out his own pastry, and, with a quick ‘have a nice day’, i moved towards the cash register.

it was starting to become a rather annoying habit. i’m sure a therapist would love to hear all about my new-found problem of seeing my ex-boyfriend in almost each and every stranger on the street.

i guess that’s what i get for loving - and leaving - captain america. america’s golden boy. as if it wasn’t already hard enough to see his face plastered on billboards, newspapers, instagram and twitter feeds.

and, of course, there was that one picture i still kept of the two of us - right on my bedroom shelf. the first time i took him to a club. he looked a little less composed than he did in any of his other public appearances, but i’d adored the hair-slightly-grown-out, stubbly look he had that night. even the jacket and white shirt he had on were a little disheveled.

i think it reminded me that he was just as human as i was. it could be hard, sometimes, to remember that - underneath all the pretty, all the buff, and all the hero that is steve rogers - he was still my steve. or, when i wanted to piss him off a little - my ‘stevie’.

i remember calling him that on that night, as the bartender asked what drinks we’d be taking.

“oh, nothing for stevie, here.” the bartender had quirked an eyebrow, and the exasperated sigh - bordering on a laugh - that escaped steve’s mouth made my own lips quirk into a smile.

i liked to tell myself that the only reason i kept that photo was because of just how good i looked in the figure-hugging blue dress i had on. but i also knew that, every time i’d let my eyes wander to it - his smile was the first thing they’d seek out, and stay on.

the first time, it was an almost scary coincidence.

i made my way back from a late shift - one i’d been covering for a coworker. the dark new york streets was not an atmosphere i was accustomed to - as i heard rowdy, drunken laughing from behind me, i nearly ran into the subway.

the train i took was almost totally empty. another girl - a blonde teenager with almost impeccable fashion sense - chatted away on her phone at the other end of the carriage, and one young man sat in the middle - headphones in and book resting on his lap.

i accompanied my fingers with a loose thread at the bottom of my shirt, and my eyes were glued to the window. as the train came to a halt at the stop right before mine, another passenger came in. out of the corner of my eye, i immediately noticed his broad chest and large frame. he was wearing a light blue shirt, and had a black leather jacket wrapped around his shoulders. my breath hitched as little bits of blond hair peeked out under a greyish-blue cap. he sat in the seat across from mine, occupying himself with his phone. my eyes snap up to look at his face more clearly - and i puffed out a breath from in between my lips.

it wasn’t him.

this guy’s nose was smaller, his chest was smaller, his hair was a dirty blonde, his cheeks were a little chubby and his eyes were some shade of hazel. my eyes snapped away when he cleared his throat - oops. he must’ve noticed.

i turn my head, bottom lip caught between my teeth in an attempt to calm down my racing mind. a glimmer of hope had crossed over my heart - but i had no clue as to why. even if it had been him - steve - what would i have done? regardless of our history - we also hadn’t seen each other in a couple months. what did i expect - a friendly ‘hello’, maybe a conversation on the weather?

i heard the name of my stop called as the doors opened - causing me to walk off the station and back into the cold night.

since then, it started happening with anyone over 6 foot, and with a mildly muscular build. then it was anyone with a deep voice - the sound causing me to to snap my head towards them and disappoint myself.

god, i hated him for making me like this.

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤 - steve rogers x reader

complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | steve rogers masterlist

"𝕞𝕣. 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨-𝕚𝕥-𝕒𝕝𝕝

𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝" - wires | the neighbourhood

words || 𝟝.𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader asks steve to make a promise

a/n || yes, it is long - and it will be sad. warnings before the divider are important, make sure to read through them. enjoy!

warnings || whew boy a lot of angst also: ➵ kidnapping ➵ a rape attempt ( nothing too explicit, but might be upsetting) ➵ human trafficking / mentions of human trafficking ➵ blood (not a lot, but it's there) ➵ violence ➵ bondage (non-consenual)

this stuff is seriously depressing and can be massively triggering; if you do not feel comfortable with aforementioned topics, please do not read.

if you are under 18 years of age, please do not read. this content is not suitable for minors.

you are responsible for your own media consumption.

more lighthearted warnings: ➵ ooc steve - steve's real weird in this one. if i'm totally honest, i think i actually just wrote bucky/a similar-to-bucky character and labeled them as steve so oops.

i could see the window fog up as i let out a soft breath. the car was eerily quiet, the only noises to be heard being the soft crinkle of clothing and the squeaks of the leather seats. that, and the short inhales we were both taking. i sneaked a glance at the man next to me - the one very intent on the street ahead of him, one hand softly resting on the steering wheel and the other loosely gripping the gearshift.

i played lightly with the hem of the short dress i had on. it was pale pink, just childish enough to cause a retch to want to escape every time i thought about it. the frills of the sleeves made my arms itch, but i decided against scratching them - worried i’d be damaging the ‘product’.

when fury had called me into a conference room one late night a couple days ago, steve rogers was one of the last person i was expecting to see. especially just him. sure, we were constantly on missions together, but there was almost always a mediator that accompanied us.

it started early in my career as an avenger. i was a bit of a stickler for the rules, whereas rogers, with all his experience, chose to do things his own way. through the others, i quickly came to the conclusion that he simply did not trust the intuition of director fury most of the time - always deciding that he had to take matters into his own hands.

i’d never been fond of his tactics, leading to many disagreements and arguments within those first few missions together. from there, it stemmed into near-constant bickering, and the both of us being almost disgustingly immature. so, seeing him here, alone, and without a mediator made me stop in my tracks for a second.

he didn’t say anything, so i surveyed the room from my position at the door. fury wasn’t here yet, and that meant either minutes of waiting in silence, or minutes of us sniding each other.

“you just gonna stand there?” i looked at him, hints of a smile gracing his handsome face. it seemed a standard question, but his tone made me want to punch him already. hey, at least i could say he started it, right?

“fury call you in here?” my question’s quiet, as i walk towards a chair across from him.

“nah, just wandered in.” he was having way too much fun - attempting to rile me with innocuous remarks. i decided to stay silent, crossing one leg over the other as i let out a low breath.

thankfully, we only stayed alone for another minute or so, with fury’s powerful stride being heard by the both of us seconds before he walked in.

“y’know, for a spy, you sure do make a lot of noise.” steve’s comment is directed at fury, and the director’s non-covered eyebrow raises.

“you know, rogers, for a soldier - you sure do disprespect your superior officers.” i opened my mouth to laugh, but snapped it shut, not wanting to anger the director further. i did shoot a ‘get fucked’ look at rogers, though, and he rolled his eyes.

“what’d you need from us, director?” my tone has a light layer of honey to it, yet fury remains unaffected. instead of answering, he slides a file at both of us. i go to grab it, but rogers’ longer arm allows him to swipe it up from under my hands. i scowl at him, and he smirks as he thumbs through it. as quickly as it appears, the smirk falls, replaced with a hardened look. i notice his jaw clench as he hands me the file. i grab it, trying to understand what had just happened.

when i notice the colored tab attached to the file, i immediately understand. the avengers compound’s files aere all well-organized, with different issues being different colors. illegal weapons trade was lime green. terrorism was red. extraterrestrials were blue, and so on. this file was yellow - which the filing system associated with human trafficking.

i skimmed through, absorbing information about a international ring operating in discreet locations in order to auction off unwilling participants. as i looked at the stats, i noticed that the large majority of victims were kidnapped or coerced women between the ages of 14 to 25. i placed the file back down, the both of us looking at fury silently - ready for further instructions.

“intel says they’ve got one of these underground auctions at a bar on the other side of the city tomorrow night. i need you two to infiltrate, record incriminating evidence and allow us to arrest them.” i look at the file for a second.

“infiltrate?” the word is a bit weak coming from my mouth, as i already know the answer to the inherent question that i’m asking.

“you will be going undercover. rogers will play the role of the seller, while you will be the person being sold.” i sucked in a sharp breath. the moment i saw the target demographic, i knew exactly how this mission would transpire. however, i wasn’t as worried for my own safety - instead, worried that the moment i got into a room with any of the buyers, i’d snap their neck.

rogers, on the other hand, had an expression of shock on his face.

“nick, you can’t be serious.” fury gave him a quizzical look.

“what are you talking about? this is a standard undercover op.” rogers goes to retort, but snap his mouth shut, stealing a glance at me before looking at the file again. taking it as a sign to continue, fury does, “you two comb through the details. operation begins at 1900 hours tomorrow, and you two will be the only ones initially going in.” he nods, taking our leave and exiting the room with the same powerful stride he walked in with.

i look at the floor, wondering if rogers’ll say anything.

he doesn’t.

there’s a silence, before i rise from my chair. i turn once before leaving, and all i see is him with a far-off look in his eyes.

the details had been supplied to us 3 hours before our departure. as were our outfits, a soft, small pink dress and similarly shaded heels for me. paired with light butterfly clips, as well as rose pin that was tucked into my hair - i looked the part of a naive, innocent girl. i felt a rush of emotion go to my head as i looked into the mirror, disgusted by the underground world i would have to become a part of soon. to complete the look, i opted to leave the bruises i retained from training visible, and had a bandage adorning my temple - fake blood lightly dabbed on the edges. as morbid as it sounded, i had to at least look like i’d put up some sort of fight.

i stepped into the car, feeling uncomfortable in every position i sat in. rogers sunk in next to me, dressed in a suit and tie. his beard was trimmed, and he work rose-colored shades. he was playing the role of a notorious businessman - some millionaire who was said to supply victims to this demented business as a side hustle. ‘quentin damascus’ - pretentious bastard.

the drive was silent, with him focusing on driving, and me focusing on making sure none of my accessories came loose. in fact, i hadn’t even noticed we had parked in front of the club until rogers clicks his seatbelt off. tearing my eyes away from my dress, i look to my left, just to see him already looking at me. he’s got a concerned look - softer than any others he’d ever given me.

“you can handle this, right?” i roll my eyes at him.

“you underestimate me.” i see him go to open the door, but i remember something that i’d been meaning to talk to him about, “wait!” he turns back immediately.

“i need you something from you.” he’s silent for a moment - lips in a thin line, before his oh-so-familiar smirk graces his face again.

“what? you need protection, princess?” the name is far from endearing - fully meant to set me off. but, instead of making me scoff, complain or roll my eyes, it makes me let out a soft laugh. suddenly, the energy in the car is so much more normal, and i find myself wanting to stay there for a second longer, before everything becomes serious again.

alas, it’s not to last.

“i don’t need protection. i need a promise.” his brows knit together, a little confused by the statement.

“a promise?” i smile. for a super soldier, he’s a little slow.

“yes. a promise.” he thinks about it for a second, before shrugging his shoulders.

“alright, then. what do you want?” i similarly pause, trying to find a way to organize my thoughts.

“look, i know you’re a little hot-headed, and you like to do things your own way, and that ‘back-up’ isn’t really in your dictionary, and-”

“your point?” obviously, my attempt at organization doesn’t work, and he cuts off my ramble with a firm question.

“right - yeah. uh, i’m gonna need you to - well, i need you to promise me that you won’t do anything - dumb?” his face twisted into indignance, “no - not dumb. but, like, don’t make any rash choices. i’m going in there as bait, and i don’t want to end up as the main course - alright?” his face becomes a bit more serious, a hint of anger in his blue eyes.

“so, you want me to wait for back-up?” he tries to make my request as clear as possible.

“exactly! i know you’re skilled, steve - trust me, i do. but you can’t handle a bunch of armed men, i promise. so i need you to wait. if not for your sake, at least for mine.” he sticks his hand out, and i look at it in a bit of confusion, “wha-”

“shake. never shook someone’s hand before?” now, i do scoff.

“shut up! besides, you don’t shake for promises.” i ignore his hand, holding out a pinky instead. he looks at it, a soft smile threatening to stretch over his face.

“can i pretend i don’t know what that is?” i grin, before grabbing his hand and adjusting it so that our pinkies interlocked.

“promise?” for as childish as the situation is, his face is solemn.

“promise.”

the club is hard to navigate, the dim lights not doing us any favors. he slipped his hand into mine, ensuring neither of us got lost. it was a weird sensation, being this close to him, but not uncomfortable. if anything, it was nice. for as secretive as the operation must have had to be, it was surprisingly easy to get into contact the middle-man who was escorting the buyer - my buyer. the thought made me shudder, and steve must have noticed, as he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

i saw him slip a note to one of the bouncers, likely with all relevant information and, within minutes, we were sitting in a lush v.i.p. lounge - red velvet adorning the walls of the large room. i kept my eyes glued to the floor, knees together and hands crossed over myself - playing the clueless victim as best as possible. steve moved a couple inches from me, not wanting to seem too invested.

we both whipped our heads up at the sound of the door creaking open. a short, thin man wearing a business suit and nursing a drink in his hand stepped out first, a toothy grin on his face. he was closely followed by a much taller man, with a solid build and rings adorning his hands. his suit had gold buttons, and his frown was even more menacing than his acquaintance’s smile. the second man’s gaze lingered on me, the low-cut nature of the dress allowing an ample view. i felt a blush creep up to my cheeks, shocked by his blatantness. i tore my eyes away from him as i heard the first man’s throaty laugh.

“damascus! good to see you again.” i turn to look at steve, a small smile curling at his lips. he raises from his seat, stepping forward to shake the man’s hand.

“you too, clark.” the man - clark takes his hand eagerly, before stepping aside to introduce the second man.

“this, damascus, is my good friend jonathan drake.” steve presses his lips into a tight smile, going to shake drake’s hand as well. he’s doing well so far, “so, you said you had another one for us? mr. drake here - well, he’s been itching for something new-”

“something fresh.” drake finishes for clark, a small but unsettling smile on his face. i can feel a pit in my stomach - disgusted by what i was hearing but trying not to show it.

“well, then, it’s your lucky day sir. this one’s right off the mill - just like you want her.” drake nods appreciatively, and i bring my eyes to lock with his. he uses a finger to beckon me over, and i rise, walking over as slowly as possible. for a minute, he does nothing but scan my appearance - judging his soon-to-be investment. i keep my jaw clenched, trying not to burst. finally, he lets out an appreciative hum.

“what’s your name?” he’s looking at me, but i don’t look back, continuing to face forward.

“whatever you want it to be, sir.” i pitch my voice higher - responding in correspondence to the character i’m playing. drake rises an eyebrow, obviously impressed.

“wow, damascus. how long’d you train her for?”

“two months - she was harder to crack than most.”

“i can see that.” he brings his pale fingers to my hair, and i resist the urge to flinch. he pushes some stands out of my face, placing a thumb over the bandaid on my forehead.

“nothing permanent - though.”

“good.”

i can hear the men continue to speak, but i start to zone out - trying my best to disassociate from the situation. i snap back into reality when i hear steve clasp his hands together.

“right then, gentlemen. pleasure doing business for you.” he lightly touches my shoulder, an innocuous action to the other two men. however, as i feel ten distinct taps at my shoulder blade from his thumb, i realize what he’s trying to discreetly communicate.

‘back-up’s 10 minutes out’

i let out a quiet, shaky breath, knowing this will all be over soon. that breath is cut short by drake grabbing at my waist from behind me, following clark as we’re led out of the room. we twist through the club slowly.

drake’s pawing at my dress greedily, obviously uncaring of clark’s presence. as he pulls me closer to his body, i notice the stark outline of a gun at his trousers. i gulp quietly, and he smiles, noticing that i’d noticed. we pull into an office, with the name ‘clark’ engraved neatly on the door. clark takes a seat at the desk, gesturing to the two seats in front of me. drake sits in one, and i go to sit on the other, but the man quickly pulls me into his lap. i cringe again, now feeling the outline of something that definitely wasn’t his gun. i fight the urge to vomit, or cry, or both, deciding to close my eyes and count down the seconds until back-up arrived.

in fact, i was so far in my own world, i didn’t notice drake’s hand slowly crawling up my leg. as i feel the cool metal of his rings reach my thigh, my eyes snap open. i look back at him in shock, but he’s too focused on my legs. i feel my breath become shallow and fast - as i once again try to ignore what’s happening.

456, 455, 454, just 453 seconds to go…

i let out a squeak as one of his fingers graze my inner thigh, his other hand squeezing my hips in reaction to the sound. it’s so quiet that only he hears it - not even clark does, although he was less than a meter away from us.

or so i thought.

steve, who’d been tailing us since we left the lounge, thanked erskine for his ability to hear everything that was going on. he picked up more information about the natures of the dealings from the casual conversation that drake and clark had maintained.

then, he heard my squeak. suddenly, all rational thought exits his mind - and the only thing he’s thinking about is getting me out of there.

he rams the door open, causing both men (and, subsequently, me) to jolt up to their feet. steve’s got a pistol in his hand, aimed at the men, and a butterfly knife at his waist. i look at him in shock - wanting to scream at him - but the moment is short-lived.

clark pushes drake and me out of the way, drawing his own weapon at steve.

“go.” it’s a breathless whisper to drake, and he executes the order immediately - making sure to clutch onto me for dear life as he navigated towards a back entrance. i counldn’t see anything, but i winced at the sound of gunshots, a groan and the sound of someone slumping over.

he manhandles me into a car, locking the door behind himself as quickly as possible. i watch in shock and horror as he starts moving further away from the club. from the corner of my eye, i can see government vehicles driving towards the location. our back-up.

i felt my tears well at just how close this was to being a success. had steve waited two minutes, we would have been putting these two criminals behind bars. instead, now he may have been shot and i was being driven to god knows where.

i gulped, my heart thumping and my ears burning. then, realizing drake was still driving, i hit at his hands, trying to restrict them in order to gain control of the car. i manage to crash my elbow into his nose, a pained grunt escaping him as i attempt to unlock the doors using the button next to his legs. before i hear the click of the door unlocking, though, i feel him slam my head against the steering wheel.

the action kncoks the wind out of me, rendering me blind and weak for a few moments. taking the upper hand, he slams my head against the wheel again. then again. and again.

my eyes flutter shut at the immense pain, a trickle of blood narrowly missing my eye. i can feel my body stiffen, my mind go blank, and my limbs going limp in his lap. i gasp out a low breath, before the limited vision i still had went black.

i came to on a comfortable surface, linen sheets cool against my still-flushed skin. i gasp out a breath as my eyes flutter open - the memories of what had happened flashing through my head as i tried to adjust to the dim light of the room. i move my hands to rub my eyes, but feel a strong resistance cut me off. my head rolls to the side, and my eyes widen - becoming much more focused - as i see a length of ribbon tying me one end of the headboard. i turn my head to the other side, and, sure enough - my other hand is similarly attached. i scramble to sit up, resting my head against the headboard as i take shallow breaths to calm myself.

i tried to find silver linings - at least i was still clothed, at least my legs weren’t tied, and at least i was still alive. considering he must have known this was a sting operation, i’m honestly shocked i haven’t been disposed of in the hudson yet.

i try to focus my mind on any and all positives in this dire situation instead of thinking about how blatantly i’d been betrayed - and how rogers’d broken his promise so easily. i wondered if that was his plan the whole time - to completely dismiss me. i was in this position because of him. because of him.

i’m so lost in thought that i almost don’t notice the soft sound of the door clicking open. it’s to the left of the bed i’m sitting on, and i have to crane my neck and squint my eyes to see through the darkness. drake has something in his hands, a sinister smile on his face. i gulp lightly - unable to make out the weapon in his hand.

this is the end.

he nears, and i close my eyes. maybe i can disarm him using my legs - maybe if i kick him hard enough-

“open your eyes.” i don’t want to listen to him, but i wasn’t ready for him to become more angry. i comply, and he’s just a bit in front of me. i squint, and i realize that it’s not a weapon in his hand - it’s bandages. i knit my brows in confusion, my mouth hanging open in light shock. he sighs, using a finger to point at my head, “i need to redress it.” i try to understand what he means, and then i remember the blood that had fallen from my head. of course i’d started bleeding, and the reason why it didn’t hurt like a bitch was because he had treated it.

but, why would he? why would he waste his time trying to help me when all he was going to end up doing is killing me?

i let him peel off the bandages already placed there. as he redressed it, he let out a low hum.

“y’know, damascus promised that you were obedient.” i can’t focus on his words, as i feel a strong sting on my scalp, “but that’s alright. it was all a shock, you must’ve just got a bit spooked. wanted to make a break for it, eh?” i suddenly realize the mistake i’d made.

he had no clue that i was part of a sting, and still believed that i was the doting girl that he had been promised. i let out a little exhale of shock.

“did that hurt?” he misinterpreted the noise, and i just nodded to keep him satisfied. “i gotta say,” he continued after a minute, retracting his hands from my scalp, but letting them linger at my temple. he pushed some hair out of my face, “there’s gotta be something real special about you if damascus was putting up so much of a fight.” i sucked in a sharp breath at his insinuation, and he only smiled.

suddenly, his hard gaze made me feel significantly more uncomfortable. he noticed my squirming, and started laughing.

“you willing to let me see what that is, princess? let me see what got him so riled up?” the word slips from his mouth without a care, and suddenly - his mocking tone sounds eerily familiar. his fingers place themselves on my thighs - attempting to push them apart. i snap them back shut, raising my feet to see if i could get a good enough blow in. he scowls, using a strength that shocked me to grasp my ankles and place them down, “you want me to tie ‘em? cause i will.” i immediately shake my head.

“no! no- no, please don’t do that.” he hums, as if considering the proposition, “look, i’ll stay still, just don’t tie me up, please.” my wrists had started burning, and i wasn’t willing to let my ankles face the same treatment. he smiles again, dropping my ankles and waiting a second to see if i kept my word. i do, and he continues with his mission.

with a leering smile, he brushes the pads of his fingers up my legs - slowly, as if to tease me, as if to say ‘look, i’ve got all the time in the world’. i shut my eyes as he passes my knees, and i can tell he has a frown on his face.

“open them.” with some hesitation, i do. the skirt of my dress is riding up with his hands as he brings the further up, finally coming to the flimsy material of my undergarments. he lingers there for a second. not caring about what he wanted anymore, i shut my eyes, the feeling of tears welling under my lids. there’s a lump in my throat. he hooks his fingers over the thin fabric and starts pulling down, and i feel a wetness on my cheek - tears beginning to fall in rapid succession.

before he can drag them, a loud crash comes from outside the ajar door at the other end of the room. judging by the noise, i could assume it came from a floor above us. the sound was quickly followed by shouting and animate speech.

“shit!” drake mutters from in front of me, before turning to look at me, his eyes widening, “you! you fucking whore - fuck, i should have known.” with my arms restrained, i can do nothing except shout for - who i assumed were - my back-up to come into here and apprehend him. but, knowing my plan, he whipped towards a drawer next to him. the shiny metal of the gun he pulled out of it was far too close to me for my liking, and his disgusted scowl ensured that he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.

in fact, i was sure that he would have done it, until he realized that i was his only leverage in this situation. cursing under his breath again, he turned to face the door - gun still pointed at me. the gaggle of people had finally reached us, shouts outside the door as they came closer. i gulped - knowing that my fate - my life - was in the hands of this bastard.

the door was pushed open further, and i could see 3 people there. the one at the front was a high-ranking soldier, who i had seen on several other missions as a means of firepower. behind him stood someone who i couldn’t see. finally, next to the other soldier, i could see rogers’ towering frame - still in his disguise, the material bloodied and dirty.

“hey there, damascus. i should have guessed, you don’t look like a damascus.” rogers gritted his teeth, but drake only continued, “what’re you gonna do, huh? if i’m going out, she’s going with me- fuck!” he was about to start a monologue, but the soldier cut it short by shooting drake’s wrist, making him drop the gun and collapse. i could see specks of his blood on my dress, and it just made my tears fall harder.

rogers grabbed drake by the throat, securing high-grade handcuffs to his wrists. i could tell that he was being brutalized by rogers’ words, a string of threats and insults falling out of his lips shockingly easily. but, i couldn’t hear any of it. my whole body was numb - i couldn’t feel the pain, the bandages, the fabric of my clothes, nothing. my cheeks were wet, but i couldn’t tell if my tears continued to fall.

rogers threw drake at the other soldier, and i could feel him nearing me. he lightly touched my arm - and everything snapped back into place. maybe too well, as i could suddenly feel the coarseness of the frills again, the blood drying on my thigh, the throbbing of my head. worse, i couldn’t bear to have rogers touch me, the pads of his fingers strikingly similar to those of drake’s, and his touch a lingering reminder of his betrayal.

realizing my predicament, the third person finally came into view. i sighed - never thinking i’d be more relieved to see maria hill’s face. she replaces rogers’ hands, lightly untying the ribbon and rubbing my arm until i was more aware and responsive.

“hey, hey. you’re alright - you’re fine,” she tentatively shifted my head so i could meet her gaze, “look at me, there. you’re fine. we’ve got you.” i nod slowly. she helps me off the bed, leading me out of this hellhouse.

i had quietly requested to sleep off the experience, craving the comforting feeling of my own room, my own things, my own bed - i needed some reassurance that i still had autonomy over my being. but, upon seeing my wound, hill had insisted that i could go, after a night in the infirmary. too weak and too tired to argue, i simply nodded, allowing her to lead me to a hospital bed in a sterile room. a young nurse treats my wound, but i can’t pay attention to the procedure, my weariness overpowering the stinging in my scalp. i drifted into a fitful sleep after she’d left.

i awoke, the sunlight streaming into the room casting on the wall opposite me. as i blinked, i noticed rogers’ dazed figure on a chair next to me. realizing i’d woken up, he scrambled to his feet. he took my hand in his, but i pulled it away. i couldn’t even look at him, worried that if i did, i’d start bawling, or screaming.

or both.

his expression shifts to one of regret, clearing his throat.

“you feeling any better?”

“yeah, i guess so.” i don’t want to look at him, so i focus on the plain grey t-shirt he has on.

“uh, nat and sam wanted to visit, but they got wrapped up in something - and nick swung by earlier-” i raise a hand to stop him.

“please,” my voice cracks, “i want to be alone for a bit.” i try to say it as non-confrontationally as possible, but i still see his face twist into one of sadness. he pauses for a moment.

“don’t - don’t do that.” i finally look up at him, and i can see the familiar shine of tears in his eyes, “don’t shut me out. i’m so sorry, i should have listened to you, i’m such an idiot. but don’t shut me out-”

“why shouldn’t i?” i snap at him, my breathing picking up a little. he stumbles over his words a little, unable to come up with a reasonable answer, “i asked you to do one thing - one fucking-” my voice cracks, and i feel my eyes well, “one fucking thing, and you can’t even do that. i ended up with that monster because of you, i nearly got raped because of you. i don’t want to fucking see you again, not now. and maybe never.” his eyes widened, choking as he realized just how astronomically complicated this situation was.

“don’t do that, please, i’m so sorry-” he was begging, a tear slipping down his face as he went for my hand again. i started feeling my heart rate rise, and i knew that if he continued, i’d break.

“stop it. steve, stop it!” my voice rises, finally alerting the nurse, who came rushing into the room. upon noticing my distress, she turns to steve.

“mr. rogers, please get out. she needs to heal, and she can’t do that right now.” steve didn’t budge, prompting the nurse to pull him off me. using a firmer tone, she tells him to leave. his gaze lingers on me for another moment or two as he is ushered out of the door.

i can hear the beeping of the heart monitor - which had become loud, fast and incessant - slow down, taking deep breaths to calm myself. when i’d said it, i didn’t know if i actually meant that i didn’t want to see steve.

but now, i realized i’d never be able to look at him the same anymore.

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕓𝕪𝕖, 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕 - steve rogers x reader

complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | steve rogers masterlist

“𝕚’𝕧𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕞𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕞

𝕚 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕓𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖”

- i don't want to set the world on fire | the ink spots

words || 𝟙.𝟙𝕜

summary || in which steve gets his priorities straight

a/n || re-watched endgame and have a massive hate boner for what steve did at the end. that, paired with my normal boner for chris evans birthed this fic. enjoy! and request if any one has something. ➵ originally called ‘i don't want to set the world on fire’

warnings || fluff

the sun shone over my eyes as i attempted to keep my focus on the book in front of me. it was a new one, steve must have picked it up in the - well, in the 5 years i apparently hadn’t been here.

god, that’s insane.

being gone for five years - seeing everyone so different. bruce’s change was the oddest - but seeing pepper and morgan had also been shocking. i choked through tony’s funeral, paying homage to nat as well - at least, i tried to get to everybody in the short time since the battle.

i’d found myself, after all this time, sitting right on the bed i’d disappeared - died - at. i’d found it odd - almost as if i’d just woken up from a long nap, but didn’t think too much of it. what was even odder was steve’s frantic voice through my phone - the device jumping and vibrating on our bedside table. i’d picked it up leisurely, assuming he’d been calling to tell me to order some food, or to tell me he’d be back in a bit.

“hello? hello, y/n, are you there?” i blinked a little at the aggressiveness of the question.

“yeah, steve, i am. ‘s everything alright?” i heard him let out a long sigh - still confused as all hell - before he laughed lightly.

“oh, thank fucking god.” i barely heard him swear, so it shocked me - further indicating something was amiss.

“steve, are you good - where are you?”

“i’m on my way, sweetheart. just - talk to me, will ya?” i scrunched my nose.

“talk to you - about what?”

“anything - just needa hear your voice.” i sighed, hesitantly talking about what we could order for dinner when he got back.

he stayed quiet, letting me speak.

he’d explained everything that night. it’d been a week, and i still couldn’t get over it. but, had been standing in front of me - more weary than i’d ever seen him - with some of the worst battle wounds i’d also ever seen.

that told me that he had to be telling the truth. he’d refrained from telling me specifics - especially casualties - for another few days, but finally conceded when i realized he’d avert his gaze every time i mentioned nat or tony.

he was a different man - he’d become a different man over the past few years. but, when he held my hand over the table as we ate dinner, i knew he was still my steve.

he’d left early in the morning, saying that there were just a few more things that he had to do before we put the nightmare behind us. i’d asked - repeatedly - to come, but he’d said no every single time. he’d sighed softly as i kissed him goodbye, muttering a worrying amount of ‘i love you’s in my ear as he left.

and, just like that, i was back to worrying about him instead of reading my book. deciding the endeavor was fruitless, i started weighing my options as to how to pass the time, when i heard the front door click open once more.

i walk towards the door slowly, and - he looks tired. other than that - i distinctly remembered him leaving the house with his shield. he had returned empty handed. i stopped my pondering as his eyes finally met mine, and he softly smiled. i sighed softly - my mind had conjured all sorts of worrying scenarios - but, here he was. in one piece. i let myself fall into his chest as his arms collapsed around my back. we stayed there for a moment, before i broke away.

“you scared me.” his smile widened.

“i’m good at that.” i laughed a little, walking inside as he followed.

the evening was normal, save for a solemness that steve tried to hide every time i talked to him.

i finally cornered him on the couch after dinner, climbing onto the cushions beside him.

“steve?” he hummed in response, running his fingers through my hair absentmindedly, “where’d you leave that shield?” his fingers tensed in my hair, and i turned to look up at him.

“what’re you talking about?”

“i know something’s bothering you. and i know you didn’t come back with that shield. what’s got great, big captain america so riled up?” i say the last bit teasingly, poking him lightly in the chest.

“no - i…” he started speaking, but stopped just as quickly, “i’m not captain america anymore.” the confession made my eyes widen.

for all the time we’d been together - the captain america that steve represented had been key part of his life, one that took priority over everything else.

at least, that’s what i thought.

“you - you what?” he sighed deeply, adjusting us so we were facing each other on the couch.

“i’ve done my service, sweetheart. i couldn’t do it forever.” i nodded slowly.

“but,” i tried to be soft, non-judgmental. i wasn’t judging him at all, really, just genuinely curious, “i thought you were captain america. and he was you.” he sighed.

“no - well, he was. god, there was a time where i was nothing without that shield. but, now - i think i realized something.” i stay quiet, prompting him to continue, “i was living for so much more than that shield. and i was neglecting everything else because of it. i guess, i had to lose my everything to realize she meant so much more to me than it.” i’m nodding along, until the last bit. i try to process it, before my mouth falls. i look up, and he’s got a shy smile on his face, “i lost you. and i realized that i needed you more than anything. that would’ve never been the case with the shield, so…” he trails off, and i’m still looking at him in shock. i’m torn between wanting to tackle him into an embrace, or berate him for his priorities. i finally found my voice.

“don’t tell me america’s lost its protector because of…” i didn’t want to say it, but his smile only widened.

“don’t worry, i’m sure sam’ll be a great protector.” i let out a sigh of relief, knowing that the mantle still existed and was with someone competent.

then, i tackled him.

he grunted in shock as we fell to one end of the couch, his head in my hands as i peppered small kisses onto him.

“i love you.” i mumble into his skin. he smiles against mine.

“i love you, too.” i finally rise above him, seeing the soft, happy look on his features.

“you’re so sappy, y’know.” my finger pokes at his chest, before he takes my hand and places another kiss to my palm.

“you love it.”

a/n || okay putting this at the beginning kinda spoils it but for those confused:

this is an au where the only difference from endgame is that steve returns as normal steve after returning the stones, but still gives up the shield. steve's time with peggy and returning as an old man has been rewritten.

[uselesssomebodylibrary]

𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 - steve rogers x reader

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“𝕤𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥

𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕝𝕦𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕤𝕥 ” - apocalypse | cigarettes after sex

words || 𝟙.𝟠𝕜

summary || in which the reader finds peggy's picture in steve's locket

a/n || i'm sorry the ending sucks i liked the concept but forgot i had to create actual plot with it so it's cheesy ughh anyways enjoy and request if you want ➵ originally called ‘apocalypse’

warnings || fluff

yellow light seeped into my room through the small crack in my blinds, causing the wall across from the bed to bask in a mellow hue. i rubbed my tired eyes, having woken up only a couple minutes ago. i wasn’t used to waking up by myself - usually, his hands would find their way into my hair and on my cheeks, soothing me awake and whispering quick goodbyes to my groggy self. before i’d have the opportunity to wake up fully, he’d be slipping on his coarse leather jacket, and would rush out of the door.

off to save the world.

i knew so many people would kill to be me. dating captain america - it’s a dream. but it didn’t come without its quirks. not seeing him enough because of his work, having to be away from him while he’d be on missions for weeks at a time, always worrying when a new gash graced his handsome face as he trudged through the door.

yesterday night was one of those times. after three weeks of the house to myself, the sound of the front door creaking open made me jump. his loud, thumping footsteps, paired with the look of perpetual discomfort on his face, described exactly how well the mission had gone.

as much as my soothing words and quick hands took away the limp in his step and the blood from his wounds, his expression of exhaustion didn’t budge. his collapse onto our bed was less than graceful, and i smiled lightly as i slid in with him. his arms reached around me, his strong frame cradling mine. his head rested near my stomach, his feet dangled off the edge - his tall stature barely fit into the bed when he propped his head on the headboard.

my hands found their way into his his golden hair, lightly running my fingers through it. the deep steady breaths i felt against me told me he was out like a light.

i pushed myself up a bit, craning my neck to the side to check on steve. his body had was splayed widely across the bed. i always teased him about the fact that our bed wasn’t shared - the amount of space i got to myself was more of a charitable donation from him. i admired him - his face had been cast in a light yellow glow due to the sunlight. it highlighted his eyelashes, and his eyebrows were furrowed slightly. his mouth hung agape. one of his arms draped over my stomach, heavy against my body, while his other clutched the necklace on his chest. the circular, golden thing was plain, but he quite liked it - barely having taken it off in all the time we’d been together. he fiddled with it often - whenever it did appear draped over his shirt instead of hidden under it, he’d bring his fingers to it, pressing gently or sliding his thumb over the metal. he did the same thing in his sleep, his hand moving slowly, but surely, over the piece of jewelry.

i started feeling the hoods of my eyes go more heavy. the amount of peace in his expression made the want to sleep contagious. i yawned, reasoning that i wasn’t busy today - and that i had woken up earlier than i need to. squishing my face further into my pillow, i placed my hands over the arm on my stomach, closed my eyes, and sought sleep once more.

by the time the both of us had properly woken up, the clock on my desk read 12:49. we had breakfast for lunch. i rapidly gulped down my cereal - not realizing just how hungry i was. steve chuckled a little at my actions.

“you’re givin’ me a run for my money, hon.” i rolled my eyes at the comment, before smiling at the endearment. his super-soldier appetite was one i’d had the pleasure (or displeasure) of seeing on quite a few occasions, one that always ended with a very long and rather expensive trip to the grocery store the next day. his voice was still somewhat hoarse from when he’d been sleeping, and he slid into the chair next to mine, pushing his slices of toast into his mouth.

he’d decided to take a quick shower in the evening, still feeling the remnants of the mission linger on his skin. i’d grabbed my phone, perching on top of the couch and scrolling with little aim or intent.

a couple of minutes had passed when i heard a faint call through the walls. getting up, i walked towards the bathroom.

“steve?”

“hey - grab - my clothes - forgot them.” his voice was muffled, but i managed to decipher his request. i hurried to the bedroom, and saw a shirt and pair of sweats crumpled on the edge of the bed. as i gathered the fabric in my hands, i heard a small clinking sound at my feet. reaching down, i realized i’d accidentally dropped his necklace. i quickly grabbed the thing, the metal cold against my fingers. i walked over to the bedside table, ready to place it there, when i realized that there was a small gap between the metal.

a feeling of panic surged over me when i, for a moment, believed i’d broken something so precious to steve. bringing it into a better light to examine it, i realized that it wasn’t broken, but was instead open.

one of the pieces of metal covered something small - some sort of paper inside the pendant. i sighed in relief, realizing that the necklace was, in fact, a locket.

“y/n?” i jumped, nearly dropping the thing again. i quickly gathered his clothes more securely and, after placing the locket down, i rushed to the bathroom. he thanked me quickly, and i heard the shower knob squeak shut, and the sound of rushing water stopped.

i thought about going back to scrolling through my phone, but i ended up finding my way back to our bedroom. my curiosity got the better of me, as i sat on the edge of the bed, once again examining the piece of jewelry. using the top of my thumb, i flicked it open, the metal flap snapping perpendicular to the photo.

it was a worn, black and white photograph. a gorgerous woman faced me, her small curls elegantly draped over her shoulders, and her lips quirked into a soft smile. her eyes were piercing, and i could almost feel her gaze, even though it was a photograph.

i was so invested in the photo - so confused as to who she was, how steve knew her, why he kept her photo so close to his heart (Iiterally) - that i didn’t notice his footsteps as he made his way to me.

“y/n? what are you doing?” my eyes snapped up to look at him. his hair was still slightly damp, and his handsome features were contorted in shock. “why’re you looking at that?”

“who is she?” the usual embarrassment i’d feel at being caught snooping was trumped by my confusion. his eyebrows were raised and his eyes were wide - his mouth hung open, but no words came. “steve?” i tried again.

“she- i, uh - she’s my-” he stammered, unable to formulate an answer. he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, stilling his body. “she was a friend.” he says it quietly, his voice quavering over the last word.

“friend?” my lips curl up into an involuntary sneer - he must have known that was the least convincing thing he could have said, no?

“she was my - ugh.” he dropped his arms, his shoulders following them, and relaxed his posture. he took long steps towards me, small droplets of water untangling from his hair and falling onto the floor. he sat right next to me - closer than necessary, and reached over to cup his hands under mine and find his own grip on the locket. he didn’t try to take it away from me, though, instead opening it further and pushing our hands up to allow the picture to be placed under a better light. “that’s peggy.” his mouth was right above my head, and his words muffled slightly into my hair.

“peggy.” i repeated it slowly, drawing the name out. him sitting with me and talking so delicately wasn’t what i’d expected - but i couldn’t ignore his initial flustered reaction. “who is she?” he breathed deeply, sighing again.

“she was my first love.” my hands tensed around the locket. he must have noticed, as he immediately tried to soothe me by gently rubbing one of his fingers over my thumb. he continued quickly, attempting to answer my eminent questions, “in 1943. she’d helped with the serum and the selection process.” he paused, giving both of us a second to think.

“why do you have this? why’d you keep it?” my voice waved a little over the second sentence - sure, it was a unique situation, but why did he decide to keep his old lover’s locket? a wave of insecurity washed over me, but i kept myself from continuing speaking - unsure if the feeling was justified or not.

“when i woke up a couple years back, she - well, she’d already lived her life. look, it’s the only thing i have to remember my life back then. before the crash.” his voice became softer and softer, and by the end of his sentence, it was barely over a whisper, “i mean - did you think it was because i still love her?” he turned me gently, lifting my head to look at him. i tried to avoid his gaze.

“it’s this gorgeous woman in a necklace you never let go of - what was i s’posed to think?” my jaw felt hesitant to move, so my words come out a little garbled. i feel a slight pressure on my chin, so i finally look at him.

he has the hints of a smile on his face, “remember what i said? first love. when i came out of the ice - i thought i’d never find someone like her. but d’you know what happened?” i gulped in response, “i found you. remember the first time i saw you?” i smiled a little - i did, in fact, remember, “i thought you were the prettiest thing i’d ever seen. i couldn’t get enough of you.” his sighs, our faces so close that i can feel the exhale, and smell the small hint of mint on his breath, “and i know it’s been harder recently but - god, the way you make me feel? i’ve never felt that before. 20th or 21st century.” i sink my head, giggling at the stupid joke. he cracks a smile too, before leaning down to gently press his lips against mine.

in that moment, i remembered why i loved this man so much. and i knew that he felt the same.