#whisky x pizza

[janer055]

WHIZZA PUPPETS PT2

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

[3.4K] title from ‘too sweet’ by hozier, just a stressed out steve, a willing girlfriend and a lot of filth. written in two hours and not edited in the slightest i’m sorry do not perceive me.

As sour as Steve had looked when he came home from work, he tasted twice as sweet.

He’d called you on his lunch, voice strained and low and you could picture the stitch between his brows, the downturn of his lips as he grumbled to you down Family Videos landline.

Robin was off sick, Keith was in a foul mood, two kids came in and stole a copy of a porno that was sitting behind the desk and the return pile sat at the height of Steve’s waist.

“Can’t wait to come home,” he had sighed down the line, voice rough and mournful and making your thighs squeeze together just right. “Wanna see you so bad, y’know?”

And you did know.

It seemed to take an age before you heard his car pull into the driveway, brakes squeaking slightly because the rent on the apartment came before any repairs to the BMW now. It’s why you’d poured a whisky for him, neat and no ice, no water, just the way Steve liked it. You considered dinner, home cooked and waiting on the kitchen table but something else took hold in your thoughts.

You could order pizza later.

So Steve came in the door with his shoulders slumped and his keys rattling from his fingertips, his green work vest already discarded and probably balled up in the backseat of his car. That frown was there, the one you’d wanted to soothe away all day for him, creasing at his brows, turning down the corners of his soft and pretty lips.

He thawed when he saw you, barefoot and in an old sweater that was too big for you, legs naked and your skin still warm from the shower you’d taken your time in. Steve held out a hand, groaning in delight when you stepped to him, all soft smiles and softer sweater, allowing him to pull you into his chest. His noises were doing things, rough sighs and low moans that made you think with what was between your legs, his purrs vibrating from his chest to yours as he curled his arms around your lower back.

It was easy to return the affection, pushed onto your tiptoes as you carded your hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, the smell of his cologne that you watched him spray that morning barely clinging to his skin. You nosed at his throat anyway, everything about him smelling like home and when Steve let out a low grunt at your adoration, you used one hand to pull at his jaw, bringing his lips to yours.

It was more than an average kiss ‘hello’. In fact, it made his brows shoot upwards and his breath hitch, the arm still around your waist faltering before he caught up with the pace you had set and tucked you in tighter to his body. He let you lead, eyes fluttering shut as he sighed softer than he had all day, letting you steal the noise and keep it for yourself.

Steve fell pliant for you, pretty lips giving in to yours as you kissed him slow, needy, lazy. Your tongue traced the seam of his mouth, teasing, testing, his breath ragged when he opened for you, trying to catch up. You pulled away then, pleased with the rosy cheeks and blown out pupils that stared back at you.

“Go sit down,” you told him, voice soft, quiet. There was a spell cast, not to be broken, not until Steve did too. “I’ll be through in a second.”

If Steve knew what you were up to, he didn’t say. No questions asked, the boy blinked and stumbled into the doorframe before righting himself, heading for the sofa. You’d long switched the television off, the lamp by the armchair dimmed low, the candles you liked to collect all lit and scattered across the coffee table and the fireplace mantle.

You returned with his whisky, the glass glinting amber in the candle light, your smile too coy. Steve raised his brows as you handed him his drink, his gaze too caught on your bare legs. He reached out for you, warm palm travelling up the back of your thigh, wide enough to curl around it and bring you between his knees.

Exactly where you planned to end up.

“What have I done to deserve this, huh?” He asked, whisky on one hand as he leant his chin on the soft of your stomach, eyes wide and dark as he looked up at you.

You scoffed, soft and light, your hands carding through his hair. You pushed it from his forehead, nails scratching at his scalp, beaming when he closed his eyes like he couldn’t help it, lashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks. “What? Bring you a drink?”

Steve hummed, distracted. “Was thinkin’ more along the lines of deserving you.”

Love sick, that’s what you felt. An awfully sticky thing that glued itself to your heart at his words. You didn’t know what to say, especially not when he was looking at you like that again, all brown sugar eyes, honeyed and soft. So you bent instead, nose bumping his before you stole another kiss, gentler than before, lingering and as sweet as him.

You let him take one sip of his whisky before you dragged his shirt from his body, hair wild as you pulled it over his head, cheeks flushed and eyes surprised.

“What—?”

You didn’t respond, merely dropping to your knees instead and popping the button on his Levi’s. Steve swore, a dirty, throaty sound that made your stomach flip because you knew that he knew where this was going.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Fuck. You don’t have to do that—”

The sound of his zipped caught in the air, the rest of the evening quiet. The closed curtains and the flicker of the candle light made the small living room feel even tinier, a warm bubble where you could hear every little noise Steve made for you. His hand travelled up your forearm, fingers curling at your elbow and squeezing. Steve looked half gone already, lip parted and shiny from your previous kisses and you knew he’d taste like cedar and smoke now.

“What if I wanna?” You told him, pouring, just a little. Because what man could resist a pretty thing like you on your knees, lips soft and begging? You pushed yourself up, leaning into the space between his hips, your mouth skimming along his jawline, tongue licking into the corner of his mouth all sweet. It was barely a kiss, but it was somehow dirtier. “What if I told you I wanna make you feel better? That I’ve been thinking about your cock in my mouth all day?”

Steve groaned, falling into you, head on your shoulder, teeth biting down on the junction of your neck. “Fuck— baby. Baby, y’cant, you can’t just say shit like that.”

You grinned, amusement hidden from him as Steve continued to mouth at your throat, nose nudging down the collar of your sweater so he could kiss more skin. “I can’t?” You asked.

“Gonna make me lose my fuckin’ mind,” he mumbled. He lifted his head then, cheeks pink and eyes looking heavy lidded, pupils black and too big. He looked delirious on you. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed heavily, tongue licking at his lips. “You really been thinking about that?”

You nodded, making your eyes a little too wide, too innocent, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and it was a cheap shot, an easy target— but fuck, it worked every time. Steve’s hand slid to your ass, lifting your sweater out of his way and squeezing a plump cheek, only your underwear to be found underneath.

“So can I?” You whispered, mouth parted, brushing against his. You shared your breath with him, nose pushed to his warm cheek, hands coasting over his thighs as you prepared to tug down those too tight jeans.

Steve sounded too breathy when he answered but he still played your game, too far gone or not. He was watching your mouth when he spoke, transfixed by the pink gloss there, the way he could see your tongue between them. “Can you what, honey?”

You smirked.

Steve knew what you were asking. He just wanted to hear you say it again.

“Can I suck your cock?”

You heard it then, the hitch in his throat, the too harsh exhale. Steve looked at you like you were everything, like you’d hung each star and you were ever wet dream all at once. Lips pressed together to deal in his moan, his filthy words, he nodded, hair falling into dark eyes. And when he trusted his voice, albeit rougher and lower than before, he spoke.

“Yeah, honey, go ‘head.” He lifted his hips when you tapped them, jeans and boxers shoved down just enough for his cock to spring free, already hard and hitting his stomach. “You’re so— you’re so fucking sweet, y’know that?”

You smiled, all coy, faux shyness as you leaned your cheek onto his thigh, denim and coarse hair against your skin. Steve gasped when you wrapped a small hand around him, fingers barely meeting around his girth and you stroked once, twice. “I am?”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer before your tongue followed, a lazy, wide lick from the base of him to his tip, already dark pink and slick for you. Steve’s hips canted up, head thrown back against the cushions and you adored the way you got to watch his jaw tense, neck straining as he calmed himself down.

“God,” he blew out a breath, eyes trained on the ceiling because if he looked down and saw the way you were kissing a line up his cock, he’d fucking lose it. “Yeah, baby. The sweetest, Jesus Christ.”

You took it easy on him then, easing him into it until his shoulders sagged and his head tipped back up, his pretty face more flushed than ever but Steve watched you as you took him into your mouth, his jaw unhinged as you sucked the tip of him, licking over his head.

His hand found the back of your head, holding but not pushing and he groaned something fierce when you scratched at his bare thighs, nails dragging over the muscle there. “Tha’ s’it,” Steve moaned, unabashed, totally gone. “Keep suckin’ me, honey, yeah— please. Can you take more, huh? Take a little more for me, please, baby.”

You didn’t need to be asked, begging or not, but it certainly made it all that sweeter. Steve’s hand was cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over the corner of your mouth as you widened it, tongue licking out over his cock as you took more of it into your mouth, inch by inch until he was touching the back of your throat. It made the boy go a little wild, gasping and panting, curses mixed in with praise that was filthy enough to make your own toes curl.

“Holy shit, jus’ like that, yeah,” Steve was slurring, words meshed together in a quick mumble, his breathes too heavy for him to care. “You feel me in your throat? You’re so fuckin’ good for me, babe, Christ— yeah, yeah, lemme see your tongue, yeah. Stick it out for me, honey, oh shit—”

You did as asked, pulling back with wet eyes and warm cheeks, your lips shiny from your efforts. You kept a hand around Steve’s cock, slowly pumping him as you stuck your tongue out flat. You knew what he wanted, it was why his cheeks were so pink, the tips of his ears too. Something he found too vulgar to ask for, always scared you’d shy away from it.

You never did.

You tapped the head of his cock against your tongue, the wet slapping sounds nothing but pure filth, your own breathy noises too much for him. Steve could barely keep it together, eyes screwing shut as he bucked upwards, swearing and groaning something awful as he watched his cock slide over your tongue. You let him move, hips thrusting as you held him to your mouth, parted lips slipping over his shaft, and warm tongue tracing the throbbing vein down the length of it.

“M’gonna come,” Steve gasped and he was shaking his head, hips pressing back down into the safety of the couch and he sounded overwhelmed, eyes glassy. “Fuck, no, no, no— I—”

“No?” You pouted, understanding. Pulling away, you leaned up again, wet lips sliding over Steve’s and he kissed you feverishly, tongue licking into your mouth to search for your own. He groaned, whining when you squeezed a hand around his cock. “Too much? You don’t wanna come yet, huh?”

Steve shook his head, hair falling into his eyes and his chest was heaving, his hands curling around your sides and he was pulling at your sweater, lifting it from your frame. “No, no— shit, not yet, please.”

You let him strip you, sweater discarded by his own shirt and your bare chest only made him swear a little more, eyes on your tits, your peaked nipples and suddenly he wanted nothing more than his cock between them. He felt drunk, delirious, suddenly too happy to care about how quickly he came.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he told you with a very serious expression. His hands travelled up, palms cupping your breasts, thumbs flicking over each nipple with careful precision. “M’gonna die and it’s gonna be because of you and your mouth and those tits and—” Steve choked on a laugh when you did, lashes fluttering as you took his cock back in your hand. “—and m’gonna be a very, very happy man.”

Grinning, you rolled your eyes at his declaration, as dramatic as they were. He was as hard as steel in your grip, his hips rolling up into your touch and didn’t want to wait much longer, his poor cheeks bright red with the exertion of holding back. So you gave him a kiss, light and sweet, too sweet for the current situation but it made Steve all the more wild. You were murmuring low and soft to him, holding his cock to your tits as you stroked him, words whispered between cute little pecks at his lips, his warm cheeks.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“You wanna come, handsome?”

“Mhmm.” A whine more than a word. “Please.”

“Where do you wanna come?”

A swear, guttural and hoarse. A twitch of his dick at the thought of his options. “Fuck, I— uh, I dunno.”

“Here?” You asked him sweetly, pushing his length between your breasts, rubbing your own nipple so he could watch it harden again. “All over here? Paint me nice ‘n pretty?”

Steve couldn’t form words now, which was exactly what you’d wanted.

Your mouth made its way to his ear, voice dropping lower than before. “My mouth?” You whispered. “D’you wanna come in my mouth, Stevie?”

A jerk of his hips, a whine and a grunt as his cock kicked up once more. He was so fucking close. Steve let his forehead fall to your shoulder, too hot and too helpless and too fucking desperate. He clung to you, hands wrapping around your bare waist and he didn’t know what he wanted more. He could sit back and watch you drop back down to your knees, pushing your pretty tits together as he jerked himself onto them, knowing he could watch the way he dripped down your body.

Or he could get you to open your mouth, pink tongue back out and waiting, you doe eyed and watching him. He always got dirty with that, asking you in the sweetest voice to let him see it all in your mouth, asking you to swallow it like a good girl before showing him your clean tongue after.

If Steve didn’t choose he was going to fucking explode.

So he tugged at your waist, gasping as he wrenched himself from you, falling back into the sofa. He took his aching cock in his own hand, pumping it once before squeezing tightly, willing away the need to come right there and then. He patted his knee, his eyes glassy and hooded as he looked at you.

“C’mere, baby, come sit.”

You did as told, happily, easily, willingly. Your own chest was thundering, excitement itching at your too warm skin because whatever Steve wanted you’d give him. Your thighs were slick, underwear sticking to your folds in the most obscene way because Steve’s sounds were too much to cope with without being touched too. He looked a riot, the prettiest kind. His hair mussed and cheeks flushed, lips pink and slick from your kisses, his eyes a little wild.

He helped you onto his lap, legs spread over his knees and his dick standing hard and to attention between you both. You waited patiently for his instructions, to hear what he wanted from you and Steve let his head fall back onto the cushions once more as he watched you from hooded lids. His jaw was flexing with each stroke he gave himself, hazy gaze roaming over your tits, your stomach and then lower.

And then—

“Lemme see you, baby?”

Your stomach flipped. A sweet voice, a prettily asked question, some filthy words. You smiled at Steve, lips twisting to hide your absolute glee because you knew what wanted, what he wanted to do and you were more than happy to give it to him.

You didn’t say anything as you hooked your fingers into the crotch of your underwear, gasping a little at how wet they actually were. You tugged them aside, white cotton stretched over your skin as you held the material away from yourself. With your spread thighs, you let Steve have the filthiest view, all glistening skin, a swollen clit between wet folds. You didn’t look down, you didn’t have to. You could hear the slick, fast sounds of Steve fucking his own fist, his frantic, hitched breaths.

“That’s it, yeah,” he sounded gone, drunk. “So good—”

Instead you watched him watch you, his eyes set on your pussy, gaze on fire as he enjoyed the show and when you swept your fingers over the centre of your folds, Steve swore, his free hand on your thigh clutching you tighter.

“Dirty girl,” he murmured, his teeth catching his bottom lip. He was close, you knew he was. “Such a pretty pussy, Jesus Christ, can’t believe I was gonna come without gettin’ to see her.”

You hummed, all delight and amusement. You cocked a brow even though Steve was still staring at your spread legs. “I’m dirty?” You cooed. “You’re the one who’s gonna come all over my cu—”

And he did.

Steve came with your name on his tongue, making it sound like the dirtiest, holiest thing you’d ever heard. He was gasping, choked sounds leaving his pretty lips as he fucked his fist, come spilling over his knuckles and onto your folds, leaving you and your underwear even stickier than before. His head fell back onto the sofa as he caught his breath, an impossible thing with his heaving chest but you curled into him almost immediately.

You let go of your stretched out underwear, your own breath hitching when you felt the warm, stickiness cling to your cunt. Steve pulled at you as you moved closer, your hands soothing over his jaw and cheeks, thumbs rubbing over his flushed skin as he kissed you, head lifting lazily, moaning at your touch, your lips, the feel of your bare stomach pressing his half hard cock to his own.

He was sticky with it all, with sweat, his own release, your affection and touch.

It was too much and entirely not enough, not of you.

Steve’s lips clicked as he pulled them away from your own, albeit grudgingly. You tasted sweet, like strawberry lipgloss and him. He was still panting when he spoke, his messy hand held away from you as he took your chin in his other. His thumb pulled at your bottom lip, swollen from all your efforts and he watched the way it popped back into place, making you smile.

“M’gonna finish my whisky,” he mumbled softly, eyes searching yours. He was met with excitement, knowing, a whole lot of adoration and fondness that he felt for you too. “You’re gonna check my pulse—” you laughed, too bright and joyous for the gloomy light of the room. Steve grinned, cheeks aching. “And then we’re gonna go upstairs and I’m gonna return the favour.”

[curiositydooropened]

Power's Out

My hand slipped this morning. This is for @sweetsweetjellybean because her power's out and she deserves it.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Wordcount: 1442

Warnings: making out, Eddie Munson is a cock-block

Navigation • Masterlist

---

Third day of Spring and you were wrapped under a comforter and three quilts. Your feet were shoved into wool socks and tucked under you for warmth. Your poor fingers only escaped the blankets to earn you a sip of water or to turn the page on the steamy novel you’d been reading.

Luckily Snowmageddon provided ample lighting when your windows were open, sun cascading in rays off the snow.

You snuggled in tighter, brow furrowed at the main character bickering with her love interest, when you were startled by a knock at the front door.

You glanced down at the tangle you’d trapped yourself in, and then back up at the door when the wrap of knuckles grew more frantic.

“Alright,” you heaved yourself from the couch. “I’m coming.”

You slouched to the door, wearing the comforter like monk’s robes. Peering through the peephole, you found a set of broad shoulders and a mess of dark hair.

The door opened with a burst of frigid air, and Steve grinned, holding up a to- go box. His legs bounced from the cold, canvas tennis shoes dipped dark wet from the snow. “Pizza delivery.”

You stepped aside to let him in, a familiar grumble matching the flip in your stomach when you saw who had arrived.

The pizza smelled amazing, and most importantly warm.

“Power’s on about two miles from here.” Steve explained, stripping out of his shoes and jacket before carrying your lunch to the kitchen to serve on plates.

“Lucky bastards.” You grumbled, peeling a cheesy slice from the grease- stained box before he had a chance to dirty another plate. He offered you one and you waved it away, taking a large moan-inducing bite.

Steve tucked his head, and you noticed the reddening of his ears as a smile split his features. “That good, huh?”

“So fucking good,” you nodded, mouth full.

His smile was shy, sweet, and he leaned against the counter across from you, ankles crossed. “I’m glad.”

He looked tall like this, in your kitchen, long limbed. His hands dwarfed the pizza slice as he careful dipped his head forward for a bite. You hadn’t remembered him looking so... big the last time he was here.

Well, that’s a lie.

You felt your face warm, tucking into another bite, forcing your eyes away from his hands and the curve of his throat as he swallowed.

The last time he’d been here, you’d had power, though you hadn’t used it. Stumbling in from a St. Paddy’s celebration, with matching top hats and shamrocks painted over your tits on your T-shirt. Steve nearly tripped backing over your couch, and you crawled on top of him to pull a Kelly green sweater over his head. He tasted of whisky and beef, and he moaned into your mouth as his large hands palmed beneath shamrocks and tangled themselves into your hair.

You coughed to clear your throat, too big of a bite taking up space in your cheek like a chipmunk.

“Cups?” Steve gestured at a cupboard near the sink.

You nodded, mopped grease from the corner of your mouth and wiped crumbs on the leg of your pajama pants.

You blinked and glanced down at your attire. You were an adult woman, and why you owned a pair of pajama pants with cows jumping over the moon, you’d never know. But you made a mental note to burn them after this. At least your hoodie qualified your alma mater.

Steve filled two glasses from the sink and offered you one before taking a large gulp from his own.

Without the buzz from the refrigerator, the house was painfully silent. So much so that your ears began to ring as you sipped your water and washed down the rest of your slice.

Steve set his glass on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. His ankles uncrossed so he could slide a socked foot to yours. “So other than a power outage, how’ve you been?”

“Good, yeah, good.” You stammered, but your face reflected the smile growing on his.

“Good.”

He’d rested closer to you, just a step away, and if you were brave enough, you’d cross the little linoleum tile and curl your hand around his tricep.

You cleared your throat again, smiled. “How about you?”

He grinned at that, uncrossed his arms. They were longer than yours, and he was brave enough to loop gentle fingers around your wrists. “I’ve been really good.” His thumbs brushed circles into your forearms, and he tugged you ever- so-closer.

“That’s good,” you replied, a little breathless.

He hummed, face tilting to just meet yours. His amber eyes begged for permission, and one large hand came to meet your throat. His thumb continued its ministrations on your job. “I’m even better now.”

You hummed in agreement, falling into the warmth of him, sturdy and propped against the counter. The comforter fell from your shoulders, and a shiver wracked through you at the whoosh of cold air it offered.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all week.” He confessed, thumb and forefinger idling at the earring in your ear lobe.

You leaned into his touch, fingers grasping at the forest green sweater covering a broad chest. “So kiss me then.”

His lips were softer than you remembered, the frantic removal of clothing the weekend before only allowed room for teeth and tongues and moans. Now was less frantic, sweeter, the press of his mouth to yours as one hand tucked around your waist to hold you even closer. God, he was blissfully warm.

When he pulled away, you found yourself not wanting it to end, and you chased his lips until his muffled moan entered your mouth. Then, you were like jelly, pliable under his fingertips.

A sturdy hand tangled into the hair at the base of your neck, and he opened your mouth with his tongue. His other hand pressed you tighter between his thighs, against the bulge in his jeans.

“This okay?” He breathed, but you caught his lips again in your response. You trailed one hand down his chest to meet the tent of his pants.

He moaned louder into your mouth, tugging at your hair to expose your throat to him. He curled over you, pressing sweet, damp kisses to your pulse points, fist balling around the fabric of your hoodie.

Your free hand found his hair.

“We should slow down,” Steve’s voice was strained, rough against your sternum, but he made no move to stop. “Want to take you on a date.”

“You can after.”

You gasped as he adjusted, wedging his thigh between your legs and rolling your hips against the rough denim. You murmured his name and coaxed his mouth back to yours.

Warm hands found bare skin beneath your sweatshirt. They fanned the expanse of your back and rib cage, held you tight, safe.

He kissed you slow and sweet, like he had, releasing your lower lip with a pop to stare down at you. He was smiling, pupils blown. His hair stuck up at odd angles.

“I’m serious.” He said, and the tenderness of his gaze made you squirm. You fought to wipe the grin off your own cheeks.

“Me too.”

Then came the pounding at the front door.

Steve released you, both of you clutching at the countertop in surprise.

You held one finger in apology, frowned, and crossed the living room for the front door.

When you leaned forward to look out the peep hole, the pounding started again, followed by a familiar voice. “It’s fucking cold out here, will you just let me in?!”

You glanced back at Steve, who waited patiently by the kitchen with a large frown furrowing his brow.

With a sigh, you opened the door to find Eddie Munson with a large to-go bag of Chinese food. His nose and cheeks were red from the cold, and he lumbered past you without saying hello, a waft of black leather and snow.

“Did you know the power’s on like two miles from here?” He unwrapped the scarf from his neck and toed out of heavy leather boots.

You coughed and scratched at the back of your neck as you watched the exchange between house guests when Eddie finally looked up to find Steve waiting in the kitchen, arms crossed over his broad chest.

Eddie’s lips quirked up into that wolfish grin, shaking damp hair from his eyes. “Well, I’ll be dammed, Harrington. Isn’t this a surprise?”

With a sigh, you closed the front door and rested your forehead against the frigid metal. This was going to be a long day.

---

Hope your power comes back and you have a better day, Jelly, my dear xoxoxo

[indigo-starcatcher]

CROWN APPLE

Dom!Jake x Reader

Oooohoho, my first smut. So exciting, and a little nerve-racking so please give me your feedback! Enjoy yourselves some filthy Jake, hoes. 😌

MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Dom!Jake, alcohol, weed (if you squint, I guess), slapping, spanking, unprotected penetration (wrap it to tap it, ladies [GN]), cursing. If I missed one, my bad y'all!

Summary: You hit up a Kiszka party to visit with long-time friend, Sammy. Jake unabashedly hates your guts. Or does he?

The familiar burn crept up your throat as you threw your head back, shot glass to your lips. Crown Apple, your whisky of choice.

You had always been a close friend of the Kiszkas, growing up in Frankenmuth and being in the same year as Sammy. You two were good friends all throughout school - you had even exchanged elementary Valentine's. Backyard bbqs, swimming playdates, backyard baseball - you had a million memories in the Kiszka home, and cherished all of them.

That was years ago. Nowadays the boys were really successful with the band, and seldom found themselves at home; they were either touring, or stuck in the studio. Whenever they came home though, they made sure to invite you to every gathering, every party. You were still Sammy's best friend. They all adored you, welcoming you with open arms.

Everyone that is except Jake. You didn't know the reason; he'd never given you one. You just chalked it up to the philosophy that not everyone gets along with everyone, and shrugged it off. Even so, you brushed paths with him on the way into the party, and he never turned down the opportunity to verbally jab at you.

He paused you in the doorway, a snide smirk curling his lips. "You again, Y/N? Don't you have your own place?"

His voice was raspy, and he stood close enough for you to smell the woodsy cologne he'd bathed himself in. It was a bit flustering, though you didn't want to it admit it. You weren't Jake's biggest fan, either.

He continued, a cockier smile turning up the corners of his mouth. You could've sworn you caught him quickly eyeing you up and down. "Or do you not have anything better to do than trail behind my brother?"

As you set your shot glass down on the Kiszkas downstairs bar, Sammy drunkenly staggered over to you. Slinging his arm over your shoulder, he dotted a quick and earnest kiss on the side of your head.

"Heyyyyy, kiddo!!!". His breath smelt of beer, evident by the one he was tipping in his hand, the hoppy smelling drink splashing and flicking little droplets from the top of the bottle.

"I am soooo glad you made it tonight!!! I - hiccup - I miss game nights with you while we're off touring!! HEY let's go race in the yard right now, huh?? whaddya say I think that sounds fun ooh Joshcantimeus..."

His words started to slur together, and they trailed off in your mind as well. You were distracted - you could feel hot eyes burning into you from across the room. Jake leaned against the wall next to the sliding door that led to the patio, a glass of whisky neat swirling in his hand. As your eyes met, he raised a questioning and sarcastic brow, as if to say "can I help you?".

You responded with a small eye roll and returned to Sammy's drunken ramblings.

"Hey, love!" You chirped back enthusiastically. "I definitely wanna race, but I think you need some bread and a lil nap first, okay??" Sammy looked down to you with a toothy smile, eyes blinking one at a time.

"YKNOW. I could -hiccup- I could go for a slice!!"

Eagerly grabbing a slice of pizza from the bar countertop, he sauntered lazily away from you to the couch. He only made it through one bite before falling asleep, the rest of the slice spending the night on his black, low-cut t-shirt.

You giggled to yourself, and grabbed a slice as well. That's when you noticed Chris, one of the band's roadies, had joined you at the bar.

Beer in hand and a tipsy smile on his face, he began to flirt very openly. He asked about your hobbies, how long you'd been friends with Sammy, the works. You found yourself giggling and genuinely enjoying the conversation, flirting as you felt yourself getting tipsier by the minute, nursing your own glass of neat whiskey.

That's when you felt that same familiar feeling: a stare laced with venom. This time from out on the patio, you locked eyes with Jake. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were filled with fire. You furrowed your brow as you watched him throw back a full glass of alcohol in one impressive gulp. "What is his problem?" you thought to yourself. That's when you noticed, the seal was beginning to break.

"Chris! Will you excuse me for just a sec? I'll be right back", you called down to your potential suitor over your shoulder, finishing your sentence as you made your way upstairs to the Kiszkas bathroom.

Washing your hands, you heard footsteps stamping their way up the wooden basement stairs, but thought nothing of it. You left the bathroom and closed the door behind you, only when you spun around, there he was. About a foot from your face, Jake stood. The surprise of his presence backed you against the closed door.

He raised up an arm to prop himself up next to you, leaning confidently against the door frame.

"Y'know," he started, a deeper rasp in his voice than normal. He was close enough that you could smell the whiskey and weed that lingered on his breath. It was intoxicating. You hated yourself for thinking that, but you couldn't help it. His entire aura was hypnotizing. "I really hate you."

"Yeah, off to a good start, Jake", you retorted as you tried to work your way around him. He quickly held up his other arm. They were bordering you on the door frame now, blocking you in.

"But what I hate more, for some God damn reason..." he whispered, only inches from your face now,

"...is seeing any other man try to do what I could do so easily."

"Oh? And what's that, Jakey? Make a complete ass out of yourself?" You threw the words back at him with half-hearted malice, laying the sarcasm on thick.

Jake was a beautiful man. His hair cascading down his shoulders; his low cut shirt that displayed his doubloons like gold stars, bouncing against his bare stomach with every movement. He made you nervous, it was true, but your disdain for him was more powerful.

"No," he said back in a gentle, hushed whisper.

Pausing his words, his pointer finger found its way to your clavical. It trailed ever so lightly up your neck, to your jaw, to your chin, where the soft touch subsided. He squeezed your jaw in his hand, tilting your chin up to meet his cocky gaze. Spitting back through gritted teeth, he snarled as he spoke:

"Make you cum, sweetheart."

In an instant he turned you around, pinning you to the door. With one hand, he held yours behind you, pressed them against the small of your back. His other hand trailed softly but confidently from your calf, up in between your thighs slowly, searching for your core. You could feel the wet heat soaking through your panties as he steadily moved upwards.

"Jake. Don't. Someone will see, someone's bound to come upstairs." You only half-worriedly replied. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about this before.

"Fuck 'em."

Shoving your panties over to the inside of your thigh, he slid in two fingers to the knuckle and curled them, motioning for you to come here in the filthiest of ways. A soft moan started to escape your lips, but not before Jake could stamp his free hand to your opened mouth.

"I love a nasty sound from a nasty whore, but shut the fuck up unless you want the entire party up here."

To Jake's surprise, you quickly turned around to face him, a soft but firm hand landing on his throat, gently squeezing at the sides.

"Then do something about it, Jakey".

A wicked and filthy grin curled his lips over his beautiful white teeth, his deep brown eyes blown out with lust. You'd flipped a switch in him; you weren't sure what you'd gotten yourself into, but you knew you were along for the ride.

"Oh, sweetheart." He whispered arrogantly, softly removing your hand from his throat. Taking your cheeks in his hand, he squeezed hard enough for the pads of his fingers to draw a small ache from your cheekbones. He leaned in, an inch from your face. His hot, whiskey-soaked breath could've gotten you drunk.

"You shouldn't have said that".

With a swift movement, he bent slightly to wrap his arms around your legs, tossing you over his shoulder with ease.

"Now you're stuck with me, you sweet little slut." As a punctuation to his threat, he brought down an open-handed palm to meet your right ass cheek. A surprised yet excited moan escaped your lips.

"Calm down, Y/N." Jake commanded, striding hastily down the hall to his bedroom. "The fun hasn't even started yet". You could hear the smile in his statement.

He threw open his bedroom door, closing it behind him with a kick of his Chelsea boot. He brought down his hand to your ass one more time before throwing you down onto the bed, landing with force.

He crawled over top of you, gold chains dangling and tracing little circles on your heaving chest. You were already soaked through, the throbbing heat crawling up into your pelvis.

"Y'know, I've thought about this before..."

His thumb brushed over your lower lip. "Filling this pretty mouth with my cock just to get you to shut the fuck up". He brought his hand up from your lips to lay a soft but firm smack to your cheek.

Your mouth opened in a small "o", riding the line between pain and pleasure.

"Good girl, you knew just what I wanted," Jake praised as he slid two fingers into your mouth, letting them linger on your tongue. Satisfied, he began to remove them, but you pulled them back into your mouth with a hard suck, making deliberate eye contact. You weren't afraid. You wanted more.

"You're filthy", Jake muttered, almost admiring you. His hate for you hadn't subsided, but he was impressed. He liked a challenge. You released his fingers and he brought them to his lips, sucking on them, not allowing his eyes to shift from yours.

"Crown Apple?" He smirked. "One of my favorites."

In a hasty movement, he flipped you over onto your stomach and lifted you up by your hips. His pelvis inched forward to meet yours, pressing into you. Even fully clothed, you could feel his hard length through his jeans.

"Jake, please.." you begged. You needed him. You'd come to terms with it. You hated him but you absolutely, desperately needed him.

"Please, what? Use your words, sweetheart."

"Please...Jake I need you," you whined.

"As hard as it makes me when you whimper, I need you to tell me what it is that you need." Jake was amusing himself; he enjoyed when you squirmed.

"Please. Jake. Fuck me. Do whatever you want with me."

"I thought you'd never ask."

He reached forward to shimmy your panties down around your legs; you had thanked yourself for wearing a skirt, allowing him easy access. As he freed you of your lace garments, he brought them up to his face, allowing himself a small inhale. His eyes rolled back into his head, and let out a small sigh.

"Those stay with me, sweetheart." He said, stuffing your panties into his jeans pocket. He could feel himself twitching under his denim; he couldn't wait any longer. The very sight of you, dripping in front of him, had tricked a trigger.

He unbuttoned his jeans without hesitation. Shimmying them down to his knees with his boxers, his length sprung free, resting against his abdomen. With one hand he wrapped around his base, slowly and deliberately stroking. His other hand reached forward to cup you in his hands, desperate to feel you drip down onto him. A raspy moan escaped his lips and his head fell backwards.

"My sweet, nasty little slut. How badly do you need me?"

"I need you Jake." You begged. You could feel yourself throbbing. "I. Need. You. Fuck me."

With your command, you felt him slide in to bottom out. He was warm, and wide. He stretched your walls and hit you in places that hadn't been touched, sending little electric currents down your widened legs.

"Oh, fuck," He whispered behind you through gritted teeth. "My little slut, you're so tight." When did he start using the word, "my"?

His slams into you hastened, his moans growing louder with every movement. His length slid almost all the way out of you, only to re-enter with more force. You could feel the familiar knot growing and tangling in your hips, along with an unfamiliar - yet intoxicating - tightening that tensed with every thrust.

"Jake, I..I think I'm going to.."

A pornographic string of moans grew and ripped from your mouth. Jake leaned forward to stifle them, suctioning his palm to your open mouth. You came hard, along with a waterfall release that you'd never experienced before. It flowed from you, soaking Jake's cock and dripping down onto his sheets.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, that was so fucking hot. Oh, fuck. I'm, I'm.."

Jake couldn't finish his sentence before you felt him twitch, his warmth filling you to the brim. Sent spiraling by the mixture of each others releases, another knot rose up from within you. You finished together, trailing off in a string of signs and moans.

The two of you collapsed down into the bed together, where he remained on top of you and inside of you. He propped himself up on his forearms, wiping away a sweat-soaked and disheveled strand of hair from your forehead. He leaned down, his lips meeting your ear.

"You should come over more often, sweetheart."

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Returns and Reruns ||

Frank Castle x Matt Murdock

Tags/warnings: sort of hookup, ongoing whatever this is, oral sex, anal fingering, anal sex. E.

A/n: Fratt Fratt Fratt Fratt Fratt Fratt Fratt... For @bernthirst-events Filthy Friday, could be filthier I guess :p

It had been a while, but Matt would recognise that scent anywhere. Subtle woody aftershave mixed with a hint of gun oil, pizza from a couple of hours ago from the place down the block, the single malt whiskey on his lips. Sure enough when he turned around he could sense Frank leaning at the bar looking his way.

"It's been a while, Castle. How've you been?"

Frank made room for him at the bar, giving a slight smile as Matt waved to Josie for two more measures.

"Been quiet, you didn't notice?" He replies.

Matt scoffs. "Trying to be a good boy?"

Frank tilts his head and shakes it, chuckling slightly. "When am I ever? Nah, I'm sure somethin'll come along, someone will step outta line. They always do."

He takes a sip of his drink looking over to the pool table where Foggy is undoubtedly getting his ass kicked at pool by Karen. She still looks beautiful.

"You uh, with Karen now? She know about…" he gestures between them with a slight nervousness.

"No, no we're just really good friends. And no, she doesn't."

Matt wasn't trying to hide whatever it is he has with Frank, it just never came up.

"And Nelson?"

Matt takes a hefty swig of the whisky, swirling it around his mouth for a moment. He can feel Frank's eyes on him watching his throat work as he swallows. "Hell no. The thought of trying to explain… not sure I'm ready for that yet."

Frank hums as he drains his glass.

"You out later, doin' your thing?" He asks. Matt knows it's a loaded question.

"Not exclusively…"

.

"Fuck…"

Matt's arms span across the back of the couch, fingers gripping around it almost white knuckled, his head thrown back panting curses up to the ceiling. Clothes are strewn over various surfaces of his apartment wherever they were torn off, a couple of things knocked over on the way up to this point. He's naked, his legs spread wide, and Frank's between them, his hot, wet, dirty mouth wrapped around Matt's cock. He tries not to move his hips, as much as he wants to, but it's as if Frank's encouraging him to fuck his face, grasping underneath his buttocks and pulling him up towards him but Matt resists.

He moans and pulls off him for a moment, a slick string of spit connecting them for a few seconds until it breaks.

"You gonna let me take care of you?" Frank rasps.

Matt's chest heaves as he tries to catch a breath. "...yeah I just– aw jesus christ!" He's cut off as Frank starts sucking one of his balls into his mouth as he strokes him with his hand.

"Frank, fuck! Please…"

Frank grins releasing him from his mouth before licking his way right up the underside of his shaft to the tip, tasting the leaking precum there as it spreads over his tongue.

"C'mon Red, tell me what you want, it's been a long time… I forget."

Matt's eyes screw shut. "Just, fuck me."

Frank raises an eyebrow with a grin. "Yeah? Gotta get you ready f'me first baby, ain't just gonna fuck you right off."

He straddles Matt's lap, taking his hand in his and curling it around his thick cock. "Gotta open you up so you can take it, huh? You forget how big it was?"

Matt whines as he pumps him slowly, desperate to feel him inside. "Lube's in the bedroom." He murmurs as Frank's mouth works under his jaw to his mouth, kissing him hotly and making him melt.

"C'mon then lil devil." He says, getting up and offering his hand to pull Matt up and follow him.

When Matt's settled on his bed Frank wastes no time finding the lube and loosening him up. He missed hearing those sweet little grunts and moans of need as he worked his fingers inside him, teasing him with a little brush over the spot that he'll be pounding hard against in a short while.

"Fuckin' missed you, y'know that?" Frank admits as he kisses over Matt's neck and collarbones, skirting over the twin scars and down to graze his teeth over and suck at his nipple. "Missed this." His voice lowers as he scissors his thick digits making the other man's back arch gorgeously.

"Frank please, I'm ready, I'm ready."

Frank smirks. He loves how he begs for him, how open and honest he is with his needs now. No longer unsure, no longer ashamed.

He squirts more lube on his hand smearing it all over his cock, pressing his large hands on the underside of Matt's thighs, pushing them back and apart. When he lines up Matt's already trying to push back on to him.

"Woah, easy…" Frank shushes him as he slowly and carefully presses deeper, the fat flared head of his cock disappearing inside as they both groan with pleasure.

It still burns for Matt but he wants that bit of delicious pain, it seals the memory of Frank into him like a brand for when he eventually leaves. His hands wrap around the back of his thick neck, pulling Frank over him and down so he can taste him again as keeps on sliding inch by inch inside him.

He's such a big man, he surrounds him and it feels good to give in to it and submit. This isn't so different from when they used to fight, used to beat seven shades of shit out of each other on the streets. It was still a dance then and they got to know each other's steps and moves. He much prefers this dance though, slow and easy. All he has to do is not think, just feel, and those feelings and sensations are like nothing else.

Frank's watching him closely, can see him slipping into that subspace already. It always takes a bit of to and fro before he just lets Frank in, lets him take care of things for him. He thrusts in slow and deep, he feels so damn tight and looks like one of those fuckin' religious statues with the way that pained pleasure is painted on his face. It's not just the sex but when he's back with Matt in Hell's Kitchen he feels home. It's not love but it's damn close to it.

He can't keep his lips off him, kissing and nipping wherever he can reach, wherever makes him whimper and tilt his head back and Frank can see that glazed look in his hazel eyes as they open again.

"I-I'm close, Frank…"

Frank hears that desperate confession and snaps out of his reverie, fucking his devil the way he's waited to for so long, hitting that sweet spot that makes him howl and cry and stripe his release between their writhing bodies as he follows him, cumming deep inside and holding him so damn tightly as he gasps out his name.

Not Red, not D, not Altar Boy.

"Matt…"

Frank tags: @divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @briefcasejuice

@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @munsonownsmyass

[farity]

The Storm’s End, part 4

Modern AU inspired by Aemond Targaryen’s visit to Storm’s End.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OFC (House Baratheon)

Warnings:  Um, smut?  

Part 1  -  2  -  3

.

Aemond didn’t see Cassie for a week.

Every day he woke up hoping she’d texted him and every night he’d down a couple of inches of whisky before realizing she wasn’t going to show up.

He’d been brutally busy with company business now that they had the votes, and even Helaena had commented how grumpy he seemed.

“Sorry, Hel.”

“Are you this mean around Cassie?”

He’d turned to look at his sister and hadn’t been able to answer.  Helaena had blinked a couple of times and tilted her head, and with a small frown on her face, had turned and left.

“When is the annulment going to take place?”

He really didn’t want to have this conversation with his mother.  He didn’t want to have this conversation with anyone.  

“I have to go,” he said, kissing Alicent’s cheek and ignoring her attempt to keep talking to him.

On his way to his car he got a text.

It was Cassie.

“When can I move in to my new appartement?”  She had added an emoji of a croissant.

Aemond stopped, staring at the words until they didn’t make sense any more.

No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no

* * * * *

Cassie sat on her bed.  She would move to Paris.  She would restore antiques.  She would be free of her family.

She kept trying to smile but couldn’t summon the energy.

She’d fallen for Aemond.  Stupid, stupid girl, she thought.  It was the absolutely worst thing she could have done.  

Grabbing a slice of pizza, she had just sipped at her wine - keeping it classy - when someone knocked on the door.  She grabbed her phone to see who it was, and her heart began racing when she saw Aemond on the small screen.

She dropped the pizza slice back in the box and went to open the door.

Aemond stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.  “I’m getting something else out of this,” he said, and she remembered saying those very words to him.

She took a step back and he walked in.  

“Love,” he said, running a hand through his hair.  “I’m in love with you, Cassie,  I know this is unexpected, and I’m sorry to-”

Cassie closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her mouth to his.  She heard him kick the door shut and then he was cradling her face, his mouth busy on hers.  When he pulled back, he grabbed her shoulders.  “I’m a fucking idiot, Cassie, I don’t even know- I haven’t even asked you what you want.”

She gave him a look.  “I thought I just made that pretty clear, I don’t go around kissing men I don’t have feelings for.”  She smiled at him, her eyes watery.  “I’ve fallen for you, Aemond.  I’m going to Paris because it’s my dream but to be honest, I don’t know how long I’ll last being away from you.  I suppose there are flights-”

“Fuck flights,” he interrupted, shaking his head.  “If you want - only if you want - I can work from anywhere.  I can rent a place close to you.”

Cassie smiled.  “You are a fucking idiot.  You’re not renting anything.  But wait, wait,” she stepped back, “I thought family was everything to you.  You’d really move far from them?”

Aemond shrugged.  “Technology is a beautiful thing.  And my family is important to me.  But they’re not everything.  Not any more.”  He took a deep breath, and to her shock and surprise, went down on one knee, holding out his hand while fishing something out of his pocket.

“Cassandra Baratheon, will you stay married to me by law but be my true wife, my soulmate?  Fuck it, I’ll divorce you and marry you for real if you want.”

Her tearful laugh was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, and then she was pulling him up and wrapping her arms around his neck.  “Yes, Aemond, I will stay married to you.”

He kissed her for a long time, then remembered.  “Wait.”

He opened the little box, “I know you already have a ring and if you want to change it we can, but I got you something else.”  There was a large sapphire pendant surrounded by diamonds, hanging from a delicate gold chain.

“Holy shit, that’s gorgeous.”  Cassie turned, pulling her hair up on one hand so he could put the necklace on her.  When he was done, he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

“I want to see you wearing this.  Only this.”

She turned around, began unbuttoning the oversized shirt she wore, let it slide down, and reached for Aemond’s left hand.  “I want to see you wearing this,” she said, tapping his wedding band.  “Only this.”

* * * * * 

They had finished the bottle of wine and the pizza, and Cassie was now wrapped around Aemond as he sat up against the pillows.  

“Do you want a party?”

She raised an eyebrow.  “I thought that’s what we were having,” she smirked.

Aemond smiled.  “I mean a reception, something to celebrate our marriage with the people we love.”

Cassie groaned, “oh my fucking god, I’m going to have to tell my father that I am staying married to you.” She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.  “He is never going to let me live that down.”

“You’ll be too busy in Paris, fixing furniture for  museums or rich people, to care that much.”

“True,” she snuggled against his side.  “I hadn’t thought about a reception.  I suppose we could, but nothing too crazy.  Are you really going to be okay with moving to Europe?”

He pulled her closer, kissed her.  “Yeah.  It will be an adventure.”

Cassie slipped out of his arms, reached over to straddle him.  “That’s how I feel.”

“Hmm.  You feel amazing,” he murmured, grabbing her hips.  He hardened against her heat, moaned when she began sliding back and forth before she finally took him in.  “Fuck.”  He watched, mesmerized, her breasts bouncing as she started to move, let her set the pace.

She bit her lower lip, trying to go slow, not end it too quickly.  Her fingertips sank into Aemond’s shoulders, holding on.  “Is it ever going to stop being so frenzied?” she asked, losing the battle and beginning to move her hips faster.

“This?  Us?”  Aemond panted, “I’m sure we’ll find out.”

Cassie threw her head back, and began clenching around him as her orgasm hit.  His hands on her hips kept her moving, faster, harder, until he reached his own release.  She finally fell on him, breathing heavily, as the pleasure began to ebb.

He rubbed her back, content to stay like this as long as she wanted.

* * * * * 

Six months later

“This is the life,” Cassie declared as she bit into her mille-feuille.  “Hey, I thought you didn’t like hot chocolate!”

Aemond looked up.  “This is not hot chocolate.  This is some kind of dark magical elixir.  I’ll make you some more,” he smiled, then downed the rest of her cup.

She smiled, watching his ass as he went to the kitchen.  Turning, she saw the sunset past the many buildings out of her window, and walked out to the balcony.  

It was a rare day off for her, as once she had gotten a couple of restorations under her belt, word had spread through the Parisian rich and beautiful, and she had a fairly steady stream of work.  She had also done some minor work for the Louvre, but as they had their own team of restorers, they’d told her they would keep her on a list of contractors instead of offering her a permanent position.

Cassie understood.  She was young and could wait, and rather enjoyed the variety of projects she had at the moment.

“Here, Madame,” Aemond handed her a cup full of her favorite hot chocolate.  He had just woken up from a nap, as late night west coast conference calls tended to run into the early hours of Parisian mornings.  He wrapped his arms around her, watching the setting sun.  “What are you working on these days?”

“A dresser for a couple in the 7th.  One of the drawers is missing so I have to reconstruct it from scratch.”  She offered him the cup, letting him have a few sips.  “Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Because you’re fucking brilliant,” he said.

She raised her lips to his, and sighed, enjoying the soft colors of the sunset.

.

.

.

.

@arryn-nyx​   @greenowlfactif  @hydrationqueensworld    @megzdoodle@melsunshine​  @queenofshinigamis     @throughgoeshamilton   @travelingmypassion

@hb8301   @kaemond-zafiro    

[hippolotamus]

A ship and a fic title? This sounds like so much fun!

Jake x Stevie - 'Wood' You Like A Whisky or Whatever?

(sorry, couldn't resist! 😁)

Or maybe,

Patrick x David - Only One Pizza

Hi, Friend!!! Thank you for these delightful suggestions. I definitely lol’d over the first one. As per usual this did not go where I thought, sooo… enjoy! 💙

Stevie doesn’t remember exactly when Jake showed up in Schitt’s Creek. The details are, like most of her youthful memories, a bit hazy. All she knows is at some point he did what Jake does - appeared out of thin air, made himself at home, and went about living his easy, breezy life.

In a town this small, it didn’t take them long to encounter each other. Stevie doesn’t trust most people, but she feels safe with him. He doesn’t demand, well, anything in exchange for his time. She never feels pressured to do more than simply exist when they’re together. And she likes that he never apologizes for who he is or how he conducts himself. Not like there’s anything remotely objectionable. Well, there is the whole kissing on the mouth as a greeting situation. That’s definitely weird at the very least.

Stevie pushes the door open to the shop. Inside Jake is hunched over a power saw, carefully marking a board for measurements. She waits patiently, silently appreciating the way his muscles flex, and the miles of tan skin on display. They’ve never had sex or even had a makeout session, but she’s heard the stories about him. It’s been far too long since she had her needs met, so the urge to suddenly lick the bead of sweat on his collarbone isn’t exactly surprising.

“Stevie! I didn’t hear you come in.” He tucks the pencil behind his ear, already making his way over to her. “Good to see you.”

She means to return the greeting (minus the kiss on each cheek), but what comes out instead is, “So, what’s your deal?”

Jake scratches his head, looking appropriately puzzled. “Uh, excuse me?”

“You’re attractive, perpetually single, and have a reputation around town for being some kind of alleged sex god.”

“Not how I’d put it, but yeah, I do pretty well,” he says through a chuckle, planting his hands on his hips. “What’s it to you?”

“Maybe I just wanted to find out if the rumors were true,” she answers, shrugging her shoulders in an attempt to feign nonchalance.

”Right.” He hooks a finger under her chin, tilting her head up. His eyes appear darker, a little wilder. Stevie’s pulse starts to race. The featherlight touch on her skin, that singular point of contact, seems to set every nerve ending on fire. She’s already restless to touch and be touched everywhere. “So, was that enough to satisfy your curiosity?”

They’ve drifted even closer, leaving millimeters of space between them. Their lips are nearly touching, all she would have to do is sway the tiniest bit forward to take what she wants.

“You know what?” She murmurs, her hand instinctively reaching out, pressing on the solid wall of muscle beneath his thin undershirt, sliding up, up, up to his chest. “I think I’m gonna need a bit more.”

send me a ship + a title

[albert-prous]

ACT 71 suite

tableau 2. ombres sorties des gris

morts vivants le baiser dans un déplacement assourdissant des respirations acheteurs vendeurs vide greniers plantes artificielles neuves draps etc balles de tennis 1 000 frs urinoir 11 000 frs vends lots toupies table à repasser de 120 cm x 40 cm prix 3000 frs 1 dent de mégalodon 10 000 frs av produits de beauté robe légère 3 000 frs couverts et moule à cake cigarette Électronique 3 000 frs marmite à riz cimetière réveillé de mauvaise humeur coupe de fruit en cristal barbecue de table 4 500 frs service porcelaine limoge sacrifié eau de parfum jeunesse éternelle valise pyjama urgent cherche frigidaire cherche terrain à louer av patates 5kg 2 250 frs piments oiseau cimetière habillé cimetière des nus cimetière parfumé citrons 4 saisons 300 frs poireaux gros comme le bras achards 1frs lunette de vue à débattre cherche moitié de cerf vd poupée gonflable noire cimetière aux bras chrysanthèmes une bouteille de whisky japonais prix 11 500 frs œufs de poules heureuses bananier nain dentier homme haut boite à thé pour collectionneurs préservatifs année 1959 poulets rôtis pizzas feu de bois service rapide pigeons vivants prothèse auditive gauche choux local 150 frs lots de Taros d'eau beaux combavas verts cimetière troc morts vivants main dans la main vd os à moelle vd abats divers disponibles cherche grattons confis dans leur graisse rupture cervelle de canut sur commande semences locales à réserver quatre heures fin du marché

1

[worldrandom]

National holiday catch up

5-17

international child helpline day, national bike to school day, national cherry cobbler day, national idaho day, national mushroom hunting day, national walnut, day, pack rat day, world hypertension day, national msilke month

5-18

ascencion day saint barthelemy, ascencion day saint martin, haitian flag day, global accessibility awareness day, i love reeses day, national cheese souffle day, national no dirty dishes day, world aids vaccine day

5-19

frog jumoing jubillee day, hepatitis testing day, malcolm x day, nasacar day, national defense transportation day, national endangered specious day, national pizza party day, plant something day, walk safetly to school day, world family decetor day

5-20

national armed forces day, clinical trails day, flower day, hals for headway day, international heritage breeds day, national band director day, national be a millionaire day, national high heels day, national learn to swim day, national rescure dog day, national river clean up day, national streaming day, national women in aerospace day, plant a lemon tree day, weights and measure day, world bee day, world fiddle day, world whisky day, walk to school week in uk

5-21

eat more fruit and vegatables day, emergency medical services day, end of the world, international tea day, national amercan day, cross founders day, national memo day, national strawberries and cream day, natioanl talk like yoda day

5-22

bitcoin pizza day, buya musical intsrument day, international coco mom day, national boss babes day, national craft distillery day, national maritine day, national solitaire day, natioanl vanilla pudding day, sherlock holmes day, world goth day, natioanl safe sun week

5-23

national drinking with chicken day, national lucky penny day, natioanl medical coder day, national taffy day, worls crohns and colitis day, world turtle day

5-24

bermude day, emergency medical services for childern day, empire day, dennys endless breakfast day, international women day for peace and disarmament, national asparagus day, national brothers day, national caters appreciation day, national escargot day, national scavenger hunt day, tiara day, world schizophrenia aware ness day

[janer055]

nap time

[heyyyyyyyoungblood]

mbti x food and drink

ENFP -  chocolate brownies

ESTP -  burgers

INFP -  tea

ISTP -  coffee

ESFJ -  waffles with strawberries

ISFJ -  cereal

ENFJ -  sandwiches

ESTJ -  water

ENTJ -  whisky

INTP -  oreos

INTJ -  caesar salad

ISTJ -  chive omelette

INFJ -  black forest cake

ENTP -  pepperoni pizza

ISFP -  ramen

ESFP -  soft drink

[lotusss-flowerbomb]

Nice To Meet You (2)

Bucky x Wilson!reader

Warning: 18+, Smut (seriously, children are not welcomed here)

Word Count: 3,152 (I literally tried so hard to keep this short)

********

The drive to the docks to meet Sam and Sarah was too quick. You wanted to spend more time with him alone.

Once you arrived, you kept your distance from both Bucky and Sam and helped Sarah most of the time. You were sitting something inside of the wheel house when she silently followed behind you. You paused to look at Bucky and then turned around almost crashing into her.

"You know those glances you've been giving him hasn't been as subtle as you think," she squinted.

"Girl, what are you even talking about??" You feigned innocence.

She just stared at you until you finally cracked.

"Damn it!" You looked out at Sam and Bucky talking.

"So?? Tell me everything," she motioned for you to hurry up with her hand. "How was it?"

"Amazing," you sighed as you thought about all the nasty things the two of you had done.

"Aye man, what are you smiling about? Are you even listening to me? Why are you so weird?" You heard Sam yell.

When you looked up, you saw the window was open. Your heart rate sped up. There's simply no way he heard that... Did he??

"I can't believe you slept with a man you just met and Sam's friend of all people, " she shook her head.

"You look out there at that man and you look me in my face and tell me that you wouldn't," you challenged her.

"Yeah, he's kinda cute for a white guy," she said.

"Besides, they're not friends... they're coworkers."

When Bucky started laughing, you knew he could hear you. He got a real kick out of hearing you use the line he'd tried using on you last night.

You slammed the window shut embarrassed. Once Sarah realized what had just happened she fell into a fit of laughter.

"It's not funny, that's so embarrassing," you put your face in your hands.

"I just want to know how you plan on telling Sam? You know how he gets, he's gonna shit a brick."

"I know and I don't care if he's mad at me, but I don't want him to be mad at Bucky."

"Ooh, a sneaky link," she danced.

"Girl bye!" You laughed. "What do you know about a sneaky link?" You walked outside.

"I got Tik Tok too," she bragged.

You all finished the work you were doing on the boat for the day. You were happy Bucky was there to help move things along faster. You shook your head at the way he and Sam constantly bickered back and forth throughout the day.

"I know what I'm doing, I've been fixing on this boat my whole life!" Sam would yell.

"Hey, pipe down. You're still wet behind the ears. Just let me show you!" Bucky yelled back.

"Will you two just get a room?" Sarah asked, finally getting them to shut up.

Back home, the boys wanted to spend the rest of their weekend at their friend's house and Sarah welcomed the break.

"Alright, my kids aren't here so I'm not cooking," your sister announced.

"It's Sam's turn anyway," you said.

"No, it's your turn," he fired back.

"I cooked yesterday, you weren't here. Bucky ate, so it counts."

"Bucky definitely ate," he said.

Sarah choked on her drink. Sam, completely oblivious, patted her back and made a comment about hef never knowing how to drink without choking since she was little.

"So, pizza? Yeah, I'll order pizza. Sam, Sarah your usual right?"

"Yep," she answered in between breaths.

"Got it, I'll go up and order online." You jogged out of the room.

When Bucky followed behind you Sam asked where he was going.

"I'm from New York, Sam. I'm gonna make sure she picks the best pizza place." He said matter of factly.

When you two finally got to your room, you smacked Bucky on the arm.

"Ow!" He whined.

"Oh, please!" You smacked him again, "are you trying to get us caught?" 

"Mmm hmm," he pulled you close and kissed your neck.

Your body melted into his. Unable to resist his advances, you put your arms around his neck and kissed him. Soon after your legs were wrapped around his waist and he had you pressed up against the wall.

"I want to fuck you so bad," he said in between kisses.

"Then do it," you teased.

Bucky didn't waste a single second turning you around and pulling down your joggers. He kicked your feet apart and pushed inside of you.

"Oh, fuck yesss," you hissed.

He put his hand over your mouth. The last thing he wanted was to be distracted by your sounds of pleasure and unable to hear someone coming.

Your pussy was so wet. The sloshing sound was driving him crazy and he wanted to get on his knees and suck it, but knew better.

He wanted to see your face, so he turned you back around and lifted you up again. This time he slid into your pussy slowly, watching as your mouth opened and you tried desperately not to make a sound.

"Do you know how good you feel?" He said into your ear. "I'm gonna cum in this tight little pussy. It's mine now and I don't care who knows it."

You grabbed his chin and pressed your lips to his. The knot in your belly unraveled as you creamed all over his dick.

"That's my girl," he fucked you quicker and harder as you tightened around him.

Bucky moaned into your mouth as his body stiffened and he came inside of you. He used one hand to brace himself on the wall and the other to keep you in place. He stopped you when you unwrapped your legs.

"No, wanna feel you," he panted into your throat.

"We don't have time for this, one of them will eventually come see what's taking so long," you wiggled out of his hold.

He let you down, but not before he got one more kiss.

He pulled his pants up while you grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wrapped yourself in it. You quickly placed the order for the pizzas and turned on your shower.

"Bucky, no," you giggled when he tried to follow you in.

"Fine," he kissed you and smacked your ass before leaving quickly.

********

"They've been up there for a long time," Sam said to Sarah.

"They're probably talking. You know how much she loved hearing old stories from daddy. He's probably telling her about how he was there when the wheel was invented or something," she replied.

"Mmm, I'ma go see," he said and walked away before she could stop him.

Bucky slipped into the guest room right before Sam hit the top of the stairs. He quickly rounded the bed and grabbed his bag as if he'd been looking through it.

"Hey, where's Y/N?" Sam questioned.

"Said she was getting in the shower," he never looked up.

"Oh... Why are your pants unzipped in my house?"

"Because I was also going to get in the shower, is that okay?" Bucky finally looked up at him and rolled his eyes.

Sam squinted at him before walking the short distance to your room. He could hear the water going in your bathroom, so he finally relaxed. Bucky came out of the guest room to go in the bathroom across the hall. He just shook his head at Sam. The man was definitely gonna pop a vein when he found out about the two of you.

********

While you all ate Sam and Bucky talked about their infamous first meeting.

"The guy puts his arm through my windshield and snatches the steering wheel clean off," Sam laughed. "Then I watched him jump over the side of a bridge and land on his feet."

"Come on, man," Bucky sounded embarrassed and looked over at you.

"It's funny now. Not so much back when you were trying to kill me, but definitely now," he took a drink.

"Alright, enough of those stories time for music," Sarah saved him. "Alexa, play some old school."

Alexa lit up and played Sexual Healing by Marvin Gaye.

"Nooo, Alexa, next song!" Sam yelled.

Alexa played Love and Happiness by Al Green.

"Oh, this the one right here," he stood.

You and Sarah stood on each side of him and let him take lead, eventually coming in to be his back up vocals.

Bucky couldn't help but smile seeing the three of you together.

"Ooh, come on, Buck, let's dance," you put your hand out.

"What? No, I haven't danced since the 40's," he said and took a sip of his whisky.

"Well, you're long overdue then," you grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.

You both swayed to the music. He smiled at you as he held on to your hips and led the dance. You were so caught up in him that you hadn't noticed Sam stopped singing and was just staring at you.

It wasn't until the music abruptly stopped that you remembered your siblings were even there.

Sam's jaw was on the ground as he stared at the two of you. You jumped out of his arms and started to explain, but he made a beeline for Bucky.

"Sam—"

He punched him in the face causing Bucky to flip over a chair.

"Samuel!" You and Sarah both yelled.

"He had it coming!" He walked away.

You helped Bucky up.

"Why didn't he hit that hard a few days ago when Walker was kicking our asses," he rubbed a finger across his eye.

"Are you okay? I didn't think he'd ever react like that," you checked his face.

"I'm fine," he assured you. "I should probably go," he said.

"You don't have to go, I'll talk to him. Besides, he just punched you; he didn't say you had to leave." You walked away to find your brother.

Sarah grabbed ice for his face and started cleaning up.

********

"Samuel Thomas Wilson!" You screamed when you saw his silhouette pacing back and forth on the dock. "Have you lost your mind?!"

"Have you?!" He yelled back.

"You're a real piece of work, do you know that?"

"Of all the men in the world, why did you have to choose him?"

"Oh please, you're acting like I ran off and married the guy," you rolled your eyes.

"That's just it, the man's been through enough. He doesn't need you playing with him and trying to figure it out."

"Wait, you're mad at me?? Why the hell did you hit him?"

"I'm mad at both of you. I don't want him hooking up with my kid sister. He's too damn old, " he said, finally starting to calm down.

"Hate to burst your bubble, but I'm not a kid anymore and the man is too old for everyone." You sat down and swung your feet over the edge.

"You'll always be my baby," he sat next to you.

"How's your hand?"

"Hurts like a bitch. The guy is very literally hard headed," he chuckled.

********

You found Bucky in the guest room lying in bed with the ice pack on his face.

"How's the eye?" You leaned up against the door.

"It'll survive," he looked over at you.

You walked over to the bed and laid flat on your back next to him. You were quiet until you couldn't hold in your laugh any longer.

"What's so funny?"

"He socked the shit out of you."

"Right?!" He laughed along with you. "But it was worth it. Besides, I had it coming. I did rip the man's steering wheel off while he was driving after all." He chuckled, referencing the earlier conversation.

"You know, he just jumped at the very first boyfriend I ever had and that poor guy never called me again," you moved the ice from his face.

"Yeah well, I don't scare that easily," he pecked your lips with a soft kiss.

You put your hand out for him to grab.

"You sure I'm not gonna get punched again," he laced his fingers with yours.

"Oh please, it was just a little love tap," you led him to the bedroom.

He locked the door behind you then quickly scooped you up to lie you down on your back.

"Bucky," you giggled as he kissed the insides of your thighs.

"I'm going back to Brooklyn tomorrow. I need to taste you one more time before I go." He pulled off your pants.

He slowly slid your underwear off and stuffed them in his back pocket. He definitely needed something to remember this moment by.

Bucky rubbed your pussy and then slowly pushed two fingers inside of you.

"Fuck, look how wet you are and I've barely touched you." He admired the wetness on his fingers when he pulled them out.

You opened your mouth wide and stuck your tongue out, letting him know you wanted a taste.

He happily stuck his fingers in your mouth. His dick pulsing as he watched you suck on his fingers. He could no longer resist diving in between your thighs after watching how much you enjoyed tasting yourself.

Bucky expertly rolled his tongue over your clit. Watching you as you struggled to keep quiet.

He rolled over onto his back while keeping you in place, so you were now riding his face. You buried your face in the pillows and let out the moans you'd been holding back.

"Fuck my tongue," he smacked your ass.

You bounced your ass on his face while he licked and sucked you.

Bucky stroked his cock. His balls were so full, he'd be cumming in no time.

"I'm gonna cum," you gripped the sheets.

Bucky flipped you again, as much as he wanted you to cum on his face, he wanted to see you come apart beneath him even more.

He pushed your legs back and nudged into you. Your breath caught in your throat as he stretched you.

He rubbed your clit as he fucked you slowly and deliberately. Putting his hand around your throat and squeezing lightly until damn broke and you shattered to pieces.

He caught your screams with his mouth and kept fucking until he could no longer hold back. He came inside of you for the second time that night.

After getting cleaned up, he wrapped his arms around you and before long he was asleep. You thought about what Sam said about him having been through enough. Sure, you had your time when you were just living life and didn't take men seriously, but after the blip you've realized that life is way too short. Besides, you actually liked Bucky and wanted to get to know him.

You ran your finger across the stubble on his sleeping face. His soft breathing continued as his fingers flexed lightly on your back.

Normally, even that light touch would've awakened him, but right now, he was completely comfortable and felt safe there with you and your family.

********

The next day Bucky got up early. He decided not to wake you and made his way down the stairs. Sam was already outside throwing the shield around.

Bucky walked up, but the two men didn't speak for a while. It wasn't until Sam threw the shield and Bucky caught it did they break the silence.

"I should've said something. The moment we got to the boat, I should've told you," he said.

"Yeah, you should have," Sam finally stopped to look at him. "That's my baby sister, man."

"I know and I didn't plan for it, hell, I didn't even know you had sisters... Or a boat? Which she got on my ass about by the way," he smiled.

"As she should," he laughed.

The two men talked about a few things and finally Bucky opened up to Sam a little bit.

"You still having those nightmares?" He asked.

"All the time... Except these past two nights." He inhaled as he felt himself becoming emotional. "For the first time in a long time, I felt a little at peace. Even when I was in Wakanda, I always felt like someone was coming, but with Y/N, I just..." his words trailed off.

"You know the Wilson's, we good for the soul man," Sam joked. "You can't use her as a crutch though," he became serious.

Bucky nodded in agreement. He knew exactly what he meant.

"You ready for a little bit of tough love?" He asked the older man.

********

You and Sarah watched out of the window while the two men talked.

"Oh look, they're doing the little high five dap thing," you said.

"He's walking away. Wow, that man broke your back and now he's leaving without saying goodbye," she teased.

"The hell he is," you ran to the front door.

"Hey!" You yelled after snatching it open and running out.

You ran past your brother and jumped into Bucky's arms. Wrapping your legs around him, you gave him a long, tongue filled goodbye kiss.

He set you on your feet after finally pulling himself away. You reached up and pinched his arm.

"Ow! Why is this family so violent?!" He yelled dramatically.

"How dare you try to leave without saying bye to me?" You huffed.

"I'm sorry, doll, but I'm not so good at goodbyes," he hugged you close. "I have some things I need to do back home, but I promise I'll be back as soon as I can."

"You'd better," you kissed him again. "Come on, I'll take you to the airport." You tugged him towards your car.

********

It had been weeks since you'd last seen Bucky, but you spoke on the phone almost everyday. You were excited when he told you that he was coming back to visit and would be at the big cookout.

You mingled with the people while you waited for him to show up, sitting with a group of friends talking when AJ and Cass took off running past you. You turned to see where they were headed and you saw Bucky walking up with a cake in his hand and sunglasses on.

"Damn, he looks better in person," one of your friends said.

"That he does. Excuse me, ladies," you vacated your seat and walked over to him.

The smile that stretched across his face was a mile long.

"Sargeant."

"Hey, baby doll," he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you passionately.

"Alright, alright, enough of that. We're trying to eat here." Sam said.

Bucky clapped his friend on the back and you all sat down together.

Bucky looked around the table at all the smiling faces. He never thought he'd have happiness. Let alone people he could call family. He kissed you at your temple one more time. The way you looked at him made his heart flutter.

Finally. The calm he'd been searching for.

[wallwriterstuff]

The Good I Come Home To ||Leon S. Kennedy x Female!Reader|| Part 1

Warnings: Angsty, PTSD Leon being very jumpy and shell-shocked, mentions of sex. 

Words: 3318

Summary: Originally posted to my Archive of Our Own Account. 

Part 2 can be found here

Leon has kept it very casual with you for months, seemingly oblivious of the growing feelings you harbour. You have no idea just how badly it hurts him to leave you every time until he tries to cut you out of his life completely. You have other ideas. You just have to persuade Leon they're the right ones.

Leon S. Kennedy was a complicated man in many respects, but it was easy to unravel all those complex layers if you started looking at his core values, his sense of purpose. To serve, to protect. Leon was built to be the bodyguard of humanity, the first line of defence between unimaginable horror and the things he loved. Every experience had moulded him into this hard shell of a man, so far from the one people used to know. It had been interesting, really, to see an old friend from the Police Academy approach him and see just how different they had turned out. They both had the eyes of experience anybody in the force acquired over time, but Leon’s were sterner, like an unbreakable stone as opposed to ice you could chip away at and eventually shatter. This old friend of his had a small-town job and apple pie life. He had the white picket fence and the wife who kissed him when he came home to freshly made dinner. His children were doing well at school.

Leon had listened like his life was a whole other world away. It was visible in his eyes, though he carefully kept it off his face, that the comparison between each man actually disturbed him. You hadn’t meant to see of course. It was pure coincidence you’d happened to be in the supermarket, walking down that same aisle. His old friend had hit the barricade you so often hit when you asked. You’d stopped questioning it after a few months of back and forth and the looming threat of losing him became a dark and unbearable burden.

“So er, heard about the huge explosion at Raccoon. Where’d they place you after that?”

“Nowhere. I work for the government now.”

“Oh damn. FBI?”

“Something like that.”

His job was the complicated topic. Classified and bad enough to put a certain brand of darkness behind his eyes when you asked, it was  best left untouched by your hands because it was hidden beneath the many layers of the man you’d only ever been allowed to scratch the surface of – literally and figuratively. Beyond his core values, the simplicity of Leon S. Kennedy lay in his needs. He was a flesh and blood man after all. He was guaranteed to need to eat, to do laundry, to shower, to relieve himself. These simple needs were what made him somewhat predictable to you. On his best days, when he text you days or hours before, you were almost guaranteed to be wined and dined. Okay so the wine and dine option was sometimes more like beer and take-out pizza but it was always paid for by him if you bought the alcohol.

When he was feeling a little less than okay, you’d get no outright statement of his desire to see you, but he’d hedge around the topic and wait for you to ask him, like he was afraid to be a nuisance. You’d only get this awkward and prompting behaviour from him an hour or two before he showed up which left you little time to prepare, but a quick shower was always on the cards. In his worst moments, he’d give no warning and simply show up at your house with smouldering eyes that demanded your attention and everything else you had to give him. God help you, you always gave him everything. As simple as his needs were, as his feelings on the matter appeared, yours were much more complicated. Leon S. Kennedy had made it clear from the start when he met you at the bar that fateful night, all chiselled jaw and playful eyes, that nothing serious was to come of this.

It had progressed to a proper agreement when you both seemed to just keep running into each other. You were free to date, if you so pleased, and he’d stop showing up. He’d be gone like dust in the wind, untraceable and impossible to bring back. You didn’t want that. Until the day either of you became tied down you had agreed you were exclusive. You sated each other only. It was hard to keep to that promise all the time when he was away for long periods, but you remained true to your word anyway, and that was how it had stayed for a solid eight months. Leon came back to a bed you kept free just for him and left in the morning like it was no more than a pit-stop on a long and winding road.

You suspected he wasn’t proud of it. You thought sometimes you could see something softer in his eyes, something that made you think he wished for something more than he was already giving you. There were moments his eyes lingered when he said goodbye, times his hands stayed on you a little longer than they usually did. On rare occasions, when he was just a bit too drunk after what you guessed was a bad job, you let him sleep it off with his arms around you and listened to the whimpers in his sleep with an aching heart. Leon consistently let you have his body, gave you the briefest glimpses at the big heart he held so carefully hidden away, but never once did he let you into his mind. As much as you loved being with him, you had never truly been with him at all. You’d never truly connected with him beyond anything physical. It pained you to know you never would. You cared for him too much. You saw the deep pain he carried with him everywhere, and you’d never be able to alleviate that load because he wouldn’t let you.

You had to pause the TV to be sure you’d actually heard anything at all, but when you heard the noise again it was stronger, bolder. Knocking. Glancing at the clock, you turned the TV off with a frown. There weren’t many people who would come knocking at this late hour, and you didn’t know if your heart was in it tonight to let him in when he would forever keep you out. As if on cue, when you opened the door to a dripping wet Leon, thunder rumbled and rattled the open window in the corridor of your apartment block. A small puddle of water had formed on the windowsill, dripping in as the harsh rain battered the glass. Leaving your door propped with the door stop you kept nearby for moments like these, you crossed to the window to close it and lock out the weather. You felt sullen enough without the storm clouds invading your house.

“Leon if you’re here to drink that’s okay but I’m not really up for-“ you cut yourself off, uncertain all of a sudden as to what it was he was here for. His needs were always so simple, the looks and actions associated with them something you had come to learn to recognise without much conscious thought. This was entirely new. Those piercing blue eyes were sullen, fighting between being as hard as sapphire and as soft as calm ocean waves. What was frightening was the depth of the ocean you saw. It was like staring into an abyss of torment. Red-ringed and with whisky on his breath, it didn’t take a genius to realise Leon had been crying and was in fairly bad shape. Hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, he stared at you through those horribly complex eyes, his mouth half open like he wanted to say something but couldn’t force the words out. He was pale, breaths even but heavy, like he had to physically remind himself to huff out each one.

Wordlessly, you took him by the hand. His skin was freezing to the touch and you guessed the faithful jacket had done little to keep the bitter cold from seeping into his exposed skin. Your theory was proven right when his cheeks were just as cold to the touch.

“I…” you thought he might say more but it was like watching a caveman learn to talk. There were only sounds, no words. He was usually very skilful with his tongue but tonight those talents were nowhere to be found. Pushing his jacket from his shoulders you hung it to dry over the back of your sofa, hoping the radiator would do its job and leave it toasty for him when he inevitably put it on to leave you again. You ignored the stinging in your chest at the thought. Leon didn’t need you to be petty right now. Truthfully, you were frightened. Leon’s carefully constructed composure had been shattered by something and you didn’t think you wanted to know what was strong enough to shatter this man’s rock hard exterior and cut him so deeply. He stood dumbly in your hallway, and you gently pushed him to the edge of the sofa to take off his shoes so they wouldn’t traipse water into your home.

“Shhh Leon, just come with me.” You coaxed him back onto socked feet, leading him down the hall to your bathroom.

“No…no Y/N I, I don’t…” he swallowed.

“Do you trust me Leon?” you asked him, keeping your voice gentle like you were cajoling a wild animal into eating from your palm. Leon nodded without question and you smiled slightly. “Then just follow for me now.” You kicked open your door and led him to the edge of the tub, grabbing a towel from the shelving units there and placing it on the sink.

“What are you doing?” he could barely speak above a whisper, looking confused and upset and lost all at once.

“I’m going to run you a nice hot bath before you catch your death. I don’t know how long you were in the rain for Leon but you’re frozen to the bone.” You said calmly, putting the plug in the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. Leon didn’t answer, merely watched you with the eyes of a man so lost in trauma he couldn’t find his way back to the surface world and make sense of the happenings around him. While you waited for the water to turn steamy, you rubbed at his hair with the towel in your hand to dry it. You knew something was incredibly wrong when he let you mess it up like that. There were very few instances you were allowed to touch his hair and you had to always, always comb it back into place or suffer the consequences. Occasionally, you took a break to fill the tub with some of your prized bath oils. Lavender, camomile, jasmine, all your favourite scents from a beautiful kit a colleague had bought you as part of secret Santa last year.

He didn’t comment as the room filled with intoxicating, relaxing scents, nor when you checked the temperature again and told him he could get in when he was ready. He held the towel in both hands, staring at the cotton as if it might hold some answers.

“Thank you.” He mumbled. You nodded once.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” you asked him. He nodded once, but he didn’t meet your gaze. He was lying you were sure. “Okay. Take as long as you need in here, I’ll be about when you feel ready to see me alright?” you promised, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. Your lips lingered a little too long, but Leon didn’t move away. He closed his eyes as if the contact was all he had wanted and more. As the door closed behind you you heard the soft, muffled sob he tried so hard to bury in the towel, and your heart broke a little more. Something had shattered Leon S. Kennedy and it didn’t sit well with you at all to see him this vulnerable. He needed the space right now to get his mind back in order but once he did, when he was ready to face you, you weren’t sure you’d get an explanation from him. He’d shut down every time you’d ever asked for one before.

He’d woken screaming one night, lashing out so violently that if you had been sat upright there’d have been no way to avoid his fist and he’d have knocked you out cold. When you tried to ask what was wrong, he’d simply snapped at you to leave him be and left your apartment so fast there could have been a fire under his ass. So, what did you do? Did you just not even try? He hadn’t made a move on you, had specifically said no when he saw you heading in the direction of the bedroom. But if he wasn’t here for sex what was he here for? It only added to your anxiety that you really had no clue what he wanted if it wasn’t your body he’d come for, and though part of you thought that should make you angry, another part of you hoped that that meant it was something more that he was after this time. The kind of more you wanted.

No. You had to try for him. You couldn’t let him go on like this. He didn’t have to fight the war in his head alone, not when you were here. At least, if he wanted to go it alone, he could have someone stable waiting with a safety net if he stumbled. For now you’d let him linger and soak in the tub, and you’d make the most out of the ingredients you had in the fridge. If he stayed, he could eat it off a plate. If he didn’t…well, you’d make some in a container in case. Pasta bake had always been your father’s speciality and it had been your favourite as a child, was still your comfort food now. Chicken and bacon sizzled, pasta boiled, and you grated the cheese to the rhythm of your favourite song playing softly on the radio while the milk and butter warmed on the stove. You snagged a piece of bacon from the wok and let the salty flavour burn your tongue.

With your masterpiece constructed and more cheese grated on top, you slid the dish into the oven for it to crisp up and set your timer, setting about washing the utensils next. It kept your hands busy, kept your mind from wandering too much, but even the sudsy water couldn’t quite keep your mind from ticking over. Why had Leon come here in the pouring rain? What had spooked him so badly he’d thought, in his less than coherent state, that he needed to be here in your apartment? Did the fact he’d come to you mean anything at all or did he just happen to be nearby? You put the saucepan a little harder than necessary into the rack when it slipped from your hands, jumping and cursing to yourself at the loud clang it had made.

“Y/N!” Leon almost roared your name in pure, abject terror. Eyes wide you rushed for the bathroom, hands still soapy and dripping water. He was already out of the bathtub, naked and scrambling through his jacket until he came up with a gun of all things, aimed right at you as you burst through the door. A shriek escaped you and you immediately dropped to the floor, hands above your head.

“Leon it’s me!” you begged. Harsh breathing filled the room.

“Where is it?” he demanded. You peeked up at him from below your arms, lowering them slowly. He was half-crouched, eyes wild and fixated on the door that led back to your room. He offered you a hand. “Come on, get up and get behind me, where is it?” he repeated the question more firmly now.

“Where’s what? Leon I – there’s only us here. I just dropped a saucepan.” You breathed. His expression faltered, confusion flooding his features first , then guilt, and finally grief. His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, held it, exhaled slowly. He lowered his gun after a few more deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking a little like a kicked puppy. You shook your head, slowly pushing to your feet so as not to startle him. His skin was tinged pink, little suds clinging to the ends of his hair. The timer went off in the kitchen and Leon flinched again, hand tensing around the gun. You soothingly placed your hand on his arm.

“It’s just the timer. We’re the only people here Leon, nothing’s going to hurt us. How’s about you dry off and come have something to eat?” you suggested. He blanched at the mention of food and you frowned. “You don’t have to eat everything, just a little bit, you look really pale.” You reached for the towel and held it out to him until he reluctantly nodded and wrapped it around his waist. You left the door slightly ajar and headed for the kitchen to switch off the damn timer. He was so jumpy, so eager to jump to your defence. You plated up a small portion, not wanting to put him off with a large one. You didn’t feel particularly hungry yourself but you’d had a proper meal earlier in the evening, a cup of tea would suffice, camomile and honey would soothe your nerves. Leon had a liking for peppermint you knew. Maybe if he was nauseous that would help him eat? Tea and pasta bake served you sat opposite his place, one hand wrapped around the handle of your mug and the other pulled up to your mouth, your teeth nibbling the side of your nail.

“You’ll make your thumb sore.” He lingered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should sit down or run away. You dropped your hand and placed a more welcoming smile on your lips, nodding to the plate.

“Chicken and bacon pasta bake. It’s good.” You invited. Hesitantly, Leon shuffled to the chair and sat down. You didn’t push him to talk. Months of being with Leon had assured you that pushing would only clam him up further, and you wanted to pry him open tonight. With a sinking feeling, you realised it might be the last night you ever saw him. He’d let himself be extremely vulnerable to you already and you weren’t the type of person to see this kind of trauma and let it go unchecked. You’d want to check in on him, you’d want to help him feel better, and Leon didn’t appreciate the questions you’d have to ask to get the kind of help he needed right. He sighed slightly, picking up the fork and taking a small bite. He looked physically sick for the first few mouthfuls, and you made an effort to distract him with small talk about the weather, your day and all its mundane happenings.

He seemed enraptured by your very voice, soaking in every syllable that crossed your lips and mindlessly working his arm and mouth to clear the plate and drain the mug in front of him.

“Can I have a bit more? It’s really good.” He surprised you with his request but you obliged him, spooning some more on his plate.

“If you’re that partial to it you can take some home to.” You said simply. He nodded once, clearing the second portion with ease and looking much better for it. The colour had returned to his cheeks and he looked a little more put together than before. You settled back in your chair, watched him clean his plate and put it in the drying rack. It was a courtesy you’d never have asked for but were grateful for nonetheless. He didn’t turn around though, keeping his back to you and tightening his grip on the countertop.

[soldierswar]

Shots

Bucky x Reader

Fluff. (A liiitle bit of angst if you squint.)

(Mentions of drinking).

Synopsis: It officially becomes apparent to Bucky that he is completely immune to the effects of alcohol. But without the liquid courage that he was hoping for will he have the guts to tell you how he really feels?

“Never have I ever blacked out and woken up in an unknown location.”

Bucky took three shots.

“Umm, I’m pretty sure that you’re only supposed to take one, Barnes,” you snorted.

He shrugged nonchalantly.

“What are you gonna do, arrest me?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Again, why are we playing a drinking game that you probably haven’t played since you were a college freshman?” your friend Meg slurred.

“Because Meggy, I need to see this man drunk.”

Bucky gave a mockingly shocked expression with only his eyes and a slight nostril flare.

“Well, it looks like it might take a little while,” your friend Isaac stated.

“How much have you had, man?”

Bucky thought about it and shrugged, and you giggled.

You had met Bucky a lot of times when he and Sam sometimes needed intel from the CIA. Eventually, you just became the one CIA agent that they (especially Bucky) came to nowadays. As time went by you kind of became friends, and you finally had the courage to ask him to come over for a little party that you were throwing with ten or so people. You couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t shocked when he showed up. He seemed like quite the introvert. You were even more shocked that he stayed as long as he did with only four of you left at 1 am.

“Wait,” you snorted taking a swig of your beer.

“I wanna know where the hell you woke up.”

Bucky groaned.

“You know how it goes. I was 16, one thing led to another and I woke up shirtless in a Brooklyn park. That’s never happened to you?”

You gave him a dumbfounded look.

“No…”

“Your loss,” he teased.

“Okay, well I think that Meg has had enough,” Isaac sighed checking the time and watching her head drift around like a bobblehead at times.

“This one needs to get home.”

He went to her side placed her arm around his shoulder and picked her up.

“I’m totally capable of walking, asshole,” she protested, but gave in 0.5 seconds later and held onto him a little tighter. You could tell that she might have been acting just a little bit drunker than she actually was just to play the damsel in distress that desperately needed him.

They still hadn’t had the guts to tell you that they had been sleeping together for at the very least a good month. And you knew he would most likely be staying the night with her. But just to watch over her.

“Well take a water bottle with you,” you ordered pointing to the row of them you had set out on the counter.

“Aye aye, captain,” she slurred again sloppily saluted you.

“Don’t worry,” Isaac reassured.

“I’ll make sure she gets home okay.”

“I’m sure you will,” you nodded.

He gave you a suspicious glare.

“Okay well I’ll see you on Monday Y/L/N,” he continued.

“And I’ll see you…whenever, Barnes.”

Bucky raised his drink to that and said goodbye as they walked out the door.

“Are they gonna be okay?” Bucky asked.

“They took a cab here. Do you honestly think that I’d let either one of them get in the drivers’ seat? After trying to compete with you?”

Bucky gave a slight shrug.

“Anyways,” he groaned like an old man while getting up.

“I’m gonna help you clean up.”

You looked around at the living room with multiple dirty dishes, and almost finished platter of nachos, and leftover pizza.

“It’s fine,” you reassured.

“I’ll just do it in the morning or something.”

But he protested by picking up some of your plastic cups. One thing you learned about Bucky, one could never stop him from doing what he wanted to do. So you gave in and followed his direction and began picking up.

As time passed while you were reorganizing the apartment from its party layout you learned that Bucky was actually pretty funny. He’d tell little stories about stupid things he’d done in past times and present times, along with asking you about yourself. But he was a little bit shy about it as if not wanting to pry. But you liked it. You really liked his company.

“Okay Barnes, tell me,” you inquired while wiping the last plate in the dish pile.

He was standing barely two feet away from you leaning with his back against the counter and sipping a glass of your strongest whisky.

“How are you still seemingly so sober? Are you just an insanely good actor? Or is your tolerance just impossibly good?”

Bucky sighed.

“I have a suspicion that…I don’t think I can feel anything from alcohol anymore.”

You shook your head.

“What do you mean by that?”

“What I said,” he retorted.

Okay fair enough.

“Since I’ve been…back I’ve noticed that no matter how much I drink nothing happens. I think tonight especially attested to that. Damn, I really should have asked Steve about that.”

His expression drifted off a little bit before catching himself and continuing.

“I think the only appeal is the burn now. And good alcohol still tastes good.”

You thought about what that would be like. You weren’t by any means a heavy drinker, but you wondered what drinking booze was like without feeling a buzz. Non-alcoholic beer never appealed to you one bit.

“That sounds like it kind of sucks. No more waking up shirtless in Central Park.”

He rolled his eyes and flashed a somewhat tortured smile.

“You’re telling me.”

His expression drifted off again with his eyes glazing over. And he seemed to look a little bit uncomfortable.

“Well you’re pretty fun to be around regardless,” you said.

He smiled.

“I’m glad you think so. I’m not always…great at these sorts of things.”

He took another huge gulp finishing what was left in his glass. It must just be a nervous force of habit.

“I, um…I uh…” he stuttered.

“I probably could have used a bit of liquid courage.”

Why did he seem so shy? And damn why did that shyness make your heart skip a few beats?

You looked into his beautiful blue eyes staring back at you sincerely. And for some reason, your next inclination was to sit on the counter leaving only a few inches of gap between the two of you.

“What for?”

He cleared his throat looking down for a few seconds before meeting your gaze again.

“It’s stupid,” he said shaking his head.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you said in a soft surprised tone.

“You may make some pretty stupid impulsive decisions sometimes, but I’ve known you to never say anything stupid.”

All he did was stare into your eyes making your heart flutter and beat so hard in your chest that you almost couldn’t stand it. He was not making the whole liking him without having the courage to tell him thing very easy.

He smiled looking down at the floor again.

“I uh…” he took a deep breath. You were pretty sure that he wished that he could take a real drink.

“I think that there’s something you should know.”

You were generally really good at reading people. It was pretty much your job to do so, but there was no way that you were reading him correctly at this moment.

He then reached his hand forward and pulled a stray strand of hair back.

“You want me to know that my hair’s a mess?”

He smiled and exhaled through his nose. But he didn’t move his hand. With incredibly wide pupils he stared into yours, and you kept your nervous gaze locked on him. Was this really happening?

And before you knew it he was kissing you. And you kissed him. You couldn’t stop kissing him. The last thing you ever wanted to do was stop kissing him even if it meant never coming back for air. But eventually, he pulled away to where his lips were not two inches away from yours and gave you that devilishly charismatic smile.

“No, that’s not what I wanted to say.”

You giggled and pulled his face back to yours again and let him kiss you deeper as you held his face in one hand brushing his cheek with your thumb. There was no moment in your life that ever felt as perfect as this moment felt. And you hoped that he felt even half as much the same.

For the rest of the night, you spent time on your couch continuing to talk, and laugh, and just overall get to know each other. And of course, he or you would initiate a break by kissing some more. And next thing you knew the sun was coming up and it eventually was a bright sunny day.

You didn’t even realize when you had fallen asleep. The last thing you remembered was you sitting on his lap and talking about something that you couldn’t remember. All you knew was that you were comfortable with your head resting on his chest hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the soft rise and fall of his chest. He too was asleep with his chin resting on the top of your head. You hoped that he wasn’t too uncomfortable by seemingly not wanting to wake you up. But he didn’t really seem to be. He was still as a statue.

You decided that it was time to move and scooted onto the couch in turn waking him up.

“Morning,” you whispered.

“I hope you’re not too hungover.”

Bucky chuckled sleepily and then checked the time on his watch. You both couldn’t believe that it was 9 am.

“I should get going,” he said and let out another old man’s groan while getting up and you followed him to the door.

“I uhh…I think it might go without saying that I was hoping to be able to see you again.”

You smiled because obviously, you were thinking the same thing.

“I mean…Outside of work…Like to hang out?”

You giggled. You didn’t expect him to continue to be shy and bashful the way that he was.

“Just give me a time and a place.”

His face lit up and he planted one more kiss on your lips causing you to blush.

“So I’ll see you?”

You gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Sooner than later,” you replied.

He nodded.

And as he walked down the hall you couldn’t help yourself but to yell out,

“Are you sure you’re sober enough?”

And of course, you smiled for at least ten minutes after he yelled at you to fuck off.

This man was a keeper.

[one-sad-human]

•Pugs and Coffee• Steven Adler

Pairing: Steven Adler x Reader

Requested? Yes! By a lovely anon

Theme: Fluff

Warnings: Nothing at all!

Word Count: 1k

A/N: —

     The warm breeze hits your face. It's sunny, and your skin greedily soaks up all the sun it can get. You've been busy with work, so when it's finally warm and sunny on your day off, you take the chance to take a walk in the park.

     The park isn't nearly as busy as you thought it would be. The playground has a few screaming kids, but the wooded trail you're walking on is calm and quiet.

     Well, it was. Until a small dog runs up to you, jumping and barking around you. You bend down, softly grasping his blue collar to get him to stand still for a moment.

     "Hey, little guy. Where's your owner?" You ask the small pug. He stares up at you, his tongue hanging lazily out of his mouth as he lets out another bark. You turn his collar to grab the small bone shaped name tag.

     "Buddy?" The pug barks and jostles around again at the sound of his name. You pick Buddy up, holding him closely to your chest and look around for someone who looks like they lost a dog.

     You walk back down the trail, keeping an eye out for Buddy's owner. Quickly after, a cute blonde rushes towards you.

     "Buddy!" He yells with mixed excitement and exasperation. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

     The mystery man has another pug trotting quickly behind him, adorned with a pink leash and matching collar. The stranger picks up Buddy from your arms.

     "Thanks for grabbing him for me, for a little dog he can run real fast," the blonde says, strapping a blue leash to Buddy's collar.

     "Yeah, no problem," you say, a small smile gracing your face.

     "I'm Steven by the way!" Steven put the small pug down, now with a sturdy leash, and grabs your hand.

     "Y/N." He presses a quick kiss to your hand. You flush instantly, and his cheeky smirk proves to you that he knows exactly what he's doing.

      "Pretty name for a pretty lady," he says with a smile. "You want to grab a coffee with me? My treat, as a thank you." You nod, still not fully recovered from his flirty attitude.

     "Sure, sounds nice."

     "Here you are, my lady," Steven says teasingly as he puts down your drink on the round glass table. The coffee shop didn't allow pets, but you and Steven didn't mind sitting outside.

     "Thank you," you say with a small giggle, taking a sip of your beverage. Buddy and Steven's other pug— who's name is appropriately named Lady— both lay splayed out in the sun.

     Steven looks out at the sun, which is now beginning to set, casting a gorgeous orange glow on his handsome face. You'd be lying if you said you didn't immediately find Steven attractive, although he looked extremely familiar.

     You can't place him anywhere, you wonder if you had just seen him walking by one day. In your daze, you don't realize he looked back at you.

     "You're staring ya know." You snap back into reality, quickly averting your eyes and trying to stop the blush you feel creeping up your cheeks.

     "Sorry, I zoned out for a second," you stutter out, nearly pathetically. You haven't known Steven an hour, and he already managed to make you blush twice. "You just look really familiar to me."

     "Maybe you've seen my band, Guns n Roses?" He asks.

     "I did! Last week at the Rainbow! You guys are great, I don't know how I didn't figure it out." Steven glows with pride. Having a pretty woman praise him and his band always did wonders for his ego.

     "We're doing another show this Friday at the Whisky, you want to come? You can hang with us backstage after the show."

     "I'd love to, it's a date." Steven shakes his head, and your heart drops immediately.

     "That's not a date! Our date is tomorrow at eight when I pick you up," he says, a bright smile on his face. Your smile creeps back and you nod.

     "Where are we going?"

     "I was thinking that pizza place right off the strip, it just opened and I heard it's to die for."

      "Sounds amazing," you say and pull out a pen from your small bag. You grab Steven's hand and quickly jot down your number on his palm. "I have to get home, but call me later." You stand up from the chair and he's quick to follow.

     "I'll walk you home," Steven says and grabs his dog's leashes.

     "Oh, you don't have to."

     "I want to! Where do you live?"

     "Just a few blocks from here. It's only a ten minute walk." You and Steven begin the short walk home. On the way, he tells you about his 'idiot friends,' as he so nicely called them.

      He tells you about all the shenanigans they get up to, how his band formed, and some less than flattering things about his friends that you'll be able to use for blackmail for years to come. However, the walk is far too short, and soon you're standing at your front door.

     "Tomorrow at eight, don't forget," Steven says pointedly.

     "I won't, I promise!" You give a quick behind the ear scratches to Lady and Buddy and unlock your door. You stop before you enter, turning around to cup a hand on Steven's cheek before giving him a quick peck.

     "Be nice tomorrow and maybe you'll get something more," you say, flashing another smile before entering your home and closing the door. Steven stands at your door for another moment, caught in a daze.

     You watch from your peephole as Steven recovers and a huge grin takes over his face, right before he pumps a first in the air enthusiastically.

     You laugh at his dorky action before stepping away from the door and walking to the living room, where you'll daydream about Steven well into the night.

[thequeenxofhearts]

Jason Todd x Reader | Blame it on the Double

Summary: Jason and reader for a drink at a bar, but trouble comes when they bump into the reader’s cheating ex-boyfriend.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol, and drinking. Minor violence, and mentions of sex and cheating.

A/N: I was inspired to write this one shot after the song Blame it on the Double by Cory Marks.

Word Count: 1332

Jason held the door open for Y/N, and she walked into the bar.

Usually, they didn’t go out to a bar, they were both more comfortable in their own apartment with a bottle a whisky between them and they’d order a pizza.

But tonight, they were celebrating, Y/N had finally quit her job and was moving on to something better; with a much better income.

When they got to the bar, Jason ordered a rum and coke for Y/N, her favourite is Captain Morgan’s, then he ordered himself a double Jack Daniels and coke.

Jason liked whisky, and he’d be lying if he said Jack Daniel’s wasn’t is favourite, but he did enjoy many other brands of whisky. He couldn’t believe his luck when Y/N came home with the weekly shop, saying she had a surprise for him.

He looked in the bag and found a bottle of Jack Daniel’s BBQ sauce. Y/N still makes jokes that he almost cried, and he held it in his hands like a new-born baby.

 The barman put the glass of Y/N’s rum and coke in front of her, and he gave a warm smile, then he gave Jason his and said, “There ya go buddy.” And Jason handed him the money.

 It wasn’t very busy, they both noticed. It was still early though; 5:30PM. Y/N suggested they should go out a bit earlier as it’s a Friday night, and Jason agreed that it was a good idea, they planned to order a pizza when they got home; which wasn’t going to be late at all.

 They sat at an empty table, and Jason smiled widely at Y/N, “Babe, I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Y/N smiled.

“Seriously, I know you’re better than that job.” Jason added, Y/N smiled at him.

Jason took a sip of his Jack Daniels and coke; it tasted good.

 “What time do you start on Monday?” He asked.

“Ten o’clock.” Y/N replied, sipping her drink.

“Do you need anything for your first day?” He asked.

“Jay,” She said, placing her hand on top of his, “I’m fine. I have everything.”

“I’m sorry, I just want you to do really well in this job.” He replied.

“Thanks Jay.”

He smiled, taking another sip of his drink.

 The doors opened and a small group of young men walked in. They were loud, and Jason noticed some of the other customers rolling their eyes as their peace was disrupted. Some of them even downed their drinks and left.

Jason wondered if this group of men were regular visitors and had a reputation for being loud and disruptive.

Y/N gasped. “What?” Jason asked.

“Shit. It’s my ex.” She muttered, quickly sipping her drink. Jason whipped his head around, “Which one?” He asked when he looked back at her.

“Blonde, in the gillet.” She replied.

Jason looked back to the group, and he immediately saw the one; tall, blonde hair, not as well kept as Jason though; much to his relief. In fact, Jason thought that he looked like a total meathead.

“Him? He’s the one who cheated on you?” Jason asked, Y/N nodded, “Jamie.”

Jamie was obnoxious, rude, and selfish.

Jason looked at Jamie, and he wondered what on earth possessed him to cheat on Y/N; he thought it ought to be the other way around.

Jason could see the annoyance on the barman’s face as he tried to take the boys’ drink orders, they were more invested in their loud conversation than anything else.

Y/N was nearly finished her drink when she said, “Can we go?”

Jason nodded, and he downed the rest of his Jack Daniels, reminding himself to pick up a bottle on the way home.

When they stood up, Jason grabbed Y/N’s hand.

But Jamie noticed them, “Y/N? That you?” He asked, “It is you!”

Y/N mentally rolled her eyes, and she heard Jason scoff.

“Babe, how are ya?” Jamie asked, as he went to hug Y/N, but she backed away, smelling the alcohol on him. That was the other thing about Jamie, he liked to drink…a lot.

“Fine.” She replied.

“I missed you.” He smirked, winking at her. “Didn't take you long to move on I see.”

“You moved on before we were even separated.” Y/N commented, and some of Jamie’s friends exchanged looks with each other.

He was the group's ringleader. He like to be bossy, and he liked to be the centre of attention.

Jason smiled at Y/N’s comment.

“Jamie, this is Jason. My boyfriend.”

“You’re the new boyfriend, huh?” Jamie looked Jason up and down, before his eyes went back to Y/N.

“And you’re the ex, huh?” Jason replied, Jamie looked back at him.

Y/N knew what Jason was like after he’d had a drink; sarcastic, pushed his luck, and pouted when he didn’t get his way.

But she also knew what Jamie was like after he’d had a drink too; louder, ruder, demanded that things go his way, and occasionally violent when he didn't get what he wanted.

She hoped she could drag Jason out of the bar before they both lost their tempers with each-other.

 “Wasn’t entirely my fault, Y/N. Our separation.” Jamie said.

Y/N raised her eyebrow, “How?” She asked calmly.

Jamie paused for a few seconds, Y/N remembered his awful behaviour; sometimes he would pretend to be overthinking something, just to add to the sarcasm, “You just weren’t good enough.”

Jason’s face dropped, and Jamie’s friends looked uncomfortable. Y/N recognised some of them, Charlie, Cory, and Fabian, and she remembered they were the most reasonable of Jamie’s friends; they were more likely to talk him out of doing something stupid, not that it worked at all.

Y/N felt Jason tense beside her, his hand had tightened around hers.

“I mean, Jessica, she was more for me, y’know?”

“No, I don’t.” Y/N replied.

“But Caitlin, wow, she was good in bed.” Jamie said, he smirked at Y/N, “Unlike yo-”

It happened so quickly; Jason punched Jamie across his jaw. He stumbled back against the bar, gripping it for support. None of his friends could believe what they had just witnessed; Jamie taken by surprise.

“Shut the fuck up!” Jason growled.

“You don’t wanna fuckin’ do that again.” Jamie shouted, and he was just about to swing his fist at Jason when the barman grabbed his arm, “You out!” He exclaimed.

Jamie looked baffled, “What? You saw what he did!”

“I did, and I also heard you disrespecting a woman.” He pointed to the sign above him, which read, ‘Respect women, or no service’

“You’re lucky my wife isn’t here tonight, Betty would beat your ass outta here.” The barman said, crossing his arms over his chest, “Now out.”

Jamie growled and he stormed out of the pub, “Let’s go!” He exclaimed, but none of his friends followed him.

“Come on!” He shouted.

“He didn’t kick us out.” Fabian said.

Jamie looked amongst his friends, then he looked at Jason and Y/N, and he realised everyone was staring at him, he growled, “Fuck!” He stormed out of the bar.

“Sorry about him, Y/N.” Fabian apologised. “You don’t have to apologise for him, Fabian, he’s always been an arsehole.” Y/N replied.

Fabian smiled, “Yes, he has.”

“Have a good night, guys.” Y/N said, and she dragged Jason out the door, and Fabian, Charlie and Cory shouted, “Bye, Y/N.”

As she was buckling her seat belt, she noticed Jason rubbing his knuckles, “Sore?” She asked, and he nodded, “What the fuck did you see in him?” He laughed, and Y/N laughed along with him, “Fuck knows.” She replied.

 Y/N fished for her car keys in her bag. She unlocked the car and they both climbed in.

As she started the car, she groaned, “God, I’m so hungry, I’ve been thinking about pizza since we arrived here!”

Jason smiled, and the car set off home.

He watched Y/N as she drove. And he wondered, how could anyone get dislike her?

He was the luckiest man on Earth.