#this is not my best work BUT i had to make something for you molly!!

[crossedwiress]

happy birthday molly @burstingsunrise 💜

[rhysazriel]

Smoke & Light: Part 2 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: Azriel hasn’t been able to get you out of his head, and when you agree to smoke with him and go for a drive, truths aren’t the only things that are shared. (6.6k)

WARNINGS: lots to unpack tbh, so let’s start with swearing, (male) masturbation, teasing, flirting, kissing (!!!!!), mentions of abusive families, reoccurring themes of use of recreational drugs (weed), Az driving while smoking/stoned (I do not condone that so please do not do that in real life!!)

A/N: firstly, thank you so incredibly much for all of the love on part one, I’m so excited to share what I have planned for this series!! This part is longer than the first, so maybe grab a drink and a snack hehe

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Why don’t we give the brownies idea a try?”

Azriel’s head felt like it may explode. For the past two hours, he’d been stuck in a discussion between his brothers regarding new ideas for new products to sell. And while Az and Rhys had no ideas to suggest (all agreeing cocaine, molly and ket were not up for discussion), Cassian was still hellbent on making weed brownies—despite knowing not a damn thing about baking. 

“Cass,” Rhys sighed, pinching sharply at the bridge of his nose. Azriel was going to lose his shit, he couldn’t go through this again—for a fifth fucking time. “We literally spoke about this last week! None of us know how to bake!” 

Cassian paid no mind to Rhysand’s clear frustrations with him and scoffed as he threw his head back on the couch. “It can’t be that fucking hard.” 

“Then by all means, buy your own shit and burn it while you try and figure it out.” 

Azriel blinked, looking between the pair. He’d barely said a word, too worried he may get a bit too heated. Cassian got like this sometimes—most of the time—and more often than not, Az got the idea he only did it to get a reaction out of Rhys, who had very little patience when it came to him.

Someone had to play mediator and devil’s advocate in every situation, and somehow, even since they were teens, that role always landed on Azriel’s shoulders. 

Deciding enough was enough, he leant forward and peered between them both. “As much as edibles would help out sales, Rhys is right,” Cassian snickered at him, “It’s not a good idea right now. Not when we have no clue what we’re doing, and especially not when we’re having problems with our supplier right now.”

It was silent in the room for a moment, for the first time in an hour. And after a few minutes passed and no one spoke, Rhys stood from the couch with a sigh. “I’ve gotta get going to the parlour. All my sketches are there and I’ve got a long day and a huge back piece to tattoo tomorrow.” 

He clapped a hand against both Az and Cassian’s shoulders before bidding them a goodbye and leaving. Cassian remained sulking on the couch, thick and toned arms crossed on his chest with an unsatisfied scowl on his face. Azriel took purchase on the coffee table in front of him, lips pursed to suppress his amusement.

Cassian often got like this if he was told no or something didn’t go his way. When they were younger, Azriel used to roll his eyes and tell him to get over it. But now, in their mid-twenties and Cassian sharing a striking resemblance to that hunky character from that one Disney movie, Azriel found his sulking the best form of entertainment. 

“Are you not working tonight?” Az broke the silence with a lighthearted question. As much as he found his brothers face amusing, he didn’t really have the energy to deal with it all fucking night. He had shit to do, people to see. And he didn’t particularly want to bring Cassian along to his drop off’s—not when Cass scared the shit out of most people. 

“Club’s closed, waiting for Nes to finish. Staying at hers tonight,” he mumbled.

Relief was quick to flow through Azriel’s blood as he let out a breath. His phone chimed from his back pocket as he said, “Tell her I say hi,” and a gentle smile tugged at the corners of Cassian’s mouth.

Az and Nesta had a decent friendship, he was closer to her than he was Feyre, but maybe that was because Nesta didn’t tiptoe around Az like most other people did. Maybe that was why he liked you so much. You didn’t shy under his gaze, and you didn’t treat him differently after noticing his scarred hands. 

Yes, he saw you watching, inspecting with hurt and curious eyes. But you didn’t say anything so neither did he. And when you purposely brushed your skin against his when you took that bag of bud, he knew you’d done it out of silent reassurance. 

And yet, he hadn’t heard from you since you met three days ago. Not that he expected you to message so soon, not after you said the 3.5 would last around two weeks, but he still felt that deep disappointment whenever he checked his phone and your name wasn’t the one to have messaged him. 

He needed to get a grip on himself, really. But you were different. So different from anyone he’d ever met or known before. You didn’t play up to any facade, you didn’t hesitate to tease him back. You were honest, painfully so when you admitted you were clueless, but that only made him find you even more endearing. 

“What about you?” Cassian’s voice drilled into his ears, abruptly pulling Azriel away from the memory of you. He quickly typed back a reply to a client that he could drop off within the hour and shoved his phone back in his pocket. 

“What about me?” Az asked. 

“Any plans?” 

Azriel shrugged, elbows leaning on his spread thighs and the oak coffee table creaked beneath his firm weight. “I’ve got a few deals to do, but that’s about it.”

Cass nodded, finally unfolding his arms and letting them drop to his sides. “Well, you know where I’ll be if you wanna come by, Nes would be happy to see you.”

Azriel raised a brow. “I saw her two days ago.”

His brother gave him a look, one that suggested ‘yeah, I know, but you’re like her best friend and she loves you to literal death’, and that was that. 

Cass left soon after, picking Nesta up from work and leaving Azriel home alone for what seemed like the thousandth night in a row. He didn’t mind it, not really. He enjoyed his own company and when Cass stayed at Nesta’s and Rhys stayed at Feyre’s, it meant Az could play around with new melodies and not be scolded for playing guitar at 4 a.m. and waking everybody up. 

Having the apartment to himself was a win-win for everyone involved. 

Only tonight, he didn’t want to sit and play with new sounds and rhythms. Not when his mind was completely distracted by you. By your smile, your eyes, by that sensual voice of yours that he hadn’t stopped replaying in his memory for the past three days. 

It wouldn’t hurt to send just one text, right? Just the one, just to check in on how you were finding the bud. As if you hadn't smoked it before they met. 

He shouldn’t. This wasn’t what he did—he didn’t chase after girls, he never had, and he most certainly did not get hooked—especially not on someone he’d known for three days. 

And yet, despite that, Azriel found himself on your messages, hovering his fingers over the keyboard and typing out a quick text and sending it before he could even think about it. 

Azriel: how’s the bud?

But it wasn’t his lack of thinking before sending the message that had his jaw slack, no. It was the fact that as soon as the message travelled from the box to the messaging thread, you had already opened it. Like you were already on the chat. Perhaps debating your own text to him. 

Those grey bubbles appeared at the bottom of the screen and Azriel made quick work to click out of the conversation. His heart should not have been stammering in his chest the way it was, he should not have felt so anxious about what you may think if he read your text as quickly as you read his. 

You: very good. And you were right. 7 joints! 

And then, another.

You: I may need a top up sooner than i thought, if that’s ok?

Azriel: what happened to it lasting you 2 weeks?? Nah, that’s fine. Did you wanna meet up tonight?

You: would that be ok?

Azriel: yes. Old tower in 20?

You: life saver <3 see u then!

He tried his damned hardest not to stare at the little heart you sent him, tried his best not to picture you thinking about texting him to meet up again. But all he tried, it didn’t work and a smirk began to tug at the corners of his mouth. 

//

His Ford Mustang parked outside the Old Tower fifteen minutes later, the engine still humming softly and his eyes flitted between the rearview mirror and his view in front of him, trying to gauge which way you’d come from. 

He didn’t expect for you to come out of the shadows in a third direction, one in the wake of the passengers side, and he didn’t realise until the door opened and you slid your body inside his car, shutting the door behind you. 

“Hi,” you turned to him with a beaming smile—eyes gently blazed with a moody pink hue. 

Azriel drank you in. Your hair was down today in what he presumed was your natural waves, face bare of makeup save for the sheen of pinky lip gloss that coated your mouth. You wore an oversized cropped olive cardigan; the large buttons done up just enough to offer a slither of a peek of the white bralette you wore beneath, and a pair of straight-legged black cargos. 

Gods, you looked even better than he remembered, but Azriel wasn’t naive to your staring either. Your eyes caught notice of his thick, muscled arms. They weren’t hidden beneath a jacket this time. No. They bulged from the black t-shirt he wore, and his brown skin was etched in intricate swirls and shapes and designs in black ink. 

You gulped, visibly so. Tattoos had always been an immediate attraction for you—not that Brandon ever had any—but the sight of Azriels and the one that hid beneath the sleeve of his top and curled up and around his neck… Gods, your throat felt extremely dry.

And Azriel noticed everything. 

“I thought you said you didn’t smoke much?” 

Your eyes finally snapped to his hazel ones and warmth coated your cheeks and chest. You cleared your throat, blinking a few times to regain some sense of composure. “I don’t,” you retorted. “Girls night. And it was my turn to host.” 

Azriel tried not to think too deeply into the idea of you having a night at home with your girlfriends, stoned and warm and cosy and all inhibitions thrown out the window. He wondered if those were the types of things you did with your friends. He’d been with a few before that did. 

He looked away as soon as he felt that familiar tightening in his jeans. “So, you want another 3.5?” He cleared his throat, lifting the compartment between your seats. 

You hummed, eyes following his movements. Your gaze lingered on his biceps for a moment, trailing down to the veins that protruded from his smooth skin. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. Oftentimes than not, you found yourself horny and riled up when under the influence, but never like this. Never so strongly at the sight of two veiny, tattooed arms. 

“Um, yeah… please.” You finally spoke. “I promise it’ll last me longer than three days this time.”

Azriel prayed to the fucking mother above that it didn’t. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he retrieved a 3.5 baggie and handed it to you, closing the compartment again and the second he opened his mouth to speak, you were already grabbing a marred hand and shoving two twenty’s into it before forcing his fist closed. 

Perhaps it was the buzz of the joint you smoked on your way, or perhaps it was the pure arousal you felt at the sight of him and the feel of his hand in yours that gave you a surge of confidence. Whatever it was, it had you saying, “Pretty clients might get a discount from you, but incredibly attractive, tattooed plugs get full pay from me.”

Azriel was stunned for a moment, by both your boldness and the shameless compliment. His mouth blubbered open, a retort just as flirty as yours on the tip of his tongue when the sound of his ringtone blaring through the car’s bluetooth speaker cut him off. 

He disconnected the call a bit too quickly, an amused smile teetering on the curves of your already twisted lips. Azriel paid no mind to his own actions, instead turning back to you with a fire in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. 

His lips parted in another attempt to speak when that gods-dammed phone interrupted him for a second time and you could no longer hold your laughter. Azriel decided there and then that the next time he saw you, he’d make sure he heard that sweetness again. 

You didn’t give him time to cut the call off again. Instead, you reached for the door handle and offered a grateful smile. “I’ll text you when I’m out.”

His senses were too on overdrive. Too torn between wanting to stop you, even if to spend a few more moments in your presence, and the deafening sound of his fucking phone. But you’d exited the car and closed the door behind you before he could do anything about it. The cash was still stuffed in his warm hands and the incoming call continued to make his ears bleed. 

“What?” Azriel seethed the second he answered the call. It was silent for a moment, the caller caught off guard by Az’s tone but that only pissed him off further. 

“It’s Brandon,” the line paused for a moment again. “You about?” 

Azriel felt his blood boil. “If I don’t fucking answer the first time, that usually means no.”

He disconnected the call without another word, marred hands now gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. He hated the way he was reacting over you—over being interrupted from your presence. But he couldn't help it. Couldn’t get the thought out of his head of how sweet your lips probably tasted with that gloss. And without it. 

Azriel’s chest heaved slightly, that all too familiar sense of arousal tightening in his pants. He couldn’t stand this, couldn't understand how a tiny slip of your bralette could have his mind and body reacting like this. How a subtle smirk and a sultry gaze could have him ready to blow a load in his pants. 

Christ, he needed to sort himself out. Absent-mindedly, Azriel snuck a hand between his thighs, large scarred hand palming at his length through the fabrics. His breathing turned quicker, his moments growing needier. If he didn’t sort himself out soon he’d been in agony. 

With one hand on the wheel, he forced himself to drive—only for a moment or two until his Mustang was parked idly between two buildings and switched off the engine to not draw too much attention to himself. 

He was above this—above getting himself off semi-publicly. But he couldn’t fucking help it. He didn’t care how shameful and icky he might’ve felt afterwards, not when he was so desperate. 

As soon as the car was covered in shadows of darkness, he unclasped his seatbelt and unpopped the buttons of his jeans. He didn’t bother to pull them down, only releasing the zip and reaching into his boxers to tug his length free. 

The second he felt his skin on him, he shuddered. His slender fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, offering himself a teasing squeeze as he slowly moved. Azriel didn’t need lube or lotion—not when pearly beads of semi-translucent arousal leaked from his pink, ruddy tip. He smoothed it down his length, mewling at the contact he rewarded himself. 

And all he could think about was you. 

Your eyes, your lips, your voice.

He let his mind wander to sinful images of what may lay hidden beneath your clothes—beneath that little white bralette. Azriel quickened his pace as his eyes fluttered closed, the back of his head hitting the headrest. He throbbed in his hand, a gruff moan tearing from his throat. 

Azriel could picture you clearly in his head; on your knees in the footwell, your dainty hands around his cock as your lips kissed and sucked him. His hand in your hair, bobbing you on his length, watching your eyes water from the size of him as he hit the back of your throat. 

His breathing grew ragged, filthy images of your choking on his cock filling his brain, clouding his sensing and coaxing a release out of him. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever come so quickly before in his life, but the idea of you looking up at him with sultry eyes through thick lashes had him spurting warm ribbons of cum into his hand as he cupped his head to minimise the mess. A desperate attempt to replicate what he imagined the warmth of your mouth would feel like. 

As his breathing began to even out, the post-nut clarity hit him like a ton of fucking bricks. Shame boiled in his blood, a tint of pink embarrassment painted on his cheeks as if the shadows judged him, too. The idea of seeing you again while knowing what he’d done to the thought of you… it made his insides churn slightly. 

But more than that, it made his cock leap again in anticipation of soon being in your presence once more. 

//

“Az, what do you say? Up for a double date?” 

Feyre couldn’t hide her smile, unable to keep her emotions in check when it came to her attempts to set Azriel up. But the instant disappearance of his smile wasn’t missed on her. Nor was the way his shoulders tensed slightly. 

He sighed. “Fey, as much as I appreciate your concern for my love life, I don’t need to be set up.”

She pouted at him. Despite that always being his answer, she still held a shred of hope every time she suggested it. Even if he never changed his mind, she was willing to continuously try, even if he did find it annoying. Even if she didn’t tell him until the very last minute. 

“Who’s the lucky girl then, Az?” Nesta piped up with a wide grin from her seat in the couch, tucked closely into Cassian’s side who paid no mind to the conversation at hand. 

He rolled his eyes at her. “There is no girl.” 

“Guy, then.” Nesta scoffed, waving a hand. 

Azriel didn’t want to entertain this conversation, especially not because it had somehow brought his mind back to you. Something he’d been so desperately trying to avoid. 

Though, he supposed it was inevitable. He would be seeing you again at some point and then he’d be stuck right back where he started. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure why he was doing this to himself— why he didn’t allow himself to pursue you if that was what he truly wanted. 

His phone chimed from his pocket. 

In hindsight, it was probably a good thing that Azriel didn’t hear from you for two weeks. It gave him ample time to attempt to get his hormones in check, but it didn’t stop his blood from warming everytime he received a notification. Each time, he was left with slight disappointment to find it was just another client. 

Until today. Until now. Where your name was in fact the one on his lockscreen and all of that forgetting and willing to get you out of his mind faltered. 

You: Hey, are you free later?

Azriel: I'm free all night.

When you didn’t respond, Azriel assumed you were looking for a more direct answer. So he sent another text. 

Azriel: old tower in an hour good for you?

You: see you then.

He couldn’t help the frown that furrowed in his brows at your reply. Given, your only communication was mainly through text, and perhaps he was looking too much into it, but you didn't seem yourself. And that thought shouldn’t have irked him as much as it did. 

He barely bid anyone a goodbye, throwing a mumbled ‘see you later’ as he grabbed his shit and left. 

His first stop was to Sean, a lean Asian guy that had been buying off Azriel for two years now. He was decent enough, never tried to haggle or complain about the prices. They shared a mutual respect and minimal words were shared when Az handed him a Q and Sean gave 140 in one swift motion. 

And just like that, Azirel moved onto the next.

And then another. 

And another. 

Until he was waiting at the Old Tower and watching your silhouette approach the Mustang. You entered the car just like you always had done, though you didn’t meet his gaze this time. Instead, you kept your line of view ahead. Your hair obstructed the side of your face, effectively shielding you from his prying eyes. 

“Sorry I’m a little late.” 

Azriel absolutely did not like the quake in your voice as you spoke, nor did he like the way you seemed to cower into your body and clothes. Clothes that didn’t seem to match your usual vibe—instead, the mismatched black sweatpants and bright pink puffer jacket gave off the impression you threw on whatever was around you. 

Somehow, Azriel still thought you made it look good. On you, the outfit looked both planned and effortless. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that that wasn’t the case. 

“You good?” he asked through the piercing silence. 

You hummed, twisting the bulky silver ring on your thumb. “Yeah, just tired.” You tried your hardest to offer a convincing smile as you turned to him, but Azriel noticed the way it didn’t meet your eyes—the eyes that appeared slightly bloodshot, though he had a suspicion it wasn’t from smoking.

Not wanting to press on the matter, Az opened the compartment and pulled out a baggie of your usual amount and kept it pinched between two scarred fingers. You reached for it, the cash in your other hand but he kept his grip tight. 

Azriel raised a brow. “You’re sure you’re alright?” 

You could see the concern flood his hazel eyes, and the sight pulled on your aching heartstrings. How could someone who was a virtual stranger care more for you than the ones who were much closer in your life?

You didn’t trust your words, so you nodded and he finally released his hold on the bag. “Alright,” Az sighed. “It’s a different strain than my usual stuff, so go a little lighter with it. It’s pretty strong.” 

You were incredibly thankful for the warning, though you couldn’t help feeling a little offended. Did he really think you were so naive and new to this world that you couldn’t handle a new strain at your usual strength (which, admittedly, was very weak) without greening out? 

But as quickly as that feeling rose, it faded. He was a dealer, afterall, and he couldn’t afford to lose business all because someone thought they knew better and had a bad trip. 

“Thank you,” you muttered out, already reaching for the handle when his ruggedly soft voice stopped you. 

“You wanna smoke before you go? I can drop you back after.” 

You whipped your head to him, blinking through slightly blurred vision. With a brow raised and widened eyes, your lips parted. “Together?”

A smile stretched across his full lips, one so full of charisma and keen interest that it awakened something deep in the pit of your stomach. Something you distinctly remember feeling the last time you saw him. 

“Why not?” 

You swallowed as your hand slowly fell from the handle and made its way back in your lap. Your smile morphed into a smirk that matched his and the air shifted into something unreadable. Something palpable but not quite real. 

“Really? Do you normally smoke with your clients?” 

Azriel’s wicked grin widened. “I do with the cute ones.” 

You choked on a laugh, rolling your head back until it hit the headrest and Azriel didn’t think he’d ever seen or heard anything so fucking beautiful in his life. That laugh would haunt him in his dreams to a blissful paradise. 

“First, I’m pretty. Now I’m cute… what’s next?” 

Damn the rules he set himself. Damn the restrictions he forced when it came to someone who piqued his interest. It was about time Azriel took what he wanted for once. Even if that meant he started with no longer feeling guilty for flirting with you. 

Chewing at the inside of his cheek, Azriel started up the engine and shifted the gearstick. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” 

He tilted his head to the dashboard compartment and you pulled it open. The small warm white light lit the cove, a golden hue casting on a small yellow tin. Throwing a glance to Azriel, he nodded and you pulled it out, closing the compartment and popping open his travel tin. 

It was packed with perfectly rolled joints and blunts. The smell was strong—potent—but you didn’t mind. Not as much as you had before. You picked one random of the bunch and pinched it between two fingers. It was rolled tightly and packed full, a very small twist of paper at the end and you hummed, impressed. 

Of course he could roll perfectly. And you had a feeling just two pulls of one of those would keep you warm and fuzzy for the remainder of the night. 

“There’s a lighter in the cup holder.” Azriel spoke as he pulled out of the space and began to drive further out of the lights of the city. 

You pinched the lighter. Just a simple black one, no funky pattern or engraved initials like most others had. No, Azriel’s was one that came in a pack of five and the other four were somewhere in the car or back at his apartment. 

“We can smoke in here?” you asked softly, that crack in your voice easing. 

Az hummed, taking a right turn. “If you’re comfortable to.”

You waited a moment, eyeing the joint and then him. “You drive when you smoke?” 

He seemed to notice your somewhat apprehension when he nodded again. He turned to you briefly before flicking his eyes back on the road again. “I drive better when I’m stoned. But if you’d prefer, we can park up somewhere.” 

You shook your head, warmth caressing every inch of your body. You didn’t know what it was, but something had overcome you. An overwhelming sense of pure yearning. You could admit when you first met Az that he was attractive, incredibly so. But now? Watching him, speaking with him, smoking with him… oh God’s… you had a fucking crush on your plug. 

“You wanna start it or should I?” Azriel’s voice broke you from your epiphany and you blinked quickly, willing the rising heat to just fuck off and give you a moments reprive. 

“Oh,” you squeaked. “You can, it’s your weed.” 

He didn’t look away from the road, not for a second. With a hand on the wheel and the other shifting gears, he edged his head closer to yours and angled his face just slightly with his lips parted. You were stunned for a moment, realising what he was asking you to do, and you swallowed back that bubbling arousal as you placed the unlit joint to his lips and sparked up a flame, igniting the end.

Az hummed in thanks as he took a long, deep drag. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was a fucking sight. Cheeks ever so slightly hollowed and eyes barely squinted as the smoke filled his lungs. 

A scarred hand left the gearstick to reach for the joint, his thumb reaching for the bottom while his forefinger grazed the top and he pulled it away with another fresh intake of breath, settling the drug further. 

You were soaked, you were sure of it. Your previous problems from today were a distant memory as you finally watched him exhale and bring the joint to his lips again for another long pull. 

The sound of the windows opening broke you from your trance and only then did you realise you hadn’t yet put on your seatbelt. You tore your gaze away to clip yourself in and when you turned back, Azriel was offering you the joint. 

With your free hand, you accepted it, the other stuffing the cash in his cup holder with the lighter. You inspected the joint, tried not to let your heart race. You’d only ever smoked with your friends and Brandon. Never with a dealer. Never with someone like Azriel. 

You slotted your pursed lips over the same area Az did, and inhaled as deeply as you could. The burn at the back of your throat was stronger than when you smoked your own joints, and as it filled your lungs you pulled it away and held back a cough that gagged to release from your throat. 

With a shaky exhale, you swallowed around the dryness of your mouth before bringing it back to your lips for another drag. When you pulled it away, the burn wasn’t as bad and you passed it back to Azriel who took another turn on the roads. 

“Where are we going?” You pondered, a certain rasp to your voice from the strength of the joint. 

Azriel took two short pulls and angled the burning end out the window, flicking off the excess ash before offering it to you again. 

“Wherever you want,” he replied. “But first, we should probably get some food for when the munchies kick in.” 

You laughed as you exhaled another breath and handed the joint back to him, waving a hand to signal you were tapping out and did not intend on smoking anymore. Five pulls of that shit was more than enough for you. You could not handle the idea of greening out in his car with him. 

Azriel stifled a laugh and finished off the rest of the joint by the time he pulled into a drive-thru. He placed his order first, turning to you with flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. You blinked a few times, your brain requiring a few moments to catch up with what was happening. 

“I’ll have the same as you.” 

He stifled a laugh as he spoke into the machine, doubling up on his order and driving through to the next window. Azriel paid no mind to you when you attempted to offer him your money—barely even looked at you as he tapped his card against the reader and then reached for the cash in the cup holder, shoving it back in your empty palms. 

“You can keep that, too.”

You knew it wasn’t up for discussion, so you begrudgingly took your cash back and stuffed it into your jacket pocket again. Az stopped in the parking lot, the two of you eating through hushed yet uncontrollable giggles at the people that passed by. 

It was the first time you’d heard his laugh so unrestricted and it spread another shot of warmth through your body. It continued like that for another undisturbed hour, where after the food, Az sparked up another joint and began the drive to your apartment. You’d told him Old Tower was fine, but he wasn’t okay with that. 

“Too many freaks around at this time of night. I’ll drop you to your door. Put your address in the GPS.”

And it wasn’t until the drive back to your apartment that you were reminded of your previous troubles. The ones that caused your teary eyes and sombre mood. The buzz off the night felt like it had dwindled away the second you thought of your situation, and you were left slumped in your seat again, fiddling with your fingers. 

Azriel noticed your change in mood almost immediately as he glanced over to you before flicking his eyes back to the road. He took another drag of the joint. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You pondered his offer for a few moments, weighing out whether or not you should. In the end, what difference would it make? If you divulge your issues or not, it wouldn’t fix them. But perhaps talking about it might help. 

“My sister got married yesterday and no one told me.”

Azriel blinked rapidly, almost spluttering on the breath he exhaled. “What?” 

“Yeah.” 

He waited patiently, eager for some sort of explanation as to how and why something like that was kept from you. But he didn’t know the relationship with your family, he couldn’t presume anything. For all he knew, you had troubles just like his. 

“My family and I didn’t have the best relationship growing up. I was born from a toxic relationship so I was cast aside as a kid, I guess. I thought we were past that, though. I thought things were better.”

That familiar ache sat heavy in Azriel’s chest. He knew all too well the hurt that came from being shunned by your own family. He wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Especially not somebody like you. 

“I’m sorry.” His words held such compassion and sympathy. No pity, just pure understanding. 

You blinked back the tears, not wanting to show just how much it had all affected you. But it was no use. A single drop slipped down your cheek and as quickly as it fell, you wiped it away. 

You were agitated now, extremely so. “I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend, Az.”

“Why would they do that?”

There was a pause. And then, “because her now husband was my first everything.” 

You waited for the statement to settle into the thick night air. Your first kiss, first boyfriend, first time. First love. Azriel could understand even more now just how much it hurt you. And the fact they kept it a secret? Even your family knew what they did was wrong. 

“I’m so sorry, that’s truly fucked. But you know, families suck sometimes. I only speak to my mom.”

“Oh?” You hadn’t realised you were even on your street until he parked right outside your apartment and flicked on his hazards. 

Azriel flicked the but of the smoke out the window and held out his hands, showcasing the marred flesh and patchy skin. “My half brothers did this to me when I was eight. They didn’t like that our mom had me with another man before she had them. They said that my bastard blood tainted the family, so they wanted to taint me.” 

Azriel had absolutely no fucking idea why he was divulging such an intimate and traumatic part of himself. But he made no attempt to hide or sugarcoat any of the truth. Especially not when he looked up from his hands and caught sight of your face. 

Salty tears silvered the linings of your eyes at the truth of what had happened to him. Bile crept up your throat and hatred for his family formed. Eight years old. You felt sick. 

“Az… I’m so sorry. That’s… I can’t even…”

But Azriel waved it off with a gentle smile. “It’s awful, sure. But I’m fine. I wouldn’t have met Cass and Rhys if that didn’t happen. They may be my found family, but they’re my brothers. Blood doesn't mean shit to me.

A single tear slipped down your warm cheek, staining the skin in its wake. Azriel reached out to wipe it away, his touch gentle and soft and yet all-consuming. Your gaze met in a flickering glance of hazy eyes and fluttering lashes. 

And then next thing you knew, your lips were on his. 

Azriel was quick to kiss you back; moulding his plump lips around yours as his large palms cupped the sides of your face. He was sweet on your mouth, a hint of salt from his fries and he swiped his tongue across the seam of your lips, you almost imploded. 

Azriel was no better. The second he got a taste, he was a starved man. Your tongues met in needy strokes and Az had never tasted anything like you before. Sweet like the watermelon lip gloss you wore, and a tang of smoke that haunted your mouth. 

He was hooked, desperately fucking hooked. Your own hands reached up to hold his wrists in hopes of keeping his touch on you. Azriel kissed you deeper, licking across your teeth before settling even deeper in your mouth. 

It was needy and messy and every unspoken word of desire was poured into that kiss, your touch. He could stay like that forever, kissing you, tasting you. Azriel could feel himself stretching in his pants, and from the almost inaudible whimper that strained from the back of your throat, he was certain you were just as needy between your own thighs. 

The thought spurred him on, as it did you. Your hands trailed down his forearms to his biceps, feeling at the muscle that tensed beneath your touch, until your arms were wrapping around his neck and he was pulling you closer over the centre console. 

Azriel kept a palm caressing your jaw while the other snaked to the side of your neck, his long fingers weaving through the hair at your nape and blunt fingernails scratching at your scalp. 

In your drug and lust filled haze, Azriel was shifting in his seat. You let one arm leave his body to reach for your seatbelt, planning to unbuckle it and crawl into his lap for a deeper, richer taste of him. 

But the second the safety belt was released, the blaring sound of an incoming call through the car's speaker jolted you both apart. It was then, and only then, that the gravity of the situation finally sunk in. 

His eyes were glazed over with something you’d never seen on him before, his lips even plumper and smeared with your gloss. You didn’t look much better. Only your eyes were wider than his and your hair had been a lot more dishevelled. 

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the insistent ringing of his phone jarring your eardrums. For the fourth time tonight, warmth settled over you again but in the form of embarrassment. He confided in you about a trauma so deep, and you’d kissed him. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologised breathlessly. 

Too caught up in your own fear and anxiety of what you’d done, you missed the way Azriel’s brows furrowed. His confusion quickly turned into panic when the thought settled in that perhaps you had regretted it. That even though you kissed him, perhaps you felt he had pressured you. 

And that made him sick to his stomach. 

Before Azriel could utter a single word, your hand was on the door handle and you were pushing it open. “I’m sorry, I should go.” 

You climbed out of the car as you uttered another apology, and slapped the door shut without so much as offering him another glance. The incoming call died to voicemail but Az couldn’t take his eyes off your empty seat, couldn’t get the taste of you off his tongue, the feel of your lips off his. 

Frustration grew at himself. Azriel turned forward in his seat, nostrils flared and teeth grit. He’d fucked it. He’d gone and fucked it entirely. His open palm smacked against the wheel before gripping it tightly, taking a moment to compose himself. 

He looked over at your seat again. 

Despite the lack of your physical presence, you were still there. In scent and touch and taste. 

Azriel was fucking done for. 

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[messrmoonyy]

- The gilded cage

Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Request- how about some of the girls going along to the mayors party in Saint Denis. Have you seen the cut content of Molly when she was meant to be at the party? So Dutch takes Molly along, Arthur takes reader? And what if Arthur gets a a little jealous of reader mingling and then they sneak away for some smutty time together…

A/N- this is my first Arthur fic so he may be a lil out of character whilst I get to grips with writing him. I also have not written straight smut in like 2 years. But we vibe. Enjoy

Also shoutout to @devnmon for supporting and enabling my rdr2 brainrot. You’re a real one

Warnings- 18+ | smut: unprotected p in v, semi public sex ( wc - 7.7k )

Masterlist / AO3

Saint Denis was a little too rich for your blood. You’d only ventured into the city a handful of times, but the times you had you’d decided you didn’t really like it. You felt too… common. You never had liked the wealthy, flaunting their security and safety that was wrapped up in dollars and gold. 

But. You loved money. God did you love money. And as much as you hated the residents of the city, you sure loved robbing them blind. You always had had a knack for making the rich mysteriously lose their dollars and their watches, it had been the sole reason you’d ended up in Dutch’s gang in the first place. 

You’d even tried picking his pockets at first.

But you were on best behaviour tonight. Under Dutch’s orders. And you figured as boring as that sounded, you’d oblige. Simply because the men rarely let the girls get involved with any of the interesting stuff in camp. There was only so much laundry you could do before your brain truly went numb from boredom. Only so much listening to Miss Grimshaw nagging at you to do some work or Micah antagonising someone over something stupid. 

So even with Dutch’s strict orders to behave and your dislike of the city, you had jumped at the chance to come along to the party. 

“ i can practically smell the money “ you sighed as you took Arthur’s hand to step down from the coach, already hearing the bustle of the party happening somewhere out the back of the mansion in front of you “ you sure I can’t go pickin? Just a lil “ you were half joking, half not. On the times you had wandered into the city, the stuff you’d gathered picking your way around the saloons and back alleys had been a decent haul. The stuff some of these people carried around on the average day was enough to fund the food for the whole of camp for a couple days or more. 

Who knew what kind of goodies they’d have on them in their finery. 

“ no miss “ Dutch’s stern voice sounded, but he was sporting a small look of amusement “ keep those talented hands of yours to yourself. This is about business. We steal nothing. That goes for all of you. Steal. Nothing. Unless it’s information “ 

“ don’t worry. I’ll keep her in check “ Arthur spoke with a small chuckle, placing a hand lightly to your back. 

“ this is why we shouldn’t have brought the women. They always cause trouble “ Bill complained, as he stepped out of the second coach with Hosea, making you scowl. 

“ I hope you aren’t grouping me into that Mr Williamson “ Molly piped up with a disapproving scowl of her own as she stepped out of the coach, seemingly more mad at Dutch for not helping her out more than at Bill though. Arthur offered her his hand instead, helping her step onto the path without breaking her neck in her extravagant dress. 

Always the gentleman. 

She looked wonderful and you had begun to wonder if she had owned that dress all along or had gone out and got it special. Maybe Dutch had picked it up for her. It wouldn’t surprise you if she had been lugging it around from place to place, waiting for some perfect moment to pull it out. She always did look more put together than the majority of camp. Though you really didn’t understand how she could walk in the dress she was currently wearing, skirts full and you guessed pretty heavy too. 

“ no need to bring you “ Bill continued. 

“ I ain’t even causin’ trouble “ you piped in, throwing your own scowl Bills way again “ When did you last contribute to the box anyways huh Bill? I don’t see you doin’ nothin’ but sit around all damn day. No need to bring you I say. Jus’ cause you ain’t got no lady on your arm you’re complainin’ bout me and Molly “ 

“ what? A lady like you? I should be damn lucky I ain’t “ 

“ why you- “

“ Bill I suggest you leave it “ Arthur murmured lowly, planting himself between you and Bill before you did in fact cause some trouble. Bill grumbled something, spitting on the floor with a look of disgust and turning away from you. 

Dutch sighed heavily, looking increasingly pissed off at the group in front of him and held his arm out to Molly. 

“ Miss O’Shea “ It pained you a little to know he was probably only being nice to her tonight for appearances sake. He’d been practically ignoring her recently. And wasn’t doing Molly any good. You hoped a night out of camp would do her well “ now would you all just calm. Down. We, are simple distinguished gentleman, here for business. So start damn acting like it “ you scoffed at that, making a pointed look in Bills direction as you did 

“ distinguished my ass “ 

“ play nice now “ Arthur said quietly, but you heard the smile in his tone as he did. He then offered you his arm as Dutch had done to Molly. But unlike Dutch the act didn’t feel performative, a way to blend in and appear far higher class than they actually were. Arthur actually was a gentleman. For the most part anyways. 

“ why thank you mister “ you said in a cheery tone, throwing him a coy smile and slipping your gloved hands into the crook of his elbow. 

It did feel a little funny to be walking beside him like that. All dressed up and in clothes that weren’t smeared with gun oil, dust or god knows what else. It made your mind drift a little to what life could’ve been like. 

Your group crossed the street, promptly being stopped at the gates 

“ gentleman “ the guard greeted, taking the invitation from Dutch’s hands “ the mayor doesn’t allow guns at official functions “ the way he looked at Dutch and the others was almost demeaning. Like he knew you were all riff raff and of course would be the sort to attend such an event armed “ Not after last years incident “ none of the boys seemed particularly thrilled to be handing over their firearms. Arthur in particular sighed heavily beside you as he handed his pistol over. 

He didn’t like being unarmed. Especially when he was out with you. You usually also had your gun belt permanently fixed at your waist. But it wasn’t exactly fitting with your current attire. 

Though you did note the guards didn’t even spare a glance to you or Molly, which in turn made you all the more smug knowing you had your knife tucked into your boot. Just in case of course. 

“ Luca here will take you gentleman to Mr Bronte. I believe he is expecting you “ 

“ I know you got that knife in yer boot “ Arthur said lowly so that no one else would hear. 

“ he ain’t said anythin’ about knifes. Only guns “ Arthur smiled and shook his head slightly, placing his hand over yours for a moment. 

“ that’s my girl “ 

You walked up the neat cobbled path to the mayors house then, unable to do anything but look in awe at the huge house in front of you. You’d thought Shady Belle was something spectacular, had walked around every room imagining what it had looked like in all its glory. Amazed at the vastness of the place and all the rooms it had. 

And yet it was nothing compared to this place. This was real money. 

“ I look okay? “ you asked, suddenly feeling ever so slightly nervous, smoothing your hand over your skirts. Even in your attempts to look as clean and put together as you did, some part of you felt like everyone would see you were a walking sham. 

All in all you knew you probably did look fine. The dress was the most lavish thing you’d ever owned, you didn’t even want to guess how much it had cost Arthur. It was still on the simpler side, skirts not quite as full as Mollys and not as detailed. But it was beautiful. Pale pink and ruffled shoulders and details on your skirts, gloves up to your elbows in a material so soft you’d sighed when you’d first pulled them on. 

It all made a nice change from the usual simple clothes you wore, hips weighted by skirts rather than your gun belt. And skirts that didn’t have a million holes darned over. 

And Arthur had picked it all out. Had picked it himself especially for you. 

It did make you smile to imagine him in the tailors, completely out of his depth when it came to women’s fashion but determined to find you something nice. Your big, tough cowboy staring blankly at fabric swatches and fancy hats. 

“ gonna be the prettiest girl here “ you smiled warmly at his words, hand smoothing over your dress again. 

He’d turned up that morning into your shared room of shady Belle, finding you hiding away from Miss Grimshaw on the balcony, the dress draped over his arm along with some fancy suit and tie get up for himself. He’d looked almost sheepish as he’d shown you it, promising to go get you something else if you hated it. Which of course you hadn’t. 

You’d practically jumped with joy at being able to go out on a job. The boys so rarely let the girls do anything meaningful other than tend to camp. Though this particular outing you knew Dutch had only brought you and Molly along because it would make your group seem a little more agreeable. Something about women making them look a little less intimidating. And of course Dutch and Arthur’s partners were the most obvious of choices. 

Much to Mary-Beth and Karen’s dismay. Though they had very quickly changed their mind at the idea of having to hang off Bills arm all night. 

It wasn’t exactly the reason you wanted to be brought along. But you took it. 

The inside of the mansion was as glorious as the outside, it almost made you angry that people had such wealth. That these people could sleep in a new room each night of the week if they felt like it, when people were starving outside of their gates. 

“ Hosea, Bill. Take the ladies out and enjoy the party. We’ll join you after we pay our respects to signor Bronte. Arthur, with me “ Arthur gave a curt nod 

“ I won’t be long “ he assured, hand slipping down around your back and leaning down to your ear “ hands to yourself “ you scoffed as he said it, looking up at him as he stepped away from you. 

“ I can’t promise “ you caught his smile as he walked over to Dutch and the staff. Disappearing up the stairs. 

“ it’s just this way “ one of members of Lemieux’s staff spoke, gesturing the four of you in the direction of some doors leading out into the party. 

“ let’s go ladies. You fancy a drink? “ Hosea said cheerfully, following closely behind you and Molly as you headed outside. You were ushered out into gardens, a mass of the rich and wealthy of Saint Denis all crowded around. Drinking and laughing at things you were sure were not as remotely funny as they were making it out to be. 

Bill quickly made himself scarce, disappearing into the crowds to do lord knows what, much to your joy. 

“ right. Champagne? “ Hosea excused himself to collect some drinks and you stood on the back porch looking down at the groups of people. 

So far removed from what you were used to. You wondered how they’d react knowing you and your little group were currently sleeping in a barely standing plantation home, half of you out under the stars. That you were frauds. Not glamorous and wealthy like them. 

In your experience the rich liked to pretend the poor didn’t exist. Unless they were hiring them as help. 

“ oh I missed this “ Molly said beside you, almost dreamily in tone. And seemingly more to herself than to you. It was quite possibly the happiest you’d seen her look in days. 

She fit right in. Her gorgeous dress rivalling that of some of the other woman down in the courtyard, her hair piled up on her head and her fancy jewellery that was actually hers. Not something stolen from an unsuspecting lady in town. This was Molly. Money and wealth. It still baffled you how she had ended up with Dutch, how she could leave that all behind for a life wandering. 

“ you go to party’s like this a lot? Before Dutch I mean “ she gave a small shrug, searching in her small purse for a moment before placing a cigarette between her lips. You could imagine an even younger Molly, a bright eyed teenager done up all fancy and weaving her way through a party just like this one. 

“ sometimes “ her eyes were scanning the crowds, practically sparkling at being surrounded by the upper class again “ wonder what kind of people are here “ she seemed to be talking more to herself than you again and very promptly dismissed herself, heading down the stairs and gliding between the guests. Like some true social butterfly, decked out in her finest. 

Hosea returned with three glasses of champagne and a slightly confused look noticing Molly had vanished. 

“ eh more for me “ he said with a smile, handing you your glass before promptly finishing his own and moving onto what would’ve been Mollys “ I’m going to do some snooping. You’ll be alright? “

“ I’ll be jus’ fine Hosea “ you said with a smile and watched him too disappear down into the crowds. 

It was interesting to watch them, to see them behave as if this entire event was a normal evenings activity. Maybe for them it was. But it all felt so… false. People who appeared to be friends but didn’t seem to even really like each other, some silent competition between everyone to have the better dress. The better hat. The biggest house. 

You’d take your creaky cot under the stars with Arthur any day, would much rather sit around the campfire getting tipsy and singing. Surrounded by real family. Real friends. Relationships built on loyalty and protection. Not on trying to out do each other. 

You walked between the small crowds, eavesdropping on conversations in hopes to find something useful. Something to take back to Dutch to prove bringing you along wasn’t a useless endeavour. But it was mostly women discussing their elaborate hats, sharing stories of the terrible jobs their maids did, or complaining about their husbands poker habits. Or gossiping about how they had heard one of their friends was in delicate condition. 

You heard mentions of Leviticus Cornwall, but nothing concrete enough to warrant telling anyone about. 

You tried hunting down Molly, simply to have a friend to stand beside and not feel so…out of place. But she had vanished into the crowds somewhere. So you planted yourself on the side of an ornate water fountain, simply hoping Arthur would return soon. Maybe he’d dance with you, or take you walking around the vast garden laid out ahead of you. 

You two never really got the chance to do things like that. Romantic things. Arthur had his ways, of course. He’d take you out riding or sit with you on his lap by the fire, telling you about whatever interesting thing he’d discovered that day. He’d bring you flowers he’d pick from time to time, find you interesting things when he went wandering, let you read aloud to him with the excuse he wanted you to get better at it. When in reality you had seen him confess to his journal that he simply just liked to listen to your voice. 

He was far softer than he appeared. With you anyway. And as much as you didn’t like the kinds of people in attendance, you thought it might be nice to pretend for the night. To be two wealthy young oil tycoons, dancing and drinking champagne together, gushing about your money and your jewels. 

You made your way through another flute of champagne before he returned, interrupting your frivolous daydreaming. 

“ there she is “ you turned your head with a beaming smile at his voice, relief at a familiar face “ been lookin for ya “ he sat down beside you, looping an arm around your waist “ you behavin’? “

“ course I am. Ain’t took as much as a pearl “ you said quite proudly, though decided not to mention that the temptation had truly been hard to deny. Not only were these people rich, they were getting drunker by the second. They were practically begging to be robbed. 

“ good girl “ 

“ it go okay with ugh.. what’s his name? “ you asked, turning to face him. He looked just as uncomfortable with the entire situation as you did. This wasn’t his scene. It never had been. He’d grown up just as poor as you had. 

Arthur robbed the rich, he didn’t fraternise with them. 

“ Bronte. Yeah. Fine. Dutch he’s tryna find the mayor or somethin “ he ran a finger between his neck and collar of his shirt, clearly growing uncomfortable with it. It made you laugh a little. 

“ you ain’t cut out for the finer life “ 

“ no. I ain’t “ he was looking around at the guests in a similar way to you. With a mild sense of disgust “ saw some woman back there, hat so big she were topplin over “ you smiled and leant your head against his shoulder, he tucked you in closer to his side and dropped a kiss to the top of your head. 

“ was daydreamin whilst you were with Dutch “ you mused. 

“ yeah? About what? “ 

“ playin’ pretend. Bein’ fancy for the night. Y’know dancin’ and pretendin’ we got buckets of money “ the small sigh Arthur let out made you wonder if he thought that was a life you pined for. It wasn’t. Not really. Yeah, you liked money but.. you just wanted to be comfortable. Little ranch or a cabin some place quiet. Not poor. Not rich. Just. Existing happily “ ain’t us though “ 

“ you and me we… we ain’t like these people. We ain’t ever gonna be like these people “

“ we don’t gotta be. Me, you. Some pokey lil farm someplace out west? Now that’s the dream cowboy “ he chuckled and nodded, dropping another kiss to your head 

“ that’s the dream darlin’ “ you both sat quietly for a short while longer, watching the rich get drunker and more foolish. The odd person acknowledged your presence, greeting you as they passed or tipping their hat. But mostly they left you alone. It was at the point that one man drunkenly stumbled into a bush a few feet away that made you speak up again. 

“ never thought I’d miss that damn swamp. But lord above… these people “ Arthur scoffed as he too watched the fool try and right himself again, leaves sticking to the pomade in his hair 

“ yeah. I think I need a drink “ he patted your side lightly so you’d stop leaning on him and stood up “ champagne? “ 

“ oh well ain’t you just so kind sir “ you said in your best attempt a dramatic upper class drawl “ and you gonna dance with me after mister? “ you asked with a teasing smile and he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck for a moment looking almost sheepish. But he was smiling, the sweet genuine kind he only really seemed to show around you. 

“ sure darlin’. But I’m definitely gonna need that drink for that “ he ventured back into the crowds then and you stayed put, continuing to watch the guests laugh and talk about how incredible their lives were. 

“ I don’t recognise you “ an inquisitive voice spoke, tinged with that accent that the wealthy had started latching on to in some attempts to make themselves sound more superior. Smarter. Whatever. You thought it was quite ridiculous. You turned your head to look at the man, seeing if he was in fact talking to you. 

“ talkin’ to me mister? “ he was eyeing you up and down like he was somewhat intrigued but amused by you at the same time. A stupid top hat on his head adored with plumes and the chain of a pocket watch hanging from his pocket. It almost made you laugh at how your brain immediately began thinking about how you could steal it and how much it was worth. 

“ I am indeed miss “ he stepped closer, puffing on his cigar and not taking his eyes off of you for a second “ I have frequented many of the mayors parties but you… I do not remember you “ a small wave of panic flushed your skin but you remained calm. Not recognising you was far easier to work your way out of than if he had recognised your face. 

“ I’m new in town. My… uncle. He’s friends with Mr Bronte “ the man hummed, sitting himself down beside you. 

“ so you’re here with your uncle? “ you shifted slightly at his closeness but remembered you needed to keep up appearances so forced a smile onto your face 

“ yeah. And my husband. He’s around here someplace “ the man’s eyes immediately darted down to your gloved hands, probably noting the lack of a ring on your finger. You and Arthur weren’t married. But you may as well have been. He often referred to you as his wife, and he as your husband. 

He’d ask you one day. 

“ a lucky man “ the man said, blowing smoke in your direction and still looking you up and down. You decided at that moment you very much wanted to steal his watch. Dutch be damned. Having to put up with the likes of slimy rich men for more than ten seconds… well you figured that warranted you at least getting something shiny in return. 

“ oh well ain’t you just a charmer “ you said with a smile, placing a hand to his arm “ you here with your wife mister? “ the man laughed and shook his head, scooting a little closer to you.  

“ I’m more of a… free spirit “ you gave a small laugh, trying not to crinkle your nose at the smoke blowing in your face again. 

Arthur often smelt of fresh smoke, both cigarette and fire, and that fresh air smell that clung to your clothes after being out in the open air for hours. And you loved it on him, because it was well… him. The smoke from this man was far from appealing. But that watch…

“ ohh I see. You ain’t one to be tied down huh? “ your fingers inched closer to the man’s pocket, wrapping lightly around the chain. 

“ everythin’ okay here? “ Arthur appeared behind you, a glass in each of his hands.  

“ ah is this the fine man that brought you along? Well aren’t you lucky sir “ the man spoke and you noted he didn’t even glance in Arthur’s direction as he spoke, you were now looping the chain of his watch around your wrist. Just one small tug…

“ Mr Callahan “ Arthur murmured, handing you a glass and standing behind you with a hand to your shoulder

“ wonderful to meet you sir. Me and your wife were having a delightful conversation weren’t we dear? "The pressure of Arthur’s fingers increased as he spoke the sweet name, though you weren’t entirely sure it wasn’t because he’d noticed the man’s watch was now safely hidden in the fabric of your skirt. 

“ oh yes. Wonderful mister “ the watch discreetly made its way into your boot and you were ready to get away

“ where’d you find a beautiful thing like this sir? I may need to frequent the place myself “ he placed a hand onto your arm and finally looked up at Arthur rather than at you. He made your skin crawl. You didn’t hold a single ounce of remorse for the stolen watch 

“ oh no where you’d like “ his tone was a little snippy, the kind when someone was starting to piss him off but he was trying to keep his cool. And Arthur kicking off in the middle of the mayors party wasn’t exactly a part of Dutch’s plan. 

“ now I am so sorry but i believe my husband did promise me a dance “ you rose to your feet, sipping your champagne before placing the glass down and taking Arthur’s from his hands “ ain’t that right my love? “ 

“ yeah… need ya to come with me “ he said lowly, offering you his arm. His face had gone slightly dark, not entirely able to read him, you frowned slightly. But let him lead you away from the man, completely bypassing the area with couples twirling to the music. 

“ where we goin? “ you asked with a small laugh, latching onto his arm again and having to take quick steps to keep up with his purposeful strides “ Arthur?”

He didn’t answer immediately, simply led you away from the crowds and around the side of the mayor's house. 

“ You mad cause I took that watch? Look he deserved it- “

“ ain’t mad “ he mumbled, still leading you along. 

“ okay… so we stealin’ somethin’ else? “ you asked with excitement filtering into your words, already trying to figure out what it could be “ need me to act like a maid? I can do that real good y’know. Is it money? Papers? Oh, is it jewellery? Gold? “ Arthur chuckled at your excitement and shook his head, bringing you to a halt between some elaborately trimmed bushes and trees in planters. 

“ we ain’t stealin’ a thing “ you pouted with a mild disappointment and he chuckled again, advancing on you and backing you up against the wall behind you “ don’t gimme that look “ he tucked his fingers under your chin, nudging your face upwards to look at him. He was a god few inches taller than you, but he always made you feel ten times smaller when he looked down at you like that. 

“ what’s gotten into you? “ you asked with a giggle, hands slipping under his jacket to slide over his waist. 

“ just wanted some time alone with you is all “ 

“ behind some trees? You are a strange man sometimes Arthur Morgan y’know that? “ he gave a heavy sigh and brushed his thumb across your cheek softly, watching you intently. He always looked at you like you like you were the only woman on the planet “ you sure you ain’t mad about the watch? “ 

“ no. I ain’t mad. Feller flirtin’ with my woman and only loses his watch sounds like a good deal to me “ he grumbled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. 

And a light bulb suddenly pinged on in your head. 

“ are you jealous? “ you asked, unable to hide your complete utter joy and amusement as the realisation hit you. He grumbled some kind of an answer and tried to kiss you again but you turned your head to the side, so he settled for your neck instead “ why Arthur Morgan. You are jealous “ 

He didn’t answer you again, simply tilted your head so he could get at your neck more, his other hand splaying over your lower back to tug you close against him. A mischievous streak ran through you and you chewed on your lip for a moment deciding whether or not to push his buttons. 

“ he was kinda nice to me y’know. He seemed a nice feller “ Arthur’s teeth grazed your skin at your words and your smile grew bigger “ kept me from bein’ so lonely with you gone “ 

“ he wanted to do more than keep you company “ your fingers ran through the long strands of his hair, sighing softly as he continued to kiss your neck 

“ you think? You gonna keep me company now? “ 

“ oh I’ll keep you company “ you had said it only really to tease. Thinking that actually, a sordid little moment with your lover behind the bushes would be an incredible improvement on the evening. 

But it was hard to simply just kiss Arthur. He had wandering hands, had lips as addictive as whiskey. Even when you assumed he wasn’t particularly trying to work you up, he did. But the way he was tugging at your body to keep you pressed against him, the way his lips were burning a trail along your neck and across your jaw…

“ Arthur… y’know anyone could come round here “ 

“ stay quiet then and they ain’t gonna be none the wiser “ your skin prickled with heat at his words and your hips involuntarily rolled against him. Maybe it was the thrill. Maybe it was the fact that he was so… needy. Desperate to remind himself that you were his and not some stupid rich man in an equally as stupid hat.

He groaned against your hot skin as you pressed against him, the sound igniting something deep in your bones. Flaring up through your veins and cursing like lava through your veins. 

Your hands found themselves back under his jacket, fingers tugging at his shirt to free it from where it has been neatly tucked into his pants. You knew you couldn’t get it off of him but you still wanted to feel. 

You hummed softly when your fingertips met his skin, as hot as you knew yours must be. He loved to feel you touch him, loved when dragged your nails across his back, sunk your teeth into his shoulder to quiet your moans when you were dangerously close to other members of camp. 

You wished you could do it in that moment. Wished you were back in your room, truly the only good thing to come out of Shady Belle was the fact that you had a room. 

But Arthur didn’t seem keen on waiting. Seemingly having some point to prove to himself. And you were more than happy to let him. 

His hands drifted down to the floaty material of your skirt, reluctantly pulling himself away from your neck to frown at the material in front of him. 

“ why you gotta have so many damn skirts? “ he grumbled, fumbling with the layers of fabric hanging from your waist. 

“ you picked the dress “ you reminded him with a smile, chasing after his lips again. Desperate to kiss him properly now that he had stopped his assault on your neck. He kissed you with a energy that demanded your attention, that drew you in and locked you in place. Hot. Wet. Addictive “ least it ain’t as big as Mollys “ you said when you let yourself pull away. 

“ yeah well I weren’t plannin’ on keepin’ you in it when we- god damn there’s enough fabric here to dress the entire camp “ you couldn’t help the giggle that fell past your lips, watching him try to figure out how he was going to play out whatever sordid thoughts were running through his head. 

Your own mind had quite ungracefully fallen into the gutter itself, realising exactly what Arthur wanted. And your constant desperation for the man in front of you overruling all your concerns at the location. 

He seemed to be getting a little agitated with your dress and you held back the urge to giggle at him. Instead opting to try sooth the frown lines worrying at his forehead, reaching forward to palm at him through the material of his pants. In hopes it would be some kind of incentive for him to hurry up as well. 

As much as you needed him as badly as you needed air, you were also still aware of exactly where you were. And how long it would take until Dutch came looking. 

“ c’mon Arthur “ you whispered, desperation beginning to fill your words “ ‘fore they notice we’re gone “ it had been his idea to take you away, and yet you were seemingly the more desperate of the two of you now. But how could he or anyone else blame you? When he was all gussied up like he was. In truth you liked his normal attire a little more. Liked him a little more… rugged. But lord did he look handsome in his suit, his hair and beard all neat and tidy. 

Arthur’s breath audibly caught in his throat from your touch and it seemed to effectively spur him on. 

“ yes ma’am “ He spun you around with strong hands to your waist, your own hands bracing yourself against the wall. The next moments were a flurry of his hands hitching your skirts over your hips, grabbing at your undergarments before a strong arm looped around your waist to pull you back against him. 

His hand disappeared under your bunched up skirts making you gasp softly as his fingers dipped into the warmth between your thighs. 

“ this all for me darlin? “ you could hear the smirk in his words, feel it as he brushed his nose against your cheek. The short stands of his beard tickled at your skin, sending a shiver snaking along your spine. 

“ course it is “ the sound of a lady drunkenly laughing a little too close by made you freeze, hand reaching around to grab at Arthur’s arm. 

He didn’t seem discouraged by the idea of someone stumbling upon you both, simply moved his hand up to grasp gently at your jaw, turning your face towards his to kiss you. His other hand was still between your thighs, and you sighed softly against his lips as he drew a thick finger between the wetness of your folds “ oh Arthur…“ 

Your cunt clenched around nothing. As if silently begging for his fingers to just push inside of you, take you in a way you had always found so much more personal than just sitting on his cock. His fingers that held his guns, that he used to beat people to death more times than either of you could care to count. Those same fingers working you open, covered in the slick evidence of your desire for him instead of gun oil. Fingers that cause pain and damage, but also sent you spiralling into mind blowing pits of pleasure. 

And paired with the current location? It just felt… dirty. Erotic. You felt no better than a common whore loitering in a saloon for custom. You wanted him so desperately, needed him. 

“ Arthur “ you sighed, pushing your self against his hand as he toyed with your swollen clit. 

“ tell me what y’need pretty girl “ he said softly, tickling your skin with his beard and dragging his tongue across your neck before sinking his teeth into the flesh, making you whimper. 

“ you- Arthur. You. Please “ his hand continued its gentle movements as he worked at your neck. You pushed your hips back against him, grinding against the hardness still trapped by his pants in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. His breath shuddered against your skin as you did, holding you flush against him to let you wiggle your hips in a silent invitation to just take you already. 

A smashing glass drew your attention briefly away from him again. And as much as you could let him do that all evening, you were still hyper aware of your surroundings. 

You silently wished he’d just waited until you were back at camp, could take his time with you on that shitty little bed in the privacy of your room at Shady Belle. 

But there you were. And there were hundreds of others only a few feet away too. 

“ stop teasin we ain’t got the time “ at any other time he’d have worked you into a mess with his fingers, even dropped to his knees and disappeared under your skirts, have you coming on his tongue over and over again just because he wanted to. But he hadn’t planned the situation well at all, and you weren’t exactly in the best of locations. If anyone so much as peaked around the corner of the building a little too far you were certain you’d be spotted. 

And wouldn’t that be a tale. 

“ ain’t you bossy “ you opened your mouth to snip back at him, but your words evaporated into nothing but a soft whimper as Arthur followed your demands, pushing past his desires to take his time with you. Truly it was his own fault that he couldn’t though, as he withdrew his fingers and fumbled with the buttons on his pants. 

“ Arthur “ you whimpered softly, breath stuttering at the feel of his swollen tip brushing between the wet folds of your cunt. 

“ quiet now darlin’ “ He pushed in slowly, in the way he so often did. Making sure you felt every single devastating inch, your back arching against his chest as your body flushed with warmth. Even after so many times the stretch was still a lot, a deep burning ache that eventually melted away into a blinding hot pleasure that burnt its way through your veins. 

He pressed on until he was flush against you, the material of his opened pants scratching against your soft skin as he held you there a moment. He exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin. 

It was never fucking with Arthur. Not very often anyways. It was love making. Soft. And slow. And a brutal pace that made sure you remembered he’d been there the next morning, but oh so drawn out. He was gentle. Tender. It had always shocked you how violent he could be and yet become so careful and soft with you. And even there, concealed by a few perfectly trimmed bushes and planters, he was taking his time. Reminding you that you were his. And maybe reminding himself of the fact too. 

Reminding himself that maybe there were men only a few feet away that wanted you. That would pay for the pleasure of your company. But only Arthur could have it, that he was the only one you would ever offer it too. 

That this deep rooted instinct to protect what was his wasn’t entirely necessary but god was it wanted. That his desire made your blood boil with lust, skin burn under his touch. 

“ That’s my girl “ he whispered, tone low and steady as he set himself into a bruising pace, still tightly holding onto you as he did. His face had fallen to your neck again, lips latching onto every inch of exposed skin they could. 

You were certain you were going to walk back into the party looking like you’d taken a dip with some leeches. 

You tried your best to be quiet, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in some hopes that mixed with the sounds of the party happening only a few feet away you wouldn’t be heard. But it was so hard to be silent when he was fucking you like that. So determined, so strong, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in hard. 

Your hand was still gripping at his arm, blunt fingernails digging at his skin through his jacket. His pace increased a little, settling into a steady rhythm that carved a devastating stretch inside of you. 

“ y’know I think that feller- that feller back there. He wanted you like this “ you couldn’t help the smile that pulled its way onto your face, still flushing with joy at his jealousy. You knew Arthur desired you carnally. Always had done and always would. But a reminder like the present one was always nice. 

“ y’think so? “ 

“ I know “ he grumbled, his pace increasing a little more, clearly attempting to take out his frustrations with the handsy man. But also maybe simply trying to assure himself in the process too. 

Arthur didn’t like to admit it but he was a little self conscious. You’d heard him talk down to himself in the mirror countless times, had seen the way he spoke about himself when you peaked over his shoulder at his journal. Had an almost crippling fear of abandonment that sometimes he did need to be reminded that you wanted him. 

“ poor feller “ you said with a small sigh before pushing lightly at Arthur’s arm so he’d let you go. You winced slightly as he pulled out, immediately missing the heavy feel of him there, and spun around tugging him back towards you by the lapels of his jacket “ ain’t got nothin on you “ you hitched your skirts up in your arm and wrapped your spare hand around the now slick length of his cock making him stutter a breath. 

His face was flushed, bottom lip shiny from kissing you. You wanted to absolutely devour him, strip him of his fancy clothes and remind him just how much you wanted every part of him. 

The look in his eyes was almost primal. Desire and lust burning so brightly it made your chest ache, to feel so wanted. To feel so desired. 

To have a man so usually controlled and put together, be reduced to not being able to even wait until you got home. That he had to have you there. Right there in that moment. He couldn’t wait. 

You needed him to pull you apart. To worship every inch of you in the way he so often did. 

But the side of the mayor's house was truly not the place for such a thing. 

“ no one could make me feel the way you do “ you whispered, stroking him softly in your hand as you tried to stoke the fire under his ego. Make him realise he truly had no reason to be jealous “ and him back there? He thought he could huh? Poor feller “ 

“ poor feller “ he echoed, sliding a hand over your leg and hitching it over his hip, sliding back into you with a welcome ease that made your head fall back against the wall. 

“ Thinks he could fuck me better than this? Man must be damn crazy “ you said with a smile, breathless as he fucked into you. You were practically dripping around him, the lewd sounds between you enough to make your skin flush. 

“ you’re mine darlin “ you nodded immediately. Not a single doubt in your mind on the matter. You were his. And he yours. That was how it would always be “ all mine, you hear? “ 

“ all yours Arthur. Ain’t no man in this whole damn country could replace you” 

He moved with more determination, thrusting into you harder in a way you knew was going to bruise your back from rubbing against the wall. His all too familiar deep, hard pace. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, muffling your whimpers with his mouth cautious again that you were getting a little reckless. 

“ that good? Makin me feel so good darlin’ such a good girl “ the entire thing felt almost animalistic. Desires so strong they couldn’t be withheld. Dirty. Filthy. Perfect. 

“ God Arthur “ the look on his face alone made you clench around him, never wanting him to leave, needing to feel the heavy bruising sensation as he split you apart for the rest of your life. He hitched your leg higher, hitting some new devastating part inside of you that made you see stars. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and unable to contain the sounds escaping your throat any longer. 

“ There she is, jus’ like that darlin I got ya” his grip on your leg grew restless, fingers dancing over your skin and trying to pull you as close to him as he could get you. He always wanted you close. Always wanted to feel your skin against his own. A moment later his thrusts became sloppier and you knew he wasn’t far off. Though quite frankly neither were you “ so pretty for me like this ain’t ya? My girl “ his words only pulled you closer to the edge, knot twisting tighter. 

“ Arthur I- “

“ I know. I know darlin, can feel it “ he almost cooed, lifting a hand to cup your face gently “ that’s it look right at me. That’s a girl right at me “ with his gaze so intense you couldn’t hold it any longer, biting down on your lip as you attempted to conceal your sounds of ecstasy as you came over his cock. 

He was barely a second behind you, a stuttered groan of a sound leaving him as he dropped his forehead against yours, painting your slick walls with rope after rope of come as you clenched around him. Holding him in place so that not a single drop of him would go to waste. It was a risky business letting him finish inside of you, truly it was. But in your sex drunk haze you didn’t care, couldn’t give a damn because it simply felt too good to give up. 

He nudged his nose against yours, brushing his lips against your own and kissed you softly. So tender and gentle, his hand carefully lowering your leg back down, slipping his softening length out of you making you wince. He kissed the crinkles it caused to show at the corners of your eyes, whispering a gentle sorry. He soothed his hands over your waist with a care very few men had for women those days. 

“ my girl “ he murmured, littering kisses across your cheeks and nose. 

When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile. The dopey, soft kind. He was looking far less put together than he had done when you’d arrived, the pomade in his hair no longer serving its purpose after your fingers had gotten to it. He’d broken a sweat too, his forehead shiny. His skin flushed. 

The smugness was overwhelming though, could see it in his eyes. In the small smirk pulling at his lips. He seemed incredibly proud of himself. 

“ you are somethin’ else “ he mumbled as he finished readjusting his clothes, reaching forward to slip the ruffled strap of your dress back up your shoulder from where it had slipped. Pressing a kiss to the skin there for good measure. 

“ I ain’t the jealous one “ you teased as you combed your fingers through his hair in some attempt to tidy it. 

“ ain’t jealous. No idea what you talkin about girl “ he said with a small clear of his throat in some attempt to hide the obvious lie, you simply smiled again and pressed a kiss to his cheek 

“ mhm sure “ 

There was something about having to go back out into the party with the light ache between your legs, with the evidence of Arthur’s jealousy slowly dripping down your thighs. And Arthur seemed to think so too 

“ now. I believe you wanted to dance? “

[sharky-teeth]

top dean/bottom sam fics that perfectly exemplify why bottom sam is the best (the list got kind of super long because i'm just too passionate about this topic):

take the things you love by hathfrozen: i think everybody and their grandma knows this one but i had to include it, this is our gospel. literally changed my life.

mommy dearest by tradwifesam: if you don't like feminization, read this and see the vision.

Softly, as a morning sunrise by LaughableLament: one of my go-to authors for fun and short PWPs.

Noise Complaint by formalizing: a lesson on how to make a thousand words count!

Coast On Through by philalethia: this actually contains switching, but when i tell you it has some of the best samdean scenes ever...

Feel About the Same Most Every Day: pining that you can feel in your bones.

Like a Machine by ani_coolgirl: camboy!sam perfection.

Untouchable for Life by Sintari: another one for my camboy!sam enthusiasts.

Undertow by Molly: starts out angsty and ends with psychic sex vibes, what's not to love?

Birthday Boy by DickBaggins: sam's ass is dean's birthday present, need i say more?

Keeping it Clean by themegalosaurus: swesson filth <3

this thing, for which we break by orbiting_saturn: intense and intimate, as PWP as it comes.

Sweltering by WhoopsOK: brothers with benefits done right. slutty sam as a treat!

weecest:

With A Bit Of Spit And Luck by elsi: in my top 5 weecest of all time, which is saying something because the competition is crazy.

Bulletproof by road_rhythm: gunplay! incredible characterization, if you have a kink for guilty dean who's unable to stop himself, and pushy sammy, this is the one.

Heart of Worms by Ninni: very moody, and beautifully written.

Petulant by formalizing: another short read that hits all the right spots and leaves you wanting more.

and all is right in Dean's world by ladygizarme: loved dean's characterization here, he left me feeling unsettled.

for those like me who need some jokes with your p*rn:

The Koala Conundrum by De_Nugis: (mentions of switching) to this day, one of the most unique & refreshing stories i've read, an absolute masterpiece.

the one with aphrodisiac: this one managed to be hilarious and hot in equal measure, an amazing feat.

Incidentally, It Was Christmas by ani_coolgirl: one of my favorite fics of the year! ani's humor is impeccable! if you also believe in the sam-sexual dean truth, this is a must read.

Tongue-Tied by ADeedWithoutaName: cursed!dean unable to speak, and sam speaking for both of them, you know where this goes...

Dicks in a Box by fictionallemons: buried alive and how do sam and dean decide to spend their time? it ain't cuddling!

Versatile, Tender and Delicious by themegalosaurus: improper use of a zucchini. read and find out.

for my omega sam lovers:

Five Weeks & its sequel Three Weeks Too Late by rei_c: probably my favorite wincest a/b/o of all time! i could've read 100k of this universe, loved the details put into it.

A Blind Fool's Luck by hellhoundsprey: this is also a favorite! i remember the tension in this fic had me dizzy. this author has an incredible way with descriptions, vivid and unique writing style.

Phantom Pain by hellhoundsprey: weecest! love their dynamic here so much, great blending of a/b/o traits while keeping them in character.

Clover by hellhoundsprey: perfectly done late seasons getting together! with the right amount of schmoop. clearly this author is very dear to me lol

know the feeling by sammyatstanford: this is the longest work in this list, around 40k words, and so worth it! really enjoyed the worldbuilding.

now to my favorite flavor (bottom sam with a side of delicious angst):

Lesser Evils by Dyed_Red: [non-con] not for everyone, but definitely for me. if you love samdean at odds and suffering, this will push all the right buttons. life-changing fic.

Is It Tomorrow (Or Just the End of Time) by elsi: the angst here is so glorious. from beginning to end it's angst, angst, then more angst. there is no resolution to their issues, and i love that.

Collision Course by lovetincture: one of the most believable first time stories i've read, spot on characterization and raw descriptions. didn't shy away from the ugly side of incest.

You can run away with me any time you want by Trojie: sam leaving for stanford fic! oh this one hurts like a motherfucker. there's a line in here that's so beautiful, it lives in my brain.

his skin barely keeping him inside by hathfrozen: another banger by hathfrozen, i have a weak spot for first time in a long time stories.

No such thing as Forgiveness by hellhoundsprey: lawyer!sam getting his life sent off track when big brother comes back to the picture... the unhealthy dynamic here is to die for.

Blood sacrifice sex magic type of thing by Goshen: sam performing ritual sex to cure his demon brother... as he should.

Worship Not These False Idols by killabeez: ruby fucking sam while pretending to be dean. as amazing as it sounds.

Circles of Light by WhoopsOK: there is a "Magical Healing Ass" tag. enough said

end of list! i tried to only include works with less than 10k hits here, so someone might find something they haven't read before. i didn't include warnings, so definitely check out the tags first. all these fics are seriously amazing, i hope more people will read these gems <3

[sanguineterrain]

i'll put us back together at heart - s.h.

Summary: It's 1987. You haven't spoken to Steve Harrington in nearly five years. Then Dustin Henderson tells you about a sweet deal he has at Family Video, where he can rent any movie he wants.

Pairing: ex-best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 8.8k

Warnings/tags: friends to strangers to lovers. the reader is twenty in 1987 and i technically made steve twenty-one/about to turn twenty-one. s4 happened but eddie's alive and vecna's dead. no earthquakes or anything like that; reader has no idea about what really happened. lots of angst, mentions of billy hargrove (yuck) and steve's s1 asshole friends.

A/N: oh my lord. i don't know where this eighteen-wheeler of a fic came from but here it is. there is a happy ending, not to worry. i'd never do that to y'all &lt;3 feedback and reblogs are always always appreciated!

divider by firefly-graphics

August 1981

"I wish we could stay eighth graders forever."

You lift your head from your orange pool floaty. Steve drifts on the surface of the water. His hair is longer, way longer than you've seen it in the three years you've been friends. He says it's better for styling that way; he's even bought a gel and cream for his hair. You don't understand why he wants to change something that doesn't need changing. 

"Why?" you ask. "I thought you were excited for high school."

He hums. The sound echoes in his backyard. 

"It's bigger than middle school. More kids, more teachers, more work. I like eighth grade."

"I'll help you with your work," you say. 

Steve turns his head and smiles at you. Part of his face is in the water, the image distorted. 

"You'll do great," he replies. "You're so smart."

Steve doesn't say those things to get you to help him like other kids do. Steve means it. 

"You'll do great too," you say. "You're funny and nice and my best friend. People will like you."

"You think?" 

You nod. Steve turns his head and closes his eyes again. 

"We'll stay friends, right?" he asks. 

The floaty squeaks as you move to sit up. You paddle to Steve so you can look at his face. 

"Why wouldn't we?"

"I dunno." His eyes are still closed. "You might make super smart friends. And I'll just be a dumbass holding you back."

You shove Steve's shoulder lightly. 

"You are not dumb, Steve."

One muggy June night had had Steve admit he wasn't thirteen, like you and all the kids in your class, but fourteen. He had been held back in third grade after his parents moved from Illinois. It's why my brain's mush, he'd said. I was born dumb.

He had made you swear not to tell anyone. 

"You're not dumb," you say again. "Say it, Steve. Say you're not dumb."

His frown deepens, but he still won't look at you. 

"Tommy says I am."

"Tommy Hagan is a shithead," you shoot back with so much venom, Steve's eyes fly open. "It's not true, whatever he tells you."

You hate that they've been hanging out more this summer. You can't tell Steve that, because it's not like you own him. He can be friends with whoever he wants. But you can't help that your skin crawls when Tommy and his stupid girlfriend, Carol, drops by and pulls Steve away from you. 

“Promise?” he asks.

“Yes, Steve. I promise.”

“‘Kay.” Steve smiles a little. “Thanks.” 

You nod and lay back on the floaty. 

“Wanna get ice cream after this?” he asks. 

“Just us?” 

“Just us.”

Now. (January, 1987)

You slam the phone back onto the receiver. A girl playing Pac-Man carefully glances at you. 

Whoops. Right. You're still at work. 

You smile and give a thumbs-up. She turns around. You return to your wallowing. 

You’ve called three different video rentals. Jewel Films, which is about to go out of business; More Movies, whose attendant hung up on you before you could say Molly Ringwald; and finally, Blockbuster, which is thirty minutes outside of Hawkins. None of them have a copy of Pretty in Pink. 

And okay. You could just watch another movie. You don't need that specific one. But this year has been shit. You'd thought after starting college, you'd finally break out of the Hawkins forcefield that had limited your social life. You'd thought you'd make friends and not be so terribly lonely. Life is supposed to get better after high school, isn’t it? 

Obviously, whoever said that is a big, fat liar. 

“Dude!” you hear a familiar voice exclaim. “Stop hogging the game!”

Tawny curls peek from under a green and yellow hat. The hat hovers over an older boy who’s glued to the Tempest booth. You go to them. Dustin Henderson lights up when he sees you. You can read his hat now; it says Camp Know Where ‘85.

“Hey, Y/N!” he greets brightly. “This guy has been here for a half hour. I left to get nachos and when I came back, he was still here.”

“I’m this close to beating my score!” the kid insists.

“Come on, guy," you say, one arm on the machine. "You gotta give other people a turn."

The kid, evidently demon incarnate, sneers at you.

“Who’s gonna make me? You?” 

You lean against the side of the game, considering.

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” he says.

You snort. 

“Sixteen? And you’re still on Tempest?”

He glances at you. 

“So?”

“Everybody your age is playing Rampage, that’s all.” 

You wink at Dustin. He beams.

“And, uh, I saw a couple girls hanging around Rampage,” you add. 

The kid turns to you. You tilt your head innocently. 

“Seriously?” he asks.

“Seriously. People always flock to the new games.”

Which is true. The girls part is not, but he doesn’t need to know that. With that attitude, he won't be getting many phone numbers anyway. 

You drum your fingers on the game like you have all the time in the world. And sure enough, the kid takes his quarters and heads towards Rampage. Dustin jumps in delight. 

“You’re awesome, Y/N!" 

You grin. “I try. Where are the others?”

Dustin sours.

“They ditched me. To hang out with their girlfriends! Can you believe that shit?” 

“No way!"

He shakes his head.

“I know, right? My friend told me that that’s what happens in high school. People change, y’know? And he’d know, I guess. He’s old like you.”

You scoff. “You make me sound like some kind of ancient. I’m not that old, Henderson.”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He pats your arm. “In many cultures, the elderly are wise. Now in my experience, this hasn’t been the case. But I think you’re wise.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Dustin smiles like the little shit he is and puts his change in the slot. 

“Well, contrary to what this other friend says, I’m sure it’ll pass,” you say. “You guys will hang out again." 

You swallow your acidic truth. Dustin's a good kid, and so are his friends. You don't want him to turn cynical like you have. He's too young. 

Dustin shrugs, starting the game.

“I guess so. I got a copy of The Lost Boys for us to watch on Friday. They said they’ll be there.”

“Whoa, seriously? That one just came out, how’d you get a copy?”

“My friend,” he says. “The one I mentioned. He works at Family Video and reserves stuff for me.”

“Huh. I thought Family Video was closed."

You'd applied to work there last year and never got a call back. You'd gone by once and it had looked abandoned. Hence why you now work at the arcade across town. 

"It almost did, but Keith took over so now it's barely scraping by."

"Ah. Sweet deal on the movies."

“Yeah,” Dustin agrees, eyes crinkling. “My friend's pretty cool. You'd like him."

"Would I now?"

"Absolutely," he gushes. "He's a total badass too. He won his first fight last year. He used to be a jock but he's recovered." 

"Wow. Impressive."

"Mmhm. I could ask him to hold stuff for you too, if you wanted.”

“You would?”

The game makes a sad game over noise. Dustin sighs and takes a gulp of his slushie.

“Yeah, totally,” he says through a mouthful of blue raspberry ice. “Which one do you want?”

“Pretty in Pink? I missed it in theaters."

“Sure. I’ll tell him to hold it tonight and tomorrow you can pick it up.”

“Cool. Thanks, Dustin.”

Dustin gives you an apple-cheeked grin.

“Gotta stay in good graces with the arcade attendant who lets me play Tempest as long as I want.”

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say, walking away. "Don't get slushie on the game."

"'Kay!"

Dustin only gets a little bit of slushie on the game, but he cleans it up with about a million of the cheap snack bar napkins. When he leaves, he tells you to mention his name at Family. 

"Who do I ask for?" 

"You can talk to either of them," Dustin says. "Doesn't matter. Except Keith. You know Keith, right?"

"Unfortunately.” Keith used to terrorize the arcade before he blessedly moved on. “He works there?"

"Barely." Dustin scoffs. "He's almost never there, so don't worry. And feel free to ask for more movies. They owe me one."

Your sole interactions are with professors and a gaggle of high school freshmen. But now you get to watch any movie you want. Maybe this year won't totally suck. 

The bell rings pleasantly as you step inside. There's a few people on line, so you take your time walking in. There's a movie display with about thirty copies of RoboCop. A cardboard cutout of RoboCop stares back behind his red helmet.

"Can I help who's next?"

You go to the counter. A girl about your age with a choppy haircut smiles at you but it's sort of strained. She has a pin on her green work vest that says Ask me!

"Please don't ask for Adventures in Babysitting," she says. 

"Oh. No, I'm, uh, Dustin's friend?" 

You can't believe you're name-dropping a high schooler. 

She nods in realization. 

"Oh, yeah. God, I keep telling that dweeb not to promise holds."

You wince. 

"Sorry. If it's going to get you in trouble…"

Her brows raise. She smiles a bit. 

"No, it's okay. Usually my coworker deals with it but, well. He's taking an extra long break today. So, what movie was it?"

"Pretty in Pink," you say. 

"Classic," she replies. "John Hughes fan?"

"Somewhat. I didn't get to see it in theaters. I like Molly Ringwald."

She grins.

"Me too. She's pretty."

"Super pretty," you agree. 

The girl considers you, then sticks out her hand. 

"I'm Robin," she says. "Nice to meet you."

You take her hand. "Y/N.”

"Did you go to Hawkins High?"

"I did. Graduated last year."

"Oh, cool. Are you in college?"

You nod. 

"Hawkins State. Twenty minutes from here."

"Sweet! I'm taking a gap year, but afterwards, I’m gonna apply there. It's cheap. College is college, right?"

"College is college," you agree. "But I wish I'd gone away for school."

You don't know why you're telling her this. You've known Robin for all of two minutes. But she seems friendly. And her sense of style is cool. She wears a blue blazer and tie underneath her vest. 

"How come?" she asks. 

"Everybody from Hawkins is there," you say. "And I… I just want a new start."

Robin smiles sympathetically. 

"They're jerks," she says. 

You huff. "Yeah."

You'd turned yourself into a social recluse a million years ago. It's your own damn fault you can't befriend anybody in this town. At least, not anymore. 

Robin types into the computer, then smacks the monitor. She groans. 

"Ugh. Gimme a second," she says. "Stupid technology."

"No problem," you say, smiling. You like her. Maybe you can integrate Family Video into your regular routine, become friends. You can see Robin becoming a good friend. One you wouldn't grow apart from. 

She disappears into the back room. You browse the old releases and stop at Die Hard. This one you saw in theaters. John McClane is a badass. 

You think of Dustin, and his supposedly badass new friend. It's too bad you didn't meet today. Dustin has a good sense about people. If he says so, it's possible you and this friend really would get on. 

The bell rings again. You're slow to look up. The entrance is empty when you do. You keep reading about John McClane's adventures. 

"Have you been waiting long?"

You turn at the new voice. The video slips out of your hand and clatters onto the counter. 

Steve’s hair has grown since you last saw it. He looks different too, though he has yet to break out of his signature church boy polos. There's a smattering of stubble on his jaw. His arms are lean with muscle. He wears a matching work vest like Robin's, name tag printed Steve in blocky font. 

He looks at where you've dropped Die Hard and smiles. 

"This is a good one," he says. "John McClane is a total badass."

You blink.

"Did you want to rent that one?" he continues, meeting your eye. 

"No," you manage. 

"Okay, no problem. Just browsing?" 

He doesn't remember you. 

You stare and stare. Steve leans in, concerned. He's changed, but he hasn't. He's still handsome with his swoopy hair and big, dark eyes, but the Steve you knew wouldn't have been caught dead working at a video store.

And he doesn't remember you. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, sounding genuine.

You take a step back from the counter. The blood roars in your ears. Robin comes back in, Pretty in Pink in hand. She looks at you, then at Steve. 

"Got it!" she tells you. "Computer should work now."

"I have to go," you say. 

You don't look at Steve again, instead focusing on Robin. 

Her brows rise. 

"Oh. Is everything—"

"I forgot my wallet," you blurt. "I can't pay for the movie. Sorry."

"That's okay, we can just—"

You run. The bell chimes over her words. You keep running until you get to the bus stop, three blocks away. 

Only there do you stop to catch your breath. 

And then you cry. 

February 1982

"What do you think about Marie?" 

You look up from your textbook. Steve is doodling in the margins of his notes. You gently prod his arm. He returns to reading but his leg starts to bounce under the table. 

"Marie Iverson?" you ask.

"Yeah." 

Steve glances at you. He pushes his hair back. It had taken him freshman year to get his bearings with all the gels and creams, but now, his hair is a point of pride, always perfectly coiffed. Seniors call him "The Hair" and high-five him in the hallway. You hate it. 

"I don't know. I don't know her that well."

"She's cute." 

"I guess so," you say. 

It's harder to get Steve to focus on homework these days. Last year, he happily made flashcards with you and even bought fancy gel pens to share for your notes. Now, he prefers to talk about girls or—

"I was thinking of asking her out."

The tip of your pencil breaks. You really ought to start using pens, but you don't like being unable to erase. 

"Shit, here. Take mine." 

Steve offers his still perfectly sharpened pencil. You stare at it. 

"Y/N?" 

"Yeah." You take the pencil. "Thanks."

"Sure. So what do you think?" 

"I don't know, Steve. I thought you talked about this stuff with Tommy."

"I would, it's just…" Steve shifts uncomfortably. "He can be rude about it sometimes. He doesn't even get why we're friends, y'know? Doesn't understand why I don't just date you."

Tommy is a moron, but you've said that since last year, and Steve's never listened before. 

"Some people don't get it," you say mildly, because you have an upcoming French test and there's no use in getting upset over Tommy Hagan right now. 

"But you do. And you know about this stuff better than me. Girls and all."

"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I know what girls are best for you to date, Steve. It's weird to talk about."

Steve deflates. 

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Sorry."

You sigh and rub your temple. 

"I thought you knew all about that," you say, extending an olive branch. "Asking girls out and stuff."

"Well, I mean, I've kissed girls but I've never… you're, like, the only girl I really know."

Something like pride swells in your chest. Selfishly, you want to keep Steve. You don't want to help him if it means losing him. Oh, you're so greedy, aren't you? You watch Steve run off with Tommy and Carol and nameless seniors and seethe, because Steve was yours first. Steve is yours.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah." You give him back his pencil and fish for another one in your bag. "Did you ever think about writing how you feel?" 

"Writing?"

"Yeah, like a poem or a letter."

"I'm terrible at writing," Steve laments. "The letters get all jumbled and I never spell a damn thing right."

He'd told his mom once how letters melt into each other, how b's become d's. She'd taken him to get his eyes checked, and when the doctor said Steve was fine, Deborah Harrington had told her son to stop begging for attention. 

"Someone who really likes you won't care about spelling mistakes, Steve," you tell him. "As long as you write from the heart. Don't do that cheesy shit and quote Romeo and Juliet. They're young, impulsive, and they die at the end, and that's not romantic."

Steve laughs, nose scrunched. 

"What!" you demand. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, 's just—of course you'd have something to say about quoting Shakespeare."

"It's overdone," you say, crinkling your nose. "And girls would much rather read your own words." 

"So you think I should write Marie a letter?"

"If you really like her," you say. "Only write letters for girls you really like. Otherwise they lose their meaning."

Steve frowns. "I don't know if I should write her a letter, then."

Don't, you want to say. Don't write any of them letters.

You shuffle your papers into a stack. 

"Can we study now?" you ask.

"Oh, sure, yes. Sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologizing, Steve."

He shifts closer to you. His leg has stopped bouncing.

"Lemme take you out," he says. 

You nearly swallow your tongue. 

"Wh–what?"

"For ice cream," Steve clarifies. "Like we used to. Dairy Queen."

"Oh. Okay, sure. But after we study."

Steve beams. "I'll drive you."

Steve's dad had bought him the BMW as a birthday present this year—not that Richard Harrington actually knows when his own son's birthday is, considering the gift was three months early. Still, it's another point of pride for Steve and about all anybody talks about whenever his name comes up. Steve is the only person in your grade with a car. Junior girls hit him up for rides. You make yourself scarce when they do. 

You don't care. You liked Steve before the car. And the clothes. And the hair. 

Your throat feels tight. You want your best friend back. 

"Just us?" you check. 

You can't tell these days. Steve seems to hang out with everybody but you. You're shocked he'd even asked to study together. 

"Oh, sure," Steve says. "I just have to drop off Tommy and Carol first, okay?" 

You check your watch and close your book. 

"I have class," you lie. "I'll see you later." 

Steve catches your wrist. He looks at you and you're struck by how sweet his face is. It's not like you didn't understand why girls want him but it's Steve. Your Steve, who still sleeps with a nightlight and who framed a picture of a sports car he cut out from a magazine because he'd thought it would make him cooler (it didn't. You still tease him about it.) 

"Please," he says. "For helping me."

Your eyes slit. "I didn't help you to get stuff, Steve. I helped you because you're my friend."

Steve blinks like he's forgotten what it's like to be friends with someone just for the sake of being friends. 

"You're right," he agrees. "You're not like that. I'll tell Tommy and Carol to find another ride. It'll be just us. I promise."

You perk up at that. "Really?"

"Really. You can sit in the front with me and we'll play Bruce Springsteen, like we used to. Please?" 

"Okay, Steve." You ache. You’ve never been very good at telling him no. "I'll meet you in the parking lot."

And maybe… maybe your best friend is still in there after all.

Now

You ask your shift manager if you can work at the snack bar today. It's in the back and you won't have to deal with any game hogs. 

"You didn't put enough syrup in my slushie."

You might have overshot the perks, though. 

Slushie Girl's hair is bleach blonde and hairsprayed to God. You want to tell her that all that hairspray doesn't keep friends. Or brain synapses. 

"I don't make the slushie," you say for the third time. "That's how it comes out of the machine."

She shoots you a mean look. 

"I'm complaining to the manager."

You paste on a smile. 

"You do that. Have a nice day."

She finally walks away, probably on the hunt for your manager, who's definitely smoking a joint outside to avoid this exact situation. 

Dustin comes around the corner and this time, he's with the rest of his party. You smile. 

"Hey, Y/N!" Dustin greets.

Lucas waves at you. Max and Mike are arguing and therefore are in their own world. And there's their newest addition, El, whose story you're still not clear on, as well as Will, quiet as always. 

You lean your elbows on the countertop. 

"What'll it be, gang?"

"Six nachos and six slushies, please. One blue raspberry, three cherry, and two Coke."

You fill up the slushies first. Dustin dances on his toes. 

"So did you pick up the movie?" he asks.

"Oh." You try to smile. "I went there but I couldn't. I forgot my money. Pretty dumb of me."

Dustin accepts this with no argument. 

"Well, you can go back. They'll hold it for a few days."

You're never setting foot in there again, but you don't tell Dustin that. 

He takes his slushie and immediately starts drinking. 

"Slow down, dude. You'll get a brain freeze," you say. 

"You sound like Steve," Dustin informs you. "Doesn't Y/N sound like Steve?" 

Lucas nods. 

"Yup. They're both parents."

You feel queasy. You focus on making the nachos, the cheese pouring out thick and gooey. 

"Did you meet Steve?" Dustin asks. "You probably know him from high school, but he's different now."

"Yes," you say quietly. "I knew him."

"I promise he's different. Even Mike likes him, and Mike hated his guts. Right, Mike?"

Mike pauses in his animated discussion with Max and looks at you. 

"What?"

"I'm telling Y/N about how Steve is cool now," Dustin explains. 

"Oh." Mike shrugs. "He's fine. Much better now that he's not dating my sister."

"He's not?" you ask. "But they were in love. I–I mean, that's what I heard, at least."

"She dumped his ass," El says, and it sounds a little ridiculous in her soft monotone. 

Max scoffs, taking her Coke slushie. 

"Did you live under a rock? It was a huge thing."

"Now Steve is lame," Mike says with a snort. 

"Getting dumped doesn't make somebody lame," you say with an old ferocity you'd thought had disappeared. 

"Okay, jeez." Mike holds up his hands. "Steve's alright. He's different, that's for sure."

"He's our paladin," Lucas says. "A protector." 

Dustin nods eagerly.

You blink. "He protects you guys?"

Max elbows Lucas. You have no idea what that's about. El steps forward and smiles softly. 

"Yes," she says. "He's our babysitter."

"Aren't you guys freshmen? I thought you were too old for babysitters."

"Oh no, Steve doesn't get paid for it or anything," says Mike. "He just does it 'cause he has nothing else to do."

"That's not true!" Dustin argues. Then he shrugs. "Well, it's a little true. But he does like us. He's a good guy. He cares about his friends."

You bite your tongue, not wanting to reply to that. 

"That's great, guys. The girl, Robin? She seems pretty cool too."

"That's Steve's best friend," says Dustin. "She's great."

"Oh." You wince. "Best friend?" 

Dustin huffs. “Yeah. They don’t date. He won’t say why."

"Platonic with a capital P," Max confirms. “It’s obviously because he’s in love with somebody else.”

“Not Nancy!” Lucas protests.

“There are other girls besides Nancy, Sinclair.”

You busy yourself with serving the last set of nachos. The kids pull out crumpled bills and coins in return. You count the money and stack it directly into the register; you know there won't be any change. 

When you turn, they're still there. Dustin has his signature grin on, eyes squinty. 

"Yeees," you drag out. "Can I help you?"

"We need a favor," Lucas says. "Please."

"Hmm." You lean over the counter. "What's up?"

"They're showing Prince of Darkness on Friday," Dustin explains. "But it's rated R."

"So just sneak in. Isn't that what you guys did at Starcourt?" you ask.

"We had an inside man then. They're a lot stricter at the new one," Lucas frowns. "They ask for IDs 'cause some mom complained after her kid snuck in to watch Risky Business." 

"And why can't your babysitter take you?"

You sneer at the thought. Steve spending his Friday nights herding a bunch of adolescent teens into a movie theater. There's a reason you consider Dustin affectionately delusional. 

"He has a stupid date," Dustin groans. "He's a serial dater, Y/N. It's terrible. He gets lucky once and totally ditches us."

Now that sounds like the Steve you knew. 

"I see. I don't really like horror stuff."

"You don't have to stay!" Dustin insists. "You can watch whatever you want after we’re in. I'll pay you back for the ticket."

“This would be so much easier if Steve still worked at Scoops,” Mike grumbles.

You blank for a moment, the image of Steve in a sailor’s hat and those ridiculous shorts whiting your brain.

“Um,” you begin. “You know I don’t have a fancy BMW to cart you guys around in, right?”

“It’s cool. We’ll get there,” Max says.

“So?” Dustin bounces on his toes. “Sooo?”

You sigh. It’d been nice of Dustin to get you the movie, even though you’d chickened out and ran. And it’s not like you have anything better to do.

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll get you guys in.”

Dustin pumps his fist. “Thanks, Y/N! You’re my favorite old person.”

You roll your eyes. “Funny. Any funnier, and I might rescind my help, Henderson.”

“Byeeee!”

They all disperse to the arcade. You wonder how on earth Steve got involved with them.

March 1983

“Okay, but if you had to choose.”

“Pass. I would literally rather swallow pennies than kiss Principal Coleman’s bald-ass head, Steve.”

Steve takes a triumphant swig of beer. “So you’re saying you’ve got the hots for Benny the janitor.”

“No!” you insist through giggles. “I don’t. God, you’re gross. Can’t believe I’m being treated like this on your birthday.”

“Exactly! My birthday.”

He rolls onto his side in his deck chair and nearly faceplants on the cement. You reach out, reaction time delayed.

“Steve!” you yell. “Careful.”

“I am, I am,” he mumbles, and rights himself on the chair. “Jus’ wanna see you better.”

“I keep telling you you need glasses.”

“I do not,” he whines. “My vision’s ten outta ten. Could a guy who needs glasses do this?”

He crumples up a Twinkies wrapper and throws it towards the garbage. The wind picks up and sends the wrapped into the pool. 

“Shit,” he says.

You belly laugh in delight.

“Wait, wait, redo. Go fish it outta there.”

“Oh, as if. I’m not going in there. I told you you need glasses. Even Mother Nature agrees.”

"She does not. Mother Nature thinks I'm a doll."

You hum and close your eyes. Alcohol always makes you sleepy. 

The chair scrapes against the concrete. You hear a crinkle of a chip bag. Those are your only warning before you’re crushed by two hundred pounds of drunk boy. 

“Steve!” You wheeze, squirming as his hair tickles your face. “Get off!”

"’M sleepy,” he mumbles.

“Well, don't sleep on me, weirdo.”

“‘S cold.”

“You run, like, a hundred degrees, don’t lie.”

He lifts his head. “So you’re saying I’m hot?”

“I’m saying all that booze cooked your brain,” you reply sweetly.

“I’ve been wounded,” he moans and plops onto your shoulder.

“Ugh.” You resign to your fate and lean back. Steve’s not actually that heavy; even drunk, he has a lot of control over his weight and he’s situated himself so he isn’t crushing anything important. No, you squirm underneath him for a very different reason. 

“Steeeeve,” you whine. “You’re gonna squish me into a pancake.”

“Can’t believe no one else came.”

You still. Steve’s face remains buried in your shoulder. His body is beside yours, and he has an arm slung over your belly.

“I didn’t—didn’t want a party,” he continues. “I always throw parties. I thought I’d do somethin’ different. An’ none of them even wished me a happy birthday. ‘Cept you.”

You rest your hand on the back of his hair. It’s wind-blown and messy from the drinks, free of his heady hair gel. You’ve never loved it more.

“Did you tell them your birthday is today?” you ask gently, even though you know he did.

“Yeah,” he says. “Told all of ‘em. Guess they weren’t listening.”

“I listen.”

Steve looks up at you. His eyes are glassy.

“God, I miss you,” he says.

You feel the wall you’ve built this year crumble, just a little. 

“I’m right here, Steve.”

“I know but—been a jerk lately. I know I have. You’re my best friend, okay? Nothing’ll change that. I–I love you so much.”

Your breath hitches. Steve barrels on, not noticing.

“And I’ll be better. We’ll hang out more. Not–not here, drunk. But for real. We’ll go to the movies. Y’wanna see a movie?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I wanna see a movie.”

“‘Kay, what movie? Anything you want. We’ll get popcorn and Raisinets.”

“You hate Raisinets,” you choke through a watery laugh.

“I’d eat Raisinets anytime with you.”

You lay there, in the dark, the only sound being the pool filter.

“Let’s watch the new James Bond.”

“Hmm, okay. But you’ll have to say the name eventually.”

Your nose crinkles. “I am not calling it by its name.”

His laugh is warm in your neck. 

You don’t tell Steve to get up again. He snuggles into you, leg over yours. You fall asleep like that, curled underneath him.

Now

“Wait.” Max stops. “Shouldn’t we have, like, a game plan?”

“Game plan?” El asks quietly.

“Yeah. Some of us aren’t so great at playing it cool.”

She stares at Lucas.

“I play it cool!” he squawks. “I am so cool!”

“Right.”

“Just let Y/N do the talking,” Will says. “She’s technically the adult so she should act like this is a conscious choice.”

You shrug. “Makes sense to me.”

Dustin beams. “This is gonna be great!”

“Or a total disaster,” Max says.

You go to the counter, the kids trailing behind like ducklings.

“Six tickets for Prince of Darkness, please,” you say. “And uh, one for Dirty Dancing.”

The attendant looks at you, then at the kids.

“Don’t you mean seven tickets for Prince of Darkness?” she asks. “It’s rated R.”

Shit. “Right, yes. Sorry. Seven tickets. And one for Dirty Dancing. We have another friend who’s late.”

“Uh-huh.” 

The attendant, whose bored expression you’ve recognized on your own face after long days in the arcade, hands you your tickets without any questioning. 

“I think we’re in the clear,” Lucas whispers when you enter the concession area. 

You wait for them to buy their snacks. Max persuades Lucas to let her mix M&Ms into their bucket of popcorn. He agrees and shuffles closer so they’re pressed shoulder to shoulder while they share. 

“Okay, last stretch,” Mike says, shoveling a frighteningly large handful of sour worms into his mouth. “We just have to get past the ticket guy.”

Said ticket guy is a kid who can’t be much older than you. You think you might’ve gone to school together, but you’ve made it a point to eviscerate everything about high school from your mind.

“Hey,” you say, trying to act cool. Maybe you’re the one Max should’ve been worried about, instead of Lucas. “Uh, here are our tickets.”

He takes the tickets, then looks behind you.

“Prince of Darkness is only for people seventeen and older,” he says.

“I’m an adult, so I’m with them,” you explain. “I’m, like, their guardian?”

“Yeah, uh—” He hands you your tickets. “No can do. There needs to be an adult for each person under seventeen.”

“Come on,” you cajole. “They’re high schoolers. It’s not like they’re gonna be scarred for life watching some zombies, or whatever.”

He shrugs. “Rules are rules.”

“She’s an adult!” Dustin argues.

“Look, if you’re gonna hold up the line, I’m gonna have to—”

“Yo, Gillespie! That you?”

Dustin turns and lights up. The seven of you part for Steve Harrington and his date, a pretty strawberry blonde you think you had biology with.

“Harrington, man, what’s up!” 

Ticket Prick gets up to slam Steve into a bear hug. You barely resist an eye roll.

“Shit, I haven’t seen you in a year! Where’ve you been all this time? Hey, did you hear about that shit with Munson?”

Steve flinches. It’s a tiny movement, indiscernible to the trained eye. But it’s there all the same.

“Gillespie, c’mon. Don’t bring the party down with that,” Steve says, all sweet charm. 

“Sorry, sorry. Daisy,” he greets the girl attached to Steve’s arm.

“Gil,” she replies with a giggle. “You smell like popcorn butter.”

America’s future taxpayers. Terrifying. 

“Are you gonna let us in or not?” Max interrupts, arms folded. 

You feel a burst of pride.

Gil shoots her a dirty glare and puffs up, ready to fight a fourteen year old. Steve cuts in smoothly.

“Gillespie, listen. I know her.” He points to you. You bristle. “I can personally vouch that she’s just trying to do right by these kids. They wanted to see Prince of Darkness, y’know? Get away from the parents.”

“It’s a sick film,” Gil agrees. “You seen it?”

No, of course Steve hadn’t seen it. He hates horror. 

“Planning on it,” Steve says, the ultimate image of playing it cool. “Look, you remember sneaking into the movies. Fast Times? Ring any bells?”

Max rolls her eyes. You’re inclined to do the same.

Gil laughs dopily, and nudges Steve. “Hell yeah, I do. That was a crazy night, Harrington.”

Steve smiles thinly. “Sure was. So whaddya say? For old times’ sake?”

Gil considers your little troupe. Then he shrugs.

“Why not. Manager’s not here anyway.”

He takes the tickets and tears them to stubs, then gives them back.

“Theater six. On your left. Enjoy.”

The kids stampede into the left theater wing. You hang back with your own ticket. 

“Appreciate it, man,” Steve says, all smiles. “Take care, alright?”

“Hey, you too, Harrington! We gotta catch up!”

Steve and Daisy go in. You expect them to walk right past you, and Daisy does, predictably. But Steve stops.

“I’ll catch up, okay?” he tells her. “Find us some good seats?”

She paws at him a little, then goes, sodas in hand. You stiffen as Steve walks and stops three feet away from you. 

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry about that. Gil’s an asshole.”

“I know. He yawned during my poetry reading sophomore year. And then you guys went to the movies together.”

Steve shrinks. “Your poems were great.”

You’re suddenly exhausted.

“What do you want, Steve?”

“I just… I wanted to see you. Say hi.”

“Okay.” You cross your arms. “Hi.”

“You forgot your movie,” he says. “The other day.”

“I didn’t want it that much.”

“Dustin said you looked everywhere for it.”

“Well, in the end, it didn’t really matter,” you say. “Not enough to stay.”

“Y/N—”

“I think your date’s waiting for you,” you interrupt. “Better get back to her. Wouldn’t want to taint your reputation.”

Steve makes a noise like he’s been wounded. You turn on your heel before you can think better of it. 

“Wait.” He catches your wrist. Steve’s grip is light, like you’re something precious to hold. You wrench your arm away. “Y/N, I want to apologize. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you ask. “For forgetting me? I didn’t expect you to remember, Steve.”

“I didn’t forget you,” he insists. “I could never forget you. I wasn’t—please, can I just explain?”

“I don’t need your explanations,” you snap. The hurt corrodes your tongue like acid. “I know what happened. We were both there. You left.”

Steve’s eyes are huge and dark. He looks like you just stabbed him in the heart, and that makes you feel worse. You’d thought telling him how much it hurts would put you back together, but all it did was break you more.

So you run. Again. 

You slam through a back exit and rip your ticket into a million pieces. The wind is cold and unforgiving. Your eyes sting. 

You call out sick for two days in a row. You kind of expect to get fired, but then again, people have been leaving Hawkins and if you’re not here to serve the masses their slushies, who will be?

So, after lying in bed not thinking about movies and strawberry blonde girls and how sick you are of this town, you get up and put on your arcade vest.

Now it is two in the afternoon. You’d heard it was supposed to snow today.

Robin eyes the snack counter like it holds the next plague outbreak. You don't blame her; you make it a point to wash up to your elbows after work.

"Slushie?"

She looks at you like she’d forgotten you were there. "What?"

You point a thumb at the machine. "Are you here for a slushie?"

"Oh. No, sorry. Red dye makes me insane in the brain. Steve actually—"

Robin stops, grimaces. So he's told her. Probably everything, if the kids had been telling the truth. 

You're honestly surprised she's here. Unless it’s to, like, swirlie you in the vat of artificial cheese. 

"Are you here to drown me in nacho cheese?" you ask.

Robin's eyes go wide as dinner plates. "What? No!"

"Just checking." You lean against the counter. "What can I do for you, Robin?" 

Robin suddenly looks like she's never interacted with a human being before. You like her a lot. Steve probably does too. 

"I came to drop off your movie." She holds the tape over the counter like it's a pool of lava. 

"But I didn't pay for it." You shove your hand in your jean pocket; you only have a couple dollars on you. "I guess I can get you the money tom—"

"It's on the house. For a fellow Molly fan."

Robin wiggles the tape with two fingers. You take it and wait for a catch. There is none. 

"Thank you," you say. "You didn't have to do that."

"Actually, it wasn't me," she confesses. "I'm just the mailman."

You prepare to hand it back but Robin shakes her head. 

"He's not going to pop out of the slushie machine, okay? He's just trying to make it up to you."

"He doesn't need to make it up to me," you bite, except those aren’t the words you mean. "Why does he even care? We're not in high school anymore."

Robin smiles a sad smile. 

"I know," she says. "We’re not. I know he should've known to fix things earlier. He's received a lot of blows to the head, though, so he's still catching up."

The thought turns your stomach. More? More you weren’t there to protect him from?

"He doesn't owe me anything," you say and wave the tape again. "You can take it back and leave it for somebody else."

"Y/N, I know we don't know each other, like, at all. But it's important to me you know that Steve cares about you, because you’re important to him. And you knew him way before I did, and you probably know a lot of stuff I don't, and that's good because he has a friend like me, but he should also have a friend like you too, Y/N."

"I don't want to be his friend," you mumble. 

"Yeah," Robin says. "I figured. But I don't think that's a confession he should hear secondhand."

You look at her, stunned. She's such a clever girl. You hope she treats Steve well.

"If you two are—"

"We're not," she says, like this is a regular explanation she goes through. "Steve and I are friends. Steve has crashed and burned with every single date since his fall from regency. Steve is the best person I've ever met." 

"Yeah, I’ve heard. You and Dustin are his biggest fans."

Robin snorts. "Trust me, I'm not proud of it."

You shake your head. Your eyes feel hot. 

"This town is so shit," you say. 

"Yeah," Robin agrees. "It really fucking is. But I'm not asking you to give this town a second chance. Just him."

"Why are you trying so much?" you ask. "You don't even know me."

Robin shrugs. "No, but you're the one person Steve used to be friends with who's not an asshole, and I think us non-assholes need to band together."

"I can sometimes be an asshole."

"Me too. So are those little dweebs. How about calling ourselves the Semi-Assholes Club?" 

You laugh. "We'll get jackets."

"With partially drawn butts on the backs," Robin says with a giggle. 

You look at the tape in your hand. 

"Does Steve like John Hughes?" 

"He does. He's a total sap for those. He thinks he's in his own coming-of-age movie because he's delusional."

He sounds perfect. He sounds like the friend you loved. 

"I did want to watch this one," you say. 

"It won't hurt you to," Robin promises. 

You suppose not.

December 1984

You don't believe the whispers. All week, the rumor mill spins tales of Billy Hargrove finally pushing the King off his throne. There's no way he'll show his face, a girl at the adjacent lunch table astutes. I sure as fuck wouldn't.

Steve Harrington is a loser. Steve Harrington got dumped for Jonathan Byers. Steve Harrington may as well be dead, and on and on. 

Every line gets you angrier. A boy who sits behind you in chemistry taps his pencil like he always does. Tap, tap, tap. 

Halfway through class, you snap at him to quit it. He does, but not without a tinge of embarrassment. You’re so angry this year. Angry at your loneliness, angry at the unfairness of said loneliness. You might’ve done this to yourself, and that fact only gets you angrier.

You see Nancy Wheeler in the hallways with Jonathan Byers, and the confirmation of that rumor should make you happy. It doesn't. 

A week later, most of the excitement has died down. Everybody’s moved onto the next big thing, which is to deduce who fucked in Vice Principal White's office. One look at V.P. White, and it had been decided that it can't have been White himself. 

You can't care less. Once upon a time you might’ve laughed about it with a friend, but you don't have any more of those, and high school is bullshit with or without them. So.

Steve walks in twenty five minutes into the period. Mrs. Kaplan gives him a downright beastly glare and demands to know where he had been. 

"I'm sorry," is all he says. "If you give me detention, I understand."

There are a few snickers that rub at an old hurt, one that had flared up whenever somebody dared to make fun of your best friend. It doesn't bother me, he'd said, and you'd known it was a lie. 

It bothers me, you’d replied, and Steve had hugged you tight.

Mrs. Kaplan seems more stunned Steve hadn't swaggered past her like a peacock escaped from the zoo and lets him go sit down without a fight. He takes the only empty desk, two rows across from you. You stare. You can't not. 

Half of his face looks like it was mashed in a garbage disposal. It's purple and a sickly yellow. His eye and lip are still swollen. You stare and stare. You feel queasy. 

Billy had done that. You're so angry. You think you might never get past this grief, this loss of a once permanent fixture in your life. 

No one wished Steve a happy birthday this year, you realize out of nowhere.

You stare and stare and stare until Steve looks right back. You're blindsided by thick guilt, like blinking through a milkshake. And then the familiar curl of anger returns because why the fuck should you feel guilty? You aren't the one who fucked everything up, who mascerated this good thing. Steve did this to himself. Steve deserves to walk the halls alone. It's Steve's fault. 

But when you look at him, at his raw wounds, at his bruised knuckles, you know that he already believes he deserves every punch Billy Hargrove gave him. 

You hate Steve Harrington. But you really wish you'd been there to drive him to the hospital. 

Now (And Forever)

The tape sits buried in your drawer for three days. You don’t know what Family Video’s return policy is, but you hope you’re not racking up late fees. You doubt name dropping Dustin will work again.

It’s Saturday when you decide to watch Pretty in Pink. You remove the video from its sleeve. An envelope falls out.

The front has your name printed in squished, loopy script. You remember January at Steve’s house, a stack of thank-you cards courtesy of his mother awaiting the Harringtons’ sign-off. Steve’s hand would cramp and you’d take over while he made grilled cheese for the both of you. Love, The Harringtons, and there was no love in that house, but you think maybe Steve loved enough to make up for it. 

Hi, the letter begins. I hope you’re good. Robin told me you’re going to Hawkins State.

That’s fucking amazing. I’m so proud of you. Are you still writing poetry? I liked that one you wrote about the birds who shared a branch and kept each other warm. I still have it in my notebook in my room.

I’m sorry for the other night. I’m sorry for every night since freshman year, honestly. I’m kind of a dumbass, but you know that, so it doesn’t really excuse anything. I think I’ve actually lost brain cells since we drifted apart.

You crumple the corner, suddenly hot with anger. Who keeps telling him he’s dumb? You want names.

I didn’t forget you, you know. I got scared and I thought maybe I could ease into it, but then you recognized me and… well. I don’t blame you for running.

Anyway. I’m talking too much about myself, when there’s nothing to say. I’m really sorry about what I did, or, actually, what I didn’t do. Somebody told me I was living on autopilot, and that it wasn’t really living at all. I think it was you. 

I’m not living on autopilot anymore. I woke up. And I realized that you’re the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. I love Robin and the kids and this little family that has apparently invayd invaded your life too. Sorry about that. They never leave and they eat all your food. Good luck. 

But I miss you. I always have.

Shit happened these last few years that I’ll tell you about one day, if you want. I’d rather not, though, because you’ve always been the paranoiac (like that one? Robin said it’s an SAT word) of the two of us and I feel like this would just make you even more of one. But I will tell you, if you want to hear it. I want to tell you everything. I want you to tell me everything too. Like we used to.

I want you to tell me how college is going. Who the annoying jerks in your classes are so I can go beat them up (kidding). I want you to stop by to rent movies so I can lend them for free and you’ll yell at me about taking advantage of fre friendships. 

Fuck, I miss you. It’s always been there, bubbling below the surface. I never stopped missing you. I never stopped loving you. I’m sorry I didn’t write this sooner. I know you said writing is how we express things we can’t say. You were right. You always are. Can’t believe I forgot that. 

It’s okay if you don’t want to be friends. I mean, it hurts, but I respect it. I understand. Most days, I can’t believe people can bear to be around me. But then I hear your voice in my head, telling me that most people are shitheads and that I’m golden and. Well, I don’t know if I believe that, but you were right that most of the people I surrounded myself with were shitheads. Except you, of course. And then I went ahead and fucked that up.

I’ve been working on finding the non-shitheads of the world. I think I’m doing pretty well. And I wrote this because I realized that while I will probably end up buried in this fucking town, you’re going to do something incredible. And nothing incredible ever happens in Hawkins, so I figure you’ll be far away when you do it. 

I didn’t want to miss this chance to write things I never said. So here they are. And you can do whatever you want with them. You’ve always been the best of the two of us. I trust you.

You should watch Dirty Dancing. You’ll like it. I did. I’ll see it again if you want. I’ll watch anything with you.

Did you know there’s another Bond movie coming out in the summer? We could watch that one together too. If you wanted more time to decide.

Sincer

Lo

Your friend,

Steve

You don’t bother ejecting the tape. You run all the way to the bus stop, Steve’s letter in hand. 

You have to see him. No other thoughts register except that one. You have to know if Steve wrote these words because he can’t say them or because you won’t listen.

It isn’t too late when you get to Loch Nora. The neighborhood is dead, which is weird. Steve’s house looks frozen in time: his parents’ car isn’t in the driveway. You wonder if they’ve ever come back since you’ve been gone. You wouldn't be surprised if the answer is no.

There’s a tarp over the pool. The gate is locked with a chain. You can’t sneak in through the fence like you used to. Not that you would. You don’t think strangers can sneak through pool gates.

You knock on the door three times. And wait.

Steve’s car is in the driveway, a duller burgundy than when he first got it. There are a few scratches in the paint. No longer a prized possession. Maybe well-loved instead.

The door swings open. 

Steve says your name like a prayer. You swallow and steel your spine. 

“I got your letter,” you say.

“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck. His hair is damp like he’s just showered. It curls around his ears. Waves of want hit you. 

“I don’t want to be friends,” you continue before he can speak. “I don’t—I can’t do that again.”

Steve’s mouth draws into the saddest frown you’ve ever seen.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Thank you for telling me.”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, that’s not—I don’t mean it like that.”

His brows knit. “What?”

“I…” You pull out the letter and wave it. “Did you mean it? Do you love me?”

“Yes,” Steve whispers. It’s like a shout in the quiet street. “I meant it.”

“Like a friend?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Will you love me like a friend forever?” you ask. 

“Always.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“I love you as something more,” you blurt, watery. “I have for a long time.”

You hear the door shut. This is it: your heart on the line, all for nothing—

“Then I’ll love you as something more back,” Steve says. “I’ll love you any way you want me to.”

And he holds you the way you’d held him so many times. You inhale and wrap your arms around his neck. You’ve got an iron grip around the letter. Tears slip down your cheeks.

“I missed you,” you confess.

Steve nods against your shoulder.

“Yeah,” he says, and it sounds a little wet. “I missed you too.”

“You were wrong,” you say into his neck.

“Hmm?”

You pull back to look at Steve.

“Incredible things do happen in Hawkins.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve smiles, cheeks blotchy. “Like what?”

“We found each other again.”

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Seventeen - The Third Date

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

2.1K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

warnings: smut, p in v, hickies, blowjob

Series Masterlist

The third date. That was meant to be the big one, right? The one where... it happened? She had no reason to be nervous. It was Daniel, a man she knew incredibly well, a man she was pretty sure she was in love with.

With Milo eating his dinner, Y/N went to the neighbours door and knocked.

The neighbours Seventeen year old daughter pulled open the door. "Hey Miss L/N," she said. "Do you want me to get my mum?"

"Actually, Mol, I'm here to see you. Would you fancy babysitting Milo tonight? I can pay and I've got pizza money for you," she said.

"I'd love to," Mollie answered. "Let me just check with my mom."

The door shut in Y/Ns face and she waited patiently for Mollie to get back to her with an answer. If she couldn't get a babysitter for Milo she'd just have to reschedule with Daniel. Daniel wouldn't mind. He might even suggest to bring Milo along.

The door opened again and Mollie nodded her head. "She said its fine, Miss L/N. What time do you want me there?" She asked.

At 7PM, Y/N was ready to go. She was dressed to the nines, wearing her favourite dress, her favourite shoes and her favourite jewellery. Milo had told her all about his new favourite dinosaur as she did her hair and makeup.

At 7PM, Mollie the neighbour came over to begin babysitting and Y/N left. She kissed Milos head as she said goodbye and walked out of the front door, driving her way to Daniels house.

She didn't know what he had in store for their third date. Neither did Daniel until a couple of days ago. All he knew was that be wanted it to be special. Just them, not surrounded by loads and loads of people.

For days he had been attempting to cook and forcing his friends to try it. Day by day he got slightly better, but he was still nervous about the date to come.

He had started cooking as Y/N drove. He had done his preparation fir the meal during the day. All that was left to do now was cook it.

Just like she was, Daniel was dressed at his best. It felt incredibly strange to be dressed in a suit for a dinner in his own house. The candles were set out on the table, along with his best wine and best cutlery. This night was going to be perfect.

The doorbell rang and Daniel felt his anxiety spike. It didn't need to, it was Y/N, the person he was expecting.

When the door opened, his breath caught his his throat. He knew she was beautiful, knew she was incredibly beautiful, but this was something else. "Holy shit," he breathed as he welcomed her into the house.

Her shoes clicked against the floor as she stepped towards him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. When she pulled away the imprint of her lipstick was still there and she went to wipe it away, bur Daniel stopped her. He'd wear it with pride for the entire night.

"Milo is with a babysitter, so you've got me for the entire night," she said as Daniel led her into his kitchen.

He lit the candles and poured her some wine. The night started out as easy, light conversation. They sipped the wine slowly as they talked, and the conversation turned to heavier topics, the kinds of things they found themselves talking about late at night where she couldn't sleep and Daniel was in another country.

He tried with the dinner, he really did. But she had to step in. The recipe was open on the counter top and she cooked away.

"I'm sorry," Daniel said as he wrapped her arms around her hips. "I'm so useless."

"Shut up," she said with a laugh as she moved the food around in the pan, ensuring it cooked evenly. "It's a good thing I enjoy cooking, huh?"

She plated the food up and they sat at the table, talking their way through dinner.

"This is the third date," said Danny between bites of the food. That was delicious, but it didn't surprise him. "And, since it's the third date I was wondering if... you'd..."

It was so difficult to get the words out of his mouth. And she didn't want to assume that he wanted to take things to the next level.

Daniel groaned and finished off his glass of wine. That was all if the courage he needed. "Be my girl," he said. "I want to love you properly."

The dinner was abandoned. The moved around the table to get to each other. As soon as they were together she wrapped her arms around his neck and he placed hers on her hips, holding her flush against him.

"Yes, Danny. Oh My God, yes."

He pressed his lips against hers. Her eyes shut and her hands Oundle his hair, moving through it, tugging at the strands.

Daniel couldn't stop the groan that left his lips. His body was fully pressed against hers, pressing her against the table. "Fuck," he groaned, his grip growing tighter. He ever so slightly hiked up the skirts of her dress.

"Take me upstairs," she whispered against his lips.

Daniel picked her up. He took her into his arms and carried her through his house. It was incredibly romantic, the way he held her so tight. She couldn't help but stare at him as he carried her up the stairs. This must be how wonderful brides felt on their wedding days.

Daniel took her into her bedroom and laid her down onto the bed. As soon as he could he resumed kissing her, his body on top of hers, pressing her into the mattress. They'd kissed before, sure, but they didn't usually allow this for themselves, didn't allow for this much intimacy.

But they couldn't stay away from each other. Daniel wanted her. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything. It was a good thing she wanted him too.

Her skirts bunched up around her hips as she wrapped her legs around him. Daniel couldn't help himself; he rutted against her. She whined, her hands finding his hair, tugging slightly. He couldn't stop the groan leaving his lips.

"I need you," she whispered and rolled onto her stomach. Daniel obliged, unzipping her dress. He pushed it off of her shoulders, goose bumps following where he touched. "Danny," she whispered.

He slowly pulled her dress all of the way off until she was in nothing but lingerie beneath him. She'd taken her time choosing it out. It was her best pair, the only pair truly sexy. It was plain, with thin straps around her shoulders and her hips. A small bow sat in the centre of each piece of underwear, and the border was scalloped.

Daniel let out a low whistle. He wanted this image burned into his brain for the rest of his life. She looked so pretty laid out in front of him, laid out for him. He let his hand trail down her sides and she shivered.

He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his shirt, letting his clothes fall next to her dress. As soon as he was in nothing but his boxers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers.

Daniel held her tight. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over so that she was sat on him, hips moving on top of his. His eyes were shut as he groaned, his grip tightening. "Fuck," he hissed and she leaned down to kiss him again.

But the kiss didn't last very long. Soon Daniel was kissing down her neck. He didn't leave a hickey, not until he got to her chest. A series of moans left her lips as he kissed her chest, paying attention to what wasn't covered by her bra. "Danny," she moaned as he reached behind and unclasped the bra.

It fell away from her chest and Daniel threw it to the side. Immediately he began sucking a dark mark into the flesh, marking her as his. Her head was thrown back and she couldn't stop her hips from gyrating against him.

But suddenly she pulled away from him. He climbed off of him and Daniel tried to follow, but she pushed him back down, keeping him laying on the bed. She shuffled down to the bed until she was between his legs and pulling at his boxers, freeing his cock.

She wrapped her fingers around his already hard length and pumped. Once, twice, before she wrapped her lips around his tip. "Holy shit," Daniel cried out, accidentally bucking his hips towards her.

He escaped from her mouth but she quickly wrapped her lips around him once again. She ran her tongue along the veiny underside and moved her lips down his shaft. Her cheeks hollowed and she closed her eyes, concentrating all of her efforts into bringing him close to the edge.

Only close. He wasn't going to cum until he'd had his turn with her. But that wasn't her decision. Daniel pulled her off of him and pulled her up. He rolled her over once again, trapping her beneath him. He kissed her, his fingers hooking around the strappy waistband of her panties.

He pulled her panties off and dropped them onto the floor. Daniel pushed his fingers gently through her folds, feeling just how wet she was. He couldn't wait to be inside of her.

And he didn't have to wait. He rolled a condom on, pushed himself inside of her and she let out a gasp, gripping onto his shoulders. "Fuck, Danny," she whispered, throwing her head back. "Holy fucking fuck."

Daniel grunted. Nothing in the world could come close to this feeling. Slowly he began moving, pulling his hips back every so slightly and pushing back in. He kept his pace even, giving her time to adjust to his length.

But Daniel sped up. She moaned and whined, crying out his name beneath him as he fucked her.

She didn't last very long. Maybe it was all of the anticipation, maybe it was the fact that she hadn't been fucked like this since before Milo was born.

Daniel fucked her through her orgasm. "That's it, sweetheart," he grunted, kissing her slowly, tenderly. "So good f'me."

He pace slowed, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he brought himself closer and closer to his orgasm. "Shit," he grunted, his hips stilling against her as he came, spilling into the condom.

"Fuck," she whispered as he pulled out of her.

Daniel got rid of the condom and climbed into the bed beside her. He wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. He kissed her head and pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her. "So, you still happy to be mine?" He asked, unable to keep the smile off of his face.

"Are you kidding me?" She said as she touched his tattoo. It hadn't escaped Daniel just how much she loved his tattoos, loved tracing them. "I don't think happy is the right word. I'd go for something like... really happy."

"Really happy then," Daniel said and kissed her again.

They laid like that for just a few minutes, enjoying each others company. "What do we tell the kids?" She asked as she reached for her phone.

"The truth," Daniel answered as she turned the phone on and checked the time.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath. She jumped out of bed and quickly got herself dressed. "Fuck, I've got to get back to Milo and the sitter."

Daniel did the same. He jumped out of bed and got back into his trousers and shirt. But he left off the tie and didn't button his shirt all of the way. They'd just gotten done boning, but fuck she wanted him again. But there was no time, she needed to get back to Milo.

"Let me come with you," Daniel said, unlocking his phone to call her a cab.

Y/N stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She turned towards Daniel, undeniable smile one of face. "You seriously want to come with me?"

"Of course I do, you're my girlfriend."

Girlfriend. She loved the sound of that.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[spicycinnabun]

pt. 1 2 3 4 6 7 💐

Eddie turned around, finding none other than the flower nazi. His nametag actually said Steve. 

He had a leaf stuck in his hair, and his nose was abnormally rosy. Going by that and his nasal tone, he clearly had a cold. He sneezed, then looked annoyed at himself for doing so. “Ugh, sorry,” he apologized. 

He was fucking adorable. It made Eddie smile. “Don’t be. I don’t really need help.” Not with flowers, anyway, just with everything else about his life. “I’m only browsing.” 

It was a weird response, he realized. A guy like him, who looked like he belonged anywhere else, loitering in a shop like this. Just browsing. Right. Steve probably thought he was a creep. 

Steve was surprised to hear that the man wasn’t looking for anything. Last time, he had bought something, so Steve had assumed he was a returning customer. He had been staring at the wedding arrangement, so maybe he was trying to figure out if Harrington Floral was the best place to get them from.

“That’s some talent you’ve got,” Eddie added, pointing to the display.

Steve felt himself flush. “Thanks,” he said softly, ducking his head bashfully. It wasn’t usually guys who were doling out compliments on the displays. Typically, they just asked for his advice on what they should buy for their significant others.

The redness that bloomed on Steve’s cheeks was just plain delightful. It could have been due to his illness, but Eddie was pretty sure it was a reaction to his compliment. His smile widened. “You made it, right?”

“Yes, I did. I make all the displays.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, missing the leaf by a mere centimeter. “I think I saw you last month when I was building one in the window over there. Are you sure you’re not interested in anything?”

Instead of answering, Eddie reached out and plucked the leaf out of Steve’s hair. “Sorry, you had a little bud-dy trying to catch a ride there. Was distracting the hell out of me.” Eddie showed him the small, curvy leaf. 

Steve laughed, which made him cough a little. After clearing his throat, he got back to business. Steve was all about closing a sale, so he pushed a little. “Are you or someone you know getting married? I can, uh…” he thought quickly, “give you a free bouquet as a testimony to how well our flowers will hold up. I was just pruning the roses before you came in. What do you think about a bouquet of them?”

Steve remembered Eddie. And he’d laughed at Eddie’s horrible pun. But Eddie was caught off guard by the questions and the offering. Steve was observant. “I can’t let you do that,” he said. “My uncle is getting married. Hopefully. He hasn’t popped the question yet.”

It would be kind of terrible of him to accept free flowers if it didn’t work out and they never ordered any.

“That’s exciting,” Steve responded.

Genuinely, he felt like it was. Steve loved love. Working in a flower shop would be hard if he was bitter about being single. Also, the fact that someone else around his age wasn’t getting married made him feel a bit better about his own love life. Lately, it seemed like all his friends were getting hitched.

Eddie twirled a piece of hair around his finger, contemplating. He pocketed the little leaf. “I’m meeting the bride-to-be tonight. I suppose making a nice first impression wouldn’t be a bad idea.” He could give the flowers to Wayne to present to Kathleen when she came over. “How much for half a dozen?”

That was probably all he could afford, but he would be paying.

Eddie wasn’t selling as much anymore. Just weed, no powders or pills. Not since he’d discovered that one of his regulars had recently overdosed on Molly. He was at least partially responsible for that. He should have questioned the steadily increasing amount the guy was buying, but he had only been thinking about the money.

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.” Steve had no intention of taking any money for the bouquet. 

He walked around the store and started building it. Steve picked out four roses in red and pink, then added two pastel-dyed Asiatic lilies and sprinkled in a few strands of baby’s breath.

When he was finished, he went to the counter to put them down. He grabbed the twine and unrolled some tissue paper. “I’m sure there won’t be any more customers tonight. I’m kind of in charge, so I can totally give you these for free. Because I want to.”

Eddie pressed his lips together briefly, walking over and planting his forearms on the counter. He wasn’t some charity case. He didn’t like having debts, either. Maybe Steve had seen the type of clothes he wore and automatically assumed Eddie was trailer park trash who couldn’t afford it.

But Steve was smiling at him, looking sweet as a goddamn sugar cookie, and Eddie relaxed, rejecting the thought. That just didn’t seem right.

(Though why Steve wanted to give anyone, let alone Eddie, free flowers was a mystery.)

“You’re the boss, huh?” Eddie said. Steve looked young to own the shop, but maybe he was one of the Harringtons.

The name rang a bell. Steve Harrington. Dustin used to talk about a Steve during D&D. Gushed more than talked, really. Was he the same one?

“Technically, it’s my mom’s shop, but I’ve been running it for a while now,” Steve said. He couldn’t take all the credit.

Eddie gently drummed the counter, rings click-clacking as he watched those nimble fingers cut, tie, and wrap. His mom’s store. Well, wasn’t that precious.

Steve gave the bouquet one last critical look and a fluff with his fingers before handing it over. “With these, I think you’ll make the best impression. Maybe your uncle will even pop the question tonight!” Steve was excited for the groom to be even though he didn’t know him.

Eddie accepted the bouquet and looked down at it. “Thank you. It’s stunning.” Kind of like you.

He didn’t say that last part out loud, though he thought it hard enough that he’d probably projected it into Steve’s head.

Steve felt his face heat again. He didn’t know why he was reacting this way to the compliments. When women complimented his arrangements, he barely blinked.

Eddie brought the bouquet to his nose to smell its perfume. It brought another smile to his face before he lowered it. If Kathleen didn’t end up liking them, she was crazy.

Steve watched Eddie, grinning. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Eddie’s gaze flickered up. He lowered the bouquet. Why were they both smiling like fucking idiots? “Eddie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. Let me get you a card—you know, in case your uncle does propose and will need flowers from somewhere.” Steve grabbed one of the embellished business cards from the stack beside the register.  

Eddie reached out to take it, and Steve sneezed again just as their fingers brushed. It was a big sneeze that made his face screw up and nearly blew him backward. Luckily, he managed to cover his nose before he bombed Eddie. Eddie tried not to laugh at his irritated expression and soft whine as he sniffled.

Eddie pocketed the card and tugged his handkerchief out at the same time. “Here,” he offered kindly, holding it out to Steve.

It was his favorite hanky, his pirate one with the skull and bones, but it was the least he could do. 

Without thinking much about it, Steve took it and blew his nose. He let out a soft sigh, feeling a little better. Then he realized what he’d done. “Sorry…this is kinda gross now. Do you want it back?” 

“Oh no—no, that’s yours now,” Eddie said hastily. “I insist. Consider it a token of my gratitude.” He lowered himself in a teasing bow. “Farewell, Steve, fine sir.”

So, so fine. Even with all the snot.

Eddie backed out of the store, still bent over for extra theatricality. When he straightened up, Steve looked confused but was red in the cheeks again. Score.

On the ride home, Eddie almost missed a turn because he kept glancing at the bouquet.

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie 💕

[bellarkeselection]

Hello.

Would you write a Story with Jay Halstead x Reader ? ... First Meeting for example... :he cant take his eyes from her after he saw her/ meet her.She is the best Friend of Gabby. For Jay its the First Time that he feel that for a women,what he feels for y/n / reader.

She’s Meant For Me

- Here’s the request you asked for. Sorry it took so long and that it’s not very long. I am getting used to writing for Jay again

Molly’s bar was hopping tonight meaning I got called in to help Gabby work the bar orders tonight. Since I was the only one who had gone to bartender school and knew how to make more drinks then the Firefighters who owned it. Wiping down the bar with a towel I watched someone sit down in front of me. “You’re a new face. Are you gonna be the new bartender from now on?”

“Nah I’m not taking Gabby’s job. She just asked me for help and if I’m being honest they wouldn’t know how to make drinks if it wasn’t for me.” I smiled, bringing a hand to the side of my mouth whispering the last sentence to him.

The stranger had bright blue eyes and dark brown hair wearing a black jacket. “What’s your name?”

“Why do you wanna know? Are you a cop or something trying to spy on me?”

The guy chuckled, extending his hand across the bar counter top. “I am a cop, yeah. My names Jay, Jay Halstead.”

“Y/n, Y/n L/n.” I shake his hand, raising a brow teasingly at him. “You still didn’t answer my question though. Are you here to spy on me or just have me give you a drink?”

Jay takes out some money pushing it towards me. “I’m not spying, I swear. But I’ll do you one better than just making me a drink. You make one for yourself too on me.”

“That’s really nice of you.” I walked away grabbing a bottle of bourbon, pouring us each a drink.

Jay silently watched you walk away to make the drinks. The moment he stepped into the bar he couldn’t focus on anything but you. He hadn’t been in a long term relationship before. He’d been in flings or one night stands more than anything. But there was something about you in the first second he met you that he wanted a real relationship with you and no one else.

Glancing back over at the cop I saw my best friend Gabby walking over to him and I heard some of their conversation. “Hey I felt as her best friend that I should be the one to give you a warning.”

“What kind of warning?” He asked her.

Gabby leaned forward on the bar getting in his face. “The kind that means if you hurt her in any way. I will personally kick your ass to high heaven.”

“Gabby, listen I was afraid of breaking my cover when we met. I should have told I know that but - but I won’t lie to her.” Jay rambled off, raising his hands in the air.

I remembered Gabby talking about this guy that had screwed her over and nearby made the bar get burnt down literally. I’d never seen her so pissed and now it shocked me to think he had come back to the bar after they ended things a few years ago. “Look Jay, I’m just making sure you won’t do the same thing to her that you did to me. She’s my best friend and I don’t want her to have her heartbroken by the same guy who wasn’t honest with me.”

“I’m not that guy anymore. There’s something about her that makes me know I need to put in 100% and not put work first.” Jay ran a hand through his hair hearing me walking back over to them.

Carrying the two glasses over I slid one over to him seconds before Gabby left the two of us alone. “So you’re the guy who nearly set my friend's bar on fire hmm?”

“Y/n, please don’t think that I’d treat you like I did her if I asked you out. I-“

I cut him off. “Dawson, can hold a grudge. You should be lucky that I don’t.”

“So does that mean you’re giving me a chance?”

Nodding my head I raised my glass up. “For now, yes. But if you hurt me I’ll send my best friend after you.”

“I got ya. Here’s to our first meeting.” Jay picked up his glass and we clinked the two together, finishing the whole shot at the same time. I sent him a smile and he flashed his grin in my direction.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[stevie-petey]

heyy i know you prob need to write chap 3 (btw cjapter 2 wa sso well written as usual), can i req a blurb? maybe one where he cheers bug up after a bad day or some fluff of steve, bug n robin

since chap 4 was so ,,,, dark, heres some fluffy steve rob n bug <333

enjoy !

"im legally owed time with y/n."

"jesus!" steve nearly drops the stack of movies hes precariously balancing in his arms. he didnt hear robin come in, she isn't even supposed to be working today.

robin slides on top of the counter and stacks yet another movie onto steves already too large pile. "hey, did you hear me?"

"why are you here right now?"

"because im legally owed time with y/n."

"what does that even mean?"

"that im legally owed time with y/n."

steve nearly throws the movies hes holding in robins face. shes been here for not even a minute and he already wants to strangle her. he loves the girl, shes his best friend, but steve forgets how infuriating robin can be when she wants something.

angrily setting down the stack, steve pinches the bridge of his nose and faces robin. "alright, what the hell are you talking about?"

she stares at him. "i am owed. time with. y/n... legally."

"robin, i swear to god-"

"why are we swearing at robin?" you appear from the breakroom, carrying a few rentals in your arms. stopping next to steve, you hand them to him with a smile. "i found the rest of keiths stash. he has a very weird obsession with molly ringwald."

"y/n!" robin throws her arms over you and hugs you fiercely.

you squeak in alarm, though you allow your body to rest against hers. while youre always happy to see her, youre confused by robins sudden affection. "um. hi?"

"im legally owed time with you."

steve covers his hand with his hands and groans obnoxiously loud, but you simply laugh and nod eagerly at robin. "oh, i absolutely agree."

"you actually understand what shes saying?" steve looks at you incredulously. he cant believe it. youre actually going along with robins weird new scheme.

you roll your eyes at your boyfriend. "i mean, isnt it obvious?"

"yeah, harrington. its pretty clear, like crystal." robin butts in, shoving her hip against steves, effectively pushing him away from you so that shes the one now next to you.

"robin is legally owed time with me, so of course i have to abide by the law." you shiver slightly. "crime scares me."

it sickens steve how in love he is with you sometimes, and it sickens him even more that he finds you painfully adorable in this very moment. shuddering at the idea of crime, abiding by robins made up laws in a way that makes his heart twist.

"i'll be sure to never let you anywhere near crime then, angel." steve laughs fondly, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

robin gags and you giggle. "thanks, honey. does that mean youll let me go spend some legally obligated time with robin today?"

"but-"

"you hog her all the time!" robin steps between you again and she glares at steve. "i mean, i get it. youre in love and whatever, but y/n is my girlfriend, too."

you blink. "i am?"

not that youre upset about it, but it wouldve been nice to know sooner.

"i had her first!" steve scoffs. "and i dont hog her, i simply am always with her. theres a difference."

robin flicks him. "is the difference the chemicals imbalance in your brain from all that stupid hairspray?"

"okay, i do not use that much hairspray-"

"what happened to not letting me anywhere near crime?" you poke steves chest, pouting slightly. admittedly, you have been slightly distant from robin lately. not that its anyones fault, shes just been busy with band and you with the party and college applications. still, you know she misses you, and you miss her. "im sure you can survive one day without me, steve."

"no i cant."

robin gags again. "youre pathetic."

"youre the one who insisting youre legally owed time with y/n!"

"because i am!"

"hey!" you clap your hands, the sound loud enough to break up whatever quarrel is happening between steve and robin. "im right here, you know."

robin grabs your hand and pulls you away from steve. "and now youre leaving with me."

"oh, alright." you dont do much to fight her, allowing her to drag you towards family videos front door. "i was going to go willingly, but this works too."

"y/n!" steve shouts halfheartedly. he knows hes lost, but he doesnt mind. secretly, he loves how close you and robin are. he also recognizes how little time youve spent together, and he cant help but feel a little guilty about it.

you wave briskly at him, giggling under your breath. "call me tonight?"

"always."

"i love you!"

steve laughs. "i love you, too." then, just before the door closes and you and robin disappear, he calls out, "bring our girlfriend back in one piece, buckley!"

"make me!"

and with that, the door swings shut and the sound of your laughter lingers in the store.

steve smiles softly, the warmth of your presence enough to ignite his chest. he'll miss you today, but he knows that tonight itll just be you and him. no one else.

and thats enough for steve.

until he turns around and remembers the giant fucking pile of movies he still has to restack.

"fuck my life."

[kinzis-writing]

Three Years | George Weasley

Kinzi's 25 days of Christmas: Blogmas Day 2.

Summary: In which Y/N and George have been together for three years, and it takes a mistake for him to take the next step of their relationship.

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem! Reader

Warning(s): mentions of wizard war, mentions of death (not major character and not specified),

This could have ended way better, also the fact that this imagine is shorter than I like as well. I am doing my best at making my Blogmas posts as long as possible, but sometimes it takes me hours to plan the plot of these short stories out. I am a perfectionist, so that is why I never re-read and edit any mistakes because I am afraid of wanting to go back and change the whole story. *Fred did not die in the war*

Three years, it has been three years since George had grown a pair and asked Y/N to be his girlfriend. Since then, there had been many events happen in the course of their relationship. They had moved past the awkwardness of the beginning of the relationship, they had gone through their firsts that every relationship goes through, and everything in between.

Their relationship had survived the second wizard war but had challenges. Seeing as Fred had to be taken care of because of an accident and then George getting hurt before then. It was a hectic and stressful time for the couple, but now everything was back to normal. Well, normal as everything could be after losing some of the nicest people.

Christmas was tomorrow and Fred and George had many customers in and out of the joke shop. Whether it was for Christmas gifts or something before going home for a Christmas prank. They had many customers a day and George had found it hard to be able to see Y/N during the holiday season. The joke shop was closing early and they would stay closed until after Christmas because they all knew the wrath of Molly if they did not show up on time or if they left early.

On Christmas day, Molly was having dinner at the newly built burrow and told everyone that dinner was at 5 o'clock sharp. That morning, George had gotten up to wrap the present for Y/N that he had spent a decent amount of money only to find it missing from the place that he had put it.

"Hey, Fred." George called knocking on his bedroom door and walking in, "have you seen-" He stopped when he noticed Fred's girlfriend wearing the necklace and earring set that he bought specifically for Y/N. The reason he had picked them out was because he had seen her looking at them and she refused to buy them because of the price they costed. “Found them.” He mumbled to himself, his eyes not leaving the necklace.

He was sure that there had to be some sort of mix up. His twin would not steal his girlfriend’s gift on purpose. Instead of getting angry, George did what he believed was right, found Fred and asked him what he thought he was doing.

“I’m sorry,” Fred mumbled when he noticed the distressed look on George’s face. “I grabbed the wrong gift and before I could correct it she was so happy.” He trailed off making George groan. “You could give Y/N the gift I bought for Angela.” He suggested.

George thought about it for a moment, they had hidden their gifts in the same place. Meaning it was an easy mix up and he knew that Fred was telling the truth about grabbing the wrong box. Fred had planned on getting Angela a promise ring, and that gift would work if George hadn’t already given Y/N one of those almost a year ago.

“I’ll come up with something.” George mumbled before leaving his twin to himself. He had less than four hours to come up with the perfect gift for his girlfriend and he was determined to find it.

Four hours had flown by and by the time George and Fred joined everyone at the burrow, Y/N was already there. It wasn’t a shock to the twin, seeing as she was early to everything.

“You’re lucky you aren’t a minute later.” Y/N spoke as she walked up and greeted George from where she had been helping Molly. She had gotten there early knowing that it would be hectic if she didn't. "Molly has be waiting for you guys to arrive."

George gave her a quick kiss before going and putting their gifts under the tree. He wasn't sure how Y/N would like his gift, but he had come up with something... sentimental. Angelina had gone into the kitchen to see what the girls were up to, while Fred and George joined their brothers and Harry by the fire.

"I doubt that Ron even got me something." Hermione stated to Y/N who was setting the Table for Molly. "He's still so awkward about some things."

Y/N let out a small laugh, "I think that's just Ron." Y/N was a year between each group. Fred and George were a year older than her, and she was a year older than the golden trio, while being two years older than Ginny. "Hi, Angie." She greeted with a smile her eyes flickering to the earrings and necklace the girl was wearing. "I love your jewelry set! I wanted to buy the same one, but I didn't want to pay that price."

Angiela gave the younger girl a small smile, "Thank you, Fred got it for me." she replied before going over to greet Molly.

Dinner had come and gone within an hour and Molly had the kitchen cleaning itself. The family gathered around the fireplace as they got ready to open presents. Y/N was sitting on the floor, between George's legs as he sat on the couch. She was chatting with Hermione as they were talking about the after-holiday plans and if anything had to change.

"I think I am going to move." Y/N told Hermione as the girl played with the necklace she always wore. "The place I live at is getting worse and the landlord won't fix it."

Pretty soon the presents were being handed out by the Weasley's and everyone gathered knowing the Christmas tradition at the Weasley's house. Y/N had gotten George the thing he had been wanting for a while and he was beyond excited to receive the gift. It was unexpected and it made him nervous about her opening her gift.

"Can you go upstairs?" George asked Y/N as he noticed Molly hand her the gift that he had gotten her. "I would prefer you not open it in front of everyone." he mumbled quietly as the couple stood up and snuck off.

The pair in the room that they assumed was Ginny's for when she came back home just due to the looks of the room and so on. "There was a mix up of gifts this morning," George started as Y/N went to open her gift. "Fred gave Angela yours and-" He stopped talking when he noticed Y/N's reaction to what was in the box.

Wide eyes stared down at the little jewelry box, you would assume it would hold something that you could wear. Yet, it was nothing close to that. The key laid flatly in the velvet box, and y/n did not know what to think. "What Are-What are you asking?" she asked scared to assume.

Maybe this was a sign that she could come and go as she pleases instead of knocking, or maybe it was exactly what she thought it was. "Will you move in with us, well me?" He asked carefully. "I know it's not expensive and like I said, Fred gave Angela yours by mistake and-"

His sentence was interrupted by Y/N stepping forward and wrapping her arms around the boy she had loved for four years, even though they had only been together for three. "It's perfect." She assured to ease his nerves at the fact that his gift was something he already had, or just the price of making a copy of the key. "You didn't have to get me anything."

George shrugged, "I figured it was time to take the next step, it just took a push from Fred." he spoke softly to the girl he knew he was so lucky to have.

"Well, you just saved me the stress of apartment hunting." She replied back as she grabbed the key out of the box and handed him the box back, knowing that it probably belonged to Fred's other gift. "I love you so much, you know that right?"

"Of course, love." George nodded with a smile on his face. "I love you as well." With that Y/N leaned forward and caught the Weasley's lips between hers. They kissed for a moment before pulling away, George with a cheeky grin, "I could have proposed instead."

Y/N's smile grew at the thought of eventually marrying George and becoming a Weasley herself. "That sounds like a plan for next year." She winked before kissing him one more time and leaving the room, him trailing behind her.

"Are you saying you'd rather live with me, instead of marrying me right now!?" He asked not knowing how to take the information if she were to confirm.

"I have to live with you first to see if we're compatible." She told him with a shrug, but she was joking. Regardless of what happened she knew that she would love him.

"What does that mean?"

I hated the way I ended this, but Blogmas day 2 is complete! I have been working on Blogmas, requests, and my Mattheo series so I have been busy. This is on top of having to study for my finals so.

[harrysgal]

I DIG YOUR CINEMA (2)

harry styles x yn aspiring filmmaker — social media AU

I know I’m just starting and don’t actually have much experience with this, but I’m actually having a lot of fun doing it and already can’t wait to post more.

About the smau: yn starts posting videos on youtube and is trying to build a career as a filmmaker. Things are going pretty well for her and she starts getting more attention when she creates content about shows she goes to. She’s also a fan of Harry’s music and some of his fans start getting suspicious when his team starts interacting with her.

Disclaimer: The story it’s set in 2021 and it will follow their relationship through the LOT leg in the US. Since this is nothing but fiction, I will be following some of the real timeline but also adding my own stuff. On top of that, I won’t be basing myself on Harry’s actual posts.

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PART 1 — MEET YN / MASTERLIST

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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (PART 2) — LAS VEGAS

liked by bestfriend, yourmom, mollyjane_x and 22,108 others 

yourinstagram HELLOOOOOOO FABULOUS LAS VEGAS NEVADA 

view all 3,045 comments

user1 soooo… a new full time job that took you to las vegas? 👀 yourbrother Please behave  bestfriend don’t get (too) drunk without me pls harryfan STOP FIRST LOT SHOW IT’S IN VEGAS 

↳ harryfan2 She’s going to the show right???? I mean it can’t be just a coincidence anymore IT JUST CAN’T ↳ harryfan NO I KNOW THIS IS IT I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES

Aug 26, 2021 •

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liked by bestfriend, cuteguy, mollyjane_x and 22,451 others 

yourinstagram you’d think a lady in vegas would be out there getting wild but this one actually has been locked in her hotel room for the last 27 hours overthinking her ideas and freaking out about this new job lol if any of you could send me a pizza or something id appreciate it. thanks. 

view all 3,111 comments

user1 nooooo you’re so talented whatever it is i know you can do it!! bestfriend yn ✋🏻  cuteguy Should I give you a call? 😊 harryfan17 I would too be freaking out if I had to work for THE harry styles lol

↳ harryfan16 we still don’t know if she is tho  ↳ harryfan17 C’mon she’s in vegas and molly and jeff are following her ↳ harryfan16 still 🤷🏻‍♀️ tour doesn’t start for another few days so this could be just about something else  ↳ harryfan16 also maybe she’s there because she wants to be and not bc she’s “working” for him. she’s done videos about several artists and she isn’t working for any of them is she?  ↳ harryfan17 Well yes but she literally just said she was starting a new job so 🤷‍♀️ ↳ harryfan16 so everyone just assumed HARRY, out of all people, hired her? c’mon guys lol she could be working for just anyone and STILL go to a show. one doesn’t have to be related to the other.

Aug 28, 2021 •

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liked by anthonypham, bestfriend, lookitsnyoh and 25,103 others 

yourinstagram fun fact: if you post something on the internet people around you might see it 🫠

guess im lucky this lovely group who still don’t know me at all cared enough to drag me out of my room and show me around the city. sometimes i get so caught up inside my mind that i forget how important human connection is — which is funny if you think most of my videos are exactly about that lol. so plssssss make sure to surround yourself with (nice) people. also get some sleep, drink water and feed yourself. it’ll do wonderful things for you!!!

anyway my mom was worried about my “not leaving the room post” so this is just me saying everythings good!! (i also already called her of course <3)

view all 3,557 comments

bestfriend LOVE YOU harryfan the new followers the new likes 😭 it’s happening i knew it  user1 so true bestie!! this reminded me of your 2nd video i think

↳ yourinstagram omg yesssss!!  ↳ user1 ahh i missed your interactions <3  ↳ yourinstagram i knowww! promise i’ll try my best to keep interacting even if it’s not as much as before 💗

lookitsnyoh my belly still hurts from all the laughing 

↳ yourinstagram and my mind is still rushing from all the talking ↳ anthonypham go to sleep you two 

harryfan9 I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING BUT OMFG I’M SO HERE FOR IT

Aug 29, 2021 •

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liked by anthonypham, mollyjane_x, bestfriend and 27,257 others 

yourinstagram sightseeing left me speechless. but here’s a picture from tonight. 

view all 4,107 comments

user1 omg you’re feeding us this week! i’m so happy you’re being active again <3 harryfan78 POST A PICTURE OF YOURSELF I WANT TO MEET YOU AT THE SHOW BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE 

↳ user4 calm down pls? we like to behave as respectful human beings on this profile

bestfriend ❤️❤️❤️ bestfriend i’m losing my mind but i’m also so excited and proud! user7 I miss your videos :( lookitsnyoh when was this? where was I? bummed that I missed it!

↳ yourinstagram sorryyy just a last minute decision after dinner :( ↳ lookitsnyoh ohhhh makes sense now! Glad it left you speechless ↳ yourinstagram i mean the city is beautiful  ↳ lookitsnyoh sure thing it is 👽

Sep 1, 2021 •

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liked by harryfan, harryfan2 and 15,157 others 

fanwhometharry GUYS I JUST MET HARRY I’M SHAKKNG I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE NOW 

view all 2,107 comments

harryfan64 omg where did you meet him??

↳ fanwhometharry AT THE BELLAGIO  ↳ harryfan64 is he staying there???  ↳ fanwhometharry NO!! I MEAN IDK?? I DONT RHINK SO I JUST MET HIM OUTSIDE AT THE FOUNTAINS  ↳ harryfan74 hmm not tryin to be rude or something but that sounds like a weird place for him to be tbh ↳ fanwhometharry I FUCKKNG KNOW THAT?? I MEAN MY PARENTS WANTED TO SEE THE WATER SHOW SO I TAGGED ALONG BUT NEVER EVER THOUGHT ID BUMP INTO HIM THERE

harryfan62 you’re so lucky!! was he alone???

↳ imetharry I DONT KNOW?? I DONT REMEMBER I WAS SO NERVOUS  ↳ imetharry I KNOW THERE WAS A GIRL NEARBY BC SHE HANDED HIM A PEN WHEN I COULDNT FIND MINE BUT I DONT KNOW IF SHE WAS WITH HJIM OR NOT ↳ harryfan62 who was this girl? Anyone from the LOT crew? ↳ imetharry IDK I JUST SAID I DONT EVEN KNOW IF SHE WAS WITH HIM OR NOT 😭

harryfan15 Hi hun! Don’t listen to people, they're just jealous. It was really sweet of him to sign that for you! Hope you have a great time at the show 💕

↳ imetharry THANK YOU 😭😭 HE WAS THERE JUST WATCHING LIKE A NORMAL PERSON SO I DIDN’T WANT TO TAKE A PIC IF PEOPLE DON’T BELIEVE ME THEN I DON’T CARE I KNOW IT’S REAL 😭😭

Sep 1, 2021 •

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liked by gemmastyles, anthonypham, jefezoff and 35,109 others 

yourinstagram having to keep this secret from the world was the most cruelest thing that anyone has ever done to me. but whatever… it’s fine… i’m okay… i’m just gonna pretend this wasn’t a big deal and i didn’t just watch one of my favorite artists perform my favorite songs… and then i’ll just casually say: pls stay tuned for next wednesday when my new video will be up 😇

(i’ll be back and share more details once my serotonin levels have normalized again)

view all 7,125 comments

bestfriend i love you so much thank you for representing us so well  harryfan I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT OMFG I CANT WAIT I KNEW IT harryfan2 YN KASDHUHHD PLS OMFG YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THIS AND LEAVE user1 😲 i can’t wait for this one! harrystyles soz 

↳ harryfan OMFG HARRY ↳ harryfan5 ?????????????????????????? ↳ harryfan3 AUIDHIAUSHDBAJH WTF ↳ harryfan9 ARE YOU F KIDDING ME WHATS HE DOING HERE

cuteguy Nice! Glad you’re having a good time darling. 

Sep 4, 2021 •

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PART 3: DENVER

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If you happen to read and enjoy this, pls let me know? 🙏 thanks!! it would be nice to know if this is working, or what else would people would like to see.

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of the proposal, Bradley wants to make sure all three of you are on the same page. And as happy as you are, you're still having a hard time deciding how to best merge your past with your future.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley held you in the grass for a long time while you clutched that baseball in your hand. He couldn't remember another time he felt so calm as Everett ran around in the grass tossing a ball up in the air and catching it. 

"Will you move in now?" you asked, setting your heart covered baseball in the grass and running your fingers along Bradley's mustache and stubble. "Ev and I both really want you to."

"Yeah, Kitten. I'll move in," he promised. "Right after the three of us have a conversation about expectations, okay? It's really important to me that we're all on the same page."

"Oh my god," you groaned, crawling up his body to get better access to his lips. "How are you this perfect?"

"I just needed to get my priorities straight," he said between kisses. "I never meant to hurt you like I did before, you know that, right? I just never in a million years thought that I'd meet anyone like you and Ev and fall in love so hard."

You just whimpered and snuggled up on him again. But once Everett started bugging to play baseball again, you pulled Bradley to his feet. This time Bradley put on the catcher's gear and let Everett pitch to you, which was honestly pretty funny. 

"Am I good enough to play on the rec league, too?" you asked as you missed another pitch.

"No," Bradley and Everett replied in unison as you laughed. 

"But that's okay, Mommy! Bradley loves you anyway even though you aren't that good at baseball."

"That's true," Bradley replied, removing the mask when they were done playing. "Being good at baseball was not a prerequisite. She just needed to understand and appreciate our love of the Phillies," he added, giving Everett a high five.

"Can we come to your game?" Everett asked, eyes wide as Bradley scooped him up along with his gear bag. You carried the bucket of balls back to the Bronco with your special ball right on the top of the pile. 

"Kiddo, you can come to as many games as you want. And later today or tomorrow, we can talk about me moving into your house, okay?"

"Okay!"

"But I'm not going to stay in the extra bedroom," he said seriously. "So we can talk about that too." He wanted Everett to understand that he wasn't going anywhere, and that he was going to marry you as soon as he could. As soon as you wanted to. 

Once he got Everett buckled in, he helped you load everything into the back. You had some grass stains on your shirt, and your clothes were all rumpled, and Bradley was so in love with all of it.

"Come here," he whispered with a smile as you slipped into his arms right where you belonged. "Can we get married tomorrow?" You laughed and he buried his face against your neck. "Please, Kitten? I'm dying for it now!"

"Bradley, we've been engaged for an hour."

"That's a pretty long time," he replied, enjoying the feel of your hips in his hands. 

"We can talk about this later." You giggled and kissed him until Everett started whining that he was starving for lunch.

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

The Independence Day party at Maverick's hangar was in full swing by the time the three of you arrived in the Bronco. There was almost nowhere to park, but Bradley found a spot next to Bob's truck. 

"Bob came?" you asked, eyeing his truck. "I think Molly's working today. Something about double overtime."

"I don't know why she didn't just take the day off," Bradley mused, killing the engine. "Does she really need the extra pay? It's not like Bob isn't her glorified sugar daddy now."

"What's a sugar daddy?" Everett asked from the backseat.

You glared at Bradley and muttered, "Yeah, Bradley. Try explaining that one to a seven year old."

He had the decency to look a little concerned before turning back to look at your son. "Uh... I think that Bob bought a lot of candy for your Aunt Molly."

"Ohhh," Everett replied. "Yeah, that makes sense, because she likes snacks. Do you think he'd buy some for me, too?"

Bradley cleared his throat and nodded slowly. "I think so. Just as long as you don't call him a sugar daddy," he muttered.

"Ev, why don't you go say hi to Bob and Natasha," you said, pointing out the window. "I see them right there. But don't tell anyone about the baseball ring yet, okay?"

"Okay!" Ev called, and then you and Bradley were alone in the front seat, and you started laughing.

"Really? A sugar daddy?" you asked.

"I'm sorry, Kitten! I'm still new to all this dad stuff."

Your lips parted in a soft smile as you unbuckled your seatbelt and crawled toward your fiance. "But you're already really good at it," you told him when he welcomed you onto his lap. "It's like you were tailor-made for us."

You kissed along Bradley's neck and he pulled you snug against him. "The two of you are perfect for me," he grunted, watching the sunlight catch your diamond ring. "Let's get married soon?"

"Okay," you agreed, your lips teasing his ear. 

"Did Danny ever give you a ring?" he asked, unable to help himself. 

"No. And I should have never married him. He obviously didn't want to but felt obligated to."

"I hate that guy," Bradley growled. "I'll be so much better."

"You already are," you promised him. "But would you mind if we don't tell anyone we're engaged yet?" you asked, and Bradley pulled away from you. He watched you remove your ring and reach for the glovebox. 

"Why not?" he asked, clearly upset as you put the ring inside and closed it.

You quickly placed a dozen little kisses at the corner of his mouth. "I want to tell Molly first. That's all."

"Oh," he replied, nodding as he rubbed his hands along your legs. "Sure, Kitten. We can tell Molly first."

You liked how he said we, like you were all part of a team now.

"I love you, Coach," you whispered, kissing him before you hopped down out of the driver's door and into the hot sunlight. Bradley jumped down behind you with his hand at your back, and he led you toward Everett.

"Mommy! Can we get changed and go play in the splash pad? Please?" he begged just as Nat strolled up and gave Bradley a kiss on the cheek. 

"I'll take him over," she said. "I've already got my bathing suit on, and Mav set up some changing stalls."

"Thanks, Nat," you replied, handing Everett his swim bag. 

"Kitten," Bradley groaned, wrapping his arms around you. "It's killing me not to tell her we're engaged."

You giggled and tucked your hand up inside his shirt. "You can tell her tomorrow, okay? Just let me tell Molly first."

Bradley just melted into your touch. He had his hands all over you the rest of the day as you ate burgers and chatted with everyone. He even ducked inside the tiny changing tent with you, kissing you all over as you tried to put on your leopard print bathing suit.

"I haven't seen this since the tee ball swim party," he groaned, slipping his index and middle fingers underneath the strap at your shoulder and pulling you closer. "I love it when you dress up like a kitten for me."

You bit your lip. "I did wear this to the pool party just so you'd notice it."

"Mmm," he hummed, letting his fingers stroke your nipple through the fabric. "Oh... I noticed it, Baby."

You let his hands slip lower to your hips. "And now, after you move in, I can dress up for you all the time."

"Fuck," he groaned, his lips finding the pulse point in your neck and sucking gently. "Please, let's get married next week."

You laughed softly and shook your head. "We'll talk about it later, Coach. You need to get changed so we can go splash with Ev." Then you brushed his erection softly with your hand before ducking outside. 

When you walked away, you heard him cursing softly, and the smile on your face felt like it was stuck there permanently. You were getting married. A second time. To Bradley. A man who loved your son every bit as much as he loved you. And he wasn't afraid to show it or talk about it. He wasn't afraid to let you know what you meant to him. You had never experienced anything like this before.

"Mommy!" Ev called out, soaking wet and holding up two water balloons.

"Don't you dare!" you told him, but he just held one out to you.

"Let's get Bradley," he whispered, looking past you. When you turned, you saw him heading your way in his swim trunks, pushing his aviators up on his nose. 

You nodded at Everett. "Absolutely." And then you watched as your balloon managed to hit Bradley in the shoulder right after Everett's hit him square in the chest.

Bradley looked up in shock. "Oh, it's on," he growled, and you tried to hide behind Everett as Bradley stormed closer with a playfully angry look on his face. 

"We need more balloons!" Everett screamed, pulling you toward a large bucket filled with them. Then the two of you launched dozens of water balloons at Bradley. Everett's accuracy was a lot better than yours, and Bradley pretended he was getting more and more wounded with each balloon he took to his body.

"You're too good!" he gasped at Everett, dropping to his knees on the splash pad while Everett laughed. Then he ran over and tackled Bradley with a big hug. You could hear Bradley tell him, "Hey, your pitches are looking great, kiddo," while Everett hugged him around the neck. "So proud of you."

"Thanks, Coach," Everett replied, and Bradley kissed him on the top of his head before scooping him up and standing. 

"But I don't know if I can trust the two of you now," Bradley said, squeezing your butt as he walked toward the sprinkler. "Some family you turned out to be. Getting me soaked before I was ready." He walked into the spray of water, and you listened to Everett scream with laughter as Bradley got both of them even more soaked.

Then Nat and Bob joined in, and you wished Molly was here. Because you had to be the one to remind Bob to put on more sunblock in her absence. And you didn't want to text her a picture of your ring, you wanted to tell her in person about it. You wanted her to see it and be excited for you. 

If she had the day off tomorrow, you'd try to stop by after work and tell her. But for now you'd just enjoy the rest of the first day of your engagement. You ran toward the sprinkler and wrapped your arms around Bradley.

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

"That's a familiar sight," Maverick said as the sun was dipping lower in the sky. Bradley gave him a funny look as he held a very sleepy Everett in his arms. "It's just that you look so much like Goose. And Everett looks like he could be your son." The words hit Bradley right in the heart.

"I want him to be," he managed, voice raspy with emotion. 

Mav nodded and grinned before looking at the ground. "You picked a good one." Bradley looked where Mav tilted his head and saw you talking to Bob. "Well, both of them."

He held Everett a little tighter as he slept, head on Bradley's shoulder. "Thanks."

Mav patted him on the back as he took Everett to the Bronco where he started to stir. "Where are we going?" he asked in a sleepy little voice that made Bradley smile.

"Home. You can sleep until we get there. Gonna watch fireworks on the back deck and have a snack."

Everett just nodded and then fell back asleep, his head tipped to the side. Bradley buckled him in and waited patiently for you to finish saying goodbye to Bob. 

"You think he'll be my brother-in-law someday?" you asked with a laugh as you climbed in next to Bradley and glanced back to check on Everett. 

"You know," Bradley said, scratching his chin as he started the engine, "yeah, I do."

"Good," you replied, opening the glove box as Bradley drove down the long drive to the main road and turned toward the sunset. He breathed a sigh of relief as you slid your ring back onto your finger and examined it in the golden light.

"It's so pretty," you whispered, taking Bradley's hand in yours. "Thanks for letting Ev help pick it out."

Bradley scoffed and squeezed your fingers gently. "You think I could have done it without him? Not a chance. I almost texted Molly for final approval."

Your laughter filled the Bronco, and Bradley smiled as he got on the highway toward your house. "She would have ruined the surprise!"

"I figured," he mumbled, kissing your knuckles. "Better to keep it a secret between the boys."

You were quiet for a little while as Bradley drove. Eventually you turned toward him and whispered, "I do think we should get married pretty soon."

"Yes," he agreed. "We're both off on Saturday...."

"Please!" you laughed. "I didn't have a real wedding before. So I'd like to plan something this time. Nothing crazy, but a real wedding would be so nice." Your voice was soft and dreamy. 

"Anything you want, Kitten. Anything. I mean it. I'm already getting the things that are most important to me: you and Ev. So whatever and whenever works for me." 

When Bradley pulled into your driveway and thought about how he'd be living here soon enough, you unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed into his lap.

"Watch it, Kitten," he whispered as you rubbed yourself against him. "We've got company, Baby." 

"I know," you replied softly, kissing his lips. "I just love you so much, and today has been kind of wild, but I want you to know that I can't wait to marry you."

The way your hand slid up to rest over his heart while you kissed him had Bradley ignoring his own caution. He let his lips and mustache trail along your neck as he reached for the button of your shorts.

"Can we go watch fireworks?" Everett asked through a yawn from the backseat. Bradley closed his eyes and sighed, kissing you one more time.

"Yep," he grunted. "It's almost time." Then he carried Everett inside after you unlocked the door. He got both of you settled on the back deck under a blanket, and then he made some popcorn and carried it out just as the first fireworks lit up the sky. 

Bradley sat next to Everett who held the bowl of popcorn. "This was a really good day," Everett said, the colors reflecting in his eyes.

"I loved today," you added, turning to look at Bradley as you ate some popcorn.

"Yeah," Bradley said with a deep sigh. "I got to spend it with my family."

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

Everett was looking a little worse for the wear, snuggled up against Bradley as the fireworks ended. 

"Can we all talk for a minute?" Bradley asked when it was just the three of you sitting quietly under the moon glow. 

"Okay," you agreed as Everett nodded.

"I just wanted to say," Bradley started before pausing for a beat. "Kiddo, I'm going to move in with you and your mom. If that's okay with you."

"Yeah!" Everett cheered, perking up. 

Bradley kissed his forehead. "But I'm not going to move into the extra bedroom, okay? Your mom and I are going to get married, hopefully pretty soon. And I'll move my stuff into her big bedroom."

"Okay," Everertt agreed. "Maybe we can turn the other bedroom into a Phillies room or something."

"Hey, that sounds great," Bradley agreed, laughing as you rolled your eyes. 

You ran your fingers along your son's cheek so that he was looking at you. "Ev, Bradley is going to be part of our family. For real."

"I'm not going anywhere, okay?" Bradley asked, and Everett's gaze snapped back to him. "I'll be around all the time. You understand?"

Everett nodded enthusiastically. "Does that mean you'll be my dad soon?"

Bradley met your eyes, and your heart started pounding. His gaze was questioning, but you weren't sure exactly what you wanted to say here. "He'll be your stepdad, Ev."

Everett still looked a little concerned as he wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck. "Can I call you dad?" he asked Bradley, and you felt tears in your eyes. All you wanted was for your son to have everything he deserved. Your mind was filled with thoughts of Danny and child support and Everett's face in tears.

But Bradley held him tight and nodded against his neck. "If you want to. And if it's okay with your mom."

When Everett looked at you, a smile crept along your lips. "Yeah, it's okay with me."

Then you listened to the two of them in quiet conversation before Bradley took Everett inside and carried him up to bed. You followed them up the stairs but went into your bedroom and let them have a few minutes to themselves. You contemplated changing into something cute to wear to bed with your fiance, but you ended up sitting on the bed wiping away your tears instead. And then after a while, Bradley walked in, and you could tell he had been crying as well. 

He paused next to the bed and you asked, "Are you okay?"

A nod was all you got right away. Then he rasped, "He called me dad. While I got him ready for bed."

"He loves you."

Bradley looked up at the ceiling. "Listen, I had every intention of walking in here and absolutely ravaging my wife-to-be. I swear. But instead, I think I just want to hold you first."

How could anyone possibly disagree with that? You reached out for his hand and pulled him into bed with you and into your arms. "I love you, Coach."

"Fuck, Kitten," he groaned against your neck as you hugged him. "I didn't think I would end up crying so much the day I got engaged. Actually... I never really thought I'd ever get engaged. Especially not to a mom."

You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off with his lips on yours. "But you're right, Kitten. I was tailor-made to be with you. And Everett."

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed all of the words from your lips. You were left softly sighing as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, the prickle of his mustache on your skin driving you crazy for him.

"I was going to put on something cute to celebrate with you tonight," you whispered. 

"No, no. I love that stuff, you know that. But you're perfect just like this." Bradley kissed you through your grass stained clothing before he started to remove it. "Perfect."

When he took his time like this, it was almost better than when he went wild. Bradley ran his nose along your lace covered breasts, his thumbs grazing your sides, skimming down your ribs. Wordlessly, he moved every bit of your clothing before he pulled his shirt over his head. His skin was hot beneath your hands, and the sound of his heavy breathing filled the space. When his lips met your bare breasts, you whimpered. His big palms were on your hips, holding you in place as you spread your legs wide for him.

His words were too soft, the sound of your whimpering nearly drowning him out as his lips and mustache met the sensitive skin below your belly button. 

"Bradley."

His hands left your body, and you heard him work his zipper down. But then his mouth was on your pussy, kissing and licking you as your fingers tangled in his hair. And he would be here every night with you. When he wasn't deployed, he'd be in bed with you, right here, every night. 

"Bradley," you whispered again, this time with a little sob. You were going to marry him, and he would always be there with you. 

He swiped his tongue slowly up to your clit before kissing you there. "Kitten?"

You pulled him up by his soft hair and wiped away your tears. "I love you." Then his lips were on yours, and you could feel his cock at your entrance. The way your body welcomed every part of him, like you'd been waiting for him, had you wrapping your leg around his waist. He groaned softly against your lips as he sank into you, filling you up. But he didn't move yet. Not for a few minutes. He just stretched you in the most wonderful way while you pulsed around him, and he told you everything he was going to do now that you were engaged.

"I'll move in next weekend, Kitten," he whispered against your neck. "And then I'll start doing your yardwork, because you kind of suck a pulling weeds, Baby."

"Hey," you whined, with a laugh that turned into a moan as he pushed himself deeper inside you. 

"I'll pay half the bills. And I'll make breakfast in the mornings. And you can pack my lunch. And I'll play baseball with Ev, because I love him. And then I'll fuck you all night, because I love you."

His words got ragged as he started to thrust. And as soon as he was moving, his rough hairs harsh against your wet clit, you could feel the pressure building inside you. After a few more strokes, you were whining his name, and he was smiling against your lips. Bradley fucked you slow and steady through your orgasm, drawing it out and making your sweat-slick body shiver beneath him. And he went nice and slow until he was grunting and spilling himself inside you. 

Your fingers dug into the back of his neck as he kissed you hard. "Please don't make me wait too long to marry you. To be Ev's stepdad for real."

"I won't." 

As he panted on top of you, a plan was already forming in your mind. You tried to hold back your grin as you thought about it. Bradley would love it, and so would Ev. If it was even viable. But you'd have Bradley all to yourselves soon enough, and he could help you plan it out. 

A little while later, as you were snuggled up with Bradley, nearly asleep, he whispered, "I told Everett I'd take him to the park tomorrow evening. Thanks for sharing your son with me."

You laughed softly, and then you froze up.

"What's wrong?" he asked, stroking up and down your spine with his rough hand.

You propped yourself up to look at him, unsure if you should even say anything. 

"Kitten. Did I say something wrong?"

"No," you whispered, shaking your head slightly. "It's just that... I never told you this, but I don't want to have anymore kids, Bradley." You bit down hard on your lip as he studied your face. 

He looked a little surprised but not disappointed. "Oh. I mean, I hadn't given it much thought, to be honest. I guess I thought the three of us would be perfect, you know? Happy."

You heaved a sigh of relief and wrapped your arms around him again. "Yeah. The three of us. Happy."

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

The following day, after work, you put your ring back on and drove to Molly and Bob's condo. Bradley was picking Everett up from summer camp, and you'd have a chance to talk to your sister alone for a few minutes if Bob wasn't back from base yet.

You knocked on their door loudly before using the key they gave you to let yourself inside. 

"Come in!" Molly called out, and you found her in the living room, under a blanket, eating chips and watching reality TV. "Hi!"

You laughed and plopped down next to her. She looked tired as you kissed her cheek. "They working you too hard?" you asked, running your hand across her forehead. "Molly, you look exhausted."

She yawned and snuggled into your touch. "I'm so fucking tired. These double shifts are killing me. I thought it would be an easier adjustment to all daylight shifts than this! But they keep asking me to pull extra hours, because we're short staffed."

"That's not good," you whispered with a frown as she yawned again. But she just brushed you off.

"I'll be fine after Bob dicks me down and I get a good night's sleep again tonight for work tomorrow."

"Oh, I didn't really need to know that, but thanks?"

She nodded at you with a serious look in her eyes. "I love him. He's the sweetest man in the world. And he has a big cock. I'll be just fine. Don't worry about me."

As you cleared your throat to try to change the subject, Molly reached for your hand and screamed, "What is that?!" She started pawing at your engagement ring, kicking her blanket to the floor and jumping up. "You're getting married!"

You laughed at your wild eyed sister standing in front of you in a sports bra, boxer shorts and mismatched socks. "I'm getting married!" you confirmed, and she screamed again. "He asked me yesterday."

"Oh my god! Bradley really went all in on the ring, huh?" she asked, pulling it off your finger to examine it. "I mean...damn! He probably thought you'd say no if the ring sucked. Look at the size of this thing!"

"I wouldn't have said no!" you told her, laughing as she pretended to be blinded by the sparkle. "Ev helped him pick it out."

Molly screamed again. "Ev helped?! Okay, Bradley can stay forever, I guess."

The two of you were on the floor laughing and sharing the bag of chips when Bob walked in wearing his khaki uniform.

"Mo, it's uniform time, Honey," he said with a grin, but then he saw you on the floor with some chips halfway to your mouth, and he blushed. "Oh... you're here too... that's great." 

"Hey, Bob," you said before shoving the chips in your mouth and standing. "I was actually just leaving, so feel free to have uniform time."

He still looked embarrassed as you patted his cheek. "Oh, um..."

"I just stopped by to tell you both that Bradley and I are getting married. Hopefully pretty soon." You held up your hand, and Bob pulled you in for a hug. 

"Ugh," Molly groaned from the floor. "He's going to be my brother-in-law."

"You just told me how happy you were for me!"

"I am," she confirmed. "I just kind of like to pick on him. It's fun. And easy."

You rolled your eyes and hugged Bob tight. "Stay tuned for a wedding date, okay? I just need to make a few phone calls." Then you turned to leave, but Molly followed you after she kissed Bob.

"You can stay for dinner, if you want."

You smiled and put your high heels back on. "Nah, I don't want to interrupt uniform time."

Molly grinned like the devil, but she said, "I ordered some cute shirts for both of us and Ev to wear to the rec league games. But the Bradshaw on the back of yours is going to have a whole new meaning now! Are you going to ditch Danny's last name?"

"God, yes," you groaned. "As long as it's okay with Bradley."

"And what about Ev?"

You puzzled her question in your mind for a moment. You'd been waiting for the child support from Danny to kick in. But you'd probably be waiting a lot longer. He wasn't going to hand it over to you willingly. But you just knew that Everett was going to want a new last name as well, and honestly it made you want to cry. 

"I'm not sure," you whispered, forcing a smile and kissing Molly one last time. "Go have fun with Bob. I'll see you soon." 

And when you got home, Bradley and Everett were there, eating a pizza they brought back after playing in the park. Bradley jumped up to get a slice ready for you, and you hugged him around his middle while Everett told you about his day.

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

Ev called him dad! He's moving in! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 27

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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[bvnniz]

It’s literally me again!!

I sent this to the other one but yeah

So how about bunny is walking to Val’s studio (cuz Vox asked her to give him papers) and she walks in on them filming 🤪

y’all idc this is my favorite request & from one of my fav bunny!reader x vox fans too ❕

𝜗𝜚 warnings: porn, valentino, valentino’s affectionate with bunny, ANGEL DUST & BUNNY FLUFF BC BUNNY REMINDS HIM OF MOLLY ( i used to write angel & molly angst for my friends ages ago idk why y’all let me write something that could involve this )

A/N: vox allows bunny & valentino being affectionate with each other because of how often bunny is without vox due to him not always being around due to work and him knowing his lil bunny needs her attention and valentino has a soft spot for bunny so

“little one c’mere” vox said as he noticed you walk past his office door, you immediately turning around and skipping into the room on his usual spot. “hi bunny.” he smiled kissing you on the head.

vox was affectionate with you, but it wasn’t always immediately when you were with him, so him immediately kissing you confused you.

you tilted your head staring up at him. “you’re never this affectionate.” he sighed, shaking his head before starting to fix the ribbon bows you wore around your ears “i need you to go down to valentino’s studio. he promised he wasn’t gonna shoot anymore today so you should be fine, i just need you to give him some papers.”

you groaned hiding your head in his chest. “i’ll buy you a new stuffed animal.” you immediately took your head off on his chest before holding your hands out for the papers.

he handed you the papers and you immediately got up and started to walk out the door until you heard him clear his throat “forgetting something, princess?” you took a second before skipping back over to him and pressing a kiss to his screen.

you just stood at the door to valentino’s studio, too scared to actually walk in. but you did, immediately seeing one of his camera men standing near the door. “bunny, good to see you again. gonna assume you’re looking for val. he’s all the way down at studio 7 watch out though, he’s in a bad mood.” you nodded before walking over to studio 7.

valentino had heard your walking and immediately turned and smiled at you waving you over to come sit on his lap, you immediately started walking over but stopped as you saw that he was filming.

“CUT!” valentino yelled before chuckling at you. “conejita, over here.” you turned to him still frozen causing him to have to move you himself and put you on his lap. “if voxxy ever needs you to behave turns out he can just bring you here, no need to hypnotize you.” he let out another chuckle, all you did was lay your head against his chest.

angel dust had been in the scene, once valentino said cut he had noticed your frozen body, immediately putting his robe on then sitting next to you and valentino, although he wished he had been able to get to you before valentino did. “hi bunny.”

you just let out a weak hi in response, causing valentino to let out another chuckle. “poor little conejita isn’t used to seeing so much sex, poor baby is frozen scared.” angel just started making faces at you, trying to get some happy reaction out of you

there was a point where valentino had to watch over you for about a month because vox and velvette had to do stuff for business and weren’t anywhere near to be able to watch you, so valentino’s staff grew very fond of you. angel dust being the one who watched over you the most, wanting to make sure valentino never did anything to you.

after about an hour you still were scared, valentino did his ‘best’ to try and calm you down but ended up giving up and reading through the paperwork vox had sent you to give him. which is when vox materialized into the studio.

“there a reason she’s still here?” vox questioned, speaking quietly so only angel dust & valentino could hear if they were paying attention, in the off chance you had just fallen asleep. “was shooting a scene, she saw it, been frozen scared since, little conejita was so scared she was basically shaking.”

vox sighed before sitting on the other side of valentino and pulling you onto his lap. “hi bunny. you wanna go get that new stuffed animal?” he hoped the promises of the stuffed animal being brought up would get you all excited but they didn’t, you just moved your leg so they were across vox’s lap instead of straddling then laid your head on his chest.

angel just got up before walking around the couch and putting his head near yours “you want to meet fat nuggets?” his comment was the only thing to get you to have some sort of response, you just nodding your head. although angel still had one more person to ask, he turned his head to valentino

“no! you are not bringing that-” vox cleared his throat, valentino looking over then seeing you actually giving a response to something. “ugh fine. but if that pig ruins any of my studios he’s out for good.” angel nodded immediately going to his dressing room to put more than a robe on before heading towards the hotel.

“what i don’t get anything for allowing you to meet fat nuggets?” vox smiled as he saw you lean forward and kiss valentino on the cheek before laying your head back down on his chest. “my little bunny in a better mood now?” you nodded putting your legs on valentino’s lap which was your sign that you were in attention wanting mode.

vox let out a chuckle “you know you’re like tinkerbell you need attention or else you’ll die.” he smiled down at you raking one of his claws through your hair. “such a pretty little bunny.”

“voxxy im telling you, you need to have velvette update the little conejita’s wardrobe.” he said while playing with one of the holes in your tights, you loved wearing tights under your skirts but they were always full of holes due to you in your clumsy nature falling and then getting torn from that.

“velvette’s watching her tomorrow for me, believe me velvette will be having me have to carry about a years worth of clothes for her when i go to get her tomorrow.” you just shrugged “i like when velvette gives me clothes.”

angel dust had walked back through the door, out of breath from running from the hotel and back with fat nuggets. when you saw him you immediately got up and ran towards him. “bunny meet fat nuggets.” he said handing him to you, which you immediately cuddled your face into him.

vox and valentino had gotten up and followed you, just to make sure they were there in case something went south. “i want a pet!” you practically whined causing vox to sigh “you have vark, baby.” he said while making sure you didn’t drop fat nuggets as you sat down on the ground with him - although vox was a little more concerned of you sitting on the floor of the studio, not knowing the last time valentino had the floors cleaned.

“i’m practically vark’s pet though! he once made me sit on the floor so he could have the couch all to himself.” that was vox’s first and last experience of trying to leave you home alone, he thought if anyone tried to break in to hurt you vark would protect you and if you needed attention vark was there for you. but he ended up coming home to his bedroom door locked and you crying on the bed.

vox sighed “fine i’ll come back tomorrow with a stuffed animal and a pet for you.” which just caused you to look up at angel dust “can i keep him?”

so you’re experience in the studio wasn’t too bad, although you were still pretty upset that angel dust wouldn’t let you keep angel dust but he did say on the days where valentino had to watch you he would bring fat nuggets for you to hangout with so everything was good !

[sc0tters]

Friend in Need | Luca Fantilli

summary: who would have thought fake dating could end up so messy?

request: yes/no

warnings: mentions of underaged drinking, allusions to sex, swearing.

word count: 2.39k

authors note: I’m embarrassed to say how long it took me to write this after I made @fantillisdaylight pick what I wrote next 😭 this one has been in the works for a while now but I’m glad it is finally done and I like how it ended up.

You didn’t know how you landed up in this position.

It all started in Italy, the time you were meant to have to enjoy the company of your best friend before he went off to the NHL. Adam had been your person for years on end and this was going to be the first time you were going to be away from him. So during this trip you aimed to spend as much time as you could with Adam, but even with that you still needed your time alone. This time it came in the form of tanning as you watched him play football on the beach. The reason you weren’t with him was that you were using the trip to fall out of love with him.

So as Adam stood on the beach laughing at something of one of the local girls said to him, you couldn’t help but notice the shadow that formed above you “you’re gonna ruin my tan!” You whined cutting yourself off as you saw Luca standing above you “sorry sweets.” Luca teased as he sat next to you pushing your feet off of the end of your lounger.

Luca had been the irritating older brother Adam always had. He was only three months older than you but somehow you never found a way to connect with him in the way you connected with Adam “you enjoy watching him try to get laid?” Luca teased causing your cheeks to grow warm as you tucked your hair behind your ears.

The smirk he had on his face hardened as he ran his fingers through his hair “I do not care what happens to him in his bed.” You shook your head making Luca laugh “so the crush you’ve had on him-” he couldn’t finish his sentence as you slapped your hand over his mouth.

Your eyes were wide when you realised he knew “when I remove my hand you will not say a word about it?” The hockey player nodded as he listened to you “I think someone should have noticed with you having this crush since you were six.” Luca pulled back when you went to quiet him again.

You swore it wasn’t nearly as obvious “it’s for the best.” You knew you couldn’t argue with him not when Luca could spot your lying cues from a mile away “you know I would believe what you said if you actually dated a guy.” It was no secret to anyone that all you did was hook up with guys, you opted for it instead as you couldn’t bring yourself to like someone else.

Luca sighed as he placed his hand on your knee “look all I’m saying is that I could help you out.” He offered with a sparkle running across his eyes “unless you plan on getting your brother to like me I don’t see how this is going to work out?” You grumbled pushing your hair out of your face to focus on him.

He swore his mouth when dry “I’ll date you.” The hockey players offer made you furrow your eyebrows “what would be in it for you?” Somehow you were still ready to hear him out like you were out of ideas.

He shrugged thinking about all of the different reasons why “Rutger says Molly has a new boyfriend and I need her to know I’ve moved on.” Luca was spending his first weekend home with the McGroarty family and he really didn’t know how was meant to face his ex with her new happy boyfriend “I’m in.” You nodded holding your hand out for him to shake.

But you pulled it away when you came up with a list of agreements “we need some agreements though.” You pointed out making him sit there in silence “we gotta be used to kissing for anyone to think we are together.” Both of you were more than physical so it was only logical to think that you would be making out with your boyfriend.

It made him smirk as his fingers traced figures on your knee “and how do we feel about casual sex?” Your cheeks turned red matching the shade of your bikini “not gonna have my boy fucking anyone else.” You grumbled making him smile “you should probably know how to kiss me then?” Luca teased making you scoff.

You rolled your eyes as you shook your head “you’re an ass you know that right?” You mumbled leaning forward as you cupped his cheek letting your lips graze his “and your boyfriend now too.” Luca pointed out as he grinned pecking your lips once more.

That was well over seven months ago and somehow you were still in this entire thing with Luca. The Christmas break was originally when you assumed that it would end. It would have been the perfect time for things to end but you actually found yourself no longer in love with Adam, instead with his brother.

Your friends were oblivious to the lies that your relationship lay on, sometimes you even thought that Luca opted to forget about it as well. He seemed so happy with his arm around you at parties as he would whisper those sweet nothings into your ear. But you started feeling like you were going insane, there was never the promise that he was yours.

Because whilst you hoped Luca was falling in love with you too, nothing made that feeling you felt in bed with him palatable. The hockey player would kiss your head and within an instant you were feeling like the only girl in the world, or at least that was how you felt until you were back in your dorm alone. Reminded of the fact, that Luca was yours for a mutual agreement that was meant to benefit you both.

It seemed that everyone became your worst enemy when you returned to campus from the December break. Every girl that looked at Luca, was all of a sudden flirting with him and you found yourself going insane. Of course Luca never went for any of them yet you thought that it was only out of respect for you. As you two grew further apart, the worst fears came through your mind as he seemed to have less and less time for you.

Part of you felt stupid though as you got upset because you two were never really together “look I want you there tonight in my jersey.” Luca spoke softly as he leaned against your bed “you sure that Maisie wouldn’t be better in it?” Your words were sharp as you turned to face him again.

It irritated him as he roll his eyes “if I wanted Maisie I would be in her room wouldn’t I?” The hockey player snapped taking you back, it wasn’t that he raised his voice. It was the fact that he made no effort to suppress your concerns, he never did “I don’t want to go if you want to act like that.” You grumbled as you looked down to the sleeves of your hoodie.

Luca watched you avoid his gaze “I need to get going.” He sighed looking at the time on his phone as he was soon to be late to the walk in “bye.” The boy mumbled leaving you with not even a kiss on the head as he left you alone.

You couldn’t help but frown as you pulled your legs closer “how were you this clueless?” You groaned staring at the first picture that was taken after you two started this lie. Luca had his arm wrapped around you as you grinned, both blissfully unaware of the camera that Adam used to take that picture. That moment in time felt so real yet now here you sat willing to give up everything to get back to that.

Just as anyone could have predicted the boys won, but as the celebrated the win one player seemed distracted. Luca stared at the door hoping you would show up. He still felt bad about leaving you in the way that he did “where is your girlfriend?” Rutger furrowed his eyebrows as he had grown used to see you by his side “she isn’t feeling well.” Luca lied as he frowned.

Rutger didn’t fall for the answer as he scoffed “Kayleigh was told about the fight.” You had grown close to the blonde over the last few months “look she just got jealous about Maisie.” Luca shoved his hands into his pockets.

It made the blonde boy laugh “you really think you being here when she’s not your real girlfriend-” Rutgers scoff was short lived when Luca’s hand slapped over his mouth “how do you know about that?” Luca’s voice was barely above a whisper as he began to wonder how many other people knew about it too.

The younger boy rolled his eyes “y/n told me about it in November when she got drunk.” Luca remembered that night, you had just had the worst week of tests and got drunk.

Rutger watched you fall into the seat next to him “you look happy.” He smiled holding his arm out for you to hug him “like loving Luca.” You confessed as you nodded letting a grin paint your face as you watched Luca excitedly win a game of beer pong.

The American was happy to see both of his closest friends in this relationship “but he doesn’t love me.” You added with a huff making the boy grow confused “you think your boyfriend doesn’t love you?” Rutger swore it was the alcohol talking as he sat up straight to look at you.

He watched you nod “it’s like fake dating.” You shrugged before your eyes went wide “don’t tell him!” You raised your voice causing people to look in your direction.

Rutger was quick to shush you “you guys are just telling people you’re together?” He cocked his head as you nodded “but I think I kind of love him now.” You huffed pressing your head against the couch behind you.

Luca felt his mouth go dry as Rutger recalled the interaction “I should go.” The Canadian nodded to himself as he got up “don’t you want to stay with Maisie.”Rutger teased knowing all too well about your issues with her.

The way Luca let his lips press into a fine line made him laugh “just go get your girl.” Rutger took the beer from the Fantilli boys hand as he ushered him off.

Luckily for him you hadn’t left your room, instead opting to call Adam as you missed your best friend “I’m sorry I’m not there for you.” Adam frowned as all you had said was that you and Luca had fought “is it wrong for me to wish that he didn’t go to that party?” Your question was met with a knock at your door that had both of you going quiet.

It was weird watching the door “y/n please can we talk?” Luca pleaded from the other side of the door “I think your wishes are going to be answered.” Adam smiled as he sent you a wave before he hung up.

You walked with caution to your door before you opened it “look I need you to be really honest with me right now.” The hockey player began as he pushed past you letting himself into your dorm “do I have to?” You whined looking at your feet.

He nodded watching you shut the door behind yourself “do you love me?” The question made your heart jump into your throat “of course I do I mean we’ve known each other forever.” You tucked your hair behind your ear as you let out a soft laugh.

But that only made him grow irritated “you know that it’s not what I’m asking about.” He pointed out as he crossed his arms “you don’t want to know my answer.” You quipped back as you chewed at the inside of your cheek.

The boy walked closer to you leaving you to step back until your back hit the door “like hell I don’t.” Luca raised his voice as he shook his head “look if you can’t maybe I should go.” He sighed taking a step back as tears formed in his waterline.

Your palms began to grow sweaty “yes I love you.” You blurted out seeing him freeze “I have for months but that wasn’t meant to happen so I try to hide it.” You rambled on not seeing how he smiled at the fact that your cheeks went red.

Part of Luca began to feel cruel as he let you carry on “look I want all of you, not some half ass agreement where you just end up in my bed.” You raked your fingers through your hair as you sighed trying to remain straight faced as the boy placed his hands on your waist “you have all of me.” His words were so simple yet they did so much for you.

He smiled as he stepped closer to you shutting the gap between you both “I want to be yours for real.” The hockey player mumbled as he nodded “I love you.” It was his turn to get talkative as you stood there in what felt like shock.

All of the months of dating under a false pretence lead up to this “do we want to do this for real then?” You cocked your head as you smiled “you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that.” He nodded as he kissed your lips enjoying how it felt to know that you were finally all his.

Your hands wrapped around his neck pulling him close like you were scared to lose him “but just to be clear you will tell Maisie to go fuck herself if she continues flirting with you?” You pulled away making him laugh “think it might be funnier if you get the chance to do it for f’me.” Luca countered making you press your lips into a fine line.

He grinned as he pulled you even closer to him as he pulled the two of you onto your bed “I’m kidding!” He laughed as he kissed your lips once more knowing that he was going to enjoy his night with you where you were finally his.

[samantha-chicago]

Protective - *NSFW*

Summary : When avoiding your over protective brother can lead to some good sex

Pairing : Dante Torres x Atwater!reader

Warning/s: Smut

Under 18s DNI

Having a brother in the best unit in the city had some perks but there were also a lot of disadvantages. When your boyfriend messaged saying that he had found your handbag in his car when he got to work this morning you thought nothing about just turning the car around and going to meet him to get it back. You had also forgotten you were in the same clothes you were in last night when Kevin came around to see you before you headed out on your date.

“Ah little Atwater. You want up to intelligence?” Trudy asked and you nodded 

“Yeah please Trudy” You smiled and she walked out from behind her desk walking you up to intelligence. “Thank you Trudy” You smiled as she walked away. Dante instantly smiled over as he saw you. 

“Hey Y/N what are you doing here?” Kevin asked walking over as he spotted you 

“I left my bag at Molly’s last night. I know it was stupid but there was nothing in it but make-up touch up and perfume.  Torres found it and I’m now just here to collect it” You smiled 

“You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday” You looked down at your outfit due to your brothers words 

“I wear outfits more than once” You shrug as he gives to the protective look 

“I don’t trust you. I’ll find out who it is” He replied and you rolled your eyes. “I promise I will and I’ll hurt him” 

“Okay Kevin. You’re jumping to conclusions that there’s even anyone there” Kevin gave you a look as you rolled your eyes walking over to Dante. 

“I just left it in my car” He smiled 

“Okay. I’ll walk down with you” You shrug before following him downstairs and out to his car 

“It’s quite fun avoiding your brother” He hummed standing in front of you as you leaned against his car

“Is that right? You could have reminded me to get changed!” You exclaimed. You were hiding your relationship because Kevin typically scared all of your boyfriends off. 

“Oops” He smirked and you shook your head. Dante leaned down pressing a kiss to your lips “My house tonight?” He asked against your lips 

“Sounds like a plan to me, officer” You hummed. 

A couple hours later you were sitting in Dante’s house after he got home from work. You were meant to be watching a movie but in all honesty you were far more interested in him. 

“Enjoying the sight?” He teased with a smirk and you nodded. 

“I don’t know who wouldn’t. But they better not. You’re mine” You hummed as he moved so he was now on top of you. His arms holding him up next to your head

“Oh yeah? That right?” He teased and you nodded 

“I’ll kill them if they look at you” You hummed 

“I’d have to arrest you then” He replied 

“Hot” You shrugged and he smirked 

“Oh yeah?” You nodded looking up at him “Let’s see if you’re saying that later then Querida” You could feel the heat between your legs as he called you darling in Spanish. “Bedroom” He whispered against your ear before moving away. You happily complied walking through to the bedroom stripping off your clothes as you did. Laying on the bed as Dante walked in the room 

“mi niña hermosa” He whispered and you smiled putting your body weight on your forearms as he walked over taking his shirt off. You frowned as you saw new cuts and bruises on his chest. 

“Baby” You whispered running your fingertips over them 

“No. Tonight is all about you Querida” You smiled lying back as he carefully pushed you back. In one swift move he moved your panties down your legs and threw them to the other side of the room. His fingers moving from your hips down to your lips, barely touching you as he spread your wetness. Your hips moved subconsciously as you wanted his touch more and more. Sex with Dante was now something you craved. He moved up kissing you as his fingers began to rub circles on your clit. 

“More please” You whispered as he pressed kisses along your jaw, one finger sliding into you followed by a second causing a moan to escape from your lips. Dante with his other hand palmed his cock before pulling his boxers down and pushing in, filling you up. Dantes fingers are still working their magic on your clit as you grabbed the sheets on his bed. Head thrown back as you clenched around him, moans now more frequent as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten 

“Ven querida” Dante’s Spanish was all you needed to push you over the edge. Your body feeling as it was falling apart as Dante continued to thrust into, his thrusts now becoming more staggered. After a moment he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your head as you came back around from your high. 

“Querida. Need anything?” He asked and you shook your head 

“Just to clean up” You smiled now looking up at him. Dante disappeared for a moment before coming back with a cloth to clean you up. 

“Are you sure? No fruit juice, a little snack?” He asked being the complete gentleman that he was 

“No. I’m okay I promise” You smiled as he wrapped his arms around you “What inspired that sex?” You asked looking up at him 

“The fun of hiding from your brother”

[its-time-to-write]

Hi! Could You write a Jamie x Kent!reader? Like roy finds out when phoebe recognizes Jamie in a cute way,and he loses his mind on reader and Jamie,but phoebe saves the day? Thanks and best wishes✨

Got it! Here ya go! Thank you for requesting 💙

take your time while you’re mine

Roy is your brother. Molly is your sister. Phoebe is your niece. You’re a Kent, and (in your opinion) you’re the worst one. Roy’s all about football and coaching and being grumpy, Molly is a badass doctor/mom, and Phoebe is, well, Phoebe. She’s way cooler than any of you, and she’s only eight. 

You feel like you’ve been clawing and scratching your way to the top ever since you were younger, trailing after Roy and Molly.

You forged your own path, acquiring university degrees like it was your job. You let work consume you, traversing the world in a journey of self-discovery until Molly called you one day, with the news that Phoebe’s dad was gone for good. She didn’t ask, but you answered anyway. You dropped everything and flew back to London.

You’ve been around ever since, changing diapers, taking Phoebe to school, going to Roy’s football matches. You’d settled into your own skin a little more, and although it wasn’t a path you chose, it was a path you loved.

Your favorite was hanging around after matches, waiting for Roy to drive you home. You got to talk to his teammates and joke around with them about Roy’s gruff demeanor. There was only one you didn’t like. Jamie Tartt.

You’d have to agree with Roy’s assessment of this one, although Molly banned all talk of Jamie in the house. All it would take is for one of you to start and then you and Roy would just go at it, about how he was a little prick and far too self-righteous and how his stupid, awful hair was nothing compared to his stupid, awful face.

You were glad when he was kicked off the team.

You were upset when he came back.

But, he started hanging around.

His hair was less stupid and his face was less prick-ish, especially when he was cracking dumb jokes to make you laugh.

He’d talk to you while you waited for Roy, then slip away as soon as he appeared.

Jamie-talk was less banned around the house now, but you still didn’t engage. Roy didn’t notice but Molly did, because she cornered you on one of her rare days off to ask you about it.

“You like Jamie,” she states, as you were elbow-deep in dishes.

You look at her, alarmed. “What? No, I don’t. He’s a prick.”

Molly raises an eyebrow (a family trait Phoebe has not yet mastered). “Then why don’t you talk about him?”

You shrug as best you can without flinging soap. “Like I said, he’s a prick. And you were the one who said we couldn’t talk about him.”

Molly returns your shrug. “That was because you both were feeding off each other’s nasty energy. Didn’t want it around Phoebe. But Roy obviously doesn’t hate him anymore, and you’re clearly head-over-heels for him.”

The plate you’re scrubbing slips from your grasp, splashing both you and Molly.

“What makes you say that?” you ask, as casually as possible.

Molly laughs. “Not sure if you’ve forgotten, but I am your older sister. I know more about you than you know about yourself.”

“Fine,” you say, dropping a fork back into the water. “He asked me out two days ago and I said yes because I do like him, but I don’t want Roy finding out, so you’d better not tell him!”

Molly grins. “Fuckin’ knew it. My lips are sealed.” 

—

You’re successfully sneaking around Roy for one month, when the shoe drops. You and Jamie had been taking Phoebe out about once a week when you were positive Roy was either out of town or “getting his old-man rest,” as you like to call it. Seriously, that man could sleep an entire weekend away. 

This time, he and Molly have something at Phoebe’s school. She insisted he come because, quote, “I’m not braving those crazy mums by myself, and you’re scary enough to keep them away.”

Roy says yes, obviously, because he’d do anything for Molly. You would too, which is why you, Phoebe, and Jamie are strolling around Richmond, and why she and Jamie are trying to convince you of their need for ice cream sandwiches. 

“Pheebs, we literally just had ice cream cones. Why do you need an ice cream sandwich?”

“Because it’s lunch time.” The duh in her voice is heavily implied. 

“And, babe, you have sandwiches at lunch,” Jamie adds. 

“It’s a totally different food group,” Phoebe agrees. 

You roll your eyes. “Babes, Moll will absolutely kill me if I let you. No way.”

You’re saved from their rebuttal by a voice saying, “What the fuck is Tartt doing here?”

The three of you jump, startled, and you and Jamie unclasp hands. You turn to see a frowning Roy. 

“Roy!” you say, unconvincing smile on your face, “I thought you were at Phoebe’s school. Where’s Molls?”

Roy’s glare never leaves Jamie’s face. “We left early. Now answer the fucking question.”

 You can see Phoebe starting her mental tab of Roy’s swear words. Of all the times not to have her notebook handy. 

She knows neither you nor Jamie are going to be able to come up with a coherent response so she says, “Uncle Jamie picked us up to get ice cream.”

This registers with Roy, possibly a little too well, because he steps closer to Jamie and growls, “Hang on. Why the fuck does she call you ‘Uncle Jamie?’”

Jamie shrugs, grateful for any moment he’s still breathing. “Dunno. For me lovable personality?”

“No,” says Phoebe, “it’s because you’re dating my aunt so that makes you my uncle!”

Roy turns on Jamie. “You’re fucking what?”

Jamie holds up his hands. “In my defense, I wanted to tell ya. She thought you’d be mad.” He points at you.

“Was I wrong?” you ask, arms crossed, “Or is this another thing you’re going to be overprotective about?”

You can see Roy’s self-control working overtime as he tries to figure out a response that is going to a) not make you mad b) irritate Jamie and c) be appropriate for Phoebe’s ears. He finally settles on a strained, “Great,” and you smile.

“I love Uncle Jamie,” Phoebe says, fully aware of everything Roy is thinking. “He buys me ice cream and makes us laugh.”

Roy gives you a look that says, we’re fucking talking about this later and you pretend not to see it. You feel for Jamie. You have a feeling that 4am practices are about to get a lot more hellish. 

At least you won’t be alone for Roy’s interrogation. You know he’s going to lose his fucking mind when he hears Molly knew this whole time. 

You don’t worry about it yet, though. Right now you just listen to Jamie and Phoebe swear to Roy they haven’t had the chance to get their ice creams yet, and maybe he should take them because it’s getting close to lunch time and they’re quite hungry?