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#to making pizza from scratch at home
poohbea · 11 months
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I am so tireeeedddd 😭
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birchsapfaerie · 2 years
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Its going to be a rainy gloomy day, let me make us some pizza ☺️🍕❤️
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werepires · 2 years
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I don’t think I’ll ever care for Michelin star restaurants because what will ever taste better than a home cooked meal from someone you love
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dollsahoy · 1 year
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"AI art is like ordering a pizza--you picked everything out but you still didn't make it"
way to miss the whole "that pizza would not exist if you hadn't ordered it" aspect of using algorithms to generate images
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peaceinsilence · 2 months
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my hubby went out and bought me coffee, flowers, some samosas, and wine today for International Women's Day 🥹💘
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How to Make Homemade Pizza from Scratch – A Step-by-Step Guide
Pizza is one of the most popular and beloved dishes in America, and for good reason. The perfect pizza is a delicious combination of crispy crust, tangy sauce, and gooey cheese. While ordering pizza delivery might be convenient, making homemade pizza from scratch is a fun and rewarding experience that can impress your friends and family. In this article, we’ll show you how to make homemade pizza…
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forcefemd · 10 months
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i love cooking with my trans girl friends. i feel most at home in a kitchen after dark and the extractor fan humming in the background and it's all humid and a little steamy from boiling pots. dark outside too. orange within. i used to look forward to getting shitty takeout when hanging out with people and that for sure has it's merits (baja blast) but oh isn't it nice to light a burner yourself. especially on a gas stove, even if they're like a bit shit. this must be categorically true because adam ragusea told me it. and there's so much shit about passing or being beautiful as a tgirl being losing weight or whatever. fucking yawn!! i'd not care for an ounce of that ever again if it meant that i could ask my friend to change the music whilst my hands were covered in half-kneaded pizza dough forevermore. make it a sex thing or a morals thing or a community thing: creating food from scratch is one of the kindest things we can do for eachother. when i was in san diego molly would go and put coffee on every morning whilst i styled my hair (takes forever). it was the incest coffee brand. you know the one. but i really liked that she just knew to do that. it just fits together. everything just fits together. cook your trans girlfriend or your trans girl friend or your trans girlfriend's girlfriend something nice someday
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luveline · 1 month
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If you're taking request for Spencer and Bombshell!reader I think it would be so incredibly adorable if they were both on the way to a case (or coming back) and their little baby Amanda was face timing them to say hi to them and the team 🥺🥺
“Video call for you, momma,” Penelope says, plonking a laptop down onto the desk in front of you, and then quickly being called away by Emily for help.
You ditch your pen immediately, nail scratching the laptop trackpad as you slide the cursor to ACCEPT. 
Amanda’s face fills the screen, a shy smile like her dad’s close to the camera, her eyes almost cut off by the top of the screen. 
“Amy, babe, you’re too close to the computer! I can’t see your lovely face.” 
Amy sits back in her chair. “Is this okay?” 
You take her in. You trust your babysitter to take good care of her, but nothing is as reassuring as seeing her unhurt and smiling. “Hi, baby.” 
“Hi mommy,” she greets. “Where’s daddy?” 
“He’s in the bathroom. Be back any minute. Are you being a good girl for Mrs. Gamorrah? How’s your tummy?” 
“I’m being good,” she says, ignoring the important question, “did you see my t-shirt?” She brings her shirt closer to the camera. She’s wearing her favourite pyjamas with the butterflies she had for her birthday, “Look, Mrs. Gamorrah got the soup stain gone.” 
You beam at her. You miss her like crazy when you’re not there. You and Spencer take turns staying home most of the time, and so being apart from her and knowing she doesn’t have Spencer to soften your absence makes it easier to worry about her, and harder to concentrate on the work. 
The door opens. You twist your head. 
Spencer’s drying his hands on a paper towel. “Is that Amy?” 
“Quick, she wants to see you.” 
Spencer hurries to the laptop, bending at the waist to see the screen and his impatient daughter. 
“Amy!” he says, like she’s the only person he’s ever wanted to see, voice enthused with his most dad-appropriate saccharine. “Hi, bunny, hi, hello. I miss you so much, are you okay? I miss you.” 
You tap his leg gently. Calm down. 
“Daddy, I am so happy, and I miss you too! We’re doing pictures.” She holds up a sheet of paper covered in crayon drawings. “Are you okay too?” 
“I’m great now I’m seeing you. I really miss you, sweetheart, I’m sorry we’re both away at work.” 
“It’s okay. Me and Mrs. Gamorrah are gonna have pizza and jiffy pop and soda tonight. It would be good with you, but it’s still fun.” 
“That’s good,” you say, putting your hand on the keys, wishing you could feel her soft arm in your hand, stroke her silken forehead. “We’re gonna be home soon. Maybe even tomorrow.” 
Spencer wraps his arm behind your shoulder. “Me and mom miss you so so much, and we’re so proud of you being a good girl at home. We’re gonna bring you a big present for being by yourself.” 
“I’m not by myself, dad, I have Mrs. Gamorrah. Plus, Uncle Morgan said he wants to take me and Hank swimming on Sunday.” 
“I’m sure we’ll be home before Sunday.” You smother your frown. Spencer kisses your cheek. 
“Give one for me, dad!” 
Spencer kisses you again. “That one good enough?” he asks. 
“Another one!” 
When you get home, you’re gonna spoil the death out of her. Like, worse than you’ve ever spoiled her before. Spencer presses another great kiss to your cheek and smushes your faces together, Amy on the screen reaching for you both for a ghost hug. “I wanted to say hi before we go to the store. Can I call you again before bed?” 
“Yeah, baby, call again!” You rush to answer. “Call daddy’s phone, okay? Mine’s not working right. I’ll answer you, we’ll talk all about your day. Okay? I miss you very much.” 
“I miss you too. Bye bye.” 
“Okay, bye bye,” you say, “I love you.” 
“Love you, Amanda,” Spencer says. 
She waves her little hand until it looks like it might fall off of her wrist. Spencer waves back just as hard.
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samandcolbyownme · 4 months
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Summary: Your work trip ended early but you haven't told anyone but your one friend, who subtly plans a last minute get together as a way for you to surprise your boyfriend, Jake who can't stand being away from you any longer.
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, hair pulling, choking, biting, oral (f rec), scratching, unprotected rough but sensual sex, general filth
Word count: 3.4k | not edited & not a request
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
"My flight lands at five.." you speak into the phone, "Then it's an hour to your house from the airport, so I would say have them come over by six thirty? Seven maybe?"
"It feels like months since I've seen you." Kat laughs, "I know Jake is itching to get his hands on you."
"You haven't told him that I'm coming home have you?" You sit up slightly.
"No, I haven't told anyone. I promise." She assures you and you sigh, "Okay. Good. I want to make a dramatic entrance."
"I know, that's why I haven't. You know damn well if Jake knew you were coming home early, he'd be at the airport right now waiting for you."
You smile, nodding to yourself, "Oh I know he would. He thinks I'm in a meeting right now. I feel bad lying to him but.." you shrug and Kat laughs, "I'm sure he'll understand when you walk through my door later on tonight."
"I'm thinking we play it off as I'm the pizza person, you can say you're ordering pizza.. you call me instead and have Jake answer the door?" You bite your lip, thinking about seeing him for the first time in almost three weeks.
"That's perfect. Oh.. Sam is coming. Gotta go. Love you!" Kat says and you smile, "See you soon. Love you."
You take a deep breath, seeing a message from Jake that you can't answer because you want to keep the jig up, hurts. You want nothing more than to tell him, but you know it'll be a better surprise if you hold on to being the pizza delivery person.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You had twenty minutes until you were at Kat's house, and you were getting anxious because you were so excited.
You kept picturing seeing Jake. His smile when he first sees you. His arms wrapping around you tight. You were also, at this point, getting antsy.
You had to repeatedly fight the urge to tell the Uber driver to step on it. Go faster. Do anything to get you there before your actual arrival time.
You glance down at your phone, seeing a message from Kat, Everyone is finally here. I already told them I ordered the pizza.. How much longer??
You glance up at the gps screen, looking back down at your phone to type, Ten minutes. I'm actually kind of shaking, Kat. Is Jake in a good mood? I haven't answered him in a while.
You tap the side of your phone, waiting for her reply to pop up, He keeps saying it's not the same without you. I keep telling him that you'll be home in a few days and we can party it up when you get home.
You laugh quietly, thank you for doing this. I'm sure it's not easy keeping a secret like this. You're a real one.
You rest your phone down, bouncing your leg as you watch the arrival time go down minute by minute.
"Can we park a little bit down the street? I'm surprising people and I don't want them seeing a car pulling up outside the house." You explain to the driver and he's all for it, "Of course! I love a good surprise reunion."
He stops down the street and you get out, taking your suitcase with you, "Thank you so, so much!"
"Have a good night!" He smile with a nod and drives off. You pull out your phone, texting Kat, I just got dropped off down the street. I can see your house now.
As you walk up to the house, the windows are open so you can hear the chatter of everyone inside. You bring your hand up, pressing the little white button to ring the door bell.
"Jake, go get the pizza." Kat demands, "Please."
"Why do I have to go get it?" Jake argues and you can't help but smile. Kat raises her voice, "Just go get the damn pizza, Jake!"
He huffs, "I don't know why I have to be the one to go get the fu-" the door opens and he stops talking.
He stands there in shock as you smile and laugh, "Hi, baby."
He lunges to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close as he lifts you off the ground, "No fucking way." He leans his head back, eyes scanning over your face as he smiles, "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"I finished work early and there was no meeting today. I was catching flights." You wrap your arms around his neck tighter, "I wanted to surprise you."
"Well you succeeded because boy am I shocked." He laughs, burrowing his face into your neck.
"I've never seen Jake act like that with a pizza delivery guy." You hear someone say and Johnnie speaks up, "I have."
You laugh and Jake sets you down, "I'm.." he laughs and shakes his head as he cups your cheeks, "wow."
You smile and pull him in for a kiss, "I've missed you so much."
"I've missed you more than anything. You have no idea." He kisses all over your face and you laugh. He slings his arm around your shoulder, "Come on."
He walks you in the house and everyone shouts different things of surprise.
"Oh my god!"
"Y/n!"
"No fucking way!"
"Welcome home!"
You smile, "Hey guys." You looking Kat and she runs over to you, "My turn." She hugs you and you hug her, "Hello to you, too."
You laugh and rub her back and Jake sighs, "Okay. Okay. Last time I checked, she was my girlfriend."
Kat leans back, looking at him, "I knew her first, Jake. But fine.. I have to go call in the pizza anyway."
Jake scoffs and groans, "Kat! You said you already did that."
"Would you rather have had pizza or y/n?" Kat raises a brow and Jake snaps and points to you, "Y/n of course." Kat smirks, "That's what I thought."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You're sitting on Jake's lap, twirling a piece of his hair as you stare at him, "Two weeks was enough." He nods, tilting his head into your hand, "i wish you would have told me. I would have came and got you."
You smile, "I know.. but I wanted to have a moment, you know?"
He chuckles, "Yeah, no. I get it." He turns his head, kissing your palm, "Can't wait to get you home, though." He raises his eyebrows and moves you off of his lap.
You scoff, "Hey. Hey!"
He looks back at you with a smile as he walks over to get a drink. You keep your eyes on him until Kat comes over, stealing his spot, "Okay, so I have to know.. what was Milan like?"
"Oh my god. It was absolutely beautiful. You would have died." You take your phone out, clicking on your pictures to show her.
Each picture is followed by a quiet, "Oh my gosh."
You smirk, "We're going back. I need to take you."
She lays a hand over her heart, "Oh y/n. I love you." You smile, "if I could have brought you with I would have. But I love you, too!"
Your phone vibrates and you internally groan as you hope it's not work. You look at it and do a double take as you see it's a text from Jake, Been absolutely craving you since the night you left.
You look up, searching for him. Your eyes widen when you see him leaning against the counter, phone in hand staring at you.
Another text comes through, Let my tongue explain how bad I crave you, baby.
You swallow, and tilt your head as you look up at Jake. You feel a hand on your arm, "What is going on? Are you and Jake having another moment?"
You look over at Kat, "Uh, yeah." You clear your throat and cross your leg, "You could say that." You smirk slightly and she shakes her head, "Girl, just go home with him already! You two deserve it."
"You won't be mad?" You pout slightly and she laughs, "Get out of here already."
You stand up, walking over to Jake who looks at you with an innocent smile, "Hello my lovely girlfriend."
"Don't start pretending that you didn't just-"
"Just what? Hmm?" He sticks his tongue out, quickly wetting his lips and your eyes flick from them to his eyes, "Just take me home so your tongue can explain what you texted me."
He raises his brows, "Well, if you insist." He winks and sets his cup down, shoving his phone in his back pocket, "M'lady." He holds his arm out and you laugh, "you're so weird."
"But you love me." He glances at you and you nod, "I sure do." You walk into where everything is and you wave, "Bye guys."
"Leaving already?" Sam asks as he looks up at you and Jake. You nod, "Yeah, I've flew on three different planes today. Jet lag, you know."
Johnnie laughs, "Nah, they're going home to bone!"
Jake does finger guns to him and nods, "You are so right, my boy." You pat Jake's chest and scoff while trying not to laugh, "Jake. Oh my god."
"Have fuuuun!" Kat yells, "And be safe!"
"Safe? What's the fun in that?" Jake jokes and you pull him with you to the door, "Let's go. Before you embarrass me some more." Jake laughs and grabs your suitcase before walking out with you.
"Come on, y/n. You know I had to have a little fun before we dipped." Jake smirks at you as he slides your suite case into the backseat. You roll your eyes, "I know. But I just want to get home."
You go to open the car door but Jake's hand slides under yours, "I know you probably haven't had anyone open your car doors the last two weeks, but you're home now. So that mean.." he opens your door, "I do." 
You giggle as you get in, staring up at him with a smile on your face. 
You were glad to be home. 
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
The drive home was simple. You filled him in on the stuff he didn't know, which wasn't much considering you talked to him every chance you could. His hand holding yours like he isn't going to let go again, thumb dragging gently over your skin. 
You soaked up the sweet moment, because you knew as soon as you got back to your shared apartment, there wasn't going to be anything sweet about it. 
Jake missed you and he was going to show you just how much he did. 
"Alright. Home sweet home." Jake smirks as he puts the car in park, "Ready?" 
You look over at him, "I've been ready since I knew I was coming home today." He smirks, nodding, "Yeah. I can imagine." He bites his lower lip, "Come on, then." He gets out and you wait patiently for him to walk around and open your door. 
"What a good girl." He jokes, but that just made you want him more. You get out, hands immediately going to the sides of his neck as you push your body against his.
His hands lay on your waist and he spins to pin you up against the car. He kisses down your neck and you tilt your head back, moaning quietly as he bites down onto your skin.
You tilt your head back up, laying your hands flat on his chest, “Let’s go inside.” You breathe out, “It’ll be better.”
“Yeah it will.” He grabs your hand, pushing the door shut as he walks you up the steps to your door. He quickly unlocks it, pushing it open before pulling you infront of him.
His hands lay on your hips as he guides you backwards into the dark house. You reach over, flipping the switch as he closes the door.
“C’mere.” He bends down slightly, grabbing the back of your thighs and catching you as you jump. Your legs wrap around his waist and your hands go back to the sides of his neck.
Your lips meet his, moving in a quick, yet beautiful sync. Your back meets the couch as he lays you down.
His hands move to untie your sweats and he was thanking you mentally for wearing something easy for him to get into it.
“You’re going to taste so good.” He mumbles as he kisses back your jaw line, “Been thinking about you so much lately.”
“I’m home now.” You smile, gasping as he sucks a well deserved mark into the skin of your neck. Your hand moves up to lay on the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair as he works his way down.
His hands move up to push your shirt up, fingers gently dragging up and down your torso, “Sit on my face.”
You bit your lip, looking up at him as he leans back, “Please.”
You nod, “okay.” You go to get up but he stops you, making you lay back down so he can remove your sweats and panties, “Let me get these off for you.”
He smirks as he pulls down your sweats, discarding them to the floor before sliding his hands up your legs, “And these.” He glances up at you then back down as he reveals your soaked pussy.
His lip pulls between his teeth and he lets out a sigh through his nose, “Yeah.” He smirks up at you, “I can’t wait any longer.”
He pulls you up by your hands, taking your place on the couch, “Come on, baby.” He wiggles his fingers, indicating he wants you to straddle his head.
You move up next to him, grabbing the back of the couch as you swing your leg over. He licks his lips, eyes on the prize as his hands slide up to grip your hips.
You lower yourself down, instantly moaning as you feel his tongue slip into you.
The sucking and slurping of your pussy sends you into a frenzy. You felt like it was forever since Jake was between your legs, usually it’s every other night or so.
Your nails dig into the couch as your other one tangles into his dark hair, “F-fuck.. fuck..” you fight to not squeeze your thighs shut, “Yes.. y-yes..”
Your head falls back, eye squeezing shut as he brings you to your first needed orgasm.
His tongue doesn’t stop. His nose bumps your clit at the right angle, sending more of a pleasured sensation through your body.
Your legs are shaking, your hips buck as he pulls you down onto him more, “J-Jake.. baby..” you moan loudly, panting as he brings you through your high.
He lifts your hips, looking up at you with a smile, “You like that?”
You look down at him with a smirk, “Yeah.. maybe a little.” You bite your lip as you go to get off, but he pulls you back down, “Gotta make you like it a lot.”
His tongue is back to work and you moan, tugging his hair as you grind your hips down onto his face, “Shit.. shit..”
He slides his hand over, rubbing circles onto your clit as his tongue laps on your folds.
You quickly take off your shirt, revealing your bare chest. His eyes widen at the sight and he slides his other hand up to toy with one of your nipples.
Your brain goes fuzzy, moaning as you knead your other boob with your own hand, “Fuuuck.” You moan, whispering at the pinching of your nipple, “Gonna cum..”
The pressure on your clit hardens at your words and your hand goes back to gripping the back of the couch, moaning and whimpering as he brings you to another orgasm.
Your legs shake around his head and you gasp, “Jake.. Jake..” you lean back slightly and he pulls away, “How was that?”
“That was fucking fantastic.” You smile as you look down at him, chest rising and falling rapidly, “Now fuck me like that.”
He raises his eyebrows and nods, “Say no more.”
You move off of him, taking your original spot back. You watch as he strips down, eyes grazing over the tattoos you love so much.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much.” You lay your hands on his shoulders as he moves his body to hover over yours.
His one arm hooks under your thigh and pushes it back, “I’ve missed you more, babe.” You stare up at him as the tip of his cock rubs against your slick opening.
Your lips part as he slips in. Your moans being cut up by his lips closing the space. His thrusts are slow at first, soaking up the feeling of you finally being home.
Your arm wraps around his neck as your back arches, pressing your chest to his, “You make me feel so good.” You whisper in between kisses, “So.. fucking.. good baby.”
He smirks, groaning as he nods, “You always feel so good to me.” He pushes his hips in, bottoming out so you can feel every inch of him, “I want you to know how much I missed you.”
You gasp as he pushes hard, grinding his hips slowly against yours. You lick your lips, moving your hips to try and get more, “I know you missed me.”
He rests his forehead against yours as he pulls out, thrusting back in, and repeating his actions a few times before picking up the pace.
He slides his free hand up your side, resting his elbow by your head. His other hand grips the inside of your thigh that his arm is wrapped around.
“Cum for me.” His words are deep sounding as he brushes hair from your face, “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”
His lips kiss up and down your neck, over your collar bone to the other side, “You’re gonna make me cum.”
You tilt your head back, moaning as he thrusts into you, “A-lmost there..” you whimper, “Fuck.”
His hand slides into your hair, tilting your head back so he can kiss under your jaw. You squeeze his cock, moaning as you move your hips to meet his, “yesyesyes!”
Your back arches as you cum. Jake wraps his lips around your nipple, gently biting down and sucking as your eyes roll back.
Your legs wrap right around his waist as he fucks you through the high, causing you to become a whimpering, moaning mess under him.
“That’s my girl.” He whispers into your ear as you settle down, “So fucking good.” He tilts your head up so he can meet his lips with yours.
Your hands slide into his hair, holding him to you as he swallows your moans, “Cum in me.” He nods, “Yeah?”
You nod, “Yes..” you feel his thrusts get sloppy, “Please baby..”
He buries his face into your neck as he moans lowly, “Fucking hell.” You drag your nails up his back, digging them into his shoulders to leave little crescent marks in his skin.
He groans as you repeat the process, moaning along with him as you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
He relaxes his body on top of yours and lets out a sigh, “That was the best welcome home I’ve ever gotten and I wasn’t even the one who came home.”
He laughs as he leans up, reaching over to grab his shirt to clean you up with. You smile and nod, “I should go away more often.”
He instantly glares at you, “No.”
“No? What do you mean no?” You laugh as you sit up and he leans in, “You cant leave me again. I was like a lost puppy without you.”
You smirk, “But you had Johnnie.”
“I can’t have sex with Johnnie.” Jake tries not to laugh but inevitably fails and you shrug, “I mean…”
“Don’t even, y/n.” Jake laughs and leans in, pecking your lips quickly, “I’ve missed you being mean to me.” You scoff, “That wasn’t mean.”
He fake pouts, “Well my feelings are.. hurt.”
“Awe. Do I need to make it up to you?” You fake pout back and lean in, “I’m sorry.” Jake runs a hand over your head, “You know what.. I think you do..”
“Can it be in the shower?” You raise your brows, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.
He presses a kiss to your forehead, “it can be anywhere you want it to be.”
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
I’m suuuuper proud of this one. Let me know what you think! Love yas!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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Toxic!Rafe and toxic!reader, where they’re fighting because he wants to go out to a strip bar with Topper and Kelce which reader hates (she thinks they encourage his bad behavior) after she told him no. so when reader goes on insta to look at Rafes story and sees he lied and went anyways after seeing a pic of him in the sniffers row at the bar, she gets all crazy and starts responding to the story with full paragraphs 😭 and so when he starts replying she blocks him mid argument, and he goes home and yells at her until they get all lovey dovey again 🥰 (sorry this is long)
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warnings: toxic relationship (?), slight humor, cussing, lying, crying, shouting, arguing, mentions of sex, a little plot twist at the end
“..i don’t know about that, man. y/n has a bitch fit everytime i go somewhere without her, i highly doubt she’d be okay with me going there of all places.” you stood outside your bedroom door, rolling your eyes at the sound of topper’s voice. “who cares what she says? she’s not your fuckin’ mommy, bro.” you suppressed a laugh, knowing rafe has called you ‘mommy’ a numerous amount of times. your boyfriend sighed, staying silent for a moment. “look, i’ll ask her alright? if she says no then i ain’t going.” you smiled to yourself, walking into the room with a fresh stack of t-shirts in your hands.
“here she is now, i’ll call you back.” you placed the folded laundry on top of the dresser. “tell the spawn of satan herself we say hello!” kelce shouted in the background. “aww is that dumb and dumber on the phone? hey, guys!” rafe shook his head, a laugh tumbling out of his throat. he hung up the call, getting up to wrap his arms around your waist. you leaned into him, breathing in his cologne as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “listen, uh, topper and kelce are inviting me out tonight, ‘wanted to know if i can join them..” you arched a brow, turning around in his hold.
“and where do y’all plan on going?” rafe cleared his throat awkwardly. “well.. you know how the guys are, they always wanna go to some new place..” he trailed off, clearly stalling as much as he could. “just say it, rafe.” he swallowed nervously. “a strip club.” suddenly his hands felt tense on your skin, and he couldn’t hold your stare. “a strip club?” you repeated, pulling away from him. “that’s cute, but no.” rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, immediately taking out his phone.
[4:30 PM] to: topper, kelce: i’m in, pick me up at nine.
“what are you doing?” you eyed him as he brought the phone up to his ear, walking around to the other side of the bed. “m’telling them i can’t go, because you’re gonna be all pissed off if i do.” you scoffed, eyeing him carefully. rafe cursed under his breath, praying to god you couldn’t tell he wasn’t actually calling anyone. “hey, bro. i can’t go, it’s a hard no.” he scratched the back of his neck. “yeah, i know. maybe another time- wait, where?” rafe stopped pacing, nodding along to his own imagination. “pizza and beer? that sounds good. nine o’clock? alright i’ll see y’all then.” he shrugged as he pretended to hang up.
“alright, no strip club, but charlie’s pizza instead, is that alright?” you nodded. “that’s fine, but you better text me.” he jumped up, pulling you into a hug that ended with you two falling in bed. “i mean it rafe, i want pizza pictures and everything!” he showered you with kisses, taking his time when he got to your lips. you two stayed like that for a few minutes, making out softly before you pulled away. “you should start getting ready before i get too horny, ‘cause then i really won’t let you go anywhere.” you ran your thumb over his bottom lip, sighing when he got up. “good call.” he laughed, getting an outfit ready for tonight.
nine o’clock rolled around faster than you wanted it to, and sure enough topper and kelce were outside honking like maniacs once they pulled up. “i love you, baby, i’m gonna text you in a bit.” you smiled, watching him holler all the way down to where topper and kelce practically tackled him. “we promise to have him home no later than one, mommy dearest!” you gave kelce the middle finger, shutting the door once rafe blew you a kiss. now that you had the house to yourself you figured you’d shower and unwind, maybe finish the book you had been reading. all was well until you glanced at the time on your phone. 10:45 PM, and still no word from rafe.
you opened instagram, spotting the green circle around your boyfriend’s profile picture, indicating he had posted on his close friends. you clicked on it, your heart dropping at the video of rafe throwing money at a stripper’s ass. “front row seats, baby!” he cheered. just as you thought it couldn’t get any worse, the next story was a photo of a blonde sitting in rafe’s lap, topless and smiling from ear to ear. “this motherfucker..” you closed the app, deciding you saw enough before opening you and rafe’s text thread on imessage.
[10:55 PM] - i don’t know what’s funnier; the fact that you had a whole conversation with yourself in front of me to make it sound like you were just getting pizza and beer with your dickhead friends, or forgetting to take me off your close friends list when you want to post yourself at some sleazy ass strip club. you’re a fucking joke.
rafe had never sobered up so fast in his life, all the blood draining from his face when he read your message. “fuck!” he cursed at himself, his head resting in his hands.
[11:10 PM] my <333: baby i promise i’ll explain everything, i’m telling the guys to take me home right now.
[11:15 PM] - there’s nothing you could say that’ll ‘explain’ what the fuck you did. you sat there in my face and kissed me and reassured me when you were getting your way all along. can you even comprehend how fucked up that is? you made me look stupid in front of your friends who already don’t like me. AND THE TOPLESS PICTURE???? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE???? if i posted a picture with my tits all in jj’s face, how would you feel? we both know he’s one phone call away if i really wanted him.
rafe’s blood was boiling after he read your message, knowing that you could leave him and have someone as desperate and lovesick as jj replace him in a heartbeat. “bro don’t sweat it, man. she’ll get over it.” topper slurred, entering figure eight again. “shut the fuck up, you don’t know the first thing about being in a relationship.” rafe shot back, clenching his fists when the message he tried to send turned green. topper didn’t respond, the rest of the ride home being dead silent.
rafe didn’t even say bye to kelce or topper when they arrived at tanneyhill, instead he rushed inside, eyes immediately falling to you resting on the couch. you were wearing your pink, fluffy robe, rollers adorning your hair while you were typing something on your ipad. “babe-” rafe shut the door, falling to his knees before you. “don’t get near me. you probably smell disgusting.” rafe’s jaw ticked, his patience already running low. “i’m so fucking sorry, y/n. i shouldn’t have lied to you, baby. i promise i’ll never do that again.” you finally looked at him, his bangs falling in his face.
“i know,” you sighed, “you don’t have to worry about me doing anything either.” you got up, attempting to walk past him before he grabbed your leg. “what are you talking about?” you knew rafe well enough to know when he was getting angry, and the way he was looking at you right now only confirmed your suspicions. “you don’t get to do what you did and think it’s all going to be fine and dandy with an apology, rafe. i’m leaving for my parents tomorrow, and don’t ask me when i’m coming back because i don’t know. i don’t think i can live with a liar.” you shoved him away, only making him grab you again, this time throwing you down on the couch.
“you don’t think you could live with a liar?” he narrowed his eyes, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. “has it ever occurred to you that i wouldn’t have to lie to you if you would just not freak the fuck out everytime i want to go out and have fun?” you couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “you’re one to talk!” you screamed in his face, making him stand up. you followed suit, refusing to let him make you feel powerless. “you wanna act like you’re trapped here? fine! play the victim, but don’t forget everything you do to keep me from going out too.” you were pacing back and forth now, running your fingers through your hair.
“you literally slashed my friend’s tires to keep me from going to her birthday party, and all for what? because you found out other guys were going to be there?” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “i paid for the damages, y/n…” he groaned. “so?! it’s the principal! you do the most when it comes to me wanting to go somewhere, but me telling you not to go to a literal strip club is where you draw the line?? fuck you!” you started making your way upstairs, rafe right on your tail as you did so.
“fuck me?! i’m the one who takes care of you! there’s nothing in this world that you want and don’t have! i take you on regular vacations, i take you out damn near everyday, i keep you in all the newest shit, i pay for you and all your friend’s beauty appointments so that y’all could have a girl’s day twice a month, you just have no fucking clue!” he shouted, making you stop in your tracks. you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, breaking his heart in two.
“and what about everything i do for you?” you let out a shaky breath. “i’m what makes this house a home. i wear the clothes you want me to wear, i eat the food you want me to eat, i talk the way you want me to talk. i’m here when all else fails. i’m the one who holds you and comforts you when things get hard for you. i’m the one who makes sure you never feel alone, ‘makes sure you don’t go through anything alone. i do everything you say. on the days you work long and hard, i’m right here waiting for you with my legs open. on the days that you’re particularly tired, i’ll be on my knees, i’ll ride you and do all the work, and i’ll do everything happily because i love you.” rafe was crying with you by the time you finished speaking, both of you standing in the hallway.
“i get up at the ass crack of dawn and doll myself up everyday because i want to look good for you, i want to please you with everything i do. when we go to the country club, i speak of you in the highest regards, and i do it because i want everyone to know that i respect you. i do all of this, and i do it all without the commitment of having a fucking ring on my finger. if that doesn’t speak volumes for you, then i don’t know what does.” you walked inside your shared bedroom, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. he dropped to his knees once again, hugging your waist like you’d disappear if he let go. “we need each other. i need you.” he cried. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him up off the floor.
“i love you, y/n. please, you can’t leave.” you cupped his face. “i haven’t seen my parents in almost six months, rafe. i have to..” he nodded slowly, taking your hand in his. “then we’ll go together. ‘tell them we have a special announcement.” you watched him with a confused expression as he went to grab a small box out the bottom drawer of the bedside table. “rafe!” you gasped, hands flying up to cover your mouth. “i’ve had this for a while now, i don’t know what i was waiting for, but i want to do this now.” he opened the box, the biggest diamond you’ve ever seen lighting up your eyes.
“i know we have to work on some things, but there’s no one else i’d rather do this with.” you gazed into his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips. “okay, let’s do it.”
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
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best years * fem!driver
growing up in a predominantly male environment, she only ever had two friends she could count on. this is what it was like growing up with oscar and logan.
pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver
warnings: -
notes: this was so hard to write for no reason
(series masterlist) | (📂 pre-formula 1)
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2013
she leans against the wall behind her, fingers nervously picking at the skin around her nails. she’s the only girl in yet another karting race.
around her are countless boys excitedly greeting their friends, some of whom they have not seen in months from the long break. they would only spare her a quick glance before forming their own circles and talking amongst themselves.
she simply sighs and fishes for her phone in her back pocket. she will just pretend to text blythe, who is all the way back home, hours from where she is.
sure, she had plenty of girl friends from karting when she was growing up. but amidst puberty and coming into their own, her friends had simply moved on to other hobbies and interests — one that didn’t involve pouring your heart and soul onto the race track.
so there she stands, all by herself in the corner.
she feels a presence next to her, prompting her to lift her head. there stands a boy with sandy brown hair and his arms folded over his chest. who she will come to later know as oscar. but not just yet.
beside him is another boy, bright blue eyes with dirty blonde hair. they’re engaged in a conversation, paying no mind to the girl sending several messages to her younger sister without a response.
“okay, gather up, please!”
she would wind up making it into the top 30 that race.
“hey, you made it into top 30!” her mother engulfs her in a tight hug and sways side by side. “i’m so proud of you! you did so well!”
“thank you,” she giggles, pulling back slightly to catch some air. her hand reaches around the older woman’s body to wipe the sweat from her top lip. “are we still getting pizza after this?”
her father laughs, throwing his head back. “you never forget a promise, kid.”
“of course!” she cheers, jumping up as she claps her hands. “can i get a hawaiian pizza?”
“absolutely,” her mother beams, squeezing her on the chin followed by another hug.
she sighs and throws her head back, appreciating the sun that barely burns her skin. she scratches her head and gathers up her hair to pull it into a ponytail.
looking around, she locks eyes with somebody — the same boy from earlier with the sandy brown hair. he’s got the most charming smile, sending it her way along with a thumbs up.
blood rushes to her cheeks as she returns him a thumbs up and a courteous nod.
then he turns away, whisked away by his parents.
2014
“you’re only saying that cause i beat you on the track again,” she answers nonchalantly with an eyeroll. she folds her arms over her chest, scanning the boy head to toe. “it’s okay to lose to girls sometimes. it’s rare, i know, yet here i am.”
“an absolute fluke,” the boy scoffs at her, cheeks red in frustration and fists clenched by his side. “my dad says there’s no space for girls on the racetrack.”
“oh, really? say that to my top 10 finish and you barely making the cut,” she spits, anger lacing every word. “loser.”
his jaw drops. “hey, take that back!”
“bite me,” she grins, “you loser.”
his arm is barely able to land a hit on her shoulder when he stumbles back, a bigger figure blocking her from the frustrated kid. she barely flinched, now shocked at the something that separated her from a minor injury.
“hey, piss off, will you?”
“whatever, dude.”
her saving grace turns around, a small welcoming smile on his face. it’s someone she recognises — slowly becoming a familiar face for her every time she’s on for a karting race. “are you alright?”
she huffs, her fists now clenched by her side. “i had that covered. i didn’t need your help.”
he gives her a tired stare, obviously not biting into her words to be edged towards an apology. he just smiles again. “i know, but i thought i’d end it before a fight happened.”
“what if that’s exactly what i wanted?” she asks, an eyebrow raised as her hands rests on her hips. “you don’t know that.”
“don’t bother,” he chuckles, glancing at the ground before lifting his head to look at her again. “‘grats on the top 10 finish today.”
she narrows her eyes down. “thank you.”
“oscar, by the way,” he says again, hand stretched out toward her.
“(y/n),” she nods at him with a forced smile. she drops both of their hands. “you’re tough to race, oscar. sometimes i just wanna crash into you with my kart.”
“i get that a lot, thank you,” he grins. he points behind her, prompting her to turn around. “the blonde over there’s my friend. that’s logan.”
she nods. “i’ve seen you guys together a couple of times.”
“we go to school together.” oscar pauses. “hey, logan! come over here!”
the blonde, logan, whirls around and jogs over to them without a question. he approaches them with a grin. “oh, hey! you’re the one that passed me earlier! you’re quick.”
“thank you, i like making boys cry.”
“i never said you made me cry.”
“you may as well have.”
“maybe next race if you can do it again.”
“oh, i’ll bet on that!” she grins, giving him a knowing stare.
logan smiles down at her. “we’re going to get pizza after this. do you want to join oscar and i?”
and the rest is history, as they say.
2015
"get off your homework, man," she groans, dragging her feet to where oscar sits on her table. she shakes the boy lightly, but not enough to mess up what he's writing, and pops her head to his side. "i'm itching to go get ice cream."
"let me finish my homework. my mum will kill me," oscar sighs, attempting to wave off the girl from him. "give me like 15 more minutes."
"you said that 1 hour ago," logan says, words muffled by the pillow he's got his face smushed up against. "i'm hungry, dude."
a knock lands on the door before it creaks open, turning the heads of two of three people who rest in her bedroom.
"dalton, dude!" logan grins, patting the empty spot on the bed next to him. "you're home! how was school?"
"i learned math today," the young boy excitedly answers, running over to the american with a giddy grin on his face. he jumps onto the bed, only to be promptly pulled away by his older sister.
"i told you to learn how to knock, dalton," she says in a tired voice. "and take off your shoes before coming into my room. remember?"
dalton looks up at her, wide eyes and lips parted as he tries to remember her words. he nods, bending down to tear off the velcro from his shoes. "i'm sorry, (y/n)."
"that's okay," she smiles, patting his head. "just don't do it again, okay?"
he nods, before hurriedly jumping onto the bed. this time, logan has the blankets up before engulfing the small kid under it with a bear hug. "what kind of math did you learn today?"
"addition," dalton mutters. he turns to look at oscar, who has yet to acknowledge his presence. "oscar."
"hi, dalton," he mutters, head resting in his palm as he focuses on the paper in front of him. "give me a minute, kid. i'll talk to you later, okay?"
"not okay," dalton huffs, arms folded over his chest. he leans into logan's knees and drops his head on the mattress. "i'm hungry, (y/n)."
she grins. "we've got to wait for oscar to finish his homework before we can go get food."
oscar sighs. he drops his pen on the table, turning around to face the room. "i guess i can take a break."
he gives her a knowing grin, rolling his eyes when she proudly smiles at him. he's always had a soft spot for dalton, the small boy filling up the sibling-shaped hole in his heart. "what do you feel like having, kid? ice cream?"
the young boy jumps on logan, prompting the loudest yelp to pass his lips. his arms wrap around dalton as they roll off the bed. logan launches him in the air and catches him immediately, a loud giggle bouncing off the walls of the girl's bedroom.
"i want spaghetti!" dalton cheers. "but you have to make it for us, oscar!"
oscar sighs again. he drops his head. "okay, i'll make some spaghetti."
2016
"happy birthday, (y/n)!" the door swings open, hitting the wall with a thud.
immediately, the girl shoots up from her bed, hair a mess with both of her eyes still closed. "man, what the fuck!"
she rubs her eyes, only to be met by the smug grins of her friends as they saunter into her bedroom with cake in logan's hands and two wrapped boxes in oscar's.
"we said happy birthday," logan says through gritted teeth, "say thank you."
"what time is it?" she groans, pulling the blanket up to her stomach. "isn't it a little too early for you to be terrorising me?"
"1pm is not early," oscar shakes his head in disappointment. "i texted you to be ready by 1! we're catching a movie, remember? we're supposed to go catch mockingjay in theatres."
she frowns. "i'm sorry. i went out with my girls last night," she explains, slowly moving to the edge of her bed. "i can be ready in 15 minutes."
logan holds the cake to her face. "enough yapping. the candle's about 5 seconds from merging with the cake i spent so hard to find," he sighs. "make a wish, scrub."
she looks up at them, daggers thrown just through her glare. she blows out the flame as her two friends cheer softly for her, oscar clapping before patting her shoulder. "okay, let's go catch our movie."
she holds her hands out to the boxes in his hands. "presents first."
2017
"hey, where are you?" oscar's face fills up her phone screen, eyebrows furrowed as he navigates the crowd in the mall. "are you not coming early for the race?"
she bites down on her lip and looks down, briefly avoiding oscar's stare. "i'll still be coming. just not so soon."
"what?" oscar's voice squeaks in disbelief, truly not believing what he's hearing from his friend. "but we always get ice cream before the race. why didn't you tell us you were ditching?"
"it was last minute, i'm sorry," she frowns, glancing at the boy standing next to her. "i'll just see you guys there."
oscar's face immediately drops. "oh, you're with your boyfriend?"
she rolls her eyes. "yes, but i'll still be there for the race. what's the big deal?"
oscar shrugs. "nothing, mate. i'll just see you on the track, (y/n)."
"hey, what is your problem?" she calls out, head tilting at his sudden coldness. "i've got other people to be with besides you and logan, you know. i have other friends too."
"friends, maybe i understand. but this guy?" he chuckles, rubbing his chin as he tries to sympathise with her. he really tries, but it's difficult when the older boy has made his best friend's life miserable in the past 3 months and she's done is defend him.
"mate, come on. be serious. he won't stick around forever - he's a guy."
"you're a guy."
"and i've never ditched you for a girl, have i?"
"i'd understand if you did."
"well, i'm not flakey," oscar spits at her, glaring at her through the camera on his phone. "i'll see you later."
his face disappears, the home screen of her phone now the only thing staring at her with the silence in her living room. she sighs and drops her phone onto the couch next to her.
"you alright, babe?"
she nods weakly, but her heart races in her chest. she's always been very headstrong and stubborn with oscar, but this was the first time he's ever shown a sign of frustration with her.
as deadpan as he usually is, her chest weighs down on the implication this young relationship could have on a friendship that's been going on for years.
"yeah, i'm fine."
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"it sucks, i know," logan sighs, patting her head. he's leaned back against the wall, sitting up as she cried into his chest. "we're only 16 - this won't be the last guy you'll be with."
this only made the girl cry harder into his chest. truthfully, he's got no idea what to do. comforting crying people has never been his forte; being more on the sensitive end himself.
"i'll beat him up, though, if you'd like," logan offers lightheartedly. this is progress, at least, cause it made her giggle for a second before she resumed her sobs. "i can take him in a fight."
"don't do that," she laughs through her tears, "yet."
"i'll even take oscar with me."
"no... oscar's mad at me."
"he's not mad at you, (y/n)."
"but i told you that fucker was no good," an australian accent falls upon the room, making her lift her tear-stained face up to look at him. "i hate to be the one to say that to you."
"fuck off," she sobs, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "i already feel like shit."
oscar nods, but he does sit on her other side. sandwiched by the two guys, oscar just fishes for something from his bag. presented to them, three separate pints of ice cream with spoons.
she smiles, passing down the other pint to logan. but she doesn't say anything to the australian who's already opened up his share and has started eating.
she just presses her back to the wall behind her and looks ahead. she digs her spoon into the dessert. "i saw logan with a girl in the hallway the other day."
"hey, what the hell!"
2018
she holds up her phone, grinning to herself as she takes a video. she runs over to the boy zipping up his race suit. "oh, my god! it's logan sargeant, sir! can i have a couple seconds of your time for an interview?"
"(y/n), you made it!" he laughs, wrapping his arms around the smaller girl. "oscar should be around here somewhere."
"i wouldn't miss your first race, of course," she states matter-of-factly with an eye roll. she squeezes his side and leans in as he presses his lips to her cheek. she puts her phone into her pocket. "i'm always your biggest fan."
"you're the president of my fan club, right?" his eyes light up, teasing her as he rests his arm on her shoulder. "i wouldn't accept my fan club if it wasn't you running it."
she shrugs. "maybe, but i'm gonna need you to set me up on a date with max fewtrell."
"i thought you wanted to go out with charles leclerc?"
"he's got a girlfriend."
"i think max has got a girlfriend too," logan chuckles, simply amused by her presence. "tough luck, dude."
"man, i might just die an old maid," she drops her head with a frown.
"oi, what are you doing? the race is about to start," oscar scolds, hands held out as he scolds his friends. he looks at her, eyeing her up and down once more. "you're not dressed yet! it's your first race in a car. let's go, mate!"
"i didn't wanna seem so excited," she shrugs, "i don't know."
"well, there won't be a race if you're not dressed in your race suit, idiot," oscar scolds, pushing her towards the further end of the garages. "come on, i have to beat you again today. my race won't be complete if i don't."
"absolute bitch," she mutters, glaring at the two boys as she walks away. "i'll see you guys on the track - remember to look in your rearview mirror for me."
2019
the three sit in a circle, on her carpeted floor once more. "i'm sorry you didn't get a seat in f3, (y/n)," logan sighs, dropping his head in disappointment. "i can't believe it."
"it's okay." she leans back on her bed and sighs, dropping her head as well. she lifts it up again with a forced smile. "i'll watch you guys all the time, i swear. i'll be your biggest fan."
oscar shakes his head. "you'll get a seat. the season hasn't started yet - someone will pick you up."
she frowns, putting her hand on oscar's knee. "it's okay, oscar," she says softly.
how touching is it to have friends who care about your progression in a sport where you're meant to be selfish?
"you deserve a seat more than anyone i know," he sighs, pulling his legs up into his chest. he rests his chin on his knee. "it's not fair. they're overlooking you. you're so good on the track."
"not better than you, though," she jokes.
he looks at her from the side of his eye. his disappointment never leaves, "you could wind up being better than me. come on."
"there's not a lot of space for girls like me in a sport like this," she smiles slightly, squeezing his knee. "it's okay. i'll be at every single race cheering for both of you. i promise."
oscar furrows his eyebrows, still shaking his head. he's got 3 sisters - he'd be bummed if they were to pour their heart and soul into something and not have the same opportunities.
if he could, he'd simply flip the world upside down.
"don't give up, okay?" he moves his head, now cheek on his chin as he looks at the girl with hopeful eyes. "promise me - you'll be in an f1 car someday with us on tv. racing it out in the pinnacle of motorsport."
"obviously," she grins. "i won't ever let logan beat me."
"now, this is why you didn't get a seat, dude," logan jokes, exchanging a smack on the knee with the girl. "fix your attitude."
"i bet you're glad that i didn't get a seat - i'd beat you over and over in an f3 track."
"you'd have to get a seat to prove that, (y/n)."
2020
"i got you the seat!" oscar jumps onto her bed, grinning ear to ear. he squeezes the girl on her laptop, her head craned slightly to look at him. "you're going to be in formula 3!"
"what did you say?"
"you're going to be racing in formula 3 for the 2020 season, you idiot!" he screams, taking the laptop from her thighs. he closes it gently and puts it down on the ground. "dude, catch up faster!"
her eyes widen as the gears in her head slowly process what the australian has just bestowed upon her ears. her nose scrunched as a piercing scream slowly erupts from her mouth.
she stands on her knees on her bed, holding oscar's arms. "if this is a prank, i'm going to turn you into pastry!"
"it's not, i got you the seat in formula 3!" he screams, shaking her vigorously, jumping on her bed. "dude, you're a step closer to formula 1! i told you to never give up!"
"what do you mean, i never stopped racing!" she says amidst her screams, shaking oscar back as the adrenaline starts to pump through her veins. "i cannot believe it! i'm going to be in a formula 3 car!"
"yeah!" oscar jumps off his bed. "come on, let's go get drinks with logan! he's coming over with a couple of beers!"
she hops off the bed, her body going into his. they stumble back a couple of steps, oscar's back hitting the door with a thud. "dude, we can't just celebrate with a couple of beers. let's go to the club!" she shrieks, smacking his chest.
oscar tilts his head, lips pressed together. "are you sure? you're kind of uncontrollable in the club..."
"yeah, but i have the right to be tonight!" she rolls her eyes, "i just got promoted to formula 3!"
2021
"this formula 2 crap is easy," she mutters, taking her helmet off her head. she trudges towards the two in the red race suits, her balaclava also flinging off her head. "come on, oscar."
"oh, shut up," oscar laughs, wrapping an arm around her. "good job beating me for the first time."
"i made it my life's mission, actually," she whispers, dropping her head. she smiles, throwing her head back to look up at her two friends. "god, this feels amazing!"
"oh, i owe you 50, don't i?" logan frowns at oscar, hands on his hips. "i can't believe she beat you before the season ended. you growin' soft, piastri?"
"i just thought i should let her have one glimpse at beating me before i proceed to do it the rest of our lives," oscar snorts with a smug grin as he looks down at her. "feel it while you can, (y/n)."
she frowns up at him. "i'll beat you for real someday, pastry. i've done it once today, and i'll do it again."
he nods with a proud smile. "don't let that fire go out, dude."
2022
"oh, hold the front door!" she screams into the phone, turning around to smack oscar's shoulder. oscar, who was sitting quietly on her dining table, eating the spaghetti he's prepared for her household. "are you joking, mate?"
logan tilts his head at oscar, only receiving a similarly confused shrug from the australian boy. they both glance at her, confused, at her sudden scream amidst their dinner debrief after having not seen each other for a couple of weeks.
"there's no way! sebastian vettel said that about me?" she screams, smacking oscar's shoulder again.
"oh, you're kidding!" oscar grunts, smacking her hand from his shoulder. she doesn't react towards him, just jumps away to her living room with the phone still on her ear.
"you reckon she's scored a dinner with sebastian vettel with that reaction?" logan teases softly, pointing at the girl rambling away on the phone. "i've got my money on that."
oscar shakes his head. "maybe lewis hamilton through sebastian vettel."
they hear her heavy footsteps approaching the dining area. she simply drops her phone to the smaller table next to her, coming in slightly paler than they'd last seen of her a few seconds prior.
her lips slowly creep and spread into a grin. "i've been promoted to formula 1," she says breathily, her hand coming up to rest on the door frame behind her. she takes another deep breath. "sebastian's going to be race engineer in the 2023 season."
and all hell broke loose in the dining area that night.
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology
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rustedhearts · 2 months
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just friends (roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader)
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summary: you and steve have been just friends for years now. but how long can you convince everyone you're 'just friends' before it becomes a lie? or steve harrington is your super hot roommate and everyone thinks it's stupid you guys aren't dating yet.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
✶ the library
tags: roommate!steve, kinda shitty boyfriend!eddie, pining, fluff, angst, casual dominance from our casual dominance king steve, honestly going to try so hard not to make this a series but you know me.
a/n: i've wanted to write roommate!steve for so ages. you can thank a much-needed new girl binge and my tendency to take my frustration out on my mop for this.
The bass-heavy bump of music came at Steve full force before he even stepped out of the elevator. He paused, staring down the door of your shared apartment knowing that the sight that would welcome him would not be pretty.
In the kitchen, you were hunched over the handle of a mop, furiously dragging it over a sliver of tile. Teeth gritted together, face flushed and damp with sweat, hair disheveled and pulled away from your face, a pair of cotton shorts and an old t-shirt rolled up to the shoulders—you were a mess.
You were sad.
"Uh-oh." Steve stepped into the room, calling over the booming music. "What happened?"
You jumped a little, accustomed to the quiet of the apartment on Saturday nights. Steve almost always spent weekend nights at the bar down the street hitting on girls too sweet for him. You usually had until at least 11:30 to do whatever you wanted before some random girl came scampering in, clinging to Steve and giggling as they fumbled to his room.
But he was home early. And no matter how long you'd lived together, or how well he knew you, you still hated being seen like this.
So, you never took your eyes off the mop, scrubbing away a sauce stain on the tile.
"Nothing." You shrugged, flicking wisps of hair out of your eyes.
Steve watched you whirl around to drag the mop toward the bucket again. You stabbed it into the soapy water with a vengeance, nose scrunching with every slosh and splash. Steve leaned against the doorway and quirked a brow.
"Yeah? You're playing your sad music, though."
Your sad music consisted of a handful of hard rock records that most people would consider music for a dive bar—but you only ever played it when you were staving off tears. The louder you played it, the more upset you were.
Steve knew you a little too well.
This comment went ignored as you slapped the mop back on the floor and continued an angered scrubbing. Steve sighed, scratching at his temple. Most of the time, it was best to leave you alone. Sometimes, you needed to talk it out. It took a little coaxing—a pizza and a cold glass of Coke with a straw usually did the trick—but eventually, you'd spill.
And Steve would fix it.
Calm you down, help you figure it out, offer some advice. He gave pretty good advice for someone still struggling to get his own shit figured out.
Steve could tell from the way the song went unsung, the way you huffed every time the mop head flipped, the way you started stomping your foot when you found a stale French fry under the stove—you needed him to step in.
Pushing off the wall, Steve crossed the room and placed his hand over yours on the mop handle.
"Hey. Hey, come on."
You struggled at first, scowling at him as you tugged on the handle. "Stop it."
He sighed again. He was always sighing at you like a disappointed teacher.
"Hey." A little firmer this time, accompanied by a sharp snatch of the handle from your grasp into his. When you dropped your hands and obliged, the furrow of his brow relaxed. "Thank you. Now, why don't you go take a shower. The house is clean enough."
You frowned, wiping at the sweat on your head. "I just—"
Steve pressed his hand flat into the small of your back, steering you toward the door. "Seriously, honey, it's fine. You do stink, though."
That made your lip twitch—a semblance of a smile—with an amused little huff. You took a step toward the door, slippered feet scuffing. You looked over your shoulder toward Steve standing where you left him, still holding the mop.
He waved you off. "Go on. Take a nap, too.”
You nodded, flashing a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, Steve."
He watched you shuffle away, shoulders slumped and eyes down as you went. He propped the mop against the kitchen counter and shook his head at the mess of cleaning supplies on the table.
When he heard the bathroom door clamp shut and the hiss of the shower head turn on, Steve rushed the front door again.
He opened it a smidge, enough to fit his head in and smile sweetly at the girl waiting in the hall picking at her nails. She perked up, stepping toward the door eagerly.
"Hey," Steve cooed, voice dripping with honey. "I'm so sorry, my roommate got sick all over. I think s-he needs to go to the doctor, so...would you mind if we raincheck?"
The girl—Sarah, as he would recall later on—broke into a concerned pout, clasping her hands over her chest. "Oh my god, that's terrible! You're so sweet taking care of him."
Steve chuckled, a breezy smile on his mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for understanding."
She tipped her head, adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder. "Of course. Call me when he's feeling better?"
Steve nodded, knowing the phone number in his back pocket would dissolve in the washer in a week, and he had no intention of ever calling her to begin with.
"Yeah, for sure. Night."
"Goodnight."
He waited until the elevator dinged, watching the doors close on her grinning face, before pulling back into the apartment and locking the door. He blew a sigh out of his cheeks, head shaking as he headed toward the hall.
The shower had stopped, and he could hear the soft, wet patters of your feet behind the door when he leaned against the wall beside it. He knocked two knuckles gently into the wood.
"Honey?" he called. "Need anything? Wanna order a pizza?"
He waited, adjusting the hem of his shirt to spread out a wrinkle in the fabric. He knew what the answer would be, but he couldn't always be so obvious. He had to pretend that he didn't know you like the back of his hand, because everyone started telling him how weird it was.
"You've lived with this girl for two years and haven't boned? You're either gay or dumb as a box of fuckin' rocks," is what Max told him when they met for lunch a few months ago.
Everyone said the same thing. His sister, who teased him at birthday parties and summer barbecues that you were always his date for. Sabrina did everything in her power to push the two of you closer together at family events, ensuring your seats were always paired and your activities were always coupled up.
"You look at her like a dog with a bone," she teased last Fourth of July.
But Steve only shook his head, glancing your way where you were helping his mother decorate cupcakes. You were dating some guy in IT at the time. Total fucking nerd. He made you pay for most of the dates.
"Nah...we're just friends. She's got a boyfriend."
We're just friends was probably Steve's most popular sentence in the English language since the day he met you. A pair of college graduates who had no clue what the hell they were supposed to do with their lives, roommate-matched by the apartment complex and so content with each other that you just kept renewing the lease.
When you finally replied to his question, your voice came like a small, pipping whisper behind the door. "Yeah...but with mushrooms this time?"
This time, as if you didn't order a mushroom and sausage pizza every time. Steve smiled, pushing off the wall.
"Okay—"
"And—"
"And sausage, I know. I'll call 'em."
"Okay."
While Steve called the pizza place a few blocks over, you clutched a towel to your chest and padded to your room. You pulled on the softest items you owned and sat on the end of your bed. A long day of cleaning certainly tired you out, but that wasn't what ailed you.
It was the fight with your boyfriend last night at the bar, when he yelled at you for laughing at Steve's jokes even though you always did. He thought you were too close, too "chummy" to be just friends.
Unbeknownst to Steve, we're just friends was one of your most common phrases, too. You should've had it engraved on your forehead at this point.
"Hey." Two knuckles on your door this time before it skittered open. Steve popped his head in and grinned at you. "Wearin' my favorite sweatpants? Must be feelin' better."
You glanced down at the black sweatpants on your legs, snickering softly. Steve thought they hugged your ass perfectly, and loved the way they flared at the calves. The logo right on your left ass cheek was especially beautiful.
When you opted to leave that soft noise as your reply, Steve stepped into the room. He flopped beside you on the bed, springs squeaking shrilly.
"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.
You shook your head down at your lap, rubbing at your eye. You hated crying, and so far today you'd been doing well swallowing them down. Steve had only seen you cry once, and you avoided him for three days after.
Something about vulnerability made you cower.
"Okay...wanna watch a movie?"
You sighed, shifting a little away from him. Steve clocked it with a brow-furrowed frown.
"Steve...you don't have to make me feel better. I'm fine."
His lips parted to reply—most likely in protest—but the door chittered on its hinges once more with the small butted head of your tuxedo cat, Ted.
Steve immediately stood and scooped Ted up, turning to bring him to the bed. He scratched under his chin and brought forth a low humming purr immediately.
Not even cats could resist that pretty boy charm.
"Well, I reckon this lil guy will do a better job of cheerin' you up," Steve cooed, plopping Ted beside you.
A quiet giggle slipped from your mouth as you reached to swoop his tail. "Reckon?"
Steve shrugged, a sheepish grin on his mouth. "Just came out. I turn Southern in a crisis, darlin'."
He was just trying to make you laugh now, and he couldn't help but mirror the sound when it proved effective. Though, it also proved temporary. You soon settled on your side, tugging Ted to your chest with a fading smile.
Steve ran his fingers through his hair, gathering a chunk of it at the top to pull. A stress tick. You tried not to feel guilty for causing it.
"Well...alright." Steve shuffled backward toward the door. "Pizza in fifteen."
You nodded into the pillow. "Okay. Thanks."
Steve lingered a beat too long, eyeing your balled up form on the bed before slipping into the hall. You'd been sad plenty times over the years: breakups, let-downs, missed jobs.
But the guy you were dating now...you really seemed to like him. He was over all the time, practically living here at one point. Steve didn't really understand what you saw in the guy—Eddie. Steve scoffed to himself, head shaking. Stupid name.
You met Eddie at the auto shop where he worked. He gave you a discount on your oil change, and his tire talk was so smooth that you went on a date two days later. Six months later, and things still seemed to be going smoothly despite the pair of you having very little in common.
Usually, you dated harmless little nerdy guys. Steve actually laughed in the face of a five foot eight finance bro who threatened to "hurt him real bad" if he got in the way of your relationship. You dumped him that night, and the pair of you still laugh about it to this day.
But Eddie was...different. Sleeves of dark ink and a chainlink on his belt. A handful of chunky silver rings and another one in his nose. He always clinked in with a nod Steve's way and a hand on your ass, and it seemed that every time he kissed you in front of Steve, he looked him right in the eye while he did it.
Steve didn't like how small you made yourself around Eddie, and he didn't like how much Eddie seemed to enjoy it.
For everyone's sake, he hoped it wasn't Eddie that made you sad. For once, he wasn't sure he'd win that fight.
✶ ✶
There were many things about your behavior that night that concerned Steve.
Number 1: You only ate three pieces of pizza, and he got one small mushroom-sausage with extra cheese just for you.
Number 2: You didn't let Ted in when he scratched at your door, and Steve had to bring him to his own room for bed.
But worst of all.
Number 3: You didn't say goodnight.
So, Steve went to bed with Ted curled at his feet and a lump in his throat. Whatever you were upset about was bad, he could just tell; and everything in him was itching to make it better. He had this terrible, stupid ache to make life easy for you, and it never really went away.
He opened all your jars, refilled all your water bottles, made sure your phone was charged when he saw the little red bar. He bought more of your favorite snacks when he saw them running low, picked up things that "felt like you" when he saw them at the store. You had an abundance of miscellaneous yellow items sitting on your windowsill because you told him it was your favorite color two years ago.
In Steve's eyes, everything yellow in the world belonged to you.
Steve stirred in a half sleep for hours, kicking at his covers and offering murmured apologies to a miffed Ted who meowed at him. His concerns, however, came to a head when the sound of muffled shouting startled him completely awake.
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and tapped the screen, rubbing his eyes clear to read the 1:15. He wondered which couple in the building was fighting this late. His bet was on Jax and Monica in 1F who were always on the outs.
"You think I'm a fuckin' idiot? I see the way he looks at you!"
But that was Eddie's voice.
"I don't understand where this is coming from."
And that was yours.
Steve shot up, fumbling for his glasses in their case somewhere in his nightstand drawer. He shoved them over his eyes, swinging his legs over the bed.
"I'm tired of competing with your fucking roommate."
"You don't—you aren't! Eddie, please, you know we're just friends."
"Spare me. You're a shitty liar. Hey! C'mere, I'm not done talkin'."
Oh, hell no. Pants abandoned, Steve swung his door open with banging force and rushed into the hall.
He found the pair of you in the entryway, Eddie's hand around your arm and your cheeks soaked with tears. You still had your pajamas on, and those little yellow slippers Steve bought for you last Christmas.
Both heads turned when Steve hurried into the room, tailed by a confused Ted butting at his leg.
Eddie huffed, motioning toward Steve. "Oh, great, of course you're here."
Steve braced his hands on his hips, glaring at the raven-haired man. "I live here, dick-wad. Remove your hand."
Eddie ignored him, still wringing your arm out. You cast your eyes away from Steve, ashamed by the state he found you in.
"You live up my girlfriend's ass, Harrington. And I'm kinda tired of you being there all the fucking time."
"Remove. Your. Hand."
"Stop," you sniffled, wiping the tears from your cheeks though it wouldn't do much to hide the pink rims of your eyes. "Eddie, he's my friend."
"If he's gonna be your friend, then we're done."
You gaped up at him, more hot tears bubbling over and stinging your eyes. "W-what? Eddie, that's—"
Eddie shrugged, smug and uncaring. "You heard me."
Steve's eyes moved your way, and he could only stomach the absolute heartbreak on your face for a split second before he was stepping forward.
"Alright," he barked, and then he was shoving the arm Eddie was holding you with. "Let her go, Aerosmith, and get the fuck out."
Eddie let you go, but spun sharply to face Steve. You weren't sure whose glare was more frightening.
Eddie stepped until he was toe-to-toe with your roommate. "You like fuckin' another man's girl? You like my sloppy seconds, you pussy bit—"
Steve might not have been much of a fighter, certainly didn't fare well with a man who lifted cars for a living—but he certainly excelled at being discrete.
Which is how he got a right hook in before Eddie could fight back. Which is also how Eddie ended up on the ground, and unable to stand again for a few moments.
"Jesus, Steve," you scolded, peering down at your boyfriend with wide eyes. “You knocked him out!”
Steve cleared his throat, ignoring the buzzing pain in his knuckles as he swept them through his hair and motioned toward Eddie.
“Hm? Nah, honey, he’s just…he’s takin’ a nap.”
Though still numbed by shock and worry, you couldn’t help the amused snort that rippled through you. Steve’s lip quirked, and he glanced at Eddie when he groaned on the floor.
“Um, well…let’s get you up, bud. Yeah, you’re okay, c’mon.” Steve began talking to Eddie like a child, cooing as he helped him to his feet by the arm.
And maybe he wasn’t nice about walking him to the elevator, watching him crumble to the floor as the doors closed. Maybe the shiner swelling on Eddie’s cheek filled Steve with incredulous joy.
But he swallowed all of it down when he returned to the apartment and found you standing right where he left you. If you were ashamed of your tears this time, it didn’t show. You grew inconsolable, and Steve had no other thought in mind that didn’t involve picking you up and taking you back to bed.
So he did just that, letting you soak his bare chest with tears as he went. When he sat you on the bed, he tipped your head up by the chin and wiped your cheeks.
“He’s not comin’ back tonight, sweetheart, it’s okay.”
Sniffling, you let him dry your tears and pull strands of hair from the sticky residue. “He thinks we were cheating. I t-tried to tell him…that we’re just friends.”
You deflated with a hiccuped sigh, and Steve’s smile was full of pity and pain. He rubbed his thumbs into your cheeks, nodding his agreement.
“Yeah. Just friends, honey.”
Your eyes fluttered with exhaustion, and Steve swallowed thickly. He pinched the edge of your pillow to pull it down, and gently coaxed you down by the shoulders. He pulled the covers up to your chin and plucked Ted from the ground to join you on the bed.
“He ain’t worth your tears, honey. Get some sleep.”
Sniffling again, you nodded quietly. Steve flashed another smile, and stepped back toward the door. As he reached for the light switch, he glanced over his shoulder to find your eyes again.
“Goodnight, Steve,” you whispered.
He shut the light off so you wouldn’t see the way he closed his eyes, like it pained him to hear you with another cry in your throat.
“Goodnight, honey.”
Steve sat awake until 6 a.m waiting for Eddie to come to his senses and return for vengeance. But he never came. In some way, Steve knew that would hurt you even more.
So in the morning when you woke, he greeted you with a handful of sunshine yellow daffodils and your favorite coffee. A soft kiss on the head and a scratch at Ted’s chin on his way out.
“Gonna meet up with a friend today. Call me if you need me, ‘kay?”
He went home with the first girl he met at the bar that day just to get you out of his head, and lied about it when he came home.
Just friends. Yeah, right.
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levisrations · 1 month
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I’ve been in a baby fever mood lately so here’s more Dad! Levi content.
Feeding your baby solids for the first time. Pediatrician gave you the green light that at 6 months kid can start eating solids. You were so excited to make those little meals for your son. Searching online for recipes and buying ingredients. You’re both very adamant your baby gets the best of the best.
You’ve got hemp seeds, chia seeds, all the vegetables and fruits. Levi in particular wants to avoid pre- made baby food. It’s better to do it from scratch. He even got those pouches to put in home made purées for the baby. Shopping has become more expensive since but you both know it’s worth it.
First day of baby led weaning was nerve racking and exciting at the same time. Exciting because you get to cook these mini versions of healthy meals like these tiny muffins made with applesauce and little pizzas. Nerve racking because well, choking hazards. You’re both prepared with CPR certifications since learning you we’re expecting a baby. Can’t be too safe Levi says.
For breakfast, oat pancakes and greek yogurt with some raspberries. You set him in his little high chair with his bib as Levi sets the plate down and makes sure it suctions to the table. Your baby looks at his plate confused at first but immediately has a firm grip on a pancake and puts it in his mouth. You were both watching him like hawks to make sure he doesn’t just shove the whole thing in his mouth
“Is that good bud?” You’re so happy he seems to like the pancakes. “Try a berry” you ask as he puts half a soggy pancake down to try the other option. He immediately grabs a crushed raspberry and virtually inhales it. “Alright slow down little guy” Levi says with slight apprehension in his voice.
Your baby kicks his little feet in excitement. Mental note is made he loves raspberries, Levi might bring a whole carton just for his son.
First meal went smoothly. Baby ate all the berries and only a few scraps of soggy with baby drool pancakes left, overall a success. You wash the dishes as Levi gets the bib off and lifts his son out the chair unto his hip, cleaning the berry stains with a wipe. “Ey hold still you little brat” as your baby fights his father cleaning attempts.
Rest of the morning is spent teaching your baby to say mama or dada. He looked like he was about to start crawling anytime now with the way he scoots on his tummy. Levi seems nauseous at the idea, too many new things in one day for him.
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undercoverpena · 2 months
Text
a debt to pay
frankie morales x f!reader | masterlist
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summary: you surprise frankie by coming home earlier than planned, answering the door a-la-fake-porn like, making him drag you to your bedroom.
warnings: smut. established relationship. praise kink. minor (and I mean brief) hand necklace. dirty talk. okay, frankie likes to talk kink. cowgirl riding for iwd. and the pizza goes cold (felt it needed a warning) wordcount: 4.8k an: to the wonderful, amazing @morallyinept - happy international women's day! i hope frankie treating you right is what you had on your bucket list for the day. but if not, just know you inspire me, and i'm grateful for your friendship every day. and ily.
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Nothing should surprise him.
He’s seen a lot. A thing some could argue is far too much. In some ways, they’re right.
Frankie isn’t sure people who weren’t doctors should know the exact hue of red that blood is—shouldn’t know the pain from a bullet grazing his shoulder, catching flesh and ruining cloth.
Still, he found himself continually surprised—especially the night he met you.
Falling into him, into his life. Disrupting his days from bleeding into the next, knocking things off their axis. Change should be scary, but it was all welcomed, just not in a way he’d ever thought he’d earned.
Somehow, amidst the chaos you brought with you, you also handed him harmony. You made the corners of his world slot together. Slowly, he even found himself anchoring down to brick and mortar, and calling it ‘home’ for the first time since he’d originally left his for battles and fighting.
In time, even as months became a year, your things found their way to be with his, Frankie had assumed he’d seen everything. Happy to accept it, the routine, the complacency. He looked forward to lazy Sunday mornings with his fingers inside yours, toes curling; Thursday nights in a bar, watching a line appear on your brow as you scoured your brain for an answer to the trivia question.
He liked it, adored it.
And then you opened the front door for him.
Flooding him in golden light that makes him squint, before he finds himself reminded, quickly, he hasn’t seen it all. Not even by a margin.
Because you're not supposed to be here, due back tomorrow.
Your voice on the phone earlier muted, low, "I miss you, Morales," as he stares at your untouched, clean mug on the kitchen counter.
Yet, here you stand. All veiled in barely anything except bits of lace and sheer, a sight his eyes aren't able to tear away from even if he tries. Not even the dryness in his throat or the warmth emanating from the pizza box he's holding (attempting to sear his skin to his palm) is bothering him.
"Bab—"
His words are cut short, ended.
"Oh," you gasp. “Let me take that; and how much do I owe you?”
On registering your words, his eyes narrow, staring.
Doing so from one eye to the next. It taking a while, brain firing, ticking over, taking precious seconds as he remains out in the cold and you stand in the warmth in barely fucking anything, before it dawns on him. Crawls up over him as realises what it is you’re pretending to do, what you're reenacting.
Lips lifting, curling into one of his cheeks he steps in through the doorway. Almost over the threshold, easily able to take another step and close the door behind him.
But he waits.
Fingers twitch at his side, Frankie swallows, eyes dropping, tracing up the bare backs of your thighs as you bend over. Because fuck, you're something beautiful. A thing he always thinks, but finds himself reminded in waves as they crash into him.
Raising his hand, he itches across his chin, scratching along the wiry hair there as his gaze drops to the thin fabric protecting the last bit of your modesty as you and the bits of lace spread across your ass—
“I only have card—unless, I can pay you in another way?”
This shouldn’t be real.
You, like this. Him, standing like this. Not even as he steps inside, eyes trained on you—forgetting what words even mean—as you bend over.
A low exhale escapes, lips remaining parted as he fights to place his palm on the back of your thigh—stops himself from hooking a finger in the band of your underwear and dragging it down your thighs, bending you over the sofa, and burying his—
“I would really like to pay you in some way.”
Your words are almost lost due to the way his pulse has quickened in his ears, thundering, pounding. Feeling nothing but discomfort as his cock hardens against the zip of his pants as you bite down on your lip.
Brain quiet, no thoughts, all rendered silent by your appearance. Only able to shift enough to discard his cap, his jacket—folding it over the back of the sofa, eyes drawing out over you as he takes a step closer. Fingers finding his wrist, pinching, making sure this isn't some dream he hasn't woken up from.
But he can smell the present. The glorious cheese and several toppings, even if devouring the pizza are long forgotten. Because his eyes are raking over you, because how could he not—especially now as you straighten up, softly wiggling your hips.
"Is that so?” his voice rough, words catching. Letters clagging at the back of his teeth as though they attempted to glue to his mouth.
He's aware the three words are stained with want—a small, knowing smile tugging at your lips as you turn to face him, knowing it too.
But then, you always do know. Having long figured him out.
Like always, your eyes meet his in a way he can never explain, no words to articulate, to explain—just shared understanding dancing between the two of you.
“It’s only right,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, your fingers reaching out to trace his wire-stubbled jawline. “It’s bad of me to order food and not have the money to pay.”
He catches your wrist, gently but firmly. Pulling you close, steadying you with the other at your waist. Hearing it, the gasp, the briefest of indications you'd been caught by surprise, as he brushes his fingers against the fabric, all unable to stop themself. Half-needing to know what it feels like, as his thumb smooths out, taking his time—forcing the tension to buzz in the air as he leans closer. The distance you small, minimal—almost non-existent—as his breath hitches in his throat.
“You know what you’re getting into?” his voice a low growl, strained.
His gaze locked on you, watching you bite on your lower lip. “I really don’t like being in debt.”
It’s low, the way he replies. Short, two words: okay baby, before he’s leading, guiding, pecking kisses on your lips that likely leave you disorientated. It thrumming in his veins, the fact he gets to undo you, peel off the thin fabric you’ve likely had stuffed at the back of the closet—or even purchased with him in mind on your trip, thighs pressed together, wondering, finger and thumb stroking it as you imagine if he'd rip it off or slowly slide it from you.
He's not sure himself.
A part of him wishes to snap it from your frame in front of open blinds and undrawn curtains. To place his palm on your ass and taste your gasp on his tongue.
But another, the part which has missed you, wishes to wait. Make you wait. Wants to drag it out as long as humanly possible, have you soaked, wet, needy and desperate.
Because Frankie wonders if you've imagined this. Or, if you plotted it or it came to you randomly.
He gets an answer to it when the two of you are behind another door—one more private, intimate.
And it feels different in the bedroom than it did out in the living room.
The lighting being one of the reasons.
In here, you had opted for a darker shade when you’d both redecorated. Told him you preferred it, and had given him a shrug and a smile as you did. It had been a while later when he’d learned it was for him. For his eyes, for the sleep he struggled to grasp. It’ll help, I think? Saying it to him as though it wasn’t the kindest fucking thing someone had done for him.
But then, you are a waking dream.
A thing which has shaped itself and made itself real right before his eyes. Sculpted yourself from wishes and wants, shaping until you’re nothing but tangible and real.
He’s not afraid to tell you that either. Spends hours whispering it into your skin, pressing it close to your ear, repeating it over and over what perfection you are as you look at him with lust-blown eyes and lips parted around his name.
Frankie doubts it’s enough.
Least of all now, when you’re painted in soft white light, all gentle in how it rolls over you, as it becomes clear you’ve been home for a while.
You've drawn the blackout curtains—keeping out the evening—and you'd flicked the little bedside lamp on, doing its best to illuminate the room.
Swallowing, he traces his teeth over his tongue, wondering if you watched him reverse off the drive as you waited to make your move. Wondering if you're snuck in, trying not to disturb—dress yourself up, even if you never need to.
Because you’re a vision always.
The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Even angry because he's left his tools out or with disappointment etched into your eyes because he’s forgotten something, you’re radiant, a goddess on earth.
A thing he finds himself reminded of as he steps closer to you. Fingers fiddling at his side as begins to close the small gap.
If not for the way he’s looking at you, he might have missed the shiver running through you from anticipation—and he knows it because of his action, due to the hungry look he's sure he's sporting as he raises his hands to remove his outer shirt. Balling it up, throwing it, a thing already unremembered before it even leaves his fingers.
"Frankie..."
"I know, just keep your eyes on me."
And you do, ever obedient. A thing no one would believe him off outside of these four walls. Not when you hold yourself strong and are quick to bite back, all wit and quick-thinking in addition to your brains and beauty.
He hooks a finger under the edge of his t-shirt, dragging it up over his head as he hears it—that little hiss, that slight gasp you do as though you’ve not seen him topless a thousand times.
It feels good. Makes heat rise up his neck and flood his ears. For a moment, he forgets he’s not all that. Because he’s soft, a little thicker around the middle, it feels like a lifetime ago he was trained in combat. But the way you look at him makes him feel like that is the furthest thing from the truth.
Fuck, you make him hard. Make him want. Have done since the moment you’d given him half a chance.
It’s why he's quick to pull you close, desperate to slant his mouth over yours. All fiery, hungry. Aiming to claim and write out all the ways he’s thought of you in the days since you’d been away. How the hours of you being gone and the amount he’s missed you have all balled up into a thing that is now fuelling him—sketching his wishes and desires across your lips, against your tongue, burying them past your teeth so they sit in your throat.
He grasps. Likely leaves marks of it on the perfect skin that covers your waist—because his palm is calloused and worn. Reminders of holding things not half as soft as you. A flicker of guilt almost bubbles in his, as he moves to rest it on your cheek, cradling your jaw and ear in one hand, as he slides the other up your back.
You whimper against his teeth before fingers find the clasp—finger and thumb, pinging it open before he feels fabric scrape against him—then you moan.
His chest being greeted with nothing but warm, smooth bare skin—nipples pebbling in the cooler air before being pressed against him, before he cups the swell of one, thumb stroking, playing a pattern.
“Do this for all the deliveries you get?”
You snort, it blowing out in a breath. “Only the ones with packages I like.”
In the time you’ve been together, you’ve said worse, but this time makes cock harden more than it already is. It's almost uncomfortable, in how it presses against his zipper, wishing to be released, as his index and thumb stroke over your skin. Taking it on how warm you are, how impossibly soft—distantly feeling the tremors from your heart hammering into your ribs.
"Too good for me, you are." You hum, as he seals his mouth back over yours. “But, I don’t take card.”
Purposefully, he drops his hand, fingers dipping, tracing across the lace that covers your slit—finding damp fabric as his ears take in the note of a quiet escape leaving your lips. It trying to bury itself between your two mouths open, breathing it in.
“Guess you’ll have to swipe something else.”
He snorts, and buries it into your neck, teeth grazing your skin—nose catching the scent of your perfume. And the scent almost makes him dizzy from how his blood rushes south. How the moment he’d dropped you off for your flight, it had lingered in the cabin of his truck. Remaining there for the first few days you were gone, before slowly fading. Leaving.
Just there on the coat you'd hung near the door and the pillows he slept beside.
The ones he rested his head against when he’d heard your voice down the phone, tell me to touch myself, Frankie, I need you. His own hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it as you moaned his name, all those miles away, dripping instructions into your ear.
“You're such a dirty girl.”
You grin in response, fingers tugging at his curls—urging his mouth back to yours.
But, he instead traces his tongue over your pulse, circling it, all defiant in bowing to you as his teeth trace over his path. Instead, his finger dips, traces the crease of your thigh with his gaze never leaving yours.
“Missed you,” you whisper.
His hand slides between your thighs, cupping you—feeling the discernible wetness soaked through.
“Can feel it.”
You scoff, but he kisses it away.
Doing so in a similar way to how he makes you forget, how he pulls you from your mind and brings you to the present. It’s also swallowed by another gasp, one made because of his fingers finding the edge of the lace, hooking a finger underneath, sliding the pad of his thumb against your swollen nerves and slick entrance.
"So wet for me," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the whine you emit. “Feelin’ needy, querida?”
And he can’t take his eyes off you.
Practically locked in, watching as your lips part, and your hips try to shift for more friction. He’s too fearful he’ll miss it, all of it—a slight curve of a brow or a shimmer on your eyes. All things he thinks over when he dreams, when he wishes for replays of moments until the next day when he makes another that easily replaces a good one.
He likes how you say his name when he slips another finger inside you—how it falls all soft, breathless. So much intention in such a low sound. Even as you squirm, mouth pausing over his; little mewls and moans falling as he drags them in and out, all languorous, teasing.
“Want you.”
His thumb brushes over your swollen clit, a hiss escaping. “I know.”
You gasp his name, stifle a moan, teeth biting down on the underside of your lower lip as your lashes flutter. It’s your nails digging into his scalp that keeps him rooted, that keeps him focused—precise touches and strokes that have you rocking against him and keep him tuned in to you.
“Missed how you sound, baby. You're doing so well.”
You’re close. His words make your perfect pussy clench around him. A chorus of moans escaping as he curls them inside of you, finds that spot, the one which makes you babble and turns your muscles into liquid.
He likes that he can do this.
That he can read you and undo you. That it’s a thing he’s mastered when he’d thought he was far from learning. But then, he’d taken great pride in spending hours studying—in alternating between being on his back and on his knees.
And because of that, he knows when he halt you over the edge. Let you linger, not tipping.
Normally, he’d never tease, never make you want—but, today is a different kind of day as he stops. As he retracts his fingers and allows the fabric to lightly snap back into place.
It’s a different whine that cuts into the room then. It pours out from your lips as your eyes dig daggers into him—but, he knows you.
Knows it’s momentary and nothing he can’t fix. Able to hold his ground against it, digging heels into the floor—all refusing to be swayed by the storm rising inside of you, creeping across the formerly tranquil sea. Instead, his hands move to his belt—undoing it, metal clanging and zip sliding down as your eyes break from glaring to stare hungrily at the outline of his cock.
Watching as you walk backwards, the back of your knees hitting the bed before you’re perching—eyes holding his, tip of your tongue sweeping, tracing, as you move further up the bed. The one you’d picked—chosen.
He’s in a trance.
Under a spell when you hook a thumb on either side of your underwear.
It’s not smooth, it doesn’t glide or remove with ease—there’s even a slight kick out of your legs before it flings from your ankle. But, it makes him tighten the hold on his cock. Because it may not be a thing people ever see on TV or in movies, but then they never feel like this.
They don’t feel real, no rawness, no tangling of his trousers he has to step out of as he strokes himself, eyes flicking down to where you’re bare—where you’re glistening—
“Wanna ride you, Frank.”
He sucks in a shuddering breath, hands gripping the base of his cock.
It’s slow, the way he grazes his teeth over his lower lip. “S’that how you wanna pay me, yeah?”
“All I’ve thought about,” you reply, a soft smile greeting him. “Lemme ride you—wanna look at you, wanna watch you come, baby.”
Fuck. He doesn’t fight it.
Instead, letting you guide him, allowing you to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw when he kneels on the bed and groans—because it’s been a long day, querida; he’s not as young as he once was.
“Still know how to be good, though. Don’t you?” you smirk, open mouth leaving a trail down his neck, eyes flicking up when you leave one in the space above his heart.
Hands behind his head, admiring, doing nothing but watching you place your thighs on either side of his as your fingers wrap around his wrists. You pin him, pressing down—aching cock ignored, left to leak against his hip as your lips press to his, over and over, and over until he’s chasing for the feel of them when you pull back.
You only offer a gentle, "I missed you," against the air before you're lining him up, bearing down, sinking, taking him in as he paints a groan against your collarbone.
There’s a beat, maybe two.
Stillness, enveloped entirely by your walls as his mouth wraps itself around your breast, leaving it wet, coated in spit as he groans when you begin to move. Setting a rhythm, slow.
“Not rushing this, Frankie.”
He never wishes you to.
His hands gripping your hips, guiding you. Head falling back onto the sheets as his breath hitches, the sight of you atop him, breasts bouncing—owning him—is a sight he could never grow tired of. One he also never feels worthy of—but he won’t squander, won’t ruin.
Because you’re perfect, head to toe—pussy made for him as it strokes up and down and breaths leave your mouth in short pants.
“Y’so good to me, Frankie. So handsome.”
And he wants to tell you that it's you who is so good—who is nothing but colour in an otherwise grey world. That you’re sunshine and stars, moon and so much more goodness than he can list buried inside of you.
“Go on, querida,” he grunts through clenched teeth, hands squeezing your hips a little tighter as you move a little faster.
As you take a little more. It makes your eyes flutter, parts your lips—watching in nothing short of awe as you use him, as you lose yourself in the moment.
"That's it, just let go. Make yourself feel good.”
It’s something majestic when he sees you nearing release—when he feels you clench and flutter.
“Feels good, y’feel good inside me baby.”
“You need more?”
And you nod.
The green light—the sign—and he doesn’t wait a moment.
Just canting his hips up, making a rush of pleasure spread up his spine. He’s lightheaded, hot—practically dizzy with how good you feel enveloped around him.
The noises filling the air, your slick walls taking him and the sound of skin slapping against skin. It’s drowned by the noises he pulls from you, making a mess of you as your lust-blown eyes land on him.
It almost steals his breath. Thieves it.
Because you’re so pretty, wild—a fucking dream on top of him. All soft and shimmering with perspiration from how good you ride him as he’s bathed in whines, moans and cries of his name.
“You're perfect,” he says, hand clamping on your hip as he shifts, and angles himself before thrusting up into you—watching your eyes squeeze shut. “From your smile to your tight pussy. You know that?”
Studying you as you try to keep the same rhythm. But, you’re nearing your climax—nails digging into his shoulder and neck, half-moons etched there, and he hopes they take hours to disappear.
“Thought about you all week—”
You moan, eyes meeting his. “Thought about you too—missed you. Missed how good you make me feel.”
“Fucked my fist to the thought of you like this. Never thought—fuck—I’d come home to this, baby. Y’fuckin’ perfect.”
Your chin lifts, neck elongating as he spreads his palm across your side, fingers pressing, grasping.
“Love hearing how much you missed me,” he smirks, watching you—thinking nothing but revolving thoughts as to how pretty you look, what a picture you are on top of him—
Then he hears a slam. Heavy boots. A voice he'd rather not hear at all:
“Fish? You home?”
He stops, realisation slamming into him.
A hand drops to the bedsheets, grasping them so hard his knuckles pale, and throb—the bones in his hand aching as he fights shouting and blowing his load right there and then.
The plans he’d made—the ones he’d put into place because you weren’t supposed to be home—all coming back to bite him. How he hadn’t wanted to spend another night alone, another evening in front of the television until you could call and tell him about your day—when he should have. He really fucking should have.
And you’re frozen, hips halted in place—his other hand remaining on your waist, fingers digging in as you both tense, keeping movements paused.
He considers it, the two choices he has and decides.
Leaning more against you—half-grinning, whispering shh as you look at him full of alarm—suddenly aware of the impending actuality that you could be caught like this.
And, then you clench around him. He feels it. Head tilting and eyes narrowing as he takes you in.
"Dirty girl," he mouths, and you look bashful, shy—a look he rarely sees when you’re split open on his cock and the base of him is covered in your slick.
“Fish, where the fuck are you?”
“Getting changed Ben, be a min.”
Your pussy flutters around him at your shout, as he moves to not shout the words towards your ear—feeling you clamp down, muffling a whimper. Another falls as he lifts up further onto his palm, dragging his nose down the valley between your breasts.
He knows you’re close—teetering, a few more thrusts and you’d have unravelled.
Dropping his voice, low—barely above a whisper, “Shh, baby. Or, I won’t let you finish.”
“Fuck,” you hiss. “Can‘t, Frankie—I can’t.”
He nods, finger and thumb holding your chin because he knows you can. Seen you do so much, and been witness to what you’re capable of—before his hand guides your hips to begin moving, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hips.
“Touch yourself for me, querida. Be good for me.”
And you whimper, something akin to his name.
But he’s guiding his mouth away, shouting, “Beers in the fridge, Ben.”
His mouth presses to your chest, hearing the shout from his friend back, but it’s the sound of your fingers on your slick and swollen clit that he tunes into. That he wants to flood his ears. Watching you shiver, shake, tremble from it as you tighten around him, choking his cock as he begins to thrust in and out.
He could keep you here. Should do too.
One week has already been too long. A need to make up for it—to have you pay for all the times you ask him those questions you wait until the lights are usually out for and he’s about to tip over to sleep; have you press yourself against him, nudging your ass into him as you cuddle, but really you want his mouth between your thighs. He should edge you, hang you over the edge of pleasure and watch your eyes dig into him until your lips whisper the word beginning with P.
But he won’t.
Couldn’t.
He likes knowing he pleases you too much.
Your moan bringing him back to it. Seeing how your eyes are clenched shut, trying to keep it behind your teeth. Failing, expletives dropping in breaths before he raises his hand, pressing it to your mouth, muffling it, the moans you have to release before you shake your head and fold into him.
Suddenly, he wants to move the dresser and lock the two of you in here. Wants to let them watch whatever fucking sports they want out there, and him just watch you in here.
You’re his favourite sight, after all. Especially like this. Free, not overthinking or worrying, just present, feeling as good as you should—as good as he always wants you to feel.
And you deserve this.
Hearing the low please fall before he plants his feet down, angling his cock up into you as you let out a muffled gasp. His palm flat to your shoulder, steadying you, as he feels your fingers slide it to your collarbone, resting it, fingers an inch away from the base of your neck.
You flick your eyes open—smothering him in permission, in radiant sunshine and lust, before the softest fucking smirk graces your lips—as his own mouth chokes out your name.
“Not tonight.”
It’s less words, and more a noise.
Because he’s close too—it having risen close to the top. Toes clenched around the sheets, digging in.
But he wants to feel you come first. And it’s there—that familiar sign. Lashes fluttering, gorgeous mouth going tight, slack as you tighten around him, locking up, clamping down as your hips move sloppily and out of rhythm.
You’re so fucking close.
“Shh, be good for me.”
Fingers, trembling and weak, slide around the base of his neck, tugging on his curls that are likely slick with sweat.
“N‘gonna last—let go for me baby.”
“Please.”
“Come for me.”
Spearing up into you with more vigour as you rasp, groan, and hiss—spit coating his fingers as he slides them out, dropping his hand from you as his knuckles press to the mattress as he fucks up into you.
Your body bucks, a cry you bury into his neck—a drag of nails against his scalp—as you come undone around him. Convulsing. Muffled cries vibrating against his pulse.
Frankie is barely able to contain the low growl as his hips stutter—heat raging through him, joined by rabid electricity. It sparking, ripping through, making him both ache and feel alive.
The sight of you and the feel of you drives him to the edge—and then over. A grip on your hip all tight as he thrusts into you one final time, unable to contain the growl. His chest heaves as he spills inside of you, and you tremble against him—panting, all messy and boneless as he pulls you with him as he rolls onto his back.
"You're incredible," he breathes into your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck.
You let out a small laugh, a soft, content sigh escaping your lips. "So are you."
He smiles against your skin, his heart swelling with affection. He may have assumed he'd seen everything, but you—you continue to surprise him, to captivate him in ways he never thought possible. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
Pulling his mouth from yours, feeling you ease him out of you, his hand lightly slaps you on the back of your bare ass.
"I missed you, querida," he murmurs, heart still racing in his chest.
Meeting his gaze, your lips purse. "I know," you whisper, leaning in to capture his lips in a tender kiss. "I'm here now."
“Shame you’ll have to sneak out the back and come in through the front door. Otherwise, you’ll be in here all night—”
His words trail off, a sly grin tugging at his lips as it dawns, rises up over your face and makes your mouth fall open. “Francisco….”
“Shoulda' told me you were coming home. It's boys night.”
Narrowing your eyes, you tick your jaw—spine straightening. “Well, I could stay in here—like this…”
Smirking, he kisses your nose. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby.”
Your mouth opens, a smirk gracing his lips in response as he raises a finger to his mouth, moving and pressing a kiss to your knee. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
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462 notes · View notes
babygirl-riley · 5 months
Note
Hi can i please request something where simon and his wife find out one of their kid's friends has abusive parents so they decide to adopt them😢💔
Guardian Angels
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You noticed it, the bruise, the way the little girl would ask things. So when you brought it up to Simon, immediate action came through
A/N: OH MY HELL, this hurts a lot. But I am so glad that the child will have a safe and loving home. My heart HURTS!
Hope this is something that was worth waiting for! 😌
Warnings: mentions of abuse, physical abuse, neglect abuse, childhood trauma, child abuse, angst, trauma, PURE FUCKING DEPRESSION, fluff, wife!reader, husband!simon, swearing
simon x reader guide
simon x reader family
You froze, your blood turning ice cold, your heart breaking. You noticed a small scratch on the child, when you lifted their shirt it was worse. “I got into the snacks. Daddy didn’t like it.” She whispered holding back the tears.
You inhaled deeply feeling the shake of it. You never would believe it. No way someone would hurt a 6 year old child. The puzzle pieces started to form together, the way that she would flinch whenever you would lift a finger. The way she would be shocked about handing her a snack. A small snack anything. It made your heart break even more knowing that there were signs.
“What about your mom? Where is she?” You asked softly putting her shirt down.
She looked away from you. “I don’t know.”
You looked into her beautiful blue eyes. God a child. You nodded and told her that she was spending the night, that you would talk to her dad. Luckily her dad approved acting like nothing was going on. You noted that you would drop her off the next day. You called Simon right after that.
“I’m almost done here sweethear.’ Do you need me to pick anything up for dinner?” He asked sweetly right when he picked up.
It was silent on your end. Making him perk up a bit. Until he heard the sob. A sob that he never heard before, he adjusted himself. “What’s wrong,” He asked softly but with concern. When you kept quietly sobbing he started to pack up. “I’m comin’ home.”
“Okay…I will tell you when you get here.” You choked out in more sobs. Trying to get yourself together, hearing little footsteps pattering outside your bedroom door.
“Mummy,” Your daughter said through the door. “Lilli and I want pizza! Can we get pizza!”
“Of course hun, one second mommy is in the phone. I will let daddy go grab some!” You said back in which you heard little cheers before the footsteps sprinted away. “Grab pizza.”
“‘lright then I will be home soon. I love ya.” He whispered feeling more concerned.
The girls were excited to see Simon coming in with pizza. Your daughter running to him squeezing his leg, giggling when he moved his leg up to walk forward as she clinged harder. You looked over at Lilli who stood in the corner waiting for him. She just watched as he placed the pizza down on the counter then looked up at you.
“Is it okay I can eat?” She mumbled. You nodded and knelt down.
“You can always eat here sweet girl.” You whispered as her face beamed running over to your daughter.
Simon looked over at you as he placed pizzas on plates. You still stood in the hallway, hugging yourself. He looked down at Lilli. “Here Lills use both hands, go sit with Millie. Y/n and I will join soon yeah?”
She cautiously and gently grabbed the plate from him. “Thank you.” She whispered before sprinting to sit next to Millie.
Simon came and kissed you softly. “Let’s go to the room.” He mumbled before you followed him in.
Right when the door shut the sob came out. Simon quickly grabbed you pulling you into a hug. “Love, what’s goin’ on?”
After a few quick breaths you spoke. Explaining everything, from the time he was out on his 3 month assignment and finding the bruises and cuts. Simon listened to every word, asking questions to make sure you knew what you saw. That it wasn’t just a kid being a kid.
Simon’s leg was bouncing hard up and down. You knew of his past, you knew saying these things would bring up memories of his that he tucks so far away from him, was coming to light. Simon stared at the wall for a moment, thinking. He knew the signs well, it was the same signs he gave when his father would beat him and his brother.
He thought about every scenario, the first one was to go to the bastards home and beat him until he saw god himself. Kill him and possibly have the team help cover it up. Make the man get the taste of his own medicine.
Simon thought about how tiny Lilli is, how quiet she would be when he would come around. It wasn’t for a couple months before she warmed up to Simon. Loved playing with him when his daughter would invite for a tea time. Would always sit on the other side of him when watching movies. It was like she was a Riley.
Simon thought of the time when he was her age. The things his father would do to him. “Do you think he ever…”
“Let’s not think that,” He said quickly shaking his head. You nodded and sighed he knew you were worried about him too. The way you waited and watched him. “We have to get her out.” He said darkly, trying to pull himself together. “Now. Not tomorrow now. We get pictures we get everything that we need to take it to the police.”
“How? I just don’t know what to do for tomorrow. These things take time what if…” You started to say before trailing off.
“Laswell,” Simon said standing up quickly. “I’m calling Laswell.”
Two years, it had been two years since that incident happened. It took months before having your daughter have her best friend become her sister. However, papers took longer than expected but court said that both of you can take her in, unless things changed. It made both you and Simon nervous. “We will keep goin’ day by day until we find out yeah?” Simon said comforting you as you shared your thoughts of how long it was taking.
But today was different, giggling and happy screaming echoing through the house. It was Lilli’s birthday, friends of her came and your family. Balloons and decorations plastered the home. Presents lined up neatly on a table as everyone talked to one another. The kids playing with each other.
You watched as Lilli and Millie played together with their cousins. You smiled as you placed some plates down to some guests. You felt a hand gently grab your shoulder. “Do ya have a second.’” Simon asked as you connected eye contact. When you nodded yes, he said he would meet in your shared room. You walked yourself up as you waited. When you heard the door open Lilli and Millie were with Simon.
“Daddy I was havin’ fun.” Millie groaned as she came next to you.
Simon smiled as he looked at both Lilli and Millie. You noticed his eyes were red. You frowned as you thought of the worst. “I wan’ to do this privately. Mum doesn’ even know,” He grabbed an envelope on his dresser looking at you and handing it. “Read it love.”
You curiously grabbed the envelope and grabbed the paper inside. You gasped as you clasp your hand on your mouth looking at Simon whose lips trembled. “What’s wrong?” Lilli’s voice said quietly. “They said no huh.” Looking away and Millie grabbed your leg about to cry.
Your heart broke but soon swelled when Simon knelt down to her. Gently placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, with tears in her eyes. Simon’s heart raced in excitement. Love. Relief. He heard his voice crack as he tried to say something. Then inhaled deeply. “No Lills you are now Lilli Riley. You are our babygirl now. Ya staying here forever.”
Lilli gasped as she looked up at you then at Simon. “Really! Thank youtha kyouthankyou!” She started crying as she wiped her eyes constantly.
Simon chuckled and nodded as he cried with her rubbing her shoulder. Millie yelled in joy and ran to her. “Lilli! Lilli! We can have forever sleepovers!”
Lilli giggled as she hugged Millie jumping up and down with her. You looked down at Lilli’s birth certificate and adoption papers. Stating that indeed Lilli is now yours. You looked at Simon as he wiped his eyes before looking at you smiling. Before he said anything he was tackled by the girls, the three of them laughing as they hugged.
“Mum come on!” Millie yelled as Lilli came to grab your hand to lead you to both Simon and Millie.
You went on the ground as both you and Simon hugged the girls. Your girls.
736 notes · View notes
thepastdied · 1 year
Text
Some Fun
eddie munson × fem!reader smut
Summary: You are Dustin's cousin and meet Eddie for the first time. Things get hot.
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Loud laughter erupted from the dining room, echoing throughout the Henderson home and up the stairs.
Your eyes snapped open, frantically looking around.
"What the hell.." You murmered.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and stretched. It was just about 6pm, though still fairly bright out on this summer day, and the sky glowed a beautiful orange that poured through your bedroom window.
You'd just gotten back from college over on the East Coast. Every summer you come back to your aunts house, where you will stay for the next few months before returning back to your university. She was like a mother to you. And Dustin, Dustin was like a brother.
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You kicked the covers off of you and swung your legs off the side of the bed before slumping over to your dresser. You'd regretfully overslept, your nap only meaning to be a couple hours, and now felt more tired than you did after finishing those chores this morning.
You changed out of your sweaty clothes and pulled on some pajama shorts, a tank top, and fixed your hair. More laughter came from the first floor, and you scrunched your eyebrows. Mike is so obnoxious..
Your feet padded against the hard wood floor of the hallway as you made your way downstairs.
"Hey." You threw an effortless greeting at the kids without looking up.
You sighed and went into the kitchen to get a glass from the cupboard. Your eyes flickered over to the dining room, the table half in view, to see the boys who've grown up far too quickly chuckling with one another.
Lucas so happened to look over and smiled as he gave you a small wave. Mike noticed, and so did Dustin, causing them all to turn around.
"You look like a fucking zombie." Mike cringed at you.
Your jaw dropped as you scoffed and shook your head.
"Well, I did sleep for literally 4 hours." You pointed out.
"Thought atleast one of you little shits would have woken me up so I could get you dinner". You added in annoyance before moving to the fridge.
You rummaged around before finally retrieving the lemon you'd been looking for and moving back into the boys' view.
"Well, Eddie already ordered us pizza since you were too busy sleeping," Dustin said.
"Child neglect." Mike just had to throw at you, causing you to mouth a 'shut the fuck up' in his direction.
"Wait, who?" You raised an eyebrow at them as you grabbed a knife from the drawer.
A head appeared out from behind the wall, scaring the living hell out of you and causing you to almost throw your knife.
"JESUS FUCK! You scared- oh, wow, hi" You stared at the brown eyed boy who had a silly grin on his face and instantly blushed. 'oh wow' Really!?
He snorted out a laugh as he stepped forward, a heavily ringed hand sticking out in front of you.
"I, my lovely maiden, am Eddie. Eddie the Banished." His eyes flickered down at your body before locking back onto yours. "My last name is actually Munson.. not Banished."
The boys began to talk with one another again and you were grateful, considering you were making a complete fool out of yourself.
You reached forward to grab his hand as you shyly laughed.
"I'm.." You blinked a couple of times. His eyebrows raised and disappeared into his fluffy bangs in anticipation. You somehow forgot your name.
"-y/n." You blurted out.
He grinned widely, revealing his perfect teeth and deep smile lines, head lightly bowing as he held your hand before letting go.
"Well, we were just about to throw a movie on - if you wanted to join." He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and puffed his chest out.
You slowly nodded a few times, the gears in your brain having trouble working properly.
"This is a scary movie we are talking about, I hope?" You tilted your head in question.
"Is Children of the Corn scary enough for you?" He leaned his tall frame against the wall, one leg crossing over the other coolly.
You bit the inside of your cheek. Scary movies never really got to you. But if you get to sit next to him then.. suddenly, you find this movie terrifying.
"I should be able to hold myself together." You smirked up at him.
You turned around to go back to your task of cutting up the lemon for your water. Eddie didn't move an inch and instead raked his eyes down your body. You glanced over to him, his eyes fixated on your bare thighs. You cleared your throat.
"I can meet you guys in the living room?" You spoke without looking at him. You didn't want him to feel flustered about you catching him staring.
"Y-yeah, sure." He clumsily scurried to where the kids were.
You released a long breath and held your aching chest as he disappeared into the other room.
×
Eddie gave the kids pizza while you went to grab blankets for everyone. The larger couch in the living room has a pullout bed where the three boys stayed huddled together with the large pizza box in the center. You found it adorable, just like the old days.
"You need help up there?" Eddie calls up the stairs.
Your tongue sticks out from between your lips as you stretch your arms as high as you can to reach the top shelf of the closet.
"I'm- shit..!" Your fingers graze the corner of the blanket before your toes give out, and you slumped back onto your feet.
Eddie reaches the top of the stairs just as you slap your hands to your side in defeat.
"Please.." You sigh as you wipe the sweat from your forehead.
He chuckles and (unnecessarily) walks behind you, his chest pressed against your back as he easily grabs the blanket and tosses it over your head. You flail your arms and bunch it into your chest, sending him a playful glare, your hair messy and in your face.
"Eddie the Banished is about to really get banished." You lean forward and narrow your eyes as you blow the stray hairs out of your face.
"You are gonna banish me? Sweetheart, I'd like to see you try." He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and wiggles his eyebrows.
"Oh my god, what does that even mean?" You slap his arm at his supposed dirty remark.
He holds where your hand made contact and throws himself against the wall, sliding down until he is a heap on the floor.
"No- no! Please! Don't banish me- I'll do anything!" He pleads as he grabs your ankle.
Your hand covers your mouth as you giggle at his over the top theatrics. He is fucking insane..
"Eddie.. get off the floor." You shake your head in disbelief.
"That's what you want me to do? I was hoping it would be something more like... you know-" He pauses his pleas and whispers.
"Wha- Eddie, get up!" You reach down and grab his arm, as if that will do anything.
He wears a mischievous smile as he stands and shakes his hair. You close your eyes and breathe out before walking past him to go downstairs. The boys didn't seem to notice either of you were gone and as you rounded the corner to the living room Eddie grabbed your arm.
"Hey, you should sit with me." His eyes flicked between yours, nervous that you'd say no.
You nodded your head and continued to the living room, blinking a few times as you see each of the boys already had their own blanket.
"Where did you get those?" You pointed to each of them.
Dustin looked at you as if you were stupid and pointed go the door on the opposite side of the living room. "The closet."
You stared blankly as they continued their conversation and looked at Eddie. His tongue was in his cheek as he stared back smirking and patted the cushion next to him on the empty couch. A wave of anxiety hit you as you approached him and slumped down. Eddie came upstairs after you. He must have known the kids already had blankets. You stilled when his thigh touched yours as he spread his legs.
Dustin shut the lights and started the movie, the entire room being enveloped in darkness.
You looked down at Eddie's legs and felt your heartbeat thump in your chest.
And Eddie, he was looking at your crossed legs and didn't miss the way they were clenching together.
The past thirty minutes have felt like an eternity. You were practically dripping into your shorts.
Your eyes shot down as Eddie moved one of his hands to his thigh and rubbed his palm against his rough jeans, slowly working his fingers toward you. You jumped when his fingertips barely grazed the outside of your thigh. He turned his head to look at you as he did it again, watching your chest rise as you took in a sharp breath. You let him put his whole hand on your thigh and leaned your leg into the touch. His hair tickled your shoulder as he grazed his lips against your ear.
"Is this okay, sweetheart?" He rubbed his thumb in circles and moved his hand slowly toward the inside of your thigh.
You silently nodded and moved the blanket onto your lap, spreading your thighs just a little.
Eddie hummed as he sat upright again and looked over to where the kids sat. Your fingers grabbed his wrist before they were able to meet your pussy. He quickly looked at you, understanding your knowing look.
You sat like that for the remainder of the movie. His hand on your inner thigh and both of you excruciatingly horny, though unable to go further for obvious reasons.
"Welp. We're gonna go for a bike ride." Dustin stood up and stretched, the others following suit as he flicked the table lamp on. They began to grab the empty soda cans from the side table.
"A bike ride now? It's going on 8pm -"
Eddie ripped his hand from your leg and stood up, discreetly fixing himself in his pants.
"We can clean up here, shoo shoo. Be back in an hour so we can watch another movie, the night is still young my sheepies!" Eddie shooed them away with his hands and pushed them out the door, each of them giving eachother puzzled looks.
You stood from the couch as Eddie came back into the room and began throwing the trash away while he moved the remaining pizza to the kitchen. There was so much tension that it was unbearable.
"So.." He started. Geez.. now it's even more awkward.
You really, really needed him. Anything from him.
You raised an eyebrow at him as he moved to sit on the couch again, roughly patting his lap. "Come here."
You shifted on your feet and rung your fingers together. The way your legs rubbed together made you want to moan- that's how desperate you were.
He spread his legs out and licked his bottom teeth as you stood in front of him. You put your hands on his shoulders as you moved to straddle his lap.
"Fuck.." He breathed out as his hands gripped your waist and pulled you tighter to him.
You turned your head in embarrassment of the situation.
"Hey-" He moved one hand to your jaw.
"Look at me." Eddie's voice was soft. You did as he said.
"Would it be cool if I like.. kissed you?" He asked before he pursed his lips and scrunched his eyes shut. As if you'd say no?
You giggled at his bashfullness as your hands moved from his shoulders to his chest.
He opened one eye to peek at you and then shut it again to shake his head in a giddy manner.
"Eddieeee.." You whined.
He opened his eyes and lightly laughed before leaning forward and brushing his nose against yours. You smiled when his breath touched your lips, causing him to laugh. He mumbled an apology before moving one hand to the back of your neck and drawing you into a soft kiss. You pulled apart for only a second before he roughly pulled you flush into him, your gasp being silenced by his mouth.
Eddie's fingers raked down your back and to your ass, gripping you hard and moving his hips up into you. You moaned and rolled your hips. He tore his mouth from yours and let his head fall back, his hair dangling over the back of the couch as you sat up.
"Holy fucking s-shit" He moaned with an open mouth and then clenched his jaw as he groaned.
You throbbed when you saw his neck muscles tense up. His chest was hot under your hands as you trailed them down to his pelvis, where you snaked your fingers under his shirt. Your hips ground into him, his jeans giving just the right amount of rough friction to throw you over the edge. His fingers tightened on your ass when you leaned down, tits pressing against his chest, as you latched your mouth onto his neck. You moaned as you felt your slick gush against your panties.
"Woah that.. that's f-fucking good." Eddie shivered as you licked and sucked up his neck to behind his ear.
His dick was rock-hard under you as you rolled your hips against it. Eddie moved his hands in between your bodies as you continued to devour his neck, his breath quaking while he fumbled with his belt and undid his jeans.
Only the thin layer of his boxers was keeping his raw dick hidden from you. You sat up and wiped the saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand. Eddie's head remained on the back of the couch as he rolled it to the side to look at you. His hair was pushed back on one side revealing the dark marks you left on his neck. He probably has no idea. You smirked.
You palmed him through his boxers and could feel the wetness of his precum seeping through. He groaned from his throat and bucked his hips up into your hand.
"Please.." He breathed out, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed.
You quickly stood up and removed your shorts, keeping the panties, before sitting back down. Eddie's mouth hung open while he watched your every move.
You positioned your clothed pussy over him and lightly dragged it along his boxers. You sighed in pleasure as the warmth of his dick met your pussy. You felt your slick slide between your folds as you pressed into him, letting your head fall back as you moaned his name.
"Y-you're.. oh god, you're so wet. You're gushing I can f-feel it." He pulled his head up and looked down where your bodies met. Your juices were seeping out of your panties and onto his covered dick.
"Wanna cum on you.." You mumbled, entire body heating up.
Eddie laughed from his throat and frantically nodded.
"And you will, baby. You're gonna fall apart just f'me, huh?" He put one hand back on your ass and another down to your pussy, running his fingers along the outside of your panties. "Fucking soaking.."
He held his hand in front of your face, sticking his glistening fingers together and separating to show the strings of your slick. Both of your breaths were hot and shallow as you continued to grind into him.
"Mm.. never tasted pussy before." He brought his fingers to his mouth and stuck his long tongue out, licking a long strip along his fingers as his dark eyes bore into yours and he moaned at the taste.
"Oh my god-" You choked out a moan and your nails dug into the skin of his waist as you began to roll your hips faster.
"Shit shit shit shit-" Eddie gasped and sat up, holding you by your waist and meeting his hips with each of your movements.
He mouthed at your collarbone and shamelessly moaned as you tangled your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck. His teeth grazed your skin before he lightly bit down and messily kissed a trail up to your mouth. You bit and licked into eachothers mouths.
"Fuck yeah, just like that." He moaned into your mouth as your fast pace brought both of you closer to cumming. "Wanna-" He grunted as his movements stuttered. "Wanna come with you, sweetheart."
"Mhm.. mhm I'm close. R-really close." You kissed him deeper as he got more sloppy, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you against him while another hand came to grab your face. His tongue was almost down your throat, not that you were complaining. You tore away from him and babbled incoherently, head falling slack to your shoulder as your hips jerked against his as you reached your high. A loud cry rang throughout the room as you arched your back and fisted his hair tighter, legs beginning to shake with over stimulation.
"Okay.. woah that's hot -kay.. okay, okay, okay- FUCK." He let out a long guttural moan as he flopped backwards onto the couch.
Spurts of warmth spread from underneath you, both of your juices mixing together. Your chest heaved as you looked him over. He panted as he looked at you, his hair wild and splayed out across the back of the couch, some sticking to his cheeks, and his face flushed and sweaty. He gulped and wiped his face with the sleeve of his Hellfire shirt.
"C'mere.." Eddie motioned you closer, smiling like a complete dope while trying to catch his breath.
You layed on him and breathed out a relaxed sigh as he kissed the side of your head.
"Next time.. maybe we could go in my room?" You speak quietly against his chest, his heart thumping loudly in your ear.
"Next time!? Goddam.. you'll be the death of me, baby. Of course." His chest vibrated at he spoke, belly shaking when he laughed.
You sat up enough to look at his face.
"So you liked it then..?" You leaned in and pecked his lips.
"Seriously?" He grinned widely, just as he did when you first met only hours ago.
"That.. was fun. Shit."
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