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bitchesuntitled · 3 months

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Memories

Summary: What happens when your husband, Dieter, forgets who you are?

Warnings: 18+ minors get outta here! Cursing, fluff, smut, feel good, oral(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), probably not like realistic medical knowledge but it’s fiction 🤷‍♀️

A/N: Thank you so much @papipascalispunk for editing. @jay-zzle for the idea AND the mood board 😍❤️ I really liked writing this and had a lot of fun with it. Hope y’all like it! @schnarfer(it's here!)

Masterlist||AO3 Link

“Wait, who said we can’t have fruit bars anymore?” you ask, turning from the pantry to look at your seven year old daughter, Luna, sitting at the kitchen island.

“Daddy,” Luna states matter of factly, “He said that it’s fake food and we should only eat organic stuff.”

“Yeah, we need organic food,” your son Leo pipes in from the seat next to her. At three years old, he is currently in the copy everything big sister says or does phase.

“So, what do you want as a snack in your lunch box then?” you ask, raising your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

“Uhhh… banana?” Luna shrugs, “Daddy wasn’t very specific on what I should eat instead.”

“Okay but get your breakfast eaten before your cereal gets soggy,” you say, pointing at both before starting on the dishes.

Of course Dieter would be the one to tell the kids not to eat certain foods. The man scolds you every time he sees your Bluetooth headphones – droning on and on about the effects it’ll have on your brain waves and how it’s going to damage your mind. Your relationship with Dieter was a bit of a chaotic whirlwind, meeting randomly on the set of one of the movies he starred in, one your friend was working on the set of.

“Well, hello there,” Dieter had said, standing next to you by the craft table. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Excuse me?” you asked, looking around to see who he was actually talking to.

“Or should I walk by again?” he said with a smile.

“Is that how you get all the girls?” you asked, picking up a piece of cheese and pointing it at him, “Because that shit was pretty cheesy if you ask me.”

“No, trying something new,” Dieter said, cracking up into a giant fit of laughter. “Sorry, sorry. That– yeah, that was pretty good.”

“Bravo needed on set!” someone with a headset shouted in the distance, frantically waving at him.

“Guess that’s my cue,” he sighed, “Hope to see you ar– wait, what’s your name?”

You introduce yourself and he takes your hand, kissing the back of it.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said, repeating your name and winking, “Hope to see you around.”

That was the conversation that started it all nearly eight years ago. Within the first year of knowing Dieter, you were married and pregnant – and no – it wasn’t a shotgun wedding, as much as the tabloids tried to pin it as one.

“Dieter Bravo and Mystery Woman Seen Leaving Las Vegas Wedding Chapel”

“Dieter Bravo Expecting First Child with New Wife – Shotgun Wedding?”

“How Long Before Dieter Bravo Gets His First Divorce?”

You both just knew you were meant to be together. With the birth of Luna, he had sobered up completely. These days he hardly even drinks beer. It’s weird in a way, that he’s changed so much from who you first met, but still the same Dieter in every other aspect. Wild, spontaneous, creative, romantic, chaotic at times, and so loving.

–

“Good morning, my babies,” Dieter says, waltzing into the kitchen, giving each of his kids a kiss on the top of their heads.

“Hi, Daddy,” Luna and Leo exclaim.

“Hello, my love,” Dieter smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist giving you a sloppy smooch on the cheek.

“Ew,” Luna shouts, making gagging noises.

“Yeah, what Luna said!” Leo says, copying his older sister with fake gagging.

“Stop with the fake gagging,” he replies, looking at them, “You’ll make mommy sick.”

“Hi, babe,” you laugh, “Someone’s in a good mood this morning.”

“I want to start doing my own stunts like Tom Cruise,” Dieter explains excitedly, “And I think I’m going to crush it today! I’m supposed to scale a building, don’t worry, everything is going to be totally safe.”

“Seriously, Dieter?” you sigh, “You may say that it’s safe but I’m still going to worry – please be safe.”

Dieter gasps, putting his hand to his chest as if he were clutching a set of pearls. “Babies, I don’t think mommy trusts daddy!”

“Momma,” Leo laughs, perching up on the chair more, “Daddy be fine!”

“Yeah, momma,” Dieter says with a grin, “Daddy be fine.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, snorting and shaking your head, looking at your watch you realize you’re going to be cutting it close in getting Luna to school on time. “Shit!”

“Mommy,” Luna scolds, “You shouldn’t say bad words like that!”

“Luna, hurry up with your cereal or else you’re going to be late for school again,” you say as you turn to Dieter who is rummaging in the fridge for his own breakfast. “What time do you have to be on set?”

“In about an hour, get her to school. My favorite son and I will be fine here at home. If need be, I’ll tell the director that I’m going to be late. Family first,” he says, “Not like they’d fire me at this point. I’m the entire reason people are going to want to see this movie.”

“I love you so much,” you say, giving him a kiss before ushering Luna out the door.

“Love you too, baby!” Dieter shouts.

–

“I’m back,” you announce from the front door.

“That didn’t take as long as I expected,” Dieter chuckles, “I gotta get headed to the studio though.” He scoops Leo up into a tight hug, “We'll play superhero when I get back home, okay?”

“Otay,” Leo says, pouting.

“Poor baby,” Dieter coos and glances up at you with a smirk, “You sure you don’t want another one?”

“Dieter,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, “We’ve talked about this. If it feels right, then maybe, but right now? No.”

“Fine,” Dieter groans, “But the moment you think it feels right, tell me?”

“Promise,” you smirk.

Dieter tells Leo goodbye with the promise of playing superheroes when he gets back home. Your mind begins to wander back to Dieter’s question about another baby as you go about your chores. You start smiling thinking back to when you first decided to start trying for a baby – lying in bed together shortly after getting married.

“How many kids do you want?” Dieter asked, playing with the wedding band on your finger.

“I’d always imagined three honestly,” you smiled, “Why?”

“I want whatever you want,” he grinned, slotting himself between your legs again. “But if you wanted at least one I wouldn’t mind trying now.”

“D, we just got married a month ago,” you said, shaking your head, “Is that the only reason you married me? To have a baby?”

“Of course not, baby,” Dieter said, linking his fingers with yours and pinning them above your head, “I just know I really, really want them with you.”

“Oh yeah?” you whispered, tilting your head up to capture his lips. He moaned into your mouth, slowly grinding his stiffness against you.

“Yes,” he panted, breaking the kiss.

“Let’s do it then,” you said, nipping his bottom lip, “Fuck a baby into me, Dieter.”

“Fuck yeah, baby,” he groaned.

“Momma!” Leo shouts, pulling you from your thoughts, “Your phone.”

You had been so deep in the memory you didn’t even notice your phone ringing. It’s just Dieter, probably checking in to see how your day is going. He tends to do that while he’s on breaks at work.

“Well, hello, Tom Cruise,” you answer, giggling – except it isn’t Dieter on the other end.

Instead, you hear his assistant, Andy, saying your name before, “Dieter’s been in an accident. I’m almost to your house, I’ll watch Leo so you can go to Cedars-Sinai medical,” quickly spills out of his mouth, “It’s not good.”

–

It’s been two weeks that you’ve sat beside his bed in this damn hospital, waiting for him to wake up. The doctors are all hopeful that he’ll wake up at any minute, but it’s been two days since he’s been off the ventilator, and nothing has happened yet. The kids keep asking where their dad is, and you don’t have any other answer than he’s sick.

“Dieter,” you beg, holding onto his hand, “Babe, please wake up. We need you. Luna and Leo miss you – I miss you. Please just wake up.”

The nurse comes in to check Dieter’s vitals for the third time today. Since she’s keeping him company, you decide to head to the cafeteria to get some food, grabbing something simple before heading back to Dieter’s room. When you return, you notice a flurry of activity.

“Mr. Bravo, can you tell me what year it is?” a doctor asks, shining a small flashlight in his eyes.

“Of course I can, dumbass! It’s 2016,” Dieter snaps. “Now will you stop shining that light in my eye?”

“What’s going on?” you ask hesitantly.

“He woke up while you went to get food,” a nurse explains, “We’re trying to make sure mentally he’s with us.”

“Oh, for fuck sake!” Dieter cries out, “I’m fine, never felt better! There, she must be my new assistant.”

All eyes turn to you. This was a possibility the doctor had talked about before – temporary amnesia. Hopefully that’s all it is. The doctor motions you to follow him out of the room.

“He seems to have hit his head harder than we thought. In all honesty, I would try to play pretend with him for a little bit. Try thinking of things that might remind him of who he actually is today,” the doctor suggests. “I’m so sorry Mrs. Bravo.”

Dieter is having a conniption in the room while nurses are trying to calm him down. As you step back in, you see your husband frantically disconnecting and throwing the wires off of his body and onto the floor.

“Where the fuck is my assistant?” Dieter yells.

“Dieter, D, baby – Mr. Bravo!” you shout and Dieter immediately freezes, eyes wide as saucers. “You need to calm down before you hurt yourself.”

“What happened?” Dieter asks, looking around at everyone.

“We’ll give you guys some space,” a nurse says quietly while ushering the others out of the room. You grab the chair next to his bed and sit down, reaching for his hand but stopping yourself as you notice your ring. Right now, this isn’t your husband. This is Dieter Bravo who believes it’s the year 2016.

“You were in an accident, you hit your head pretty good,” you start explaining to him, “You’ve been in a coma for two weeks now.”

“So, who are you?” he asks, looking you up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I knew my team wanted to hire me a new assistant since things didn’t work out with the last one – didn’t realize they’d pick someone so hot. Would you wanna have sex with me?”

“Dieter, I don’t think you’re cleared for those types of activities,” you chuckle, “I’m here for whatever you might need though.”

“Can you get me my phone?” he asks with those puppy-dog eyes he does best.

“Sure,” you reach for your purse digging around and find his phone, handing it over to him. “The passcode is 332016”

“The fuck? Why would I change it from the classic 42069?” he asks, looking at you with confusion.

“It’s uh… an important day to you,” you say, looking away, not wanting him to see the tears forming in your eyes. The day you met.

“So, did I have an accident on set?”

“Yeah, you were scaling a building and the cable holding you snapped. You fell a good distance and smacked your head on the ground.”

“Wait,” Dieter says looking at his phone calendar, pointing it towards you, “Why does this say it’s 2024?”

“Because it’s not 2016,” you shrug, “It’s 2024.”

“How long have I been in a fucking coma?” Dieter asks, starting to panic again, frantically searching through the contacts in his phone, “Why can’t I find my dealer's number? I need coke. Wait, you’re my fucking assistant – go get me coke!”

“You’ve only been in a coma for two weeks and the only coke I’ll get you is Coca Cola,” you say crossing your arms, “I won’t let you have drugs in m– the house, Dieter.”

“Wait, my assistant lives with me?” he gasps, “You’re just supposed to come when I call you.”

“Different kind of assistant here.”

“Wait, I can’t have you in my house! I see that ring on your finger – I don’t want to get in between a marriage,” Dieter says, pointing at your left hand.

“It’s– it’s complicated right now,” you shrug.

“Fine, stay in my house, but stay out of my way,” Dieter sighs in frustration.

This is going to be a lot harder than you thought. He doesn’t remember who you are to him. He doesn’t remember getting clean when he married you. He doesn’t remember anything. Going home that night doesn’t help either because Luna wants to know what’s going on with her dad.

“Andy said that daddy woke up!” Luna says vibrating with excitement, “How come he’s not home?

“I had to leave him at the hospital because he’s still sick, honey.” You sit down on the plush couch in the living room, “Come here. I wanna talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” Luna hesitantly says, coming to sit next to you.

“Daddy is still sick. He looks fine but his brain is sick right now.”

“What’s that mean?” she questions, looking at you with the same eyes as her father.

“He doesn’t remember some stuff about his life right now,” you continue, “But we are gonna try to help him get it back. We have to think of the best memories we have with daddy so that maybe he’ll remember better.”

“So, we have to fix daddy?” she asks with tears in her eyes as you grab her into a hug, stroking her hair.

“Yeah, sweet girl, we have to fix daddy,” you say, trying not to cry yourself.

–

What was supposed to only be a few days turned into a week at the hospital. A week of playing Dieter’s assistant and having him boss you around. He was still adamant on getting drugs, but you put your foot down on that one. You weren’t going to let him ruin his seven years of sobriety just because he lost his memory.

“Alright Mr. Bravo looks like you’re all set to leave. Just need you to sign a couple of papers here and then you can be on your way,” the doctor says, handing him the papers.

“Fucking finally,” Dieter groans, “Not that this isn’t a wonderful hospital, but I’d much rather be home.”

“Of course,” the doctor says.

“Will you go ahead and bring the car around? I’d rather not walk too much considering my condition,” Dieter asks, looking at you.

“Of course, D– Mr. Bravo,” you grit through your teeth with the most customer service smile you can muster. That was a new development, Dieter wanting you only to refer to him as Mr. Bravo. You rush out of the room so that it doesn’t blow up into another argument. He’s already tried to fire you twice because of the no drugs thing. You had to make up some story of how you’re in a five-year contract that cannot be broken and tell him three times before he finally bought the story.

Pulling the car around to the front of the hospital, you see him being wheeled out.

“Thank you again so much for taking care of me,” he says, winking at the nurse, “Best care I’ve ever received!”

“No problem at all, Dieter,” she giggles.

“Could I possibly get your number?” Dieter asks, looking expectantly at the nurse after getting settled into the passenger seat of the car. She shakes her head violently.

“No, sorry,” she says before running off wheeling the wheelchair back into the building.

“Well, that was fucking weird,” Dieter says, looking at you. “Did I do something wrong? Most women don’t literally run from me like that.”

“No, Mr. Bravo, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you growl, “Nothing at all.”

You begin to play a song you hope might bring back some sort of memory of you. With all the hope you can muster you hit play and hear Clint Eastwood by Gorillaz, one of the songs you guys would listen to while you got high together. Dieter starts to chuckle listening to the song.

“What?” you snap at him.

“It’s just this song,” Dieter said grinning, “It reminds me of someone.”

“Oh?” you ask, trying not to pry too much hoping he’ll just continue talking.

“Yeah, I can’t remember what her name is, though. Good lay, that’s for damn sure,” he says, laughing a little, “All I remember is she wasn’t even in the business, she’d call me out on all my shit, and we would smoke weed together listening to this song a lot. I think that’s why I liked her. Wonder what she’s up to these days?”

“Oh um… who knows, maybe she’s still in town?” Your heart swells realizing he’s talking about you, that he remembers some remnants of you.

“No way!” Dieter says and sighs, “Way too fucking good for someone like me anyways. Probably found some nice guy, got married, has kids, the whole white picket fence shit and everything. She was way out of my league.”

Pulling up to the house you don’t even know what to say to him. He looks almost defeated in a way and then looks confused when he sees the front door opening.

“Oh no,” you whisper, watching Luna run to the car, “Dieter, wait here. Do not move!”

“Why the fuck are there children at my house?” he asks while you’re getting out, but you shut the door behind you, ignoring him.

“Luna, baby, I need you to go back into the house. Daddy’s sick, remember?” you say, trying to usher her back up the driveway.

“Mommy!” Leo shrieks, running to you.

“Fuck – I mean fudge,” Andy says, frantically running out to the driveway, “I was in the bathroom. She must’ve heard the car, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“The hell is going on here?” Dieter’s voice booms while getting out of the car, “I asked you why there are kids in my house.”

“Da–” Luna starts, but you cut her off.

“You two, inside. Now,” you say, ushering them towards Andy. Once they’re inside you whip around to look at Dieter standing by the car.

“You,” you snarl, walking towards him, “Screw what the doctor said. I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m not your fucking assistant so stop bossing me around. I’m your wife – those two are our children!”

“Wha–” Dieter stares at you with wide eyes, “D– DNA Test, I want a fucking DNA test!”

“Dieter, there isn’t a need for a DNA test because they’re your kids. I mean, did you even look at them?”

“Those are not my kids, they look Latino,” he argues.

“Dieter!” you yell, “You are Latino.”

“Oh, yeah,” he whispers, looking down. “So, you’re my wife?”

“Yes, Dieter, I’m your wife. I’m the girl that would get high with you listening to Clint Eastwood.”

“Wild,” he says looking at the house, the ground below him, the yard, anywhere but you “Wild.”

–

It’s been a week at home now, but Dieter is trying his hardest to regain his memory after you lay everything out on the table for him. You show him pictures of your Las Vegas wedding, your pregnancy photos, the kids’ births – he finally relents to the truth when you show him their birth certificates with his name listed under Father. Luna has been trying to show him drawings that she’s done for him, but nothing is working. Poor Leo just wants to play superheroes, but at just three years old, he doesn’t understand what’s going on at all.

One night, after you put the kids to bed, Dieter comes to your bedroom.

“What if we had sex?” he suggests.

“Dieter, I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” you groan, flopping onto the bed rubbing your eyes.

“I’m just saying, what if we did?” he shrugs, “Was just a suggestion, but I get it.”

“Come here,” you say, patting the spot next to you in bed. He reluctantly sits down next to you as you open your arms as an invitation. “How about we cuddle?”

He nods, setting his head on your chest. You can tell he didn’t know what to do with his hands because he’s so tense. You grab one of them and push it around your back, hoping he’ll understand your silent suggestion.

“Like this?” he whispers, carefully adjusting both arms to wrap around you.

“Just like that,” you hum, stroking the curls at the base of his neck, breathing his scent in for the first time in weeks. Clean laundry, a hint of eucalyptus, and something that’s so specifically Dieter.

“I like this,” Dieter purs, rubbing his head against your chest, “I wish so badly I could just remember everything.”

“I know D, I know,” you sigh, continuing to gently stroke his head, “We’ll get there.”

Dieter moves so his head is in the crook of your neck. You feel his lips begin to place soft kisses against your skin.

“Dieter,” you gasp, turning your head to look at him, “What are you doing?”

“I wanna make you feel better,” he says, giving you those puppy dog eyes you can never refuse. “You’ve had to deal with a lot and this is the only way I know how to try and make things right.”

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding your head. As much as you’ve avoided intimacy with Dieter while his memory was gone, he’s still your Dieter and you miss him.

He starts nipping along your jaw and down your neck. One of his hands moves to your breast gently kneading it. His lips move down your throat to your chest, making his way down to your stomach and pushing your shirt up. He places several kisses around your navel down to the top of your underwear, looking up at you again for confirmation. “It’s okay,” you nod, giving him the go ahead. He peels them off your hips and down your legs, throwing them to the floor.

Without warning he flattens his tongue, licking a stripe up your seam. Working his tongue against your clit and back down to your entrance. Up and down, up and down.

“Fuck, baby, I’ve missed this,” you cry out, running your fingers through his hair, “Feels so fucking good!”

Dieter starts humming, loving the praise you were giving him. His tongue continues circling your bundle of nerves, hoping to hear more words of praise.

“Taste so fucking good,” he says breaking away, “Best pussy I’ve ever had.”

You grip his hair tightly and shove his face back to your core. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you can feel your orgasm approaching.

“Please don’t stop,” you moan, “I’m so fucking close!”

Dieter doubles down his efforts after hearing those words. He’s determined to get you off now. One of his hands makes its way to your center, teasing your entrance before plunging two of his thick fingers inside, curling them up to hit that spot only he’s ever been able to reach.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, back arching, “Y– yes, just like that!”

He starts grunting, rutting into the mattress, so badly needing to make you come. He knows you’re close, listening to your breathing and hearing the pitch of your moans.

“D,” you moan, while he grabs your thighs, pulling you unbelievably closer to his face to completely devour you before sliding his fingers back into you. “I’m gonna come!”

“Give it to me, baby, come on,” he says, pulling away panting before diving back in for more, “I need it”. He feels the way your legs begin to shake, your walls fluttering around his fingers.

“Fuck,” you hiss, head thrown back against the pillow closing your eyes, “I– I’m gonna… god.”

Dieter feels your walls constrict around his fingers and hums, collecting your release slowly. He takes his time licking you clean before you push him away, feeling overly sensitive. When you finally open your eyes to look at him, you notice his smile and a glint in his eyes. He crawls back up the length of your body and you grab his face, kissing him deeply tasting yourself on his tongue.

“I can’t believe you married me,” he says, breaking the kiss and wrapping his arms around you again, “Love me forever?”

“Dieter, I’m pretty sure I’ve already proven that I’ll love you forever,” you softly chuckle, beginning to stroke his back.

–

The doctor keeps saying to just be patient, that it’s going to take time for Dieter’s memory to return. But it feels like it’s been forever as another week passes. Everyone is getting frustrated, especially Leo.

“Why is daddy broke?” Leo screams at the top of his lungs, “He no play with me!”

“Leo, Daddy just doesn’t feel good,” you try to explain.

“He no like me!” Leo wails, “He only likes Luna.”

“Leo, daddy does too like you,” you try telling him, “He loves you very much.”

“No,” Leo cries as you scoop him up as he buries his face into your shoulder.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” you soothe.

It wasn’t that Dieter wasn’t trying with the kids, he just didn’t know how. His dad instincts hadn’t been brought back full-force. He was great with Luna – engaged in conversation with her, drew pictures with her, watched her put on fashion shows. With Leo though, he didn’t know how to interact with a toddler. Leo would get upset and Dieter didn’t know what to do besides call you for help. Before Dieter’s accident Leo was his little buddy, followed him everywhere, would play with him for hours being superheroes or whatever Leo decided on that day.

You were able to get Leo to calm down and because of his tantrum he wound up falling asleep. After putting him in his bed for a nap you went to search for Dieter.

“Hey,” you sigh, seeing him standing by the window looking into the backyard.

“Hey,” he says sniffling, wiping his sleeve against his nose, “I’m so sorry.”

“Dieter, I’m not the one you should be saying sorry to. Leo misses you! I know that you’re trying, I do, but I need you to try harder for him,” you sigh, “I can’t pretend that I even know what you’re going through, but our baby boy is hurting because he misses his dad!”

“I know,” Dieter says turning around, you could now see the tears falling down his face, “It’s just… he scares me! It’s easier with Luna because I can understand every word she says, she can show me things, she doesn’t throw a tantrum every five minutes.”

“Dieter, he’s your son! Not some little monster to be scared of! He’s three and doesn’t know any better,” you scold him, “Like I said, I just need you to try.”

“Okay,” Dieter agrees, wiping the tears off his face, “When he wakes up from his nap, I’ll try.”

Dieter could hear Leo awake in his room as he slowly made his way there.

“Dad-Bomb an’ dude-bomb! To rescue!” Leo says, jumping off his bed with a cape around his shoulders. Dieter stands in the doorway observing him. Why did that sound so familiar? Dad-Bomb.

“Hey Leo,” Dieter says cautiously, “What are you playing?”

“Superhero,” Leo smiles, “Want to play with me?”

“Can I?” Dieter exclaims, “I’ve always wanted to be a superhero!”

“Yeah!” Leo shouts, running to his closet to grab something. He comes back out with a big purple cape with D-B on the back, handing it to Dieter. “Put on your cape.”

Dieter pulls the cape around his neck, tying it so it wouldn’t fall off. He notices Leo’s little green cape he was wearing also had D-B on the back.

“Do we have names, Leo?” Dieter asks, “I can’t help but see we have stuff on the back of our super-awesome capes!”

“I’m Dude-Bomb, you’re Dad-Bomb!” Leo gleefully exclaims

“Dad-Bomb?”

“Yeah, like ‘da-bomb’ – means super cool,” Leo giggles.This was starting to feel extremely familiar to Dieter.

Leo scampers off to his closet again, rummaging through it trying to find something. He comes back holding a piece of paper and hands it to Dieter. Dieter holds it up, staring at it. His drawing of Dad-Bomb and Dude-Bomb, fighting crime together, and it all comes rushing back.

“Oh my god, Leo,” Dieter yells.

He picks Leo up, swinging him around. Hearing the commotion, you start running towards Leo’s room fearing the worst. Rounding the corner into the room, you saw Dieter crying, hugging Leo tightly and swinging him back and forth.

“Dad-Bomb and Dude-Bomb!” Dieter exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah, that’s you an’ me!” Leo announces proudly.

“Everything okay?” you ask quietly, looking at both of them.

“Yeah. March 3, 2016 – that’s the day I met you,” Dieter says, tears rolling down his face.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “Baby.”

“Yeah, baby. It’s all back,” he says, setting Leo back down and rushing to grab you in a tight embrace, “I’m back.”

#fanfic writing #fanfiction #dieter bravo fan fiction #dieter bravo #pedro pascal characters #dieter x reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo x female reader #pedro pascal character smut #fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction

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leiswxrld · 1 year

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⎈⎈⎈

❥𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒… “what a fucking slut”

❥𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Tom Kaulitz x Black fem reader

❥𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Smut, P in V sex, angry sex, subby Tom low-key, dom reader 🤧, riding, oral (fem receiving), cum denial, strong language, Tom low-key a hoe and a red flag 🚩 luv him tho.

❥𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1102 words

❥𝐀/𝐍: knew I couldn’t go without writing a subby Tom 🫡, anyway inspired by an audio I listened to but it barley goes off the storyline of it.

Here’s the link to it: ‘Don’t slow down for me’

“I can’t fucking believe you” you yell, storming into your shared apartment and throwing your bag and keys onto the counter.

“Baby let me explain” Tom replied, chasing you up the stairs into your bedroom as he watched you slam and lock the bathroom door.

“Tom fuck off I don’t want to talk to you and I don’t want to have to listen to you find a bullshit excuse to tell me” you expressed, pulling down the toilet seat and sitting on it.

That night you had caught Tom flirting with a bimbo who had her hands all over him and obnoxiously laughed and giggled at anything Tom said which in return Tom reciprocated the flirting, his hand gently rubbing her thigh and making stupid jokes.

If you were near him for another second you’d swear you’d kill him.

“Baby please you can’t stay in there all night, let me explain what actually happened” he yelled from outside the door, you could hear his feet shuffling outside, probably finding a way to lie his way out of this one, which you were not going to let happen.

“Im not going to listen to you….you and that fucking bimbo can both kiss my ass” you aggressively yell back, feeling the tears well up and the aching pain in your chest rise. How could he do this to you, you had been going out for 2 months and you knew of Tom’s flirtish behaviour but you wanted to give him a chance to prove himself which he had clearly fucked up.

You decided to take a shower and get the night’s reminisce off your body. After, you wrapped your body in the long body towel and did you skin routine before carefully unlocking the door and walking into your room. Thankfully, you and Tom didn’t share a room since you had just started dating but you were now regretting moving into his place.

Changing into your nightwear, you get into bed and turn off the lights, shutting your eyes and letting yourself drift off to sleep.

Suddenly, you awake to a hot sensation between your legs that made your eyes nearly roll back. You feel something licking and sucking onto your clit as you moan lightly. Your hands fish to the bottom of the covers and pull on a few dreadlocks that you knew they belonged to.

Fuck.

You must have forgotten to lock the door to your room.

“T-tom fuck, I’m still pissed at you”

He mutters a “I know” the vibrations sending shockwaves to your core, your toes begin to curl and your legs shake profusely. “I know you want to cum for me baby, cum” you obey cumming all over his tongue as your arousal leaked down his chin and onto the bed sheets. He moaned lapping up the juices that threatened to spill out and continued to eat you out like a starved man.

You whimper, pulling harder on his locs before he came back up, mouth covered with cum. He brings his mouth to your lips and you put up a hand, “not so fast, I didn’t say you could kiss me” you say in a matter of fact as you roll the two of you over. “This is how it’s going to go, your going to watch me ride you till I’m satisfied and your not going cum cause’ you don’t deserve to”

He opens his mouth to say something but you silence him with your finger, “Not. A. Single. Word.”

You bring his tip to your entrance teasing him as you rubbed yourself against it, he tenses watching you as if he was intoxicated with lust. “Shit please y/n just slide it in”

You slap him.

“I said not a single word” you ferment and he groans, you slide yourself onto it until he bottoms out. You both moan, the overwhelming feeling of being full filling your insides, you begin to slowly ride him watching as his head lols back onto the bed frame.

Gradually your bouncing began to increase, the noises of skin slapping, being able to hear from next door. You moaned, the intense rush of adrenaline flowing through your veins. “Jesus- shit your so tight” he mumbled under his breath, watching your pussy take his dick.

You moved your hands to his shoulders and began to bounce on him like no tomorrow, he was moaning like a bitch in heat as he felt you getting close, “What a fucking slut” you say out of breath, pulling his hair with a tight grip.

Your bounces were never ceasing, becoming more intense, the headboard banging onto the wall behind him in a fashioned rhythm. “Just for you baby” he replied his eyes screwing shut and his hands balling into fists.

The sounds of yours moans mixing together sounded like music as Tom became more desperate and his voice got more hoarse, feeling himself about to come. “Please -fuck please let me come” he whimpered, his vision becoming blurred from the tears forming in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare come, this is a lesson for trying to be a whore and flirt with different girls” you reply gripping his hair so tight that he groans in pain, your moans became pathetic like those from a porn star, feeling that same feeling of an orgasm coming, grinding your hips into him.

His eyes rolled back, holding his orgasm that threatened to spill into you, your wall’s tightened around his thick cock, feeling yourself get closer,“fuck I’m cumming” you yell, before cumming all over his dick, your juices oozing down his length.

You continue to bounce until you gradually come to a stop, breathing raggedly and looking back at him. He looked at you confused, he hadn’t managed to come yet?

He watched you get off and sit beside him.

“But I didn’t get to-”

“Fuck off and get out” you say in a matter of 5 words, walking back to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

He deserved that.

#tom kaulitz x black reader #tom kaulitz x reader #x black fem reader #tom kaulitz #tokio hotel #reader #black reader smut #smut #leiscoven #leiswxrld

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spideyzgirl · 2 years

Text

that first kiss

summary: you and peter reminisce about your first kiss, but you both have very different takes on it.

warnings: fluff, a lil angst

pairing: tom!peter x reader

wc: 891

masterlist | taglist

“hey y/n, look at this.” peter beckoned you over, showing you his phone. it was a picture of you two together on your very first date.

“aw, look at us! that’s our first date, yeah? we were so cute.” you gushed. “is that the time we watched wonder? you cried your ass off at the end.”

“rightfully so. he made friends, and for the first time everyone accepted him.” peter said as he teared up.

“are we really doing this right now?” you sighed.

“he got a standing ovation.” he wiped a tear away and sniffled, clearing his throat when he noticed you trying to suppress your laughter.

“hey, do you remember our first kiss?”

“how could i forget it?” you shrugged. “it was so, uh…”

“sloppy.” you spoke.

“perfect.” peter said at the same time.

“wait, what? did you just say sloppy?” peter gasped.

“well, yes? you have to admit, it wasn’t our best.”

“i can’t believe this. after all this time, i’m just now hearing about this? i’m- i’m heartbroken, honestly.” he slapped his hands over his heart dramatically, flopping onto your shared bed.

“oh come on peter,” you giggled. “we were playing seven minutes in heaven. that’s like the shittiest way to have your first kiss.”

“i beg to differ. i think it was quite romantic, actually. we were so close, wrapped in each others warmth.”

“that’s my main point. we were cramped up in a small wardrobe. our breaths were turning it into a sauna. hot, sweaty, and steamy.”

“but it was comforting, right?”

“wrong.”

“it was so intimate. our bodies were literally pressed together.”

“yes, due to the lack of space. we couldn’t even breathe without our chests touching each others, which gave my boobs a great deal of discomfort by the way.”

“but i swear i heard angels singing. no wonder it’s called seven minutes in heaven.”

“those weren’t angels, that was me wheezing for air. we were suffocating, peter. i think we were trying to steal air from each others mouths when we kissed.” you laughed.

“i think you’re lying.” peter smirked.

“and i think you’re in denial. we’ve had better kisses and you know it.”

“that’s it. you’re on a kiss ban until you admit you liked our first kiss.” peter declared, sauntering off into the kitchen.

“what? you can’t do that!” you exclaimed, following him shortly after he left.

“can too! let’s see how long you can last before you break and tell the truth.”

“this is ridiculous. you think you can stop me from-“ you tried to steal a kiss swiftly, but his lightning quick reflexes had you kissing a cereal box.

“banned!” he shouted, fleeing to the bedroom.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

from morning to night, you’d been livid. you woke up to a sticky note on your forehead, a note scribbled in peters messy handwriting: sorry, had to leave early to be new yorks hero this morning. you missed out on your goodbye kiss since you wanted to be a naughty little liar last night <3

jerk.

you’d been waiting for him all day to get home, ready to chew him out for dragging this situation into the next day. it was funny at first, but now he had taken it too far. those morning kisses meant a lot to you. even when you were taken over by sleep, you were still aware of when he left a quick kiss to your forehead or cheek.

peter never really knew if you even felt the kisses or not, but he still did it anyway. it was the sweetest thing ever, and he took that away from you.

as he crept into the bedroom window, you entered the room at the same time, just finishing your skincare routine in the bathroom. you gasped upon seeing him and darted towards your bed, grabbing multiple pillows to throw at him.

“hey cutie, i’m back- hey!” he effortlessly dodged a pillow. “what the hell?”

“jerk! what kind of boyfriend deprives his girl of her morning kisses?” you threw another pillow at him, which he caught.

“i told you, you were on ban, but-“ you threw another pillow, hitting him right in his face. “really?”

“fuck your stupid ban! you took it too far. you’re so childish!” you fussed, tossing two pillows at him.

“says the one sending pillows flying all over the room. also, i never realized how many pillows we had.” he ripped his mask off and tossed it elsewhere.

peter gave you a sympathetic smile when he saw you doing that cute little “i’m upset but i want your attention” pout. “alright honey,” he walked over to you, engulfing you in his arms. “i’m sorry, okay? i didn’t know how much those morning kisses meant to you, and i didn’t really mean to drag this ban on for so long. so from this moment on, the kissing ban has officially been lifted. you are free to kiss. am i forgiven?”

“yes,” you pressed a long overdue kiss to his lips, humming when he ran a soothing hand over your back. “but never do that again. and don’t you ever leave me without my morning kiss again. you hear me?” you squinted at him, & he nodded.

“yes ma’am. and hey, was our first kiss really that bad?”

“i was wheezing for air. let that sink in.”

taglist 🏷️

@niallhoransupremacy @raajali3 @crazyknight @evermoresilk @hqllandxx @popeheywardssecretgf @sukiinet @luvhann @tellmeonce @tiredofc0ffee @saliciaknows @eatasockortwo @timotheechalametswife @fairydxll @lnmp89 @tomhollandsslut @chaostudee @ayle4231 @powerpuffluuvv @aurelie39 @eviewriites

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austinshotbutlers · 1 year

Text

The Wedding Date - Part Six

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: Your sister's wedding is approaching fast and the thought of showing your boyfriend off to you family and your ex-boyfriend seems like a very appealing idea. The only problem is... you don't have a boyfriend. Luckily your stony faced, serious, sexy boss has agreed to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend. What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 4.6K

TW: Swearing, smut (unprotected sex, oral F! receiving) and bad writing?

A/N: A lot happens on this chpater but I hope its nice and smooth to read 😬 but we’re finally at the last chapter!!! I hope you’ve enjoyed it all. Like I said before, i plan to write a prologue and epiloge and still have two social media AUs to post! Thank you for all the love and support!

You were stood with your ear pressed against the door in the hopes of hearing the conversation between Tom and Sarah. You were able to make out little snippets here and there when suddenly your mom came bounding over. “What��s going on?” She asked. “Sarah is meant to be walking down the aisle in five minutes.”

“Mom… shhhh.” You said turning to her. “Sarah is just… having a minute to calm her nerves.” You lied.

“Ok, well please tell her to hurry up, the guests are getting antsy! I’ll just go and get your father.” And she walked off down the hall. As soon as she was out of sight, you pressed your ear back against the door.

“Tom, I just can’t tell you how sorry I am I never told you.” Sarah choked out.

“Look baby, I don’t care! It happened before we were together. I just needed a minute to process that you slept with Luke. I mean, I know he’s my friend and everything but Luke? Really?” Tom said with a slight jokiness.

“Do you still want to go ahead with this?” Sarah asked meekly.

“Hell yes, I do! But from this day forth, we tell each other everything ok?” Tom said. “If this marriage thing is gonna work honey, we need to be truthful.”

“Of course!” Sarah said, her tone a little cheerier.

“I actually think you should thank your sister.” Tom began and you could hear the eye roll in Sarah’s scoff. “I’m glad she got you to tell me actually. I’d much prefer to have heard it from you than Luke, we know his reputation for blurting things out.”

“I guess you’re right. I mean, I just told her she was a shitty sister when I’m the shitty one.” Sarah sighed and you triumphantly smiled to yourself. Sarah never admitted she was wrong so to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth, it was music to your ears. “I mean, what the hell was I thinking about sleeping with Luke in the first place? I think I was just desperate for your attention.”

“And it worked,” Tom replied. “Come on, let’s do this thing.”

You heard Tom’s footsteps towards the door and frantically scrambled away from your position where your ear has been pressed up against the wood. Tom opened the door and looked at you with a bright smile on his face, followed by a big thumbs up. He then made his way down the hallway, presumably to wait for your sister at the altar.

You cautiously walked towards your sister and knocked lightly at the door. Sarah hastily turned around and looked at you. She didn’t say a word, but you knew by the way she tilted her head, she was inviting you into the room. You slowly walked in and stopped a few steps in front of Sarah.

“So…” you started. “Is everything…” You didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

“Y/N.” Sarah cut you off. “I’m sorry. Utterly and completely sorry. Sorry for what I did, sorry for not telling you, just sorry for being a shitty sister.” “Thank you.” You replied. “I guess maybe I should apologise as well but I was hurt. I just couldn’t believe you kept it a secret from me for so long.”

“And I completely understand that Y/N! You don’t have to apologise.” Sarah said and you were shocked to hear the words leave her lips. Never did you think you’d be hearing Sarah take accountability for her actions while also justifying your own.

“How did Tom take the news?” you asked despite knowing.

“He was hurt I didn’t tell him sooner, of course he has every right to be upset about it.” Sarah started. “But he still wants to get married!” and you could hear the relief in her voice and a bright smile filled her face.

“You will still be my maid of honour, won’t you?” Sarah asked, worry wavering in her voice.

“Of course, I will Sarah.” You smiled. “You’re still my sister… despite the shitty things you may have done.”

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, pulling you in for a tight hug. “Thank you so much sissy.”

***

You found Aaron hovering outside the entrance to the hall the ceremony was about to take place. He was watching people fidgeting in their seats as they awaited the bride’s entrance.

“Hey!” you smiled as you reached him. Aaron turned around to face you and a smile grew on his face. Aaron was relieved to see you in a happier mood than a mere 30 minutes ago.

“Everything ok?” He asked.

“Everything is good. I actually received several apologies from Sarah. Something I never thought I’d hear to be honest.” You began. “Oh! And I guess it’s good news that the wedding is still going ahead.”

“That’s great then.” Aaron smiled and leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m glad you sorted everything but remember, you have every right to be upset with the situation.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you leaned up to peck another quick kiss on his lips.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him.

“I just want you to know, your feelings are valid and justified,” Aaron added.

“I know Aaron and I love you for being just so perfect.” You smiled brightly and a pink tint tinged the tips of Aaron’s ears. He wrapped his arms around your waist while yours slid up his arms to perch around his neck.

“I love you, Agent Hotchner.” You smiled.

“I love you too Agent Y/L/N.” Aaron replied placing his lips on yours once again in a searing kiss.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Your mom hissed through her teeth causing you and Aaron to hastily pull apart from each other.

“Aaron, go find your seat! Y/N, where is your bouquet?” Your mom frantically barked her orders. “Sarah is about to walk down the aisle. Quick get into positions!”

“I’ll see you soon.” You whispered to Aaron before he escorted your mom down the aisle to their seats.

Then, the excited bridesmaids began to clamber into the hallway, arranging themselves in the correct order and checking all their dresses were straight and their bouquets looked perfect. Next came Sarah, looking so flawless despite the chaotic last hour, with her arm firmly folded into your dad’s.

“Are we all ready?” Sarah asked excitedly and a wave of murmurs and excited whispers followed from the crowd of bridesmaids.

“Are you ready?” you asked Sarah and she nodded eagerly.

“I’m so ready!” Sarah replied.

You smiled at her and took your position, ready to walk down the aisle. The music started to play and off you went.

***

“More champagne?” Aaron asked, offering the bottle.

“Yes please.” You smiled, passing your glass to Aaron. He took it and filled it up perfectly with the bubbly beverage before handing the glass back to you.

“You looked so beautiful during the ceremony,” Aaron said to you as you took a sip from your champagne flute.

“Flattery will get you everywhere Mr Hotchner.” You laughed, placing a hand on his thigh.

Aaron placed his hand on top of yours and smiled at you before the two of you looked around the room at everyone as they finished their meals. Sarah and Tom were giggling away at their table at the front while Livvy was flirting with one of the groomsmen she had been put with for the ceremony.

“Everyone has finished their meals.” You groaned, burying your head into Aaron’s neck.

“Yes?...” He responded slightly confused.

“So it means it’ll be speeches soon and I cannot stand public speaking.” You sighed.

Aaron laughed which caused you to sit up and shoot him a glare.

“Why are you laughing?” You asked slightly annoyed. “This is my worst nightmare.”

“I’m not laughing at you.” Aaron replied. “It’s just funny that you can deliver a profile to police officers you’ve never met before but can’t make a speech in front of people you know.”

“Well, there’s a slight difference.” You said. “There are a lot more people here than at any police station.”

Aaron just chuckled as he placed a soft kiss on your temple. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured against your skin.

Suddenly, the sound of a knife being tapped against a glass caught everyone’s attention and every guest turned to face the bride and groom. Tom was stood up and pulled a paper from his suit pocket, unfolding it carefully before holding it out, ready to read his speech. One by one, everyone made their speeches, Tom, Sarah, your dad, Tom’s mom and Luke (whose speech was fortunately short, snappy and a little bit awkward) before it was your turn. Aaron squeezed your hand reassuringly as you stood up, everyone’s eyes shifting to you.

You cleared your throat before speaking. “Hi everyone. I hope you’ve all been enjoying yourselves so far. Don’t worry! I am the last speechmaker for the night so as soon as I’m done, you’re free to head to the bar.” You joked and a few laughs echoed around the room. You ran your hands down the front of your dress, your palms sweaty from nerves. “Sarah. I remember when we were younger, you would cut pictures out of mom’s magazines to design your own wedding in your scrapbook. They were always so big and extravagant with bright pink dresses and crazy venues like Disneyland. But I also remember the hours I spent tidying up all your paper scraps and rubbish,” You laughed and others joined in including Sarah. “You always knew exactly what you wanted and I guess I was jealous of you in that way. You had your life perfectly planned out while I was stuck deciding if I wanted to profile criminals or not, much to Mom’s dismay.” And this time your dad’s laugh caught your ears. “And I’ll be honest, I had been dreading your wedding, I really had! But now that I’m here, while we may have had our rocky patches over the last few days, you’ll always be my sister and I want you to be happy, I know you and Tom will have a very happy life together. To Tom and Sarah!” you said, raising your glass and everyone followed.

You immediately sat back down and released a breath.

“That was perfect,” Aaron muttered as you sat. “I think I saw Sarah wipe away some tears.”

“Phew, at least I didn’t fuck that up.” You replied and watched as the guests began to file through the doors to the dancefloor and bar. “Come on, let's go get a drink.”

***

The dance floor was heaving with everyone dancing as the DJ played a mixture of upbeat songs. You and Aaron stood and watched the chaos as you both sipped on a glass of scotch. He had his arm wrapped around your waist while your head rested against his shoulder. The several glasses of alcohol had now begun to go to your head.

“Thank you,” You said. “For agreeing to come with me. Never did I think that the things that happened over the last few days would have happened when you said you’d be my fake boyfriend.”

“I think, agreeing to be your fake boyfriend was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.” Aaron smiled. “Finally having the confidence to tell you how I really feel about you was something I never thought would happen.”

“We also had sex.” You said excitedly and Aaron chuckled to himself, amused by your tipsy revelations.

You were just about to speak again when one of your favourite songs began to play, echoing loudly around the room.

“Oh my god! I love this song.” You smiled brightly and Aaron melted at the sight of how happy you were. “Come on! Let's dance.”

You both put your glasses down on the bar before you dragged Aaron onto the busy dancefloor. You wrapped your arms around his neck while Aaron’s hands found your hips by instinct as you began to sway in time with the music together. You buried your head into Aaron's neck and your knees nearly buckled at the comforting smell of his cologne. Everything felt so perfect.

“How long do you think we have to stay here?” Aaron asked.

“Why? Have somewhere you want to be?” You questioned with a laugh.

“Yes I do,” he smirked. “And it involves you, a bed and no clothes.”

“I like the sound of that,” you smiled, leaning up and placing a kiss on his lips. “How about we stay for another hour and then I’m all yours?”

“Sounds perfect,” Aaron smiled. “I’ll just get us another drink.”

You nodded with a smile and watched as Aaron made his way through the sea of people on the dance floor and towards the bar.

A sweaty hand on your arm drew you from your thoughts and you turned to see Liv with a huge grin plastering her face.

“How has your night been?” She asked.

“Good!” You shouted so Liv could hear you over the music.

“I’m surprised Aaron hasn’t taken you home yet and ripped that dress off you.” She laughed and you rolled your eyes jokingly. “I’m currently trying to persuade Josh to invite me back to his hotel.” And she pointed over to the good-looking, blonde-haired man.

“I think his name is Greg.” You corrected her with a laugh.

“Whatever!” Liv laughed. “He’s hot and it's ritual for a bridesmaid to hook up with a groomsman.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“Here honey,” Aaron’s voice said from behind you and you turned to see him holding out a glass of white wine to you. You took it from him gratefully and Aaron looked over to Liv who was beside you. “Sorry Liv, I would have got you a drink as well,” Aaron said, and a warmth flared in your chest from just how sweet he is.

“Don’t worry about it Aaron,” Liv smiled and then she turned back to you. “Operation ‘hook up with Josh’ is in full swing.”

“Greg!” You corrected her again with a laugh.

“Greg… whatever!” Liv shrugged you off with a laugh as she headed back towards the blonde groomsman.

“What was that about?” Aaron laughed as he took a sip from his bottle of beer before wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Just Liv’s chosen target for the night.” You laughed in response and leaned your head on Aaron’s shoulder.

The night went on as you and Aaron found yourself comfortably seated at a table, drinking wine and sharing kisses every now and then. The dancefloor was still alive with people including your mom and dad as well as Livvy (who was far too busy kissing the groomsman, Greg). Sarah and Tom had cut the cake, which had been shared amongst all the guests before she tossed the bouquet which Tom’s little sister caught (much to her boyfriend’s hatred!).

You looked over to Aaron as he watched the room and leaned into his ear so he could hear you.

“Let’s get out of here,” you said and Aaron could practically hear the smirk in your voice. “We’ve stayed a lot longer than we said we would and now I’m desperate to get you alone.”

Aaron looked into your eyes with a desire that sent butterflies through your stomach.

“Come on,” he said, standing up and taking your hand. “Let’s get a cab.”

You quickly made your way around the room, bidding your farewells to Sarah and Tom, your mom and dad and of course Liv, who gave you a knowing wink as you pulled away from your hug with her.

Once comfortably situated inside a cab on your way home, Aaron had you pulled close to him, littering your neck with soft kisses and occasionally nipping your skin.

“If you keep this up, we’re going to get kicked out of the cab,” you giggled. “And I don’t particularly want to be walking home in these heels.”

“I’ll carry you,” Aaron mumbled between placing kisses down your neck towards your collarbone.

“I… like this side of you,” you breathed out as Aaron’s hand came to rest on your thigh, squeezing it gently. “But we’re nearly home and then I’ll be completely and utterly yours.”

Aaron simply nodded and buried his head in your neck where he stayed the rest of the journey home.

Aaron’s hands were on you the second you walked through the door. He squeezed your hips as his lips met yours in a bruising kiss before trailing down your neck, nipping lightly at your skin. Within seconds, Aaron had you pushed up against the wall, his head ducked down low as he placed sloppily kisses across your cleavage.

“So…. Desperate…” you muttered breathlessly.

“You are irresistible,” Aaron mumbled, lifting his head to look at your face. His gaze was intense and filled with lust and heat settled in the bottom of your abdomen.

“Upstairs?” Aaron suggested but it came out more as a demand.

“Yes Sir,” You replied and flashed him a teasing smile when you saw his eyes darken at the use of the professional name.

The two of you frantically made your way upstairs and headed straight for your bedroom. You slammed the door behind you and kicked off your heels while Aaron began to take off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. You made your way over to him and started to unbutton the crisp white shirt, your fingers delicately brushing over his skin. As soon as he was freed of the white fabric, you leaned up to kiss Aaron and as your lips met in a searing kiss, Aaron’s hands fiddled with the zip at the back of your dress before effortlessly pulling it all the way down. He pulled away from the kiss first, tugging lightly at the silky fabric of the dress to encourage it to slip off your body. Once you had your arms free of the straps, the fabric slipped smoothly down your body and pooled at your feet. Aaron’s breath hitched as he took in your appearance before his lips were back on yours and you could feel his growing erection pushing into you.

“I… I need you,” you managed to mutter between breathless kisses. Your underwear was practically soaking now, you needed Aaron inside of you immediately.

“Get on the bed,” he whispered against your lips in a commanding tone. You did as he instructed and laid on the bed. You looked back up at Aaron’s tall, dominating stance from where he stood looking down at you from the end of the bed. You bit your lip as you looked at the bulge straining against Aaron’s trousers, spreading your legs apart ever so slightly to show Aaron that you were ready for him.

Aaron got down onto his knees and pulled you closer towards him by your ankles. He started kissing gently up your legs, scattering small pecks here and there before he reached your thighs where he then started to nip lightly at the skin. You gasped out in shock at the sudden feeling of his teeth on your skin and were now very aware of how close Aaron was to your soaked pussy.

“A…Aaron,” you breathed out. “I need you…”

“Do you trust me?” Aaron asked from his position between your legs and you nodded quickly.

His fingers hooked under the fabric of your underwear and he began pulling them down your legs until you were completely free of the wet fabric. Aaron then returned to your centre and slowly slid two fingers inside of you.

“So wet already…” Aaron mused as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you gently.

You gasped at the pleasure and grasped at the bed sheets when Aaron’s thumb made contact with your clit. Then suddenly, Aaron ducked his head down and before you could ask what he was doing, his tongue swiped through your wet folds.

“Oh!” you gasped out as Aaron stayed buried between your thighs, his tongue circling around your clit. Your hand found its way into Aaron’s hair, grasping it between your fingers and pulling on it ever so gently.

The taste of your arousal on Aaron’s tongue was enough to push him over the edge as he traced his tongue back and forth through your folds, his tongue swirling and circling again and again around your clit, your hips bucking up slightly at the pleasure.

“You’re…. you’re really good at this,” you managed to whisper through your pleasure. No previous partner had ever gone down on you before, Aaron was opening your eyes to a whole new world of pleasure.

He hummed something from between your thighs and the vibrations that followed through your body were enough to tip you over the edge. Aaron kept teasing his tongue through your folds, his hands had a strong grip on your hips to keep you in place as he pushed his tongue hard around your clit.

“Aaron… I’m going to,” you couldn’t finish your sentence as the orgasm took over your body. The moans that left your throat motivated Aaron to keep teasing and circling your pussy as he began to taste all of you.

Once you came back to your senses, you pulled Aaron up so that he was hovering over you and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into a desperate, bruising kiss.

“That was… incredible.” You mumbled against his slightly swollen lips. “But now I need you inside of me.”

Aaron chuckled before looking into your eyes and muttering something along the lines of ‘so desperate’ as he pulled back from you and looked down at your naked body.

“Please Aaron…” you groaned as you sat up and impatiently reached for his belt, beginning to unbuckle it.

As soon as Aaron was rid of his trousers and boxers, he was hovering above you and placing kisses along your jaw and neck.

“Ready?” Aaron asked between kisses.

“Yes!” you replied desperately.

Aaron reached down and aligned his cock with your centre, rubbing the head through your wet folds a few times before he slowly pushed himself inside of you. You gasped at the sudden fullness and gripped Aaron’s shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

“Ok?” Aaron asked and you nodded quickly.

Aaron then began rocking his hips against yours at a teasingly slow pace, nearly pulling out of you before he thrust his length back inside of your pussy.

“Harder.” You said in between your breathless moans and Aaron quickly obliged, his pace quickening as he began to fuck you hard.

“Been thinking about this…” Aaron grunted as he thrust into you. “All day.”

“Me too!” You replied and moaned loudly as Aaron fucked deeper into you, hitting the right stop.

Your moans, Aaron could listen to them all day – they were enough to push him tumbling over the edge, but he tried to restrain himself for as long as he could.

“Touch yourself,” Aaron instructed.

You did as he said and started circling your clit as Aaron’s thrusts began to become sloppy as he reached closer and closer to his own pleasure.

“Fuck!” Aaron hissed as he come inside of you. The sudden heat that filled you up was enough to then push you over the edge into blinding pleasure as Aaron rode out his orgasm.

“Oh! Aaron…” you moaned into his neck, your hands flying up to grip his shoulders as Aaron’s pace began to slow down.

Aaron was mindlessly twiddling his fingers through the ends of your hair as the two of you laid in each other's arms. Your body still tingled with Aaron’s touch and satisfaction flowed through your veins.

“Now all this wedding shit is over, I can finally thank you properly for agreeing to come with me.” You said as you snuggled closer into Aaron’s chest.

“You’ve been thanking me all weekend honey,” Aaron replied and placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Again, if I hadn’t agreed to come with you, I’d still be silently pinning for you from my office.”

“If you hadn’t come, I don’t think I’d have been able to make it through the week without committing murder.” You laughed and sat up to look at him. “And of course, I would never have had the opportunity to tell you how I’ve been madly in love with you since the day I joined the BAU.”

“I love you so much,” Aaron smiled, sitting up slightly so he was now elevated on his arm.

“I love you too.” You smiled brightly and leaned down to capture Aaron’s lips in a quick, chaste kiss. “You have been the best fake boyfriend ever.”

Aaron let out a hearty laugh before looking back at you with nothing but complete adoration in his eyes that made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“I hope I’m not being too bold to assume that my title has been upgraded?” He asked with an anxious smile.

“Aaron Hotchner is this your attempt to ask me to be your girlfriend?” you laughed and a red tint tinged the tips of Aaron’s ears.

“Well…” Aaron couldn’t find the words.

You laughed loudly before throwing your arms around his neck and peppering his cheek and jawline with kisses.

“I’d love nothing more than to be officially known as your girlfriend.” You smiled and Aaron leaned up to place a bruising kiss on your lips. “You’re now my go-to wedding date.” You smiled brightly and Aaron chuckled.

***

One year later

A knock on his office door drew Aaron from his thoughts. He put down the file he had been looking at and turned to face the door where you were standing.

“Agent Y/L/N,” Aaron said in his ‘professional’ voice. “Come in.”

You walked into the office and shut the door behind you as you produced a pink envelope which Aaron rose an eyebrow at.

“What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“So, big news.” You began, a wide smile spreading across your face. “Livvy’s and Greg’s wedding invitation has just been delivered!”

“Brilliant,” Aaron replied in a monotonous tone, his eyes had drifted back to the file he had previously been reading.

“Aaron! This is important!” You scold him as you sit yourself down on the chair across from his desk.

“Sorry sweetheart, I’m listening. Liv’s wedding invitation, yes?”

“Yes! It’s in 3 months' time. 25th September in LA of course.” You smiled, sliding the invitation across the desk for Aaron to read.

“Is this your way of asking for the time off?” He asked, a teasing look in his eyes.

“you’re so funny…” you rolled your eyes. “I thought you’d know by now baby, you’re always my go-to wedding date remember.”

“Of course! How could I forget.” Aaron replied sarcastically but with a small smile on his lips. “Luckily this time, we won’t have to pretend we’re dating.”

You laughed as you took the invitation back from Aaron. “That’s very true!” Aaron stood up as he walked you to the door of his office.

“So save the date Hotchner, 25th September you’re coming back to LA with me. Back to see my psychotic family.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way Y/L/N.” Aaron chuckled and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“Not very appropriate workplace behaviour Sir,” You teased him.

“It’s a good thing my blinds are closed then,” Aaron smirked and ducked his head down to place another searing kiss on your lips.

#The Wedding Date #aaron hotch #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch smut

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meryldian · 1 year

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★ Dating 2023!Bill Kaulitz ★ (Fluff overload)

AN: Oh boy, I never thought I’d actually post some of my hcs, let’s see how this goes. I’m typing this half-asleep on my phone so I apologize for any grammatical or technical mistake, please let me know if anything!!

Let’s start with setting something straight, Bill does not fall for someone easily nor does he like to sleep around, as he’s said himself. If he’s actually decided on dating you it is a synonym for “I can see an entire future with you and I have probably thought of marriage plans”

No matter how you guys met; whether it was through mutual friends, by chance or were childhood friends, it would take you weeks, months or even years of forming a strong bond before even considering the first date.

Bill has said many times that he believes in love at first sight and probably still does, but fame and people have definitely left him with some major trust issues.

Won’t give you a house key or ask you to move in till he’s completely certain that you’re fully trust-worhy, but he loves having you over with him.

Now that you guys are together, he is the sweetest person on earth, will worship you like you’re a divine creature that landed on earth. He would worship the ground you walk on if he could.

Never-ending honeymoon stage kind of relationship not going to lie-

Will take you out to theme parks, rent out movie theatres, take you on hikes and long walks on a deserted beach.

Don’t be surprised if you ever wake up to a screaming Bill, all hyped because he decided that you’re spending your weekend at Disney.

He is so cheesy but it’s so sweet to see. He’s at a point in his life that he just wants to love and be loved. Kisses on the cheek, opening doors for you, pushing your chair at restaurants. He’s a gentleman.

Till it applies to his fashion. You ARE doomed to help him out of his outfit when he decides to be a bit more daring. Just like he does with Georg and Tom he will do it with you. “y/n you know the drill. When my assistant is not around you’re my assistant now help me out of these shoes”

Speaking of shoes, he is almost 2 meters (and sometimes more) when he wears his platforms and he absolutely loves towering over you. Bill loves to see you reach for a kiss. He will also walk behind you and ruffle your hair to annoy you.

This man is so whipped. He can gush about you for hours on end in interviews, his socials or his podcast.

He would also expose you a lot on Kaulitz Hills because that’s what he does.

He loves physical touch. When you’re walking in downtown LA he will always have an arm wrapped around your shoulders or waist, holding your hand or linking your pinkies.

He has the sneakiest of hands, it’s even worse than Tom. Bill always finds a way to have hand under your shirt or skirt if you happen to wear them. He can’t help it, he loves to feel your skin on his hands.

Back Hugs !!!

You will become his muse. He loves to dress you up however he pleases, you just look so good in everything! Bill will spend so much cash on designer sets to match with you. Only the best for his beloved.

He mostly calls you by your name in public but behind closed doors he would address you by the sweetest names like “My love, Darling/liebling, Pumpkin”

You guys are always out to eat

And at coffee shops

You’re each other’s personal photographers. Plus he absolutely adores to show you off on his instagram

I can see him as the type to start a vlogging channel just to show off how in love and happy he is with you.

Prepare yourself mentally to be woken up early to walk the dogs and drink sour green juice. Bill used to be a tremendous sleeper when he was young but those days are way behind.

When you wake up together, it is the best. He tends to wake up first and will stay in bed just admiring how beautiful you are. Tracing your features with his fingers. He wants to memorize every inch of your skin.

If you take too long though, he will get up and go prepare breakfast. Yes it includes celery juice.

You guys are always hanging with Tom & Heidi! You get into the craziest adventures

Heidi would love you so much, so would her kids. You and Bill are the cool relatives.

#bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel #gustav schäfer #tom kaulitz #georg listing #tom kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #georg listing x reader

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fan-goddess · 7 months

Text

Authors Note: Here’s the final one of your requests sweet anon! I literally started this yesterday so I’m happy with how quick I wrote this! I’ve separated your requests into 3 separate pieces just so it’s easier! Hope that’s okay and I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Certainly went more goofy than usual with the tags that’s for sure…

Warnings: P in v sex, public sex, Toms got a hell of a mouth, dirty talk, teasing, unprotected sex, he’s just oozing dominance, overstimulation, he’s cocky as hell, but he gets strangely bashful at the end, he’s gotta low-key breeding kink, and it’s successful, thumb sucking but not your own, degrading I think, praising also, (if I’ve missed any which I don’t doubt I have, then let me know in a way you’re comfortable with)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat

The bar was crowded and noisy, as sailors from all ranks spread themselves all throughout the room looking for their next ‘catch of the day’.

You yourself was sitting idly by the bar, sipping your daiquirí whilst your supposed best friend was chatting up some ginger haired sailor with spectacles the size of oranges with vigour. You loved her, you really did, but she really had some unique tastes…

“And what’s a gal like you sitting all by herself in a place like this now?” A voice said, bringing you from your depressive thoughts.

When you turn to him, you’re actually surprised to see a handsome man in-front of you, dressed in his sailors uniform, with a matching hat and a cocky grin painted on his lips to match.

“Well sailor, my mates currently chatting up one of your own. And I’ve been left all on my own…” It’s amusing to you how when you mockingly pout in annoyance for a little added affect, the sailors eyes can’t stop themselves from staring at them, desire clearly swirling within them.

“Well we can’t have that can we now! A beautiful woman should never be without company I believe!” He grins, slyly touching hands with your own so his little finger can caresses your warm skin.

You choose not to answer his statement right away, instead watching with hooded eyes as his own stare pure liquid heat into your whole body, merely at the sight of your lips pursed around the straw of your drink whilst you give a small hum of amusement.

“And what are you going to do about my lack of company sailor?” You grin, placing down your now empty glass to look at him with full attention, resting your head on your hand for that extra effect.

“Well, I’ll be keeping the lady company. In any way she so pleases…” He grins, coming closer to you under the pretence of wiping something away from the corner of your mouth. Only his own mouth opens slightly in surprise and arousal, when your lips move to wrap around his thumb and bite down slightly, before removing it with a slightly wet pop and a cheeky grin.

“Well then, it’s a good thing I know exactly how you’ll be keeping me company, isn’t it sailor boy?” The cheeky carefree grin still drawn on your face.

“Yes pretty woman, it is indeed…”

It’s surprising how calm and aroused you are about fucking an absolute stranger in an abandoned and slightly dirty alleyway behind the bar. But hey, the big wars going on and you have no idea if you may die the next day. Gotta make the most of it right?

“Fuck… such a tight pussy…” The sailor boy groans, the sound alone going straight to your cunt that clenches desperately around his cock.

You have no idea his name, but that strangely makes that it all the more thrilling.

“Oh! So good!” You whine. The grip your nails have on his arms tightening as his teeth sink almost desperately into the skin of your neck. Wanton you cannot control ripping straight from your throat as he does so.

It only gets worse when that same thumb you playfully bit down earlier comes to your mouth once more to collect some of your built up saliva, and skilfully trace circles with it on your swollen clit.

You’ve got to admit, your sailor is nothing but skillful when it’s comes to a woman’s body. Not that you’re complaining of course….

“Can already feel your walls clenching down on me. You want my cum that badly inside you huh?” He huffs, grinning into the skin of your neck as he sucks dark marks you know’ll show up the next morning. It almost makes you forgive the cocky undertones that so clearly shines through.

“It’s okay love, I know you can’t help it when you’ve got a cock this big in your tight little pussy huh? Come on love, fucking cum for me already!”

You didn’t even realise how close you were until he told you. As the moment he said those words with that almost annoyingly deep seductive voice of his, your walls began to clench and your whines become muffled as you try to quieten them down by keeping your head in the curve of his neck.

Yet as you felt the euphoric feeling calm down, you realised he hasn’t even cum yet, and he was still thrusting deep inside of you like it was his last time on earth. Which to be honest, when you thought of this moment later that evening, to a man like him, it very well may have been.

“Awe it’s okay love! You can give me another one can’t you? Let’s see if we can give you another before I cum deep inside you shall we?” The sailor gives you another cocky smirk whilst his thumb still continues to draw small shapes on your clit, and all you can do to respond is whimper slightly whilst nodding your head sluggishly.

The strange buzz you begin to feel throughout your whole body is slightly painful, and yet that feeling mixed with the once again building of pleasure is something you can’t help but find almost annoyingly addictive.

So additive in fact, you can’t help but clamp your teeth tightly onto the plump skin of your lips to keep that delicious mix of pain and pleasure pumping through you.

“Awe, have I fucked my pretty girl dumb? That’s such a shame… still. I gotta tell you this is by far, the best fucking cunt in England” He emphasises his praise with a sharp thrust between each word, and you can’t stop yourself anymore from releasing your lips and beginning to desperately gasp for breath as his cock makes you feel practically breathless as he bullies you with it.

And It’s only worse for you when his cock begins to bully your sweet spot harshly and accurately.

“Fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna cum again!” You whine, your eyes screwing shut as you barely manage to get the words out.

“Hey! Eyes on me love!” His hand suddenly withdraws itself from your clits with a slight gasp you realise he’s grabbed your jaw tightly to force your eyes to look into his own, and his thumb covered in your juices is pushed into your own mouth, where you suck almost wantonly at the soaked digit with a whine.

“Yeah, that’s a good girl! Gonna cum deep inside you… and who knows. Maybe I’ll leave you with a going away present!” He chuckles, before his face screws up slightly as you feel yourself cumming around his cock, bringing him to his own orgasm with a deep erotic groan.

The two of you don’t speak for a few moments. Allowing only the sounds of your mixed heavy breaths do the talking as he releases you from his hold and the two of you begin to make yourselves presentable.

Sailor boy only needing to pull up his trousers and redo his belt, whilst you yourself pull up your underwear and adjust the shoulder straps of your dress before wiping away the slight wet trails around your mouth with your sleeves.

You look at him almost shyly as the sudden soberness hits you, whilst his own eyes hold slight sympathy when he looks over the state of your neck. No doubt already bruised and marked for all to see on the way back home.

“My names Tom by the way. Tom Bennett.” He says, finally breaking the sudden build of ice.

You shyly say your own, and a slight blush takes over your face when he repeats it back to you under his breath with a small half smile. As if to test it.

“I’m shipping off next week. Did you uhm, did you wanna maybe go somewhere to eat tomorrow night maybe for dinner? I’d ask if you wanted to go now, but now that I’m looking at you, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe go and rest back at your place first before we did anything…” It’s strange to see your sailor boy, or Tom you suppose, so shy all of a sudden. But still you can’t help yourself from smiling slightly as his much more innocent proposition than the one he gave you back in the bar.

“I’d love to do it tomorrow! I think you’re right. I may need some rest before we go somewhere… still, did you have anywhere in mind to eat?” You ask, preening slightly as he smoothly places him arm over your shoulder almost possessively and leads you out of the alley with a small smile, insisting he walks you to your home.

Whatever you do, no matter how many times you’re asked, you never tell your children this is how you met their father. Nor tell your eldest son this is how he got brought into the world…

#tom bennett/reader #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett x ofc #tom bennett x you #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett smut #tom bennett #tom bennet x reader #world on fire smut #world on fire #ewan mitchell character

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darylas · 2 months

Text

Chapter 3 - Ghost of a Chance

John "Bucky" Egan x singer!fem!reader first ♫ previous ♫ next ao3

You go on a double date to distract yourself from thoughts of Bucky, a task made more difficult when he is sitting in the same pub.

4.2k words

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Non-consensual use of drugs, Attempted sexual assault, Mild violence

Disclaimer: Most of the characters mentioned are based on the dramatic portrayal featured in the Masters of the Air limited series, not the actual historical figures they represent.

A/N: Please read the warnings! MAJOR tone shift coming in from the north. I promise next chapter will be lighter!

“So, how long have you been in merry old England?”

“Less than a month, though it doesn’t feel that way,” you answered, swiping your thumb across the condensation that had formed quickly on your glass in the humidity of the pub. You were sat across from Lieutenant Tom Foyle, a pilot in the 351st. His dark hair was styled neatly with pomade, his handsome face clean-shaven. Next to you sat Millicent “Millie” Vance, another Red Cross girl who had somehow roped you into being one-fourth of a double date.

“Oh? Does it feel longer or shorter?” Tom asked. He seemed genuinely interested in your answer, as he had with everything you’d said that evening. He had kind, curious green eyes that made you feel like the only person in the room.

You looked down at your glass, half empty. “Both. Neither. To be completely honest I’m not quite sure. The work gets so repetitive that time seems to stand still some days, but other times it feels as though the clock is ticking faster than a runaway train. I suppose there’s nothing like war to make time feel rather short.” You gave Tom a reassuring smile, ending your little monologue before it grew any more depressing and soured the whole evening. “Sorry,” you said, holding up your glass. “It appears that gin makes me a tad melancholy.”

The blond pilot sitting across from Millie spoke up. “That’s funny, it makes me giddy. Of course, that could just be our present company.” He leaned forward, addressing Millie. “I told Tom that you had to be the prettiest girl this side of the ocean.”

Millie grinned and replied, “Glad we’re not on the other side of the ocean, then,” causing the pilot, Dan, to let out a surprised wheeze of laughter.

While Dan continued his boisterous flirting, saying something about Millie having wit as well as looks, Tom leaned toward you, filling your nostrils with the pleasant scent of his aftershave. He smirked and said in a low voice, “I believe his exact words to me were, ‘What a dish!’.”

You chuckled softly, pleasantly surprised that you were actually enjoying yourself. “I suppose we can’t all be Humphrey Bogart.”

“Sure, we can.” Tom cocked his head slightly to the side and spoke with Bogart’s deep and gravelly voice. “We’ll always have Paris.”

You laughed as he sat back in his chair with a smile. “You saw Casablanca?” you asked him.

“Yep, right before flying over. I’d go see movies whenever I could.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “Used to think I could be an actor. Wouldn’t that be something? Seeing yourself on the big screen?” He certainly had the looks for it.

“Maybe after the war, you could pursue an acting career. I’m sure Hollywood would snatch you right up.” Tom smiled bashfully at the compliment. “I actually wanted to be in movies myself when I was younger. Particularly musicals. I’m not much of a dancer but hell, neither is Bing Crosby, and he gets away with it.” You took another sip of gin, inwardly wincing. It was stronger than the drinks you normally favored, but Dan had ordered a round for the table. You had never liked when a man ordered food or drink for a woman, but you didn’t want to embarrass Millie by declining.

“I’d see your films over Bing’s any day,” responded Tom, who managed to combine flirtation and authenticity with such ease that you were beginning to feel skeptical. You couldn’t help but glance toward the back of the pub, where Major Egan had been sitting with some of the other men for the past hour. You were surprised to find him looking right back at you. He gave you a small smile and a subtle nod. No wink, no devilish grin. Curious. Reflexively, you smiled back, then looked away.

Much to your annoyance, John Egan had begun to appear in your thoughts almost regularly and uninvited. Ever since that night at the club, he had gotten under your skin like a persistent itch. An egotistical, irritating, handsome, intriguing itch. You kept these thoughts to yourself, as you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his asinine attempt to insult you into a conversation almost worked. By the same token, you were still wary of him, knowing his track record with women.

You knew, not so deep down, that you had agreed to come on this double date to distract yourself and perhaps meet someone else to occupy your thoughts. Someone like Tom, who picked up his glass and said, “To our Tinseltown dreams, then.”

You clinked your glass with his and said, “To Bing Crosby and his two left feet.”

Millie spoke up. “You know, our Red Cross canary here sings an old Bing song just beautifully. The one from that short with Mary Kornman. Anyone who’s ever made coffee and doughnuts with this one in the morning has heard her sing it.”

You shrugged one shoulder. “Anything to distract me from throwing that blasted doughnut machine out the window. I swear, my poor old Zippo is more reliable than that thing.”

“I thought you said your lighter doesn’t work anymore,” said Millie.

“Exactly,” you replied, to the laughter of your companions.

Tom, with laughter still in his voice, looked at you and said, “I’d sure love to hear you sing it sometime. After all, when some bigshot movie producer calls to ask me about your talents, I want to give him an accurate description.”

Dan scoffed. “Why would a movie producer call you about her?”

Tom lightly smacked his friend on the shoulder. “Why would anyone call you about anything?”

Dan’s blond mustache twitched as he smirked. “You’re hilarious. Anybody ever tell you what a gasser you are?”

There was a brief pause, during which your traitorous eyes suddenly flicked back to that table in the back of the pub. Major Egan was not looking at you this time, his attention currently fixed on his friend Lieutenant Curtis Biddick while he seemed to be mimicking various boxing forms. Egan laughed and hollered with the rest of the men at the table. He looked younger when he laughed, less like a commanding officer and more like a carefree young man. You assumed he shouldered a great many cares, and that the weight of them would only increase as the war continued. The humidity of the pub had caused a few curls to come loose over his forehead, the fire behind him giving his skin a warm glow.

“I’m sure the pianist knows it,” said Millie, breaking you out of what you could only describe as a trance before the Major caught you staring.

“Knows what?” you asked, praying to high heaven you weren’t blushing.

“The song! You could sing it here!”

“Oh, Millie, please. Most of these boys hear far too much of my caterwauling back at base. They come here to get away from that. Besides, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m in the middle of a date.” You gestured between yourself and Tom.

Tom smiled. “As much as I’m enjoying said date, I think the one thing it’s missing is a beautiful song sung by a beautiful lady. And I think all the guys in here would agree with me.”

“I don’t think they would-”

“What, you want me to take a poll?” asked Millie, teasingly. “Dan, sweetie, would you mind?”

Alright, maybe she wasn’t teasing. Dan stood up and shouted, “Gentlemen! Who wants to hear our 100th canary sing us a song?” His question was answered with a chorus of affirmative shouts and whistles from around the pub.

Tom looked at you and grinned. “Sounds like you better head over there.”

You grinned back and let out a resigned huff of breath before standing up. “I suppose orders are orders, Lieutenant.”

═════ ♫ ═════

Bucky heard your laughter from across the pub. His eyes immediately turned towards you as the sound reached him, his instincts taking over before his thoughts could catch up. He’d seen you walk in with one of the pilots in the 351st, decked out and chatting with Millie Vance. You were smiling at that pilot now; not the plastered-on, rehearsed, all-American smile he had grown used to seeing at Thorpe Abbotts. This was the real thing, and it was beautiful. What would he give to be the reason for that smile? To be the one to make you laugh like that?

He would fly through a thousand miles of flak.

Bucky rubbed a hand over his face. He might just be the most pathetic man in the entire fucking world.

He couldn’t remember the last time he was so keen on someone. You had to be some sort of siren, luring him out to sea with your alluring voice, only to drag him down, down, down, to the depths of the ocean. He was surprised to find he didn’t mind. With a barely concealed smirk, he realized that being eaten alive by you would not be a terrible way to die.

You had glanced his way once or twice, no doubt feeling his eyes on you. He had tried to look away, to focus on the stories told around the table, but he simply couldn’t help himself. His gaze kept falling back on you. He had never seen you without your Red Cross uniform, and the dress you were wearing had clearly been custom-designed to drive him crazy.

Bucky was grateful for Curt’s loud voice and enthusiasm as he talked about boxing. The distraction was a welcome one, though he supposed that you were the true distraction in this case and not the other way around.

“I can’t believe Buck didn’t come,” said Curt, finishing off his whiskey. “He knows exactly what I’m talkin’ about. The high guard stance ain’t shit in the ring. It’s all about-”

“Gentlemen!” called a voice from across the pub. “Who wants to hear our 100th canary sing us a song?” The place was filled with the sound of whoops and hollers from nearly every table. Bucky watched you grin at your date–Foyle–and stand up before walking to the piano.

Curt didn’t miss a beat before saying, “Uh oh. Look out boys, you might see Bucky cry. The music really gets to’m.”

“Yeah, the music’s lookin’ like a solid sender in that dress,” said Hambone, earning a round of laughter from the table.

Bucky smiled good-naturedly, used to the ribbing at this point. “Alright, alright, laugh it up. Since when is a guy not allowed to appreciate a beautiful dame, huh?”

"Bucky, you've been eyeing her all night," Jack interjected. "You stare at her more than Douglass stares at that photo of Betty Grable he keeps in his pocket." Another round of laughs. Bucky took a long sip of whiskey as Curt patted him on the back with a grin.

He watched you lean down to speak softly to the pianist before standing up straight and clearing your throat. “Don’t you boys hear enough of me as it is? I don’t know what’s gotten into you; well, I suppose I have some idea,” you said, tapping your nail against someone’s glass to make a plinking sound. The crowd laughed, many raising their drinks. “I’m going to sing an old song, but I asked my new friend Alan here to keep it short. I have a drink of my own I’d like to get back to.”

Next to him, Curt laughed before leaning over and saying, “She might be too much of a firecracker for your sorry ass.” Bucky elbowed him in the arm, making him laugh harder. As the pianist started playing a slow, pleasant melody, Curt leaned in again and said, “Or…she just might be perfect for your sorry ass.” Bucky furrowed his brow and turned his head to look at his friend, who smirked and shrugged. “What? I get sappy when I drink.” Bucky didn’t have time to reply before you began to sing.

I need your love so badly

I love you, oh, so madly

But I don't stand a

Ghost of a chance with you

You sauntered between the tables as you sang, the patrons smiling up at you. Bucky preferred when you sang slower songs like this one, the drawn-out notes more sensuous and poignant. As you came within ten feet of his table, you stopped moving. Your eyes met his and lingered for a moment as you continued your song. He was spellbound.

I thought at last I'd found you

But other loves surround you

And I don't stand a

Ghost of a chance with you

You walked back to the piano, leaning elegantly against it as you finished the last line of the song. Applause rang throughout the pub and you nodded graciously before shouting, “How about my new friend, our amazing pianist, Mr. Alan Bennett?” The applause and shouts continued as you said “Thank you; enjoy your evening,” then headed back to your seat.

When Bucky saw you smile once again, genuinely, at Foyle, the spell was broken. No, he hadn’t been on the receiving end of that smile yet, but your shared moment just now gave him a glimpse of hope. You had looked at him differently then, not with contempt or that devastating neutrality from before, but with something else.

Christ, he really was pathetic, knowing that look would be all he thought about for the rest of the night. He deserved the boys’ ragging, as well as another glass of whiskey.

═════ ♫ ═════

You listened to Millie tell an amusing story about an old neighbor back home as you finished your drink. Even though you weren’t currently talking, you noticed Tom stealing frequent glances at you. You smiled encouragingly at him before fanning yourself with a napkin, the heat in the pub somehow having gotten worse.

As Millie continued her story, your thoughts drifted to Major Egan. When your eyes met his grey ones during the song, you were struck by the tenderness and reverence in his gaze. He hadn’t looked at you like a prize, like an object to be used until he grew bored of it. You had held that gaze for longer than you intended; it didn’t change, but you felt like you did.

For that brief moment, no more than five seconds, you were no longer in the pub, but somewhere else entirely. You weren’t sure exactly where you were during this momentary lapse of reality, but you knew you had gotten there through his eyes. You had always heard of getting lost in someone’s eyes, but in that moment, you didn’t feel lost. Instead, you felt as though you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Perhaps you had been too quick to judge him.

Perhaps you should get to know him better.

Perhaps it had just been a man watching a woman while she sang.

All of these confusing thoughts were beginning to give you a headache.

In fact, the noise of the pub seemed to grow louder by the second, and the lights seemed to get brighter. You squinted.

“Honey, are you alright?” asked Millie. You hadn’t realized she’d stopped talking. You gave her a reassuring smile.

“Yes, yes I’m fine. I think the crowded room is getting to me. I might need to step outside for a moment; get some fresh air.” You scooted your chair away from the table.

Both men stood as you did so. Tom pushed in his chair and came around to your side of the table, looking concerned. “Can I accompany you outside? I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Of course. I’d appreciate it, actually.” You looked at Millie. “We’ll be right back.”

As you stood up, you lost your balance and braced your hands on the table, causing the legs to make a loud noise as they shifted. You flushed with embarrassment as multiple patrons looked in your direction, some sniggering to each other. Millie put a delicate hand on your arm. “Are you sure you’re alright? I think we need to head back.”

You waved her off. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m fine. I just stood up too fast. A few minutes of fresh air and I’ll be good as new. Don’t you dare move; this is your one night out. I’m fine.”

Millie continued to look at you with skepticism and concern, but Tom offered you his arm and you took it, walking toward the front of the pub with slow, deliberate steps.

Suddenly, you were outside the pub, still holding on tight to Tom’s arm. You breathed in the night air, hoping it would clear your head. It didn’t.

“Feel any better?” asked Tom.

You looked at him and were alarmed to see that you were no longer outside the front entrance, but alone with him around the side of the building. You couldn’t remember how you got there, but Tom’s arm was still in your grasp. You continued to cling to it, as your dizziness had gotten worse and you were afraid you might fall flat on your face if you let go.

“No, I….don’t,” you answered, having difficulty forming the words. This sudden ailment was clearly something that needed more than fresh air to fix, and you knew it was time to call it a night. Could you really be this drunk? Yes, the gin had been stronger than what you normally drank, but you only had one glass.

Tom looked at you with concern. “I’m so sorry. Are you feeling well enough for the trip back? It would probably be safer to book you a room for the night.” He stroked the back of your hand with his thumb.

“I think I’d like to…to go back to base and get in bed.”

“Is that an invitation?” he asked softly, brushing the backs of his fingers down your bare arm.

“Nnnn…no.” The pain in your head was worsening, your mind telling you that you needed to leave. Now.

Tom spoke your name, his voice still soft. “I think that you and I go together so well. You’re incredibly witty, charming, and so lovely.” You felt him stroke the side of your face. You went to push his hand away, but it was gone when you lifted your hand to your face. “I’m curious to see if our compatibility goes beyond the conversational level, aren’t you?”

When you looked at him again, your head spinning with the effort, his handsome face still held the same charm and sincerity from before.

“Tom, I want to leave. Right now!” You wrenched yourself free from his grasp and turned toward the street. Your movements had been too sudden and you stumbled forward, haphazardly throwing your hands out to avoid falling on your face. You closed your eyes and braced for the feeling of asphalt on your palms, but it never came. When you opened your eyes, you saw the dark olive drab of a military uniform and felt strong arms around you. Of course Tom had easily caught you. You prepared to scream for help—

“The hell is going on out here?”

The person who’d caught you hadn’t been Tom. It was that major. He stood with you still limp in his arms, Millie close behind him looking panicked.

He looked at you, then at Tom, then back at you, his expression quickly morphing from confusion to alarm. You must have been quite a sight.

With urgency in his voice, he spoke your name. “Are you alright? What’s the matter?”

You stood up, another wave of dizziness crashing over you as Millie rushed to help you. “I think I’m…quite unwell, Mister…sorry, Major…” You looked at him quizzically, his name escaping you. Why couldn’t you think of his name? His face had been in your thoughts constantly over the past few days.

The man reluctantly removed his arms from around you and allowed Millie to support you. “It’s Bucky. But you still only call me Major Egan, remember?” He looked terribly worried, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to address it. Your only concern right now was getting away from Tom and into bed. You were so tired. When you didn’t respond to him, stumbling once more into Millie, his expression changed again to one of fury. He turned toward Tom, who had begun inching his way out of sight.

Bucky moved fast enough to exacerbate your dizziness, grabbing Tom by the lapels of his jacket and shoving him against the wall. “You put somethin’ in her drink? Did you do this to her?” The quiet, menacing calm of his voice was a stark contrast to his violent actions.

Tom had the good sense to look frightened for a moment, before flashing his handsome smile at the seething major. “I was just offering to escort her back to base,” he said. “Clearly the poor thing can’t take her liquor. I didn’t do a damn thing to her drink.”

“Like hell you didn’t,” replied Bucky, before he let go of Tom’s jacket and punched him in the face. Hard. Millie shrieked.

Tom fell to the ground in a graceless heap, his nose bleeding and misshapen. Putting a hand up to his nose, he yelled, “What the hell was-”

“You need to get the fuck out of here right now or your nose won’t be the only thing I break tonight.” Bucky’s fist was clenched, blood on the knuckles. Tom scrambled away and was soon out of sight.

Bucky turned back toward you and Millie. “She needs to see a doctor,” he said to your friend.

Millie let out a sigh and replied with a tired voice. “No, she doesn’t; not right now anyway.”

Bucky gestured furiously at you. “Look at her!” You frowned and looked away.

Millie spoke with a cold gravity you had never heard from her before. “I see her, Bucky, and unfortunately, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen something like this. I know how to help, and I’m taking her back to base. Her symptoms should be gone tomorrow, but she needs rest.”

Bucky said nothing for several seconds, then pinched the bridge of his nose. He said quickly, “Alright. Fine. But if anything, anything, seems off, you take her straight to Smokey, understand?”

“I understand. I’ll take her tomorrow, just to make sure everything’s okay.” Millie began leading you toward the front of the building and the street, with Bucky following close behind. Eventually you were back in front of the pub.

Bucky looked at you, began to reach toward you, then put his hand in his pocket. “Let me take you home. Or would a room here be better?”

You stiffened.

“Excuse me?” you said, your head pounding.

Bucky looked taken aback at your sudden tone. “I just wondered if it would be better for you to get a room here for the night so you can rest.”

Son of a bitch.

You pointed a finger at his chest, missing and poking his shoulder. “You. Is this what you wanted?”

Bucky furrowed his brow and shook his head. “What are you talking about? You think I wanted this to happen?”

“I saw you. I saw you looking at us…looking at mm..me. Was this part of your plan?”

Millie, who had her arm looped through yours, put a hand on your shoulder and said, “Honey, I know you’re confused, it’s not your f-”

“Did you think that you would play the knight in shining armor and that...that I would fall into your arms, overcome with- with gratitude? You thought I would g..go to bed with you?” Bucky shook his head vehemently and opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going. “I knew it. I knew that a dance would never just be a dance with you. I knew it.” You swayed, but Millie tightened her hold on you and you stayed upright. “I knew it,” you said to her.

She rubbed your back soothingly. “Okay, honey. Let’s get you in bed, alright?” She turned to Bucky and spoke so quietly you couldn’t hear her over the noise of the music inside. You watched as Bucky nodded, his lips pressed tightly together. He looked back at you, nothing but concern in his eyes. But that’s how Tom had looked.

Fighting the pain at the front of your skull and the increasing urge to vomit in the nearest waste bin, you let go of Millie’s arm and took a wobbly step toward him. He removed his hands from his pockets, ready to catch you again, but you stayed upright. You said to him in a low voice, “I think you’re despicable.” The major said nothing, still watching you with the same worried look on his face. Inside the pub, you heard the pianist start playing “Blue Skies”, followed by at least two shouts of Bucky’s name. “Sounds like you’re missing your ‘signature song,’ Major. Please, don’t let me keep you.”

With that, you allowed Millie to once again wind her arm through yours and lead you away from the pub, hopefully on a path toward your bed. She sighed. “Don’t worry, I told him you didn’t mean a word you said.” You frowned at her, confused. “I’m so sorry; if I had any idea that Tom was such a…” She sighed again. “Never mind. It does no good to apologize to you now when you won’t remember it. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

As you made your way back to your barracks, fighting sleep the whole way, all you could think of was a slow song and two grey eyes staring into yours.

#guys i wasn't kidding about the tone shift but I promise things will get better!#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #john bucky egan #john egan #mota #masters of the air #mota fic #callum turner #reader insert #fanfiction #Spotify

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canadianfangurl-95 · 9 days

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Frankie Morales- Sugar Daddy edition

WOW, I accidentally dumped out over 12 thousand words in two days… so here you go, I guess.

Summary: You are a teacher at a private school in Texas and your colleagues warn you about one of your new parents, Mr. Morales. When you meet him, you’re blown away by the rich, suave, and extremely handsome man. He soon begins pursuing you and you must choose between keeping your job or giving in to the infatuation you feel for this man as he showers you with gifts and admiration.

About: This is the beginning of the sugar daddies AU Triple Frontier collection where each guy will get a f x reader pov story. The events of Triple Frontier are changed; No Tom (we hate Tom in this house), the helicopter never crashes so they make it to the ocean without incident, each taking home $25 million dollars. But these guys are smart so naturally they’ve basically doubled their money by now. Takes place between 7-10 years after the events of the heist.

Frankie is divorced, no reason why explained. No mention of Frankies substance abuse.

Warnings: 18 + minors DNI, age difference, reader is in her 20s, Frankie is in late 40s, smut, oral f receiving (it’s Frankie duh), alcohol, swearing, daddy kink, squirting, basically buckle up kids it's gonna be a bumpy ride

Word Count: 12k +

Long Horn Academy, a private school for the oil tycoons and fortune five hundred owners of Texas to send their kids. It was the dream school for all teachers in the state. Good money, benefits, pension, everything you could ask for. Except of course for the elitist parents and children that treat you more like a servant than an educator. However, it was still better than the public school system that’s for sure. You waited years after teaching college on a supply teacher list in order to finally get your own classroom.

September came around and you were beaming with excitement going over everything you needed for your first year as a grade three teacher at this incredible school. You had gotten to know many of the other teachers at the school during your supply years, so before class started you mulled about the teachers’ lounge with your coffee, talking about everything the year has to bring. Oh, how little you truly knew about how life changing this school year would be.

“I just can’t believe I have my own class and room now! It’s been so exhausting dragging my book bag to every room in the building because I didn’t have a desk of my own.” You beamed to your colleagues, Mrs. Young and Ms. Campbell. Mrs. Young was a seasoned vet in the teaching field, at around mid-fifties, she always sported the most comfortable clothing but still so chic. Ms. Campbell was around your age, she had bright blue hair that caused quite a stir in the school until the principal deemed it a freedom of expression issue and shut the parents down. She wore their displeasure with her as a badge of honor.

Ms. Campbell smiled at you, “Hey girl you deserve it. I had your class a few years ago and they were actually really well behaved, save for this one snot nose kid Randall.” She scrunched her nose up at the memory of him throwing paint at her.

You laughed along, you too had shared a few run in with kids like that.

Mrs. Young interjected, “Oh, you forgot to tell her the best part.” she said to Ms. Campbell, gently swatting her arm and raising her eyebrows, hoping her friend would get the hint of what she was implying.

Ms. Campbells eyes widened, and she grinned at Mrs. Young, you looked between them, trying desperately to figure out this big news.

“You’re right, she’s gonna have Liliana Morales in her class.” Ms. Young stated with excitement.

You looked confused, “Who’s Liliana Morales?” you asked.

“Oh no sweetie, not who’s Liliana Morales, who’s Daddy Morales is the question you should be asking.” She hummed into her coffee, clearly pleased with the situation at hand.

Taken aback you replied, “Okay, who’s Daddy Morales?”

The two women nodded their heads to each other before Mrs. Young responded, “Honey, he’s a rich divorced dad.”

Not at all surprised you nodded, “Okay, that’s like seventy-five percent of the dads at this school, what makes him so special?”

She grinned, “Oh, you’ll see.”

You returned to your classroom ready for the day. Everything had been prepared meticulously in order to make a good first impression with the insanely high standards these parents had. Your room was decorated tastefully with a mix of colour and neutral tones, and you had prepared a tray of lemon bars for the parents to enjoy as they mulled around the room with their children. The parents were allowed to stay for the first period of the first day to get to know the teachers’ style and ask questions, as well as provide any educational information the teacher might need for the children.

Slowly, parents and students started arriving. The majority of them greeted you politely, a few blonde mothers in their Pilates outfits shook your hand with limp wrists, clearly not approving of your attire. They all wore Chanel and Louis Vuitton, labels far out of your budget. There are some teachers at the school that dressed the part, but they were not working with your new hire salary. So, Old Navy was where you got your work clothes.

Smiling politely, you grew more nervous as the crowd in the room became louder. There were so many strange faces you didn’t know how you would get through this first period. You stood near your desk, smoothing out your skirt when a tap on your elbow shifted your attention.

A tall man stood before you, with styled brown hair and a beard with a thick mustache. He wore a light tan blazer, a brown button down and dark jeans. His eyes were bright and brown like a baby cow. You gazed hopelessly into them before registering that he was trying to talk to you.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” You asked, embarrassed.

He smiled, “I’m Francisco Morales, Lilianas father.” He stated, reaching out his hand.

Morales? You thought, oh shit. This must be who the other teachers were referring to. He was so handsome your mouth went dry. You did your best to answer him, “Nice to meet you, I’m Ms. Smith.” You took his hand and shook it, feeling a spark of electricity as your fingers touched. You pulled it back and folded your arms, wondering if the feeling was all in your head or if he felt it too.

He smiled, “It’s mighty nice to meet you too. Liliana is very excited for this year.”

You nodded, “That’s great, I’ve heard good things about you- her, sorry I’ve heard good things about her.” You tucked your hair behind your ear and begged for someone to interrupt.

Unluckily for you, he stayed right at your side without wavering. “How long have you been teaching?” he asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans and leaning on his left leg.

“I’ve been a substitute here for five years and this is my first full time role.” You answered, a little more confidently this time you may add.

Mr. Morales nodded politely, “Well I think that’s great, always good to get some fresh young minds in here to teach us old people a thing or two.” he said, adjusting his sleeve length under his blazer and giving you a kind wink.

You nodded, “I’m glad you’re happy, that makes at least one of you.” You said quietly, more to yourself than anyone else, and looked around the room at the parents swiftly critiquing the lesson plan you had posted.

He looked around at the crowd of people and then at you, noticing how uncomfortable you were. “Hey, don’t give any mind to these people. They’re not happy with anything, trust me.” He leaned in and rested his hand on your elbow. You looked at his kind and sympathetic eyes and immediately swooned. He was so handsome it made you sick, and of course he had to be nice as well. What the hell have you gotten yourself into here. No, no, you thought. It’s just a little crush, you’re sure it will pass.

You smiled kindly at his assuring comment, and he retreated to the back of the classroom, following where his daughter had ended up. You slowly moved behind the desk at the front of the classroom and tapped your fingers on it, now was a better time than ever to get this show on the road.

Clapping your hands together, you alerted the attention of the class that you would be starting. You were met with bounds of questions and critiques from the parents, you swallowed your breath so many times with your nerves you thought you might pass out. Save for Mr. Morales, he stood in the middle of the back of the room, leaning against the large window overlooking the soccer fields with a calm resolve on his face. You let your gaze linger on him far too many times, but you couldn’t help it. Each time you did, his kind eyes soaked your heart with contentment and made your knees weak.

Finally, after almost every parent had cited their concerns, you felt yourself slightly dampened. You took a deep breath looking at the clock. “So, we only have another minute left before the period is over and we break for snack so does, anybody, have any other questions or comments?” Your breath broke during the sentence, hoping not to be met with any more judgement or you might cry.

Just as a particularly snarky mother was about to raise her hand, Mr. Morales quickly popped himself off the window and took a few steps forward. “I would just like to say, I am so excited to see what you have to bring to this class this year.” He spoke confidently but kindly, and seemingly only to you. His eyes burned into yours and made your heart flutter. “I cannot think of a better teacher, to take care of our kids.” He finished.

You offered him a thankful grin and nod, “Thank you, Mr. Morales. I’m really happy to be here.” You held your hands together in front of you. Trying not to break your resolve.

The sound of the bell filled the room and you let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You nodded politely as the parents said their goodbyes and the children rose to get their snacks.

Mr. Morales suddenly appeared at your side, “Thank you for this, you did a great job.” he said, before backing away to the door. Not before sneakily looking you up and down.

Your eyes widened, and your heart skipped a beat. This is going to be trouble.

As the months moved along Mr. Morales’ flirting got more and more obvious. Bringing you coffee and treats in the morning, lingering after pickup to chat with you, that stupid gorgeous smile leaving you desperate for more of his attention. You learned that he and his wife divorced when Liliana was a baby and he shared custody but as the school was on the way to work, he picked her up and dropped her off even if she was his ex’s house. He told you that he owns a construction company and purchased it fairly recently. He was charming and sweet, but not so sweet as you caught him multiple times outright checking you out. You grew more and more embarrassed by your wardrobe, looking at all the amazing clothes the other teachers were wearing. You knew he was older than you, like way older than you, but you didn’t really care. Especially since it was school policy teachers couldn’t date parents, so there was no harm in flirting with a man who was clearly flirting with you.

One December morning you were in the lunchroom with Mrs. Young and Ms. Campbell, discussing your upcoming Christmas break plans.

Ms. Campbell teased you, “So, what’s it like having Daddy Morales in your class?”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s fine, he’s actually very nice.”

“Oh, I know, he’s a Southern charmer darling.”

Sipping from your coffee cup, you hid your grin as you thought of how Mr. Morales made you feel and how quickly you were developing feelings for him.

The last of the kids were leaving your classroom as the end of the day drew near. Mr. Morales crept into the room and gestured to Liliana that he was going to be speaking to you before they left. You stood still near your desk, casually folding the flyers for the Christmas concert on your desk as you awaited his approach.

He moved beside you and turned with his back to the rest of the room. “Hey darlin, how was your day?” he asked with an energetic smile.

You smiled; his informal greetings may have gone a little far past professionalism, but you didn’t mind one bit. “Good, thank you. How was yours?”

“Oh fine, construction isn’t exactly exciting but it’s a good group of guys, so, you know.” He looked slightly nervous, and you grew cautious of the interaction, he always had such a confident and suave demeanor about him. “I was actually wondering if you would be free on Friday night?” he asked, gauging your response.

Stunned, you stuttered, “Oh, um, I’m sorry Mr. Morales, but teachers aren’t actually allowed to,”

“I understand don’t worry.” He interjected, “I noticed Liliana was having a hard time with English and was wondering if you would be able to do some additional tutoring? I’d pay you, it’s my own fault really. We only speak Spanish at home so.” He looked bashful and your cheeks grew red with embarrassment that you thought for even a second, he would be asking you out.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed. Um, yes, I can definitely help you that.” You nodded softly, hoping you didn’t just ruin everything.

He smiled, “That’s great thank you. Do you mind coming round my place at say 5?”

Nodding you replied, “Yes that works, I’ll get your address from her file.”

“Great, thank you again hermosa.” He said as he backed up and gestured for Liliana to follow him.

You simultaneously couldn’t wait until Friday and couldn’t even fathom the idea of being alone with this man you had so much desire for.

Friday evening came and you plugged his address into your phone. You slid into your mid 2000s Ford Focus and headed out. It was a cash car, and your first purchase once you saved enough money would definitely be to upgrade, but that was a long way away. It still felt awful parking it with its rusted fenders beside the Lincolns and Range Rovers that took up the majority of the parking lot at the school.

The neighborhoods you were driving through suddenly shifted more and more into the luxury market. You couldn’t believe the sizes of some of these houses, how could anybody have this much stuff you thought. You finally pulled into the laneway your phone indicated and were met with a long driveway to a stunning stone house with a balcony on the second level facing the road. Your mouth gapped at the size of the estate and the sight of the hoard of vintage and luxury vehicles along the front of the laneway.

Parking your car over to the side so that he may not see it as you leave, you shrugged your cardigan back on your shoulder that it had fallen off and strutted with your tote bag of learning materials to the front door. You looked around casually, there’s no bell. How could there be no bell? Just a large circular knocker in the middle of the door. You bit your lip and swiftly knocked the handle against the dark brown wood door. It made a louder thud than you thought it would, but you still felt anxious that he wouldn’t have heard anything.

When you were just about to grab the knocker again the door suddenly swings open. Leaving you motionless with your hand raised between the two of you. He was in a black button down with sleeves rolled up and khaki pants. You quickly ripped your hand back to your side, “Hi, Mr. Morales, how are you?”

He looked at you up and down briefly, you were wearing black boots with light wash jeans, a snuggly fit blue tank top and a patterned cardigan over top. “Hey sweetheart, doin’ just fine long time no see huh?”

Blushing, you realized you had literally seen him less than two hours ago. He moved in the door so you could slip by him. When you entered you were greeted with an enormous stone staircase cascading up into the second level with exposed railing. There was a crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the room, illuminating you with a stunning glow. You couldn’t help but turn where you stood, shifting your gaze continuously to the next beautiful part of the room you caught with your eyes.

Finally turning around in a half circle, our gaze was met with Mr. Morales, whose eyes were dug into you, enjoying your childlike wonder.

“Sorry,” you said bashfully. “I’ve just never been in a house like this.”

He held his hands together and took a step towards you, "That's okay. Honestly up until a few years ago I hadn't seen anything like this either. It's a bit much for me but Liliana told me she wanted to live in a castle so I couldn't resist spoiling her." He winked at you and gave a sheepish smile.

You giggled, "I get that, she's a really wonderful little girl. I've loved having her in my class."

"Thank you, and for what it's worth we have very much enjoyed having you as her teacher. You might be our favourite." He touched his hand to his chest and spoke so earnestly, it made your gaze drop embarrassingly to his mouth as he talked.

Thankfully before you had to pry another sentence from your desperately dry mouth, Liliana came bounding into the room with a skip and threw her arms around you.

Mr. Morales reached out and took her arm, "Whoa girl, let's give Ms. Smith some space. Why don't you show her to the study, and I'll check on dinner. I hope you're okay with staying for dinner. I thought it was the least I could do for stealing you on a Friday evening. I'm sure your boyfriend would've preferred to spend time with you since we hog you all day all week." He looked at you with hopeful eyes.

You met his gaze, "I would love to stay for dinner, thank you. And no boyfriend so I'm all yours tonight."

He smiled, and nodded at Liliana when she took your hand to leave the room. You briefly looked back over your shoulder at Mr. Morales before you turned the corner and found he was still standing there with his hands on his hips, watching as you left.

A knock came to the door of the study and Mr. Morales poked his head in. "Hey ladies, it's dinner time. Liliana, go wash up. Ms. Smith I'll show you to the dining room."

Liliana left to go to the washroom, and you collected your things. Mr. Morales waited patiently waiting in the doorway. You heaved your heavy tote back on your shoulder and started towards him.

“Here, let me take that.” He said, pulling the strap easily off your shoulder. You nodded, thanking him and followed him through the house. Each room is more amazing than the other. He stepped aside to let you walk first into a stunning dining room. The walls were bright white with a high ceiling and pillars reaching up in each corner. The curtains had a white and blue pattern covering what you assume must be an incredible view. Sat in the middle of the room was a stunning ten-foot polished wood table with matching high back chairs wrapped around it. Your mouth gapped once again at the sight.

He gestured around you to a seat on the right side of the head of the table. There were three settings done with beautiful silver wear and plating. Just as you sat, Liliana came back in and sat herself across from you on the left side.

The table had trays of traditional Chilean food, luckily, Latin food happened to be your favourite.

“I hope you don’t mind the food; it can be a bit spicy.” he said, taking his seat beside you and offering a bottle of red wine.

You lifted your glass to hand to him, “No not at all. I actually love spice.” You said as he took the glass from you, pouring the wine in. Your fingers grazed against each other as he handed it back to you and you nearly dropped it.

“Alright Liliana, why don’t you say grace for us?” He said, after pouring himself his drink.

She happily clasped her hands together and squeezed her eyes shut. You followed suit with Mr. Morales.

“God is great, God is good, let us thank him for this food, Amen.” she said excitedly.

“Well said sweetheart, alright everybody dig in.”

The three of you ate, and laughed and drank. Mr. Morales and Liliana recounting dozens of stories, and you telling a few embarrassing vacation stories from your childhood that made Liliana laugh, and Mr. Morales too for that matter. You all had finished your food long ago when Mr. Morales looked at his watch.

“Oh, geeze baby girl. Look at the time, I’d say you should start getting ready for bed.” He said to his daughter, pointing at his watch.

She slumped in her chair, “Oh daddy, please. It’s Friday.” She put on her best puppy dog eyes that made you giggle.

He rolled his eyes at the obvious tactic, “Okay, you have to go to bed, but you can put a movie on to fall asleep to. Alright?”

She beamed, “Deal. Thank you for helping me Ms. Smith.” She said as she rose from her seat.

“Of course, sweetie, it was my pleasure.” You replied, catching Mr. Morales grinning at the interaction.

Liliana left the room and you stood to grab your plate, to which Mr. Morales quickly swatted your hands away. “Oh no no. Don’t even think about it, you’re a guest you will not be cleaning up this mess.”

“But you made this beautiful dinner, it’s the least I can do.” You protested.

He continued his objection, “Please hermosa, it’s really fine. Why don’t you just go out to the living room and I’ll bring a coffee. How do you want it?” He stood close, closer than you thought you would be comfortable with.

Stuttering you replied, “Just milk and sugar please.” And quickly retreated in the direction he had gestured.

Of course, another stunning room full of beautiful paintings and photos on the wall of Mr. Morales and Liliana.

You rounded an emerald green sofa and sat down, admiring the wood coffee table in front of you with a bouquet of roses on it.

Lost in thought you daydreamed about living here, how stunning it would be to wake up every day and stroll down that staircase. You can’t even imagine how glorious his bed must be if the damn couch is this comfortable.

Mr. Morales caught your attention and placed the coffees on the table. He sat beside you, almost right beside you. You felt your heart skip a beat but reached for the coffee to give your shaking hands something to do.

“These flowers are beautiful, roses are my favourite.” You pointed casually to the flowers.

He looked at you with his cup in his hand. “Thanks, I like them too. They really brighten up a room. So, do you like teaching at Long Horn?”

Nodding, “Yeah, it’s really great. It can be a bit overwhelming, but I do like it.”

His eyebrows knotted together, and an adorable crease split his forehead. “Overwhelming how?”

“Well, it’s just that, most of the teachers there and pretty much all of the parents are in a certain class that I’m not really in so it can be a bit, I don’t know. A bit embarrassing showing up in my car and my clothes and my shoes and well, just not really dressing the part of a teacher at such a prestigious school.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, slightly embarrassed by your honesty.

He scoffed, “Do you think their clothes make them a better teacher than you?”

Shaking your head you replied, “No of course not, it’s more of a status thing, I guess. It’s probably pretty juvenile to feel this way.”

Mr. Morales took a sip from his cup, never taking his eyes off you, “Well, would you feel more confident if you dressed the way they do?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “I guess so, yeah. I think I would feel like I fit in more and maybe would get treated better by some of the parents. But I guess this will have to do for now.” You waved away your thoughts, “I’m saving for a new car right now so I shouldn’t worry about all that.”

He hummed, looking away briefly, deep in thought.

You asked him about his work, he got a bit vague but still answered your questions intently. The conversation flowed nicely, and you enjoyed talking to him. You almost forgot how much older he was because he still had such a youthful humor about himself. He talked about his friends Santiago, Will and Benny. It felt so comfortable, but also bizarre as you were sitting having this lovely conversation in a multi-million-dollar home. You simultaneously felt out of place and right where you needed to be.

Your coffees had been finished and you looked at your phone, “I should probably get going Mr. Morales. Thank you for the dinner and coffee.” You rose from your seat.

He stood with you, “Of course, least I could do for Lilianas favourite teacher. Thank you again for tutoring her.”

You both walked slowly to the front entrance, the electricity between you could power the whole damn house. You picked up the tote bag he had rested against the wall beside the door and turned to him. “Thanks again, have a great rest of your night.”

“You as well.” he replied, rubbing his hands on his jeans. He suddenly realized his place and reached for the door, pulling it open for you. You nodded and left through it. The walk to your car felt odd, the temperature had dropped slightly so you hugged yourself a bit. Fumbling with your keys, you finally get the door open and toss the tote into the passenger seat. Looking in the rear-view mirror as you drove down the long laneway, you notice the front door is still open and his broad silhouette is stood there watching as you leave.

Sunday morning rolled around, and you had no plans, other than to totally veg out in your pjs and watch movies all day. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you had your trusty bunny slippers on. Your apartment was small, but plenty for you. Although you have to admit, it felt a lot smaller when you returned from Mr. Morales’ house on Friday. You were settled in to continue your marathon of the Alien movies when a knock came at the door. You sat up puzzled, you just placed the order for your Popeyes chicken lunch and there’s no way it’s already here. Shrugging your sweater up from where it had fallen off your shoulder you sauntered over to the door and opened it.

You were met with a woman, with brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, a knee length pencil skirt, black heels and a stunning blue silk blouse.

“Ms. Smith?” she asked.

Stunned you replied, “Uh- yes?”

“Great, I have a delivery for you.” She said as she suddenly pulled a luggage card into view that was covered in clothing bags, shoe boxes and small packages.

You huffed in confusion as she pushed past you with the cart.

“Um- I didn’t order anything?” You followed her as she made herself comfortable in your living room.

“Size?” she asked.

Even more confused, you replied, “What?”

“Shoes, shoe size.” She said, gesturing to the boxes on the bottom of the cart.

You looked at her with more annoyance than confusion now but gave her your size.

She pulled about the boxes, putting three of them onto your kitchen table.

“I’m sorry can I ask what this is all about because I am just totally confused.” You waved your hands in the air as you conceded the situation.

Tossing her ponytail behind her shoulder as she ran her hands through the hangers. “These are from Mr. Morales.”

Your mouth gapped, what does she mean these are from Mr. Morales? Did he give you all these? How is this even happening right now?

Before you could speak again, she interjected, “Okay, I am just going to get your measurements, please stand here with your arms out.”

You were at a loss for words, so instead you did as you were told and allowed her to measure your body for sizing. She thanked you and started mulling about the hangers.

You walked towards the table cautiously, looking at the shoe boxes, they all had the same name on them, Louis Vuitton. Your hand slowly opened one of them and pushed the tissue paper aside, revealing a stunning pair of black, red bottom heels. Mouthwatering you ran your finger along the side of them and couldn’t believe your eyes.

The woman pulled a series of clothing bags off the bar and hung them over the edge of your thrift store couch.

“Oh, one more thing.” She said, reaching into a package on the front of the cart. She pulled out a long thin cardboard box and opened it as you wrang your hands together in nervousness. She slid a brown box the same dimensions as the cardboard with gold detailing on it and handed it to you. Your eyes widened as you recognized the iconic Louis Vuitton logo adorned all over it.

“Have a good day.” She stated as she pushed the rolling cart out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

You waved your hand causally before returning your attention to the box. Sheepishly, you popped it open, and your eyes went wide at the five gold and diamond matching bracelet set. It shone in the light and your breath all but stopped completely. You looked around at the shoe boxes and bags of what you can only assume are more designer clothes. Your head spun so hard you had to brace yourself on the kitchen table. This could not be happening; this could not be real. Why on earth would this man give you all this insanely expensive stuff? You put the jewelry box down and straightened yourself up, promising yourself you wouldn’t touch anything until you spoke to Mr. Morales.

The clock ticked on the wall of your classroom Monday morning, you grew more and more anxious to see Mr. Morales. Tapping your fingers on the desk you stared at the door. Finally, Liliana came bouncing in with Mr. Morales on her heels. You swiftly strutted over to him and stood with your stance firm.

He caught the look on your face, and he grew nervous, “Hi, Ms. Smith. How was your weekend?” He glanced at your outfit; eyebrows furrowed at the fact that you were wearing the same navy dress with a stitch missing around the collar that you were wearing last week.

You pulled your lips tight at how casual he was being, “Fine, thank you. Do you mind if I speak to you in the hall?” You pointed out the door, to which he nodded and followed closely behind you.

There weren’t many people in the hall yet as he was always one of the earliest drop-offs, but you lowered your voice, nonetheless. “I had a delivery yesterday.” You stated.

He nodded, “Great, did you like everything?” He did his best to smile, considering your face did not match his.

“Mr. Morales,” You pinched your nose, “I cannot accept a bribe and you shouldn’t feel like you need to I mean Liliana did great on Friday night I think she’s really getting it and,”

He cut you off, “Whoa now, that wasn’t a bribe.” He chuckled.

You looked to him with confusion, “It wasn’t?”

“No.”

“Then, what was it?” you asked, leaning against the lockers beside you and crossing your arms.

He looked down at you, “An investment.”

Your eyebrows popped up, “An investment?” You questioned.

“Yes, you told me you would feel more confident if you dressed the part of a teacher at this school. I want the absolute best for my daughter so I thought if I invested in you then you would be able to be the best teacher you could be.” He tucked his hands in his leather jacket. That damn jacket you thought. It fit him so well and looked so good with his distressed jeans. He must not be going into the office today you thought.

Taking a deep breath through your nose you replied, “I really don’t think I can accept all that Mr. Morales. All that stuff costs more than like, three of my car.” You laughed to yourself at the situation you had found yourself in.

He took a step in, looking around for any other people in the hallway. “Let yourself be taken care of, for once in your life hermosa.” Your mouth fell open at the intense smell of his musky cologne you could now smell with him so close to you. Before you could retaliate, he turned and strutted down the hall.

You watched as he left, still too stunned to speak.

The rest of the week you strutted around the school in your new clothes. The snobby moms that typically gave you a side eye gave you a confident smile and complimented your lesson plan for the next week. You felt amazing gliding down the hallway in your red bottom heels, the gold bracelets dangling from your wrists.

Ms. Campbell nearly choked on her coffee one morning as you glided in wearing a form fitting purple work dress and black heeled ankle boots with black tights and tight blazer snug on your shoulders.

“Geeze what’s with this get up?” she asked, looking you up and down.

Shrugging you replied, “Oh just got some new clothes. I’ve been saving for a while and thought I would treat myself since I’m not travelling for Christmas this year.” A blatant lie you thought, but it was for the best. No one could know everything was from Mr. Morales. There’s no way the principal would accept his “investment” story and you’d be done for.

“So, is your class ready for the Christmas concert?” You asked, trying desperately to change the subject.

She peered at you suspiciously, “Yeah. Yeah, I think it will be good. Will Daddy Morales be gracing us with his presence?”

You nodded casually, “I believe so.”

Another teacher, Mrs. Rodriguez, came in to grab water from the fridge. She was nice enough, but you didn’t cross paths with her much. “What are we talking about ladies?” She smiled kindly.

Ms. Campbell leaned back in her chair to look at Mrs. Rodriguez, “Daddy Morales.”

You scoffed at your friend and gave her a wide look.

Mrs. Rodriguez hummed, “Mmm, Daddy Morales. He’s with your class now, isn’t he?” she asked, pointing at you.

Nodding you replied, “Yes, I have his daughter Liliana this year.”

“Lucky girl.” She commented before leaving the room.

Embarrassment grew in your chest as you worried anybody had picked up on your crush.

Friday evening came, the last day before Christmas break and the day of the concert. You had spent every waking minute preparing for it and were eager to show off your class. Everything was going off without a hitch as you stood at the side watching your class. Liliana had a little solo which she absolutely killed. You nervously peered out into the crowd to gauge the parents’ reactions. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and smiling along with the music. Your gaze suddenly caught Mr. Morales sitting on the edge of an aisle near the front, looking more handsome than ever. His hair and beard are still styled perfectly, wearing a navy knit sweater and khakis. Your eyebrows perked up as you noticed a bulge in his pants with the way he was sitting, widespread so he could rest his left leg in the aisle. All of a sudden, the music stopped, and your class was taking their bow. You shook your head straight and clapped along with the crowd.

The show finally came to a close and you stood in the hallway, saying your goodbyes to the students and parents. A hand tapped your elbow and you turned to meet eyes with Mr. Morales. He looked you up and down, seemingly pleased in the red silk blouse, black pencil skirt and heels you had put together from the selection he gave you.

“Hey darlin, that was a great show.” he said nervously.

You grinned at him, “Thank you, Liliana really stole the show. Where is she?” You asked as you scanned his sides to see his daughter was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s left with my mom; she promised her she’d take her out for ice cream after the show. No boys allowed is what I was greeted with when I asked to join.” He laughed, waving his hands slightly with his story. You giggled along.

He suddenly looked even more nervous than when you had challenged him about the gifts, “It’s kind of noisy over here do you mind if we go for a quick walk?” Pointing in the direction of the classrooms.

Unsure, but entranced, you followed. You couldn’t even feel your feet moving, they just seemed to know where to go.

You walked slowly together, not speaking until you had finally rounded the corner.

Desperate to break the silence that was held together by the utter sexual tension you were trying your best to ignore, you asked, “Is everything okay, Mr. Morales?”

He rubbed his chin with his palm and tried to look at you, “Yes, sweetheart everything, everything’s fine. I just, wanted to tell you that I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you and uh, listening to Liliana talk about you every night.”

Your chest grew red, “That’s great, I really like talking to you too Mr. Morales.”

He waved his hand causally, “Please, you don’t need to call me Mr. Morales. That makes me feel old.” He laughed nervously.

“Oh, yeah that’s fine. Francisco, right?” You asked, still trying to keep up with him as he seemed to have a destination in mind considering the pace he had set.

“Uh- yeah, yeah that’s fine.” He smiled and you nodded.

He finally came to a stop in front of your classroom, you were so entranced you hadn’t noticed this is where he was leading you. He shifted towards the door and turned the handle. You were somewhat confused as your door was locked when you left that day. Hesitantly, you walked past him into your room.

Your mouth fell open as you looked at your desk, it had a large bouquet of roses on it and sitting in front of the roses was a shiny white cushion Chanel purse.

You stopped in your tracks, “Mr. – uh, Francisco what the hell is all this?”

He closed the door behind him and took a few steps over to you, “Just a Christmas gift.”

You spun in your spot, “A Christmas gift? Really you are just too much.” You protested, part of you completely flattered and a part of you concerned.

He stepped closer still, until your bodies were just inches away from each other. Your breath was labored, and you couldn’t see straight. It wasn’t until he pointed up at the ceiling that you finally were able to focus your eyes.

A mistletoe. There was a mistletoe hanging perfectly from the ceiling above you. Your gaze dropped back to his face. He was looking intently at you, scanning every piece of you. His eyes dropped to your mouth, and you felt yourself lean in. He quickly closed the gap and met your lips with his.

His hands found themselves on your waist as you cautiously rested yours on his arms. The kiss was deep but soft, it held emotions from months and months ago and released a pain you didn’t know you were carrying.

You finally pulled yourself back, remembering the consequences of your actions. “I really, shouldn’t be doing this.” You whispered to him.

He looked down at you softly, “Why not? I know you’ve been feeling the way I’ve been feeling all this time. Why not let yourself embrace it?”

Your chest flushed and you released yourself from his grip, “Because, I would lose my job if anyone found out about, about- all of this. The gifts, the kiss. I am not supposed to be doing anything like this with a parent.” You sounded flustered now, your head spinning for all new reasons.

“What if you didn’t need your job?” He asked, trying to follow you in your steps.

You looked at him puzzled, “What do you mean what if I didn’t need my job? Of course I need my job, and I can’t find anything that will pay more in the state.”

His voice turned deeper and his eyes darkened, “What if you didn’t need your job because I would take care of you.”

Taken aback, you can barely stutter out, “What?”

He steps further into you, “What if, we gave this a real shot, and I took care of you. Because I can. Because I want to. You don’t need to move in with me or anything, but I would pay for your apartment until we got to that point. I like you hermosa. I care about you, and I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. I know I’m older than you, but I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life, spoiling you and giving you the life you deserve.”

All you could hear once he stopped speaking was your heartbeat, it was pounding in your chest. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was asking you to quit your job to date him and let him shower you with gifts and love. A beautiful could be stepdaughter that you’ve grown to care so much for. It all seemed too good to be true.

He held your shoulders in his big, strong hands. “One day. Give me one day to show you what your life could be like with me. And if you hate me at the end of it, you’ll never hear a damn word out of me. But just give me one day. Please.”

Something broke inside you, your resolve was gone. You wanted nothing more than to throw your shaking body into his arms and kiss him feverishly. Right now, though, all you could muster was a quiet okay.

He nodded, “Liliana is at her moms on Christmas day, and I know you aren’t going to see any family. So please, spend the day with me and I promise I’ll make it one you’ll never forget.”

“Okay, let’s do it.” You said, trying to be confident.

He beamed, reaching around you to grab the flowers and bag as you shuffled slowly towards the door.

You looked back at him, “How did you do all this anyway?” pointing up at the mistletoe.

He chuckled, “Had to give the custodian a hundred bucks.” He said with a wink.

Christmas day.

This used to be your favourite holiday growing up. You were always surrounded by family and food. The gifts were sparce, due to your dad being on disability from an injury and your mom doing her best to keep everything together. But that never bothered you, until you would see your friends at school, and they would talk about the heaps of toys they received from Santa. Still, you had a wonderful family and that filled your heart as much as it could. You normally go visit your parents for Christmas back home in Florida, but you had saved for the last 6 years to get them a cruise and Christmas was the only time your mom could get off work. You were all prepared to spend the day in your pjs, watching movies and making cookies. Your plans were abruptly changed though, by the man who had all but begged you to go on a luxurious date with him. You figured your circumstances can’t be so bad.

You looked around your apartment, thinking about what this day could bring. If all goes well, you’d be quitting your job after the semester is done in a month and letting yourself fall into a serious relationship. All your time will be spent figuring out if you love this man. Could you? Do you? It was all so confusing, but thankfully he shouldn’t be around for a few more hours so now you just needed to finish your bowl of mac and cheese you reheated for lunch and figure out what to wear.

The bowl had just hit the sink when a knock came at your door. You looked at the clock on the microwave puzzled, once again why was someone here, you thought. Last time you had an unexpected guest, she came with a hoard of gifts, so you weren’t totally nervous this time around.

Your door swung open, and you gasped when you saw Francisco on the other side. He was fully dressed in black dress shoes, black pants with a matching blazer and a deep green button down. You swiftly looked down at yourself; a mismatched pajama set and your damn slippers.

“Hi.” You sputtered out.

He smiled, “Hey hermosa,” he stepped in and kissed your cheek before walking into your apartment.

Closing the door behind you, you ask “Isn’t our date not until later?”

He nodded, “Yes, but you still needed to get ready for the date, right?”

“Right.” You shrugged, looking down at your clothes.

“Right, so let’s go. Grab your new purse and your phone. You shouldn’t need anything else. I’m just going to use your washroom really quick, and we’ll go.” he nodded towards the other side of your apartment.

He disappeared into the hallway that led to your bedroom and bathroom, and you looked around stunned. Okay, you thought, let’s just go with the flow. You’re sure he has a plan for all this. You kicked off your slippers and slid on some boots, stuffing your phone into your purse.

He returned, adjusting his jacket, and smiles at you. “You look beautiful by the way.” He gives you a gentle kiss before grabbing the door.

You scoff at his probable joke, but follow him, nonetheless.

When you get downstairs, you’re met with a vintage Ford Mustang sitting in front of your apartment building. He stepped forward and opened the door for you before taking your hand and helping you ease down into the car.

He joined you inside and fired up the engine, pulling onto the not so busy street considering it was Christmas.

“Where are we going anyway? I’m hardly dressed for whatever occasion you have planned.”

He glances over at you with a knowing smirk, “You know I can’t tell you that sweetheart. Don’t want to ruin the surprises. And actually, you look perfect for where we are going.”

The car finally came to a halt in front of a luxury salon that you’ve only dreamed of going to.

You gasped, “What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see.” He winks as he gets out of the car and rounds the front of it to open your door. He then leads you hand in hand to the entrance.

“I don’t think they’re open it’s Christmas.” You said nervously.

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, I made special arrangements.”

He flung the unlocked door open and gestured to you inside. You were met with a beautiful salon that had antique mirrors and beautiful light pink chairs. A woman with black hair and all black outfit was sitting at the desk and greeted you with a kind smile.

“Merry Christmas Maria, how are you? You know I owe you for this one, right?” Francisco asked, leaning on the desk.

She smiled up to him, “I’m good, and yes yes you do. Ms. if you’d like to follow me, we’ll get started.”

Your eyes widen at Francisco, but he nods to assure you it’s okay.

A few minutes later you emerge from the back in a silk pink robe and the softest slippers you’ve ever felt in your life. He was waiting patiently in one of the salon chairs. You then spent the next few hours getting your nails painted, your makeup and hair done. All the while, sipping champagne, eating chocolate covered strawberries and chatting with Francisco. He didn’t leave your side even once. Constantly complimenting you and grabbing your hand to pepper kisses on it whenever Maria wasn’t looking. He made you laugh so hard your chest hurt and you got a brief scolding from her to keep still, which earned you a juvenile look from Francisco.

“Alright, I think you’re ready to get dressed. What do you think Mr. Morales?” she looked to him after finishing up your hair.

“She’s breathtaking.” he said under his breath but still loud enough for you both to hear.

You blushed and rose from the chair to follow Maria to a back area where there was a curtained changing room with a large mirror in it. The curtains swung closed behind you before you could notice the hangers on the wall. There was a long black evening dress, a pair of black heels and a woven trench coat. You stepped forward to admire the dress, it was strapless and had a slit down the left front of it. It was simple and elegant. You looked down at the bench where the shoes were and noticed a black box. Popping the top off it, your eyes widened when you were met with a strapless lace black bra and panties set. Your eyebrows popped up, realizing your date might not be as wholesome as you thought he was. He was a man after all. You held the bra in your hand loosely, and it created an ache in your core. Your mind drifted off to the thought of wearing this in front of him and he rubbing his hands all over you. Worshipping your body as you know he’d do. You finally snapped yourself out of it and got changed.

You took last look of yourself in the mirror and stuffed your clothes and shoes into the bag Maria had left for you. Grabbing the coat off the hanger you tip toed out of the curtains. When you emerged from the back Francisco was standing in the room still, he turned swiftly when he heard the sound of your heels on the hardwood floors.

He clapped his hand over his heart as you approached, and you smiled. “Be still my beating heart, you look amazing.” He grabbed your hand and spun you around before snapping you close to his chest.

You beamed up at him and offered a soft kiss, which he graciously accepted. “Where to now Romeo?”

“Tsk tsk, always trying to ruin the surprises. Also, you have one more thing for this outfit.”

You looked at him puzzled as he opened his suit jacket and pulled out the Louis Vuitton bracelet box from the inside pocket. Your eyes widened with his sneakiness. “Where did you get that?”

“Swiped it from your dresser when I said I was in the bathroom.” He chuckled, before helping you clasp each bracelet on your wrists.

You both said your thanks to Maria and returned to his car.

The city swiftly disappeared, and you became very much aware of your whereabouts; you were headed to the airport.

Your stunned face must’ve stayed on you the entire time. Peppering Francisco with continuous, what’s and how’s. Until finally you found yourself walking on the tarmac towards a private helicopter, owned by him of course.

He got you up and settled into the passenger seat when you suddenly looked confused. “Wait where are you gonna sit?”

He winked at you, “Don’t worry I’m right here with you sweetheart.” As he climbed into the pilot’s seat. You watched in awe as he got his headset on and got the helicopter ready for flight. He signaled to the tower that he was ready to go and steadily pulled off the ground. You grabbed his thigh with your hand as you tried to calm your nerves.

The two of you toured around the city, the sun was slowly setting as you made your way into the countryside. He pointed out a golf course in the distance and you noticed a helicopter pad near the greens. He set the helicopter down effortlessly and got you both set to get out. He hopped out the door and reached up to take you by the waist to carry you down to the ground.

You walked hand in hand towards the building where a man was waiting, he gestured you both to follow inside. Once inside, you were taken to a stunning ballroom. It had high ceilings with chandeliers situated in multiple spots. Every surface was adorned with Christmas lights and tall ten-foot decorated trees stood in each corner of the room. There was a single table with roses by the far wall with a fireplace. Simple orchestrated music sounded through the speakers and Fransisco pulled your chair out for you as you sat down.

“I honestly can’t believe you’ve done all this; it feels like a fairytale.” You gushed as he poured you a glass of wine.

He smiled at you, “Well hermosa, I just wanted to take today to treat you how you have always deserved to be treated. I didn’t come from money and I know you didn’t either. But one thing I’ve learned is that if you can spoil someone, you should. If you can use physical things to show someone how much you care about them, then you can. It doesn’t need to be this materialistic thing, and I knew from the beginning that, that none of this would matter if you didn’t have feelings for me too.”

You nodded intently with him, “I do, I really do have feelings for you Francisco. I- I don’t know what it is but I’m just so attracted to you in every way I know that I’m supposed to be.”

Smiles radiating off of each other, a waiter approached with a silver plate with a matching covering on top.

“For the lady.” He said, pulling back the top, to reveal a Tiffany jewelry box.

You gasped and looked at Francisco who was beaming at you. The waiter took the box and handed it to Francisco before leaving.

“I know, I know. I’m too much, you’re gonna say.” You smiled at him, holding your hands to your chest. “But I think too much is better than not enough so, I got you one more thing tonight to truly complete the beautiful look you you’ve got going on right now.” He popped the box open and pulled out a gold and diamond necklace.

Your face dropped as he rose from his seat. You held your hair up as he reached around your body, clicking it in place and letting it fall comfortably on your chest. You set your hair down and ran your hands along the jewelry.

“Thank you, this really is amazing. I wish I could do something to repay all your generosity.”

“Your smile is payment enough hermosa.”

Your heart warmed and you reached your hand across the table to take his. He pulled it up and pressed a firm kiss to your knuckles.

The waiter returned with the beautiful Christmas dinner. Fit with roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, veggies, and you ate and laughed together. Everything was delicious you and thought about how this could be your life every day. You could sip wine and eat amazing food with a deliriously sweet man and his beautiful daughter.

Your plates have been cleared and you took a deep breath, looking at him earnestly.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked.

You huffed, “I just, I like you I do. I really do. But I feel like I need to know more about what the future would hold if we were to take this step.”

He nodded, “Do you have any questions in mind?”

Leaning on the table you tapped your fingers to your chin, running through all the possibilities the next 30 years could hold should you end up together. “Do you want any more kids?” You ask.

“No, I think I’m past that. Do you?” he asked, slightly nervous.

You shook your head, “No, I like kids, I mean I have to for my job. But I don’t really need any of my own. But I love Liliana, don’t think I wouldn’t be so so happy to be a part of her life.”

He smiled and nodded.

“When do you think you are going to retire?” You asked, sipping from your wine.

“Well, I can technically do that anytime, but probably in less than 10 years. I do enjoy getting out and having a routine still.” He stretched into his seat as he could tell this could take a while.

You bounced questions back and forth to one another for a while, and continued to be surprised by how well your lives could actually line up with one another. There was just one thing that you couldn’t get off your mind.

“Okay, last question because I think it’s gonna be a doozy.” He nodded, leaning his elbows on the table so he could listen more intently to you. “You never told me what you did before you had this company, or really any stories from before that or before Liliana was born. Why is that?” Your voice grew quieter with each word, fearful of what he may say.

His head dipped slightly, and he rubbed his chin with his hand. Your breath caught in your throat as you awaited his response.

“So, I grew up here in Texas, didn’t have a lot of money so the only real career prospects I had was in the military. I enlisted right out of high school. Spent the next, 15 years I guess as a pilot for special forces. Got out, circumstances changed, had to get back in and then the money I received as payment for a final job allowed me to buy that company. It allowed me to set myself, and my daughter, up for a good life. I didn’t do the best things to get that money, but it has been worth it, so far at least.” His eyes looked sad, he was suddenly nothing like the suave and confident man that had strutted into your classroom all those months ago.

He looked at you like you may completely disappear on him; he reached his hand out, “Sweetheart, talk to me. Please.”

You looked at his hand, taking in everything he just told you. He was such a kind man and had treated you so well in every way possible. He clearly had some broken pieces of himself still inside, but who’s to say you’re not the one to mend those pieces.

Just as he was about to give up hope and pull his hand back, you leapt from your seat and rushed to his side. He quickly followed your lead and stood up to you. Your eyes met his with an intense heat, you looked down at his lips and lunged yourself forward into him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you flung yours around his neck. His tongue pecked at your lips, and you gladly opened them to allow yourselves to deepen and lick your tongues against each other’s. He pulled his mouth free and rested his forehead against yours.

“Are we doin’ this sweetheart?” he asks, breathing deeply.

You swallowed hard, and then nodded your head against his.

The biggest smile you’d ever seen grew on his face and he latched himself back onto you with a passionate moan.

He took you back to his place and you ended up in the living room, still dressed to the nines with champagne and chocolate cake. He had undone the top buttons of his dress shirt, exposing his chest. You drank your champagne and stared at his skin, trying desperately not to reach out and touch it. At this point, you’d had not just a little bit, but a lot a bit of champagne and were really feeling it in your core. Even as he sat before you, explaining what he does on an average day in the office or on a site, you nodded as if you were paying attention, but not a single word was entering your ears as you noticed again how broad his shoulders were.

“So, my head contractor Mike, he,”

“You look comfortable.” You blurted out, taking him by surprise. He looked at you confused, you pointed lazily to his chest, to which he looked down and huffed out a laugh.

“Oh, yeah. Hope you don’t mind.” He said with a wink, noticing how your eyes stayed still on his exposed skin. “Are you comfortable or would you like me to find you something to wear?”

You popped your eyebrows up at his question, “Yeah, fuck. That would be great I’d love to get out of this thing.” You downed the rest of your champagne and stood up from the couch.

He followed your lead and grabbed your hand. You went up behind him on the staircase in the entry way to the bedrooms.

The hallway had doors on doors on doors. You followed him to the one at the very end of the hallway and gasped as he swung it open. The bed was definitely a California King and had a fluffy cream comforter on it with a few pillows scattered on top. The walls had paintings of planes and helicopters, a little out of place from the rest of the house, but more his style. You nearly tripped when you ran to the right side of the room and poked your head into the huge closet. It was only half full of his suits and dress shirts, some jeans stacked neatly on top of the dresser.

“Holy shit, I wanna live in this closet.” You exclaimed.

He laughed, “Well, there’s plenty of room still in there for ya.”

You looked back at him, remembering why you wanted to come up here in the first place. It was not to figure out how to organize your shoes in the closet that’s for sure.

Swaying your hips you returned to him standing near the bed. “Can you get my zipper for me?”

He swallowed deeply, looking you up and down. “I think I can manage.”

With a shit eating grin on your face, you turned and moved your hair off your back, collecting it in your hands.

You felt his warm hands touch the top of your back and you shivered at the feeling. Then, your zipper could be felt slowly making its way down until it hit the bottom, just above your ass.

You turned coyly, keeping the dress up by holding it to your breasts. He stood looking down at you, eyes darkening, waiting. You slowly pulled your hands free from the material and helped it shrug down your body, finally stepping out of it.

He took a step back, admiring your body in the lingerie that had been set out for you. “Damn it hermosa, you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?”

You snickered, reaching out, you grabbed his suit jacket and pulled him back to you, peeling the jacket off his shoulders. He threw it to the side and tugged at his shirt, pulling it out of his pants. You popped your eyebrows up and leaned in for a kiss. You made quick work unbuttoning his shirt as your tongue swept around his mouth. Undoing the last button, he pulled it off his shoulder and past his wrists. You ran your hands down his bare chest and started nipping at his jaw. He smiled into you, caressing your body with his hands before swiftly pulling you up into his arms. You giggled and wrapped your legs around his waist, leaning down to plant a kiss on his open mouth. He turned towards the bed and threw you down onto it. You landed with a laugh and winked at him, making a come here signal with your finger.

He smirked and climbed onto the bed on top of you, slotting one of his thighs between your legs. Desperately lapping each other up you could’ve kissed for hours, but he had better plans for you.

Kissing your neck slowly he moved down your body to your breasts, pulling at the fabric of the bra and allowing one of them to fall out. He grunted lowly before latching on. Biting and swirling your nipple in his mouth, you moaned loudly, and he slid a hand under your back, pulling you up so your aching core was rubbing against his thigh. Your nipple popped out of his mouth, and he looked at you with hungry eyes. You leaned forward to slip your hands under your back and unclasp the bra, throwing it who knows where.

His mouth continued down until it reached the top of your panties grabbing them ferociously with his teeth. His hands took them swiftly and yanked the material down your legs. He stood above you, basking in your bare body and dripping core.

“Fuck me.” Francisco hummed to himself.

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” You replied, giving him a smirk.

Biting his lip he looked down at your pussy, and fell to his stomach to line his mouth up with your entrance. You let out a desperate moan as he slipped his tongue between your folds and licked up into your clit. His technique was incredible, completely undoing you in minutes. Sucking and licking with precision. You were so wet that sounds coming off his tongue were intoxicating.

“Just like that baby, fuck- yes don’t stop, Franc-,” you moaned, hands reaching back to grab the pillow behind you.

With a few more swipes from his tongue and a nudge at your clit from his nose you fell undone under him. Your moan shocked even you and his face never wavered as he let you ride it out on his tongue.

You finally felt your head stop spinning, thinking he would be done when you felt him double down. Your back arched as his two fingers slid inside your dripping pussy. He curled his one finger inside, flicking it out onto your clit while he kissed your thigh. You grabbed the chocolate curls on his head and whined. You didn’t think it could get any better when all of sudden both of hands came to your core and with a finger hooked in you on either side, pulled your sore pussy open to allow his tongue entrance. You felt his warm tongue in parts of you that you never knew one could reach and instantly cried out as your next orgasm not only flowed through you, but all over his face. You squirted on his tongue and beard as he still let you ride out your high.

Coming to a still, you tried to regulate your breathing. He pulled himself up from you and wiped his mouth with his hand, smirking at you. You rose as quickly as your trembling legs would let you onto your knees and licked into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. Grabbing his belt, you undid it and pulled it free before unbuttoning his pants and motioning for him to take them off.

Francisco backed off the bed and pulled his pants, boxers and socks off before returning to you. Your eyes widened not only at the length but the girth he had. He was the biggest you had ever seen in person. You took his length in your hand and offered a few casual strokes, earning a groan from him. In one fell swoop he grabbed your thighs and threw you back on the bed, head hitting the pillows behind you. He laid down between your open thighs and rubbed them.

“Do you have any condoms?” You asked.

“Well, I actually got a vasectomy a few years back and I’m clean so unless,” he replied, gauging your response.

You nodded, “Yeah I’m clean too.”

He smiled and leaned down, pecking your lips with a feverish kiss.

Grabbing his length, he lines up with your entrance before slowly pushing into you. You grab his shoulders to sturdy yourself as the stretch overtakes you. It both burns and feels amazing at the same time. He pushes the rest of himself into your aching pussy and looks at you with heat filled eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so tight hermosa. Feels s’fucking good.”

You nod as he starts moving his hips into yours. You grunt as he picks up the pace, rocking deep into you. “Ugh b-baby.”

He huffs, “Is that really what you wanna call me?”

You looked at him puzzled.

Smiling he says, “You, know. I know that nick name the teachers gave me.” Your eyebrows popped up, “Daddy Morales? You ever called me that?”

Smirking, you shake your head, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sensations building inside you.

“Maybe I want you to call me that, huh?”

“Want me to call you daddy?” you ask with a devilish grin.

He looks down at your body beneath him as he rocks deep into you. “Yeah, I do, I really do.”

You reach your body up and whisper in his ear, “Make me want to.” Nipping his ear with your teeth you laid your body back down and rolled your hands on his chest.

He let out a deep growl and pulled out of you. He flipped you over onto your stomach and slotted your legs together, situating himself with his thighs on either side of you. His hands slid beneath your hips and tugged them up, so your ass was slanted, exposing your already puffy pussy from between your legs. He slid back inside you and squeezed your ass.

The force he had from behind was insatiable, pounding insensately into you. The bracelets and necklace that you still wore banged against your skin with the movement. You felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten again as the over stimulation washed over you. He slapped your ass sharply and you let out a moan. A few more deep plunges and you were launched into your third orgasm.

You grabbed the sheets beneath you and screamed, “Oh fuck daddy yes! Ugh, daddy fuck me!”

He grunted and spilled himself inside you, swelling to an unimaginably bigger size, causing your orgasm to linger and spin your head until you both fell exhausted.

Panting on your shoulder, he let out a huffed laugh, “Fuck, that was so fucking hot.”

He pulled himself out of you and you whimpered at the emptiness you suddenly felt. You did your best to catch your breath and slink out of the bed, grabbing the tossed aside panties and retreating to the ensuite on the opposite side of the room from then the closet.

When you returned, Francisco was lying in bed with his bare chest still out, resting his arm over his eyes. You smiled and jumped onto the bed before sliding under the covers and resting your head on him.

He hummed, “That was really something sweetheart. I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of that.”

Giggling to yourself, you replied, “Yeah, I think you’re pretty much stuck with me now. I don’t think I can find head like that anywhere else.”

He grinned and squeezed your shoulder with his hand, still smelling slightly like you.

“Alright, let’s get some shut eye. I’m a lot older than you and it is way past my bedtime.”

You swatted at him playfully but leaned into him to rest your eyes.

“Merry Christmas sweetheart.” He said, planting a loving kiss to your head.

“Merry Christmas daddy.”

February came and you had officially left your job. A part of you was sad, but that didn’t last long as you spent more and more time with Francisco and Liliana over the last month and grew even closer to them. In celebration of your relationship being official, he rented a box at the Dallas Stars hockey game the first Saturday after your exit from Long Horn Academy.

You were waiting patiently in your apartment for him to arrive when you felt a buzz in your pocket and his name light up with a “here” text. You were wearing leggings, Converse, a simple hoodie and you threw a denim jacket over top as you left. Your Chanel purse draped over your shoulder of course.

Your eyes were met with a blinding light as you stepped into the parking lot of your apartment building. You looked around confused, as you didn’t see his Mustang anywhere. You were about to reach into your hoodie pocket for your phone when you heard a honk and glanced up. There was a passenger side window rolled down of a cherry red Range Rover over to your right, with a certain someone waiving you over.

Leaning into the window you asked, “Who’s is this?

“It’s yours hermosa.” he said confidently.

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“Get in.” He nodded to you.

Your mouth fell open as you climbed in and looked around at the stunning leather interior.

Francisco was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt with white running shoes, by far one of the most casual outfits you’ve ever seen him in.

You reached over and hugged him. “Thank you, this is amazing Francisco baby.”

He smiled, “You know, I know I told you Mr. Morales makes me feel old, but to be honest hermosa. Francisco makes me feel REALLY old.” He said with a chuckle.

You looked taken aback but smirked, “Okay, well now what am I supposed to call you?”

He glanced into the back seat and reached his right arm back. You watched as he pulled a baseball hat with a Standard Oil logo laden across the front and popped it firmly on his head, “Just call me Frankie.”

@rmwarn90

#frankie morales #pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal characters #sugarbaby #sugardaddy #fanfiction #f!reader

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themultifandomgal · 1 month

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Tommy Shelby- Been Lied To

This was a request. Hope you enjoy!

Not many people knew about Tommy Shelby’s first love Greta. Before the war, he believed she was the one, the one he would marry. Tommy promised to come home to her, and she promised she would be there waiting for him when his train gets in. However that promise was broken when Tommy returned home and he’s love wasn’t there to great him. His aunt Polly later told him that she had been ill for some time and Greta’s sister had been looking after her, but she eventually passed away. Little did any of them know the truth.

A 14 year old YN paces the length of her bedroom having thrown a book she shouldn’t of had on to her bed. The book was a diary, here mums diary, the woman she believed to be her aunt was actually her mother and she had been lied to her whole life!

Hearing the door downstairs open then close, YN sees red. Why did she have to be lied to? Why couldn’t she have been told the truth? Running downstairs she sees her ‘mum’

“Hi love I got some of those biscuits you like”

“Thanks mum, or should I say Auntie Kitty”

“YN love, what are you talking about?”

“I’m taking about your diary”

“What? Where did you find that?” mum shouts with wide eyes

“That doesn’t matter!” I yell back “you lied to me my whole life? Why?”

“YN…” mum sighs “I didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to have a child, then when your auntie Greta passed away after having you I thought….”

“You could have just told me. I would have still loved you like you were my mum. Who’s my dad?”

“That I will never tell you. You don’t want to get mixed up with them. Promise me you won’t go looking for him”

“How can I if you won’t tell me who he is!” YN shouts as she storms off upstairs slamming her bedroom door. Looking back at the diary she picks it up again and takes another look at the diary. Rereading YN notices some initials

15th February 1918

Dear Diary,

I’m afraid TS may find out the truth, but I can’t let him. He will ruin the girl with the Peaky Blinders. He questioned me today, said she looked like him and his family. Of course I told he he was stupid and that she is my daughter not his!

TS? Who was TS? He was a Peaky Blinder…. Then it hit YN. TS must stand for Tommy Shelby. Tommy Shelby is her father? Well there’s only one way to find out. Knowing that he was getting married to the old barmaid Grace, YN quickly leaves her room taking the diary with her. She runs downstairs and to the coat rack

“Where are you going?” Kitty asks

“Out!” YN shouts before slamming the bedroom door. Hoping she can get to the church before the wedding starts, YN runs as fast as she can until she seeing a group of men stood outside smoking

“YN?” Turning around she sees Finn Shelby, the youngest brother who she’s knows from school, well when he decided to attend “what are you doing here?”

“Erm” now she’s here she feels nervous, yes she’s angry at her mum, well auntie, but now she’s worried because she’s turned up on her possible dads wedding day. What if he wants nothing to do with her?

“Finn come on Toms waiting” Arthur says stomping out his cigarette

“I’ll be a minute” Finn shouts back “YN what’s wrong?”

“I don’t even know why I though coming here was going to be a good idea” YN says before biting her lip

“Finn!”

“I’m coming! YN what’s going on?”

“I think Tommy is my dad. Look” YN hands the diary over to Finn who takes a look at the diary entry that YN just read. Gingerly Finn reads the diary, his eyes widen at the end

“Shit. Ok you gotta speak to Tommy”

“But…”

“For fuck sake Finn what the fuck are you doing?” John now asks walking over to us

“This is YN, Tommys long lost daughter”

“What?” Finn then hands the diary to John to read

“Holy shit. Greta was your mum not kitty?” John says shocked “I know Tommy had his suspicions, but fuck why would she keep this from him? He had a right to know”

“Right are you guys coming or what because Tommy is getting impatient” Polly walks over with Ada

“Poll we think YN is Tommys daughter” the diary is then passed over to their aunt

“Today of all days, why?” Polly mutters “ok we will deal with this later, but right now we have a wedding. YN head home then….”

“I can’t, or more like I don’t want to. Mum, auntie kitty, fuck I don’t know what to call her now, knows I found the diary. She’s mad and won’t talk to me about this. She’ll just pretend that that diary doesn’t exist”

“Ok ok. Stand at the back of the church, don’t make a fuss. After the wedding we’ll head to Arrow House. We can talk then”

“Ok” YN gives in knowing this probably her best option.

Later on after the wedding Polly takes Yn to Tommys house. They all head into Tommys office, the whole family including Grace

“What are we in here for Poll” tommy sighs lighting up a cigarette

“Kitty lied. Greta was pregnant while you were away at war. YN is Gretas daughter, your daughter Thomas” Polly says throwing the diary onto the table. Tommy runs his hands over his face sitting down

“How do you know she is definitely his?” Grace asks

“Before I went to war Greta said she thought she was pregnant. When I came home Kitty said Greta wasn’t pregnant, but got sick and died”

“Come to think of it after you went away Greta disappeared. Said she was ill, I tried going over to check on her but Kitty wouldn’t let me in” Ada says

“Then all of a sudden Kitty has a daughter” Arthur says

“Did any of you notice a bump?”

“No, but pregnant or not she would have tried to hide it” Polly reply’s to John

“But she was still called names when she first came out with YN”

“So YN really is your daughter?” Grace asks looking at her husband

“I guess so” Tommy looks up at his family “everyone out, except YN. I think we need to talk”

That evening, YN and Tommy talk. Tommy tells YN about he mother, about what she was like and how he loved her. YN has to go home, but over the weeks and months, YN soon finds herself living with Tommy and Grace and their son. At first Grace is weary, but soon warms up the the young girl. For a while YN wanted nothing to do with Kitty, but after speaking to Polly and finding out that Kitty only wanted a child of her own and loved YN with all her heart, YN decided to make an effort with her aunt. But for YN her whole life changed that night all because she found a diary while looking for Irish Whiskey.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x daughter!reader #tommy shelby x you

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stylesharrys · 9 months

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Pranked

A/N: I haven’t written for Peter in the longest time, this also used to be a patron exclusive fic but since I no longer write for tom/Peter over there, I figured you guys could have it!

WC: 1,990

“I’m sorry they did that to you,” he whispers. “It’s not cool. Cassy and her little penguins are just raging bitches. They’re jealous of you, you know? That’s why the dared Jack… they’re jealous, so they try to humiliate you.”

You scoff into him, pulling back to wipe your eyes and get a look at him. His thin lips are gently pulled into a line, eyes bubbling over with sincerity and concern. You wipe your face and sniffle.

“They’re not jealous of me,” you shake your head. “There’s nothing for them to be jealous of.”

It’s Peter’s turn to scoff this time, his head shaking at your words. He reaches closer to brush the matted hair from your tear-stained face and strains a smile.

You get pranked and Peter picks up the pieces.

Your palms are sweating and you’re struggling to keep your breathing even. This can’t be happening, not again, not now. Everything is white noise as you blink at the boy before you.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think we’d end up hitting it off like we did, and I felt awful. I had to tell you. I’m sorry, really.”

His words are muffled through the ringing in your ear and the music blaring through the house, but you still hear them. You can’t take your eyes off him; you’re completely frozen.

Jack scratches the back of his head nervously, eyeing you with regret. “Y/N, I really do like you, you’re a cool chick. But I can’t string you along anymore. I won’t tell anyone about the dare, and I’ll make sure Cassy and her minions don’t say anything either.”

It was a dare. A fucking dare. Three of your so-called friends dared Jack to take you on dates, and make you believe he liked you. They fucking humiliated you.

You nod your head, bleakly. You should be used to this shit. You’d just hoped for once; you’d found friends that actually cared about you. That would support you and do what friends do.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Really should’ve seen that coming,” you laugh out bitterly to yourself.

You’re willing back tears the best that you can; chest right and throat closing. You can’t cry in front of him; you can’t let the situation humiliate you any more than it already has.

Now he pities you, and he will always remember you to be the girl he was dared to date. The girl that no boy would ever actually like off his own back. The girl with no friends. The girl that fell for a prank.

You huff out a laugh. “At least I made a friend decent enough to tell me the truth, right?” He smiles weakly and offers a simple nod of his head.

Jack isn’t a bad guy, not really. Even after pulling such a shitty stunt, you can’t bring yourself to hate him. You stand, wondering if anything he said to you was ever genuine.

You say nothing else when you finally look away from him. Your feet carry you through the crowds of the party when you finally let the tears slip.

You’re left questioning everything; everything Cassy and her friends ever said to you, every nice comment that’s ever been tossed your way since. You feel like the fucking laughing stock like the party was thrown for everyone to take turns in humiliating you.

Breaking away from everyone else, you stumble your way outside. It’s quieter out there, strings of fairy lights tangled in trees that illuminate the path you follow. It’s secluded to the frat house's left, the furthest area away from the pool, and therefore other partygoers.

You sit at the edge of a sun lounger, vision blurred through pools of tears that well in your eyes. And you finally let them fall. There’s an aching in your chest that tears you from the inside out. A feeling of heartache so strong that you feel it in your fingertips.

You don’t understand. Why is everyone so out to get you? Why do people take pleasure in your pain? Why aren’t you good enough for anyone? What do you have to change about yourself to make people like you?

“Y/N?” A gentle voice coos through your thoughts.

Your head snaps up at the sound of your name, face blotchy with tears that you make a quick attempt to wipe away. You sniffle, plastering on a gentle smile in greeting.

In the soft moonlight, Peter Parker stands above you, concern swimming in his eyes. You know Peter, you’ve known him for a long time. And when your eyes meet him, you find yourself crumbling again.

Peter has always been the only genuine friend in your life. You’ve known him for ten years, and at twenty, he’s still just as lovely and kind as he was in high school. He hasn’t turned into some college douche like so many of your other classmates.

He has gotten hotter, though. Puberty smacked him twice, and he’s no longer a scrawny boy anymore. He’s still got the same soft brown eyes and messy locks on his head, but he’s beefed out in a little weight and muscle, and he’s gotten a little taller.

Yet with all that, he’s barely got any better at talking to girls he likes. The thought hurts you when you remember how easily he’s always spoken to you. Just another reminder that not even Peter would like you.

Peter notices the tears in your eyes and steps closer, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks around to see if anyone knows what’s going on.

“Are you okay?” He asks. “What’s wrong? What happened to you?”

You only cry harder at the kindness of his tone. He’s always been such a good person — a little aloof and geeky, sure, but kind and funny. Genuine. He’s always been himself.

“Was it Jack?” He finally asks, shuffling as to sit beside you on the lounger. He’s seen the both of you around campus a lot recently, and while you guys are friends, he’s not hurt that you didn’t tell him you had a boyfriend.

You’re friends, sure, but you don’t sit and talk as often as you probably should.

You sniffle, shrugging a shoulder. You don’t know if he’s more to blame or Cassy and her friends are.

“It was all a prank. Cassy and her minions dared Jack to ask me out. He just told me the truth.”

There’s a beat of silence as Peter takes in your broken words. It hurts him, to see you so upset and defeat.

He’s always thought you were wonderful. Pretty, funny, kind and smart. He’s been one to admire you from afar, one that’s always listened intently whenever you spoke, one that included you in conversation and gone out of his way to make sure you feel comfortable.

And you’ve always noticed the little things that Peter does for you. You’ve always noticed because no one else ever does them. Even if you do it for everyone you meet.

“Oh, Y/N... I’m so sorry.”

You sniffle again, nodding as you bow your head. You feel shameful, absolutely mortified to have admitted that aloud to Peter. And yet, you can’t seem to stop yourself from saying more.

“I just don’t get why everyone feels the need to use me for something. No one ever wants to be my friend. No one ever means anything that they say to me. Pete, why am I such a joke to everyone? Why does everyone play me?”

He doesn’t say anything, just wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his chest. You let him, of course, you do. Despite holding hands with Jack and kissing him a couple of times, this is the most physical touch you’ve experienced in years.

It only makes you cry harder.

You wrap your arms around Peter’s middle as you nuzzle your face into his neck. A hand finds the back of your head, gentle coos slipping past his lips and into your ear. His embrace is warm, safe. You feel a weight lift from your shoulders just from being in Peter’s calming presence.

“I’m sorry they did that to you,” he whispers. “It’s not cool. Cassy and her little penguins are just raging bitches. They’re jealous of you, you know? That’s why they dared Jack… they’re jealous, so they try to humiliate you.”

You scoff into him, pulling back to wipe your eyes and get a look at him. His thin lips are gently pulled into a line, eyes bubbling over with sincerity and concern. You wipe your face and sniffle.

“They’re not jealous of me,” you shake your head. “There’s nothing for them to be jealous of.”

It’s Peter’s turn to scoff this time, his head shaking at your words. He reaches closer to brush the matted hair from your tear-stained face and strains a smile.

“Are you kidding? You’ve got so much that they don’t: a personality, for example. You’re kind, funny, caring… pretty. You’re too cool for them, and they know it.”

His kind tone has warmth rising to your cheeks as you bite back a thankful smile. You don’t know how Peter does it, how he’s the warmth of the sun that dries the ground after it rains. You think he’s far too good, too precious for this world.

You meet his warm gaze, eyes a little puffy, but he doesn’t mention them — even though he finds it absolutely adorable. There’s a swell of pride in his chest at the fact he got to make you smile when you felt so bad.

“And not everyone would play you, you know. Some uh… some people are genuine, and might wanna take you out because they might’ve had a little crush on you for a while, but been too scared to admit it…”

Blinking, you notice the pink on his cheeks, the rosy hue that isn’t from the alcohol. You realise quickly who he’s referring to, and warmth begins to rise to your skin, flames burning from the inside out. Your chest feels tight and heavy, but not in the anxious way it typically has done.

No, this feeling is comforting, exciting. It’s the feeling of realising how stupid you’ve been, how the one boy you’ve always admired from afar has always felt the same for you.

“Yeah?”

You don’t feel worried that this may be part two of Cassy’s plot. Because it’s Pete, and you know Pete. You know how kind and compassionate he is, how thoughtful and respectful. You nearly choke on your spit. This gorgeous boy that everyone slowly started to pine after wants you.

He nods, sheepishly, and then it’s like something flickers in his memory. Peter straightens himself out, a giddy smirk on his face and you watch as he builds his confidence up in quick haste.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “So, do you wanna come back inside… with me and - and my friends?”

You’re nodding before he can finish his sentence, and a smile beams its way across Peter’s face. He stands from the chair, teeth tugging his bottom lip into his mouth as he extends a hand for you to take.

Standing before him, you toy with his fingers, a smile of your own on your lips. “You know, I have a crush on you, too.”

Peters brows raise to his hairline, eyes wide. To him, this day couldn’t get any better. He’s buzzing, trying to fight the need to sprint around the house five times and jump in the pool.

He swallows thickly. “You uh, you do?”

“Yeah. I have done since we were fifteen. But you always liked Liz.”

Peter blinks, can’t quite believe his ears. There’s no way you’ve had a crush on him for almost four years and didn’t say anything to him. How did he not realise? How did he not pick up your change in attitude whenever he was around you?

“I didn’t know you liked me back then…”

You shrug, your smile not faltering. “I know,” you say. “But, you know now.”

There’s a moment of silence, like neither of you can believe how easy this is — how this could’ve been years ago. Peter clears his throat, squeezing your hand.

“So… if I asked you on a date?”

“I’d say yes.”

Another moment of silence.

“And… if I uh, if I told you that I really wanted to kiss you…”

Leaning up on your tiptoes slowly, you pucker your lips gently to press a soft kiss to Peter’s mouth. His eyes flutter closed, hands leaving yours to rest on your waist and pull you closer.

“I’d say yes.”

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 9 months

Text

Boundaries pt. 1

Witch/Demon AU (where the read is a witch and has a pact with all of the demon!141)

The funny thing about having a pact with a demon is that you can technically summon them at any given point. There’s not a guarantee that said demon will show up, as they have their own business to attend to, seeing as you’re a witch with four pacts, you magic is quite powerful.

That’s to say, when you summon the boys, they will come because you force them to.

It’s rare that you do summon them. You understand that they still have a job to do and that they busy often, but when you do summon them, they know that they’re in deep shit.

“I can’t believe I expected any of you to have the common decency to treat my house with respect!” You flail your arms around wildly. “I let all of you into my house, eat my food, sleep here and this is the thanks I get?”

You’ve been yelling at them for nearly 30 minutes now and not a single one of them has uttered a word. They’re all sat on the couch while you pace and stomp in front of them, scolding them like they’re children, which you would argue they are.

Normally it was one of the sergeants that got a got scolding from you (though not to this level) but even Price was in the hot seat this time.

It all started because you needed to deal with some witch business in another city. All you needed was someone to watch your house for you, to keep things in order and to make sure no hauntings get out of hand.

And it just so happened that they boys were on leave, so you figured you could trust them to keep things under control while you were gone for two days.

You were wrong.

The potions you had spent hours making were mixed, destroyed and otherwise unusable because Soap got curious. Price burned a huge hole into your couch and your rug because he dropped his cigar. Gaz had shattered most of the lights in your house due to him getting angry at a game of football, and Ghost punched a hole in your wall because he got scared by an actual ghost.

And then they made it worse by trying to “fix” everything. You came back to a destroyed house seeing red with none of them in sight.

“All of you are banned from my house until you can prove to me that you won’t trash it!” You declared.

“How can we prove it if we can’t come in?” Soap was brave, or maybe just stupid, enough to say something.

“Just get out!”

You very quickly sent them back to wherever they came from and just like that, they had officially been kicked out of the house.

You immediately put up all of the protection wards you knew, did everything that wards demons out, and even blocked off the entire section of the street to them.

To say you were furious was an understatement.

And the boys were devastated.

Not only was their pride hurt because they were just ripped a new one by you, but they genuinely feel bad for what happened. All of it had been an accident, none of them had meant for any of that to happen even when they were trying to fix the mess and made it worse.

They wanted to apologize for it and they tried. They sent you texts, tried to call you, even sent you emails and letter mail to get in contact with you but you were giving them the silent treatment.

You completely cut them off and they were starting to really miss you. How could they not? You were their little witch and they wanted to see you again to let you know that they wouldn't let it happen again.

So after a lot of bribing and begging from everyone you heard a knock on your door a few weeks later and opened it to see a woman with blonde hair.

"Can I help you?" You wondered and she gave you a smile.

"I'm Kate Laswell, I work with Captain Price and his boys." She introduced herself and you stared at her with confusion. "You're the witch, correct?"

She couldn't be a demon or else she wouldn't have been able to even get to your front door. She looked human, though looks can be deceiving, but you couldn't think of what she could be.

"Can I come in?"

A/N: will finish this hopefully tomorrow just had to get this out

#witch!reader #demon!141 #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader

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childotkw · 5 months

Note

In dark side of the moon, can we hear a little more about Riddle's take on things? Particularly regarding Harry?

Tom was, admittedly, a little embarrassed that it took him so long to really notice Evans.

Dumbledore’s son - and wasn’t that a disturbing notion, that someone somewhere had looked at the man who regularly wore outrageously coloured robes decorated with bumblebees and snitches and fluffy clouds and thought him desirable enough to sleep with - had initially flown beneath Tom’s radar. Oh, his arrival at Hogwarts had sparked much conversation, but his actual presence?

Tom hadn’t given the young man much thought. He had had him categorised and labelled in a neat little box from the very first mention of his existence.

Any son of Dumbledore was surely a steadfast believer in his father’s doctrine after all, and therefore not worth Tom’s time.

That impression has lasted only a few weeks.

Word had spread about Evans’ mentorship of the Shame of Slytherin, Nathan Ciro, but Tom had never seen the two together. It had been a point of discussion amongst the school and their House in particular - Dumbledore’s offspring taking a Slytherin under his wing, yet another sign he had dismissed - but for all that people were baffled by the choice, no one seemed to know much of anything about the relationship. How or even why it had come to be.

It seemed like fate that Tom was the one to stumble across the pair. Without even trying he had accomplished what so many others had not.

As it should be.

He had only seen Evans from a distant before, and the man had never struck him as someone particularly intimidating or imposing. He was short, slender, dressed plainly, and the frankly hideous glasses he wore were the only thing Tom could make out of his face - another point, everything about the man was so carefully constructed to be forgettable, Tom really was a fool - but his voice was distinct.

Tom slowed momentarily when he heard the muffled sound of a conversation, then crept closer. It was late in the afternoon, still an hour before dinner would be served, but the dungeons were normally quite empty at this point. Classes had let out ages ago, and most Slytherins enjoyed basking in the sun before they had to return to the cold hallways that bracketed their common room.

He peeked around the corner, and immediately felt his interest pique.

Evans was squatting before a curled up Ciro, staring at the younger wizard with a painfully kind expression.

“- it didn’t work.” Ciro was mumbling, hiding his face in his knees.

“It was your first try, you can’t have expected to get it right straight away.” Evans’ voice was low and patient, not dissimilar to how he spoke in classes, but with a heavy kind of intensity in it that caught Tom off-guard. “Most wizards and witches never master it.”

And that intrigued Tom more. Just what was Evans teaching Ciro?

The other boy said something else, inaudible from how his mouth pressed into his knobbly knee. Evans huffed a laugh, poking Ciro with his wand. “What’s the rule, kid?”

Ciro shifted, unfurling a little. “Head up,” he grumbled, clearly reciting this so called ‘rule’. “I said, you mastered it, and you were younger than me when you did it.”

“I was,” Evans agreed easily, his smile sliding into place with an ease Tom was briefly envious of, “but I also had a hell of a motivator to get it done.”

“What, were you being harassed by dementors?” Ciro asked, his tone far more snide than Tom was used to. He could count on one hand the amount of times he had heard that level of life in Ciro’s voice. Certainly not in the last year had he shown that much fire.

But that knowledge felt secondary to the implication behind his words.

Dementors. A difficult spell. Surely they weren’t talking about the patronus? And Evans had supposedly mastered it before he was fourteen?

“Well, maybe not ‘harassed’, but I had a few run ins,” Evans said blandly, as if most wizards would survive one encounter with such a creature. Ciro goggled at his mentor, mirroring Tom’s own incredulousness. “The point is, I learned the patronus under a lot of pressure. I needed it to protect myself, so I pushed myself. You don’t have that driving you - and you should be bloody glad for it,” Evans added when he saw whatever expression crossed Ciro’s face.

“Then why are you trying to teach it to me?” Ciro’s voice was small. “If not everyone can master it…why bother at all?”

Evans sighed, his face creasing fondly as he ruffled the boy’s hair. “Because I know you can do it,” he said simply, as if the very idea that Ciro would not be able to produce a fucking patronus had never crossed his mind. “Kid, Nathan, you managed to produce mist on your first try. That alone is incredible. It took me weeks to get that far, and I had a far better teacher showing me the ropes. You’ll get there, but you have to be patient with yourself. I’ll be right behind you every step of the way, okay?”

Tom stood there, feeling oddly breathless as he watched the scene play out. He couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation, his ears flooded by the rush of blood.

He felt, strangely, as if something fundamental had just shifted inside him, and that was -

Exhilarating.

#scienceontheweekdays #HP #dark side of the moon au #harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry

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lonelycowgirls · 1 year

Text

Been There All Along

Another concept nobody asked me for coming in hot...

I don't know about you, but I love the thought of Harry being in a long-term relationship. Call me old-fashioned, but the idea of him being truly in love with one special person since before One Direction just makes me feel all the feels!✨

So, I took influence from @satanhalsey's Since Forever universe - if you haven't read their writing you simply must because it's amazing - and here is my take.

For a bit of background, Stella is a midwife and Harry is everything he is in real life. This is a taster to their story, I'll see if you all like it first...

Please like, reblog and follow if you enjoy it!

My asks are also open for feedback and ideas to how this universe can continue.

Nel xxx

Where Stella goes to Harry’s last night at Madison Square Garden and gets a call that could change everything

Part one of two

“He’s so amazing, Stell. You must be so proud.”

Stella nodded to Jeff, Harry’s manager, who stood beside her in the arena. She couldn’t believe that little Harry Styles from Cheshire was selling out 15 consecutive shows in New York City. After 13 years together, she’d seen him play endless amounts of shows, not all of them he’d left feeling happy with but every one of them feeling grateful. He’d been blessed and in turn, she’d been blessed too. But they’d been through hardship recently, and she was beginning to lose faith in them as a couple and him as a partner - something she’d never seen coming.

“You’ve become exactly what we always feared. You’ve become selfish and egotistical… you’re all... Hollywood now. Remember who you are, Harry. Remember the kind of person you wanted to be. Remember us… Remember where you came from.”

That was the last thing she’d said to him before he’d hung up on her in a huff. But she was there, of course, at the last show of his residency. Because she was always there. She was starting to worry that that was their problem. She was always there, no matter what. He, on the other hand, couldn’t always be there. He’d missed her graduation from her midwifery course because he was on tour with the band. He’d missed her beloved Granddad's funeral because he had a movie premiere he was contractually obliged to attend. He’d missed her brother’s wedding because, “we’re running really behind on the album, Stell. I can’t miss a single day, the release date is literally a month away.” She’d cried all evening from embarrassment. And from the seven shots of tequila that she’d downed before the first dance.

But still, she was always there. Because she loved him and she loved being there.

They hadn’t spoken since he’d hung up on her that night she’d had a go at him. She wasn’t someone who lost her temper easily, so it truly shocked Harry when she spoke to him in the manner that she had. He was shaking when he’d hung up the phone. Out of anger mostly, but also out of fear. Fear that he could actually lose her this time. That all they’d been through would be a waste. He didn’t know what being without her was like. They’d been a partnership since they were teenagers. 13 years on, he didn’t know his world without her.

She clapped along to Treat People With Kindness and did an awkward small two-step to Cinema, inwardly cringing at, “you’re getting yourself wet for me,” just like she always did. Harry hadn’t even written that line but Tom knew the fans would love it. She didn’t like the line and thought it was too on the nose and tactless. Harry was clever and artistic when he wrote music. And they were so private as a couple that it cringed her out to no end to think other people were thinking about and imagining their sex life. Never once had he uttered those words to her because they both knew it would kill the mood. She loved when he talked dirty to her, but not if it sounded like he'd ripped it straight off a porn film.

She actually felt nervous in those moments before the encore. She knew he’d want to see her but she didn’t want to feel the awkward tension that would probably encase the room that surrounded them. She got her phone out to look at the time and saw a text from a friend at work.

George: 9.55pm

Mel’s gone into labour

George: 9.55pm

Got it dealt with but thought you might want to come in to support her x

George: 10.02pm

Let me know!

The hair on her arms stood up on end. She’d been reviewing Melanie’s pregnancy for practically the whole eight months, she wasn’t due for another three weeks. She’d grown very fond of her as a patient and knew that she was having the baby regardless of the fact the father wanted nothing to do with them. She vowed that she wouldn’t miss the birth and would be there to support her. Trouble was that she was thousands of miles away… in New York. Harry had the means to get her back in six hours but she didn’t know how he might feel if she was to shoot off while they were having issues. Just as Harry was rising back to the stage to sing Sign of the Times she tapped Jeff on the shoulder and held up her phone to signal she was taking a call. He nodded and turned back to cheer on his friend.

Stella: 10.09pm

How far along, G?! x

George: 10.09pm

Not far at all, water’s only just broke and no contractions

George: 10.09pm

She’s only just left her house

George: 10.10pm

Wouldn’t have messaged if I thought you wouldn’t make it

Stella bit her lip in thought as Jeff put a hand on her shoulder, she jumped and swung around. “Last song.” He said in her ear, meaning it was almost time to head backstage. Harry usually headed straight to the vans waiting outside, meeting Stella in the backseat and the two of them journeying back to their hotel. Tonight they were planning to celebrate a little longer at the venue with the crew. Jeff said the arena had a surprise for Harry and that when the last song came on they would all move together to a designated area closer to the stage so that Harry could see them clearly.

She followed Jeff and the rest of Harry’s extensive entourage behind security guards. She thought about the afterparty and tried to imagine herself drinking and mingling whilst she knew Melanie was giving birth, without her. It was Harry’s last night at The Garden… but she had to go. She glanced back up at Harry on the stage, and then caught sight of Olivia’s silhouette dancing wildly with her friends to Kiwi. She questioned whether if she left tonight, the shoulder Harry would choose to cry on would be Olivia's. Would she be pushing him straight into her arms? She shook her head to rid the thought and made the decision. She turned and split from the group to rush back to Harry’s dressing room and pack her bag. There wasn’t time to go back to the hotel, she’d have to hop a jet with what she’d brought to the arena. Luckily, she always carried her passport as ID when she was in foreign countries. Her hands shook with adrenaline as she used one to stuff things into her tote and one to call Harry’s travel manager.

“Stella? What are you doing?” Jeff said from the doorway. She glanced at him before snapping back to put the phone to her ear.

“I’ve gotta get back home, Jeff. Ugh, why aren’t you picking up the bloody phone?!” She groaned in frustration as she redialed the number.

“I can get you a cab back to the hotel, Stell. Just let me g-,”

“No, I mean I need to get on a plane back to the UK and these bloody people aren’t answering!” She began to anger. Jeff frowned and turned when he heard footsteps down the hallway. Harry’s brow furrowed as he caught eyes with his confused manager who just shook his head back before stepping aside to allow him to enter the room.

“Stell? You alright?” His first response was to be concerned at how flustered she looked. But he felt uncharacteristically nervous in her presence because of how they’d left their last conversation. He stepped across the threshold as she put the last of her belongings into her bag and zipped it closed. “Going somewhere?” He laughed humourlessly, never expecting her to actually be leaving on a night like that. One of the most special moments in his career. He’d looked over, teary-eyed, to where he thought she’d be stood as his commemorative banner dropped and he saw everyone but her. He saw Jeff, Glenne, James, and even Olivia. He imagined there would be an influx of gifs and videos of his face falling all over social media by the time he got into bed that night and unlocked his phone.

He saw her bursting tote bag and felt his stomach turn over. “Has something happened? Is your mum okay?” He said turning her to look at him with hands on her shoulders.

“Yes, Harry. Everyone’s fine but I need to go home,” she looked up at him and sighed, avoiding his eyes. “I need a plane.”

“Oh, why? Urgently?” She’d shaken off his hands from her shoulders and was heading for the door. “Stell, everyone’s in the other room waiting to celebrate. You need to tell me what’s going on or I’ll start to think this is it.” Stella's shoulders sank and she sighed deeply. Even just hearing him talk about them ending like that made her feel sick.

“I need to go back home because a patient of mine is in labour. George texted me during the show.”

“Seriously? You want to travel eight hours to see some woman give birth, something you see every day, when we haven’t seen each other in weeks? When I haven’t seen you since you had a go at me over the phone?” She swung back around and jumped when she realised how close he was. He looked angry, but when Harry looked angry he looked about as intimidating as a growling puppy.

"Come with me then!"

"Really? That's unfair, you know I can't do that." He said defeatedly. "Stell, she's just another patient, you'll have hundreds more to take care of in your lifetime." He said, softer, trailing his fingers down her arms to hold her hands in an effort to convince her. She snatched her hands away.

“Are you serious right now?” She poked his sweaty chest. “She’s not just a patient, she’s a woman in my care. She’s someone I’ve spent most of my time with for nearly a year and someone I’ve grown to care about.” She turned to walk down the hallway, him following close after her. She whipped around again in frustration. “You’d know all about it if you paid attention to anyone talking about anything that wasn’t to do with you.” His eyes blazed and he opened his mouth to argue before they heard someone pointedly knock on the wall.

“Hey, H, we’re all waiting to toast you.” Olivia smiled from the doorway of the catering room. They both turned to look at her and Stella breathed deeply through her nose and glared at Harry when he glared back.

“Go on, H," She made a point of using the nickname. "You deserve to celebrate.”

“Stella,”

“Just get me a plane and I’ll be out of your hair.” She smiled, short and tight-lipped, checking her phone for the time, every second she spent arguing with Harry was time she couldn’t afford to waste. He stepped forward so that Olivia couldn’t hear as clearly.

“If you think it's more important, sure, I’ll get you the plane.” His nostrils flared but she stayed stoic. “This hurts me though, Stell." She softened slightly at his words. "How do you think it’s gonna look to everyone that you raced off somewhere instead of being here for me?” Stella scoffed. She couldn’t even force herself to argue with him anymore, she couldn’t believe how selfish he’d become. She didn’t even want to look at him, he was nothing like the boy she’d fallen in love with. She took her gaze to the floor to keep from rolling her eyes. He nodded in submission. “I’ll go get Jeff to sort the plane out. Hope you get there safe.”

Stella sat in her aeroplane seat, taking deep breaths to keep herself calm as they flew over France. She was so close to returning to the UK and ached to take her phone off of safety mode. But a part of her was thankful to switch off, to be forced to stop doom scrolling through endless pictures and videos of Harry that fans would post on social media after a show. She prayed that Melanie was holding back, that she’d make it on time. The way she’d left things with Harry made her very anxious, to the point where she’d picture him and feel nauseous with anxiety. They’d never been in such a state. She questioned every move she’d made leading up to boarding that plane. The plane that he would end up paying for. She shook her head and leaned it back on the headrest, closing her eyes and running her hands over her face. She didn’t want to cry in front of the crew, she couldn’t trust whether they’d be taking pictures, despite it being a private plane company. All the years with Harry had caused her to become paranoid.

“Would you like another coffee, Miss Mallone?” Stella jumped again, the day’s events had caused her to have the serenity of a doe in headlights.

“Oh, yes, please. Thank you so much.” She said, smiling softly at the kind air hostess, she looked barely 21 years old. ‘Caitlin’ was written on her gold badge pinned to the lapel of her sleek navy blue skirt suit. Caitlin probably knew exactly who she was, and probably wondered why Harry wasn’t on the plane with her. Stella went red with embarrassment and awkwardness and lifted the beige cashmere blanket up to her chin. She rolled over to her side in her reclined seat and stared out at the passing clouds through the small plastic window. She glanced at her watch, around ten past eight in the morning back in London. About five o’clock in the morning back in New York. She thought of Harry, she couldn’t help it. He’d probably just be getting back to the hotel after a night of celebrations. He’d flip the lamp on, and see her suitcase that she’d had to leave to go straight to the airport. He’d roll his eyes as he collected up her makeup that was sprawled across the bed where she’d sat in her fluffy hotel dressing gown an hour before the show, dragging eyeliner across her lids in a rush because, as always, she’d been running late. He’d see her neatly folded stack of fresh underwear and pyjamas that rested on top of her pillow, ready for when they stumbled through the door, full of Champagne bubbles and Don Julio shots, giggling with wandering hands and greedy lips. Perhaps he’d smile a bit at the clothing knowing she’d done the same thing since the first time she’d stayed the night at his mum's house. He’d imagine her doing the same for their children, so they could have cosy memories of when they stayed at big fancy hotels away from home with mum and dad.

She opened her eyes when she felt a slight shove to her shoulder and turned to see Caitlin again, the lights were off, replaced with a low twinkle from the warm strips that glowed from the overhead bag compartments.

“Miss Mallone, apologies for disturbing your nap. We’re preparing to land in ten minutes.” Stella nodded, still a bit out of it and wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth and cheek with her thumb. Caitlin helped her push her seat back up from its reclined position and handed her a glass of water, assuming correctly that she’d have a dry mouth.

“Thank you, Caitlin.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Mallone?”

“No, thank you, you’ve been fantastic,” Stella smiled genuinely at the young girl who nodded. “Just ready to get home now.” She leaned forward to take a big gulp of water before resting back, clipping her seatbelt and bracing for landing.

As soon as the tyres hit the tarmac and she was ensured that she could turn her phone off aeroplane safety mode, Stella called George. She skipped over the texts from Pauli checking on her and went straight to dial.

“Hiya Stell, she’s still going,” Stella sighed deeply in immense relief. She grabbed her bag with the phone to her ear and nodded to the flight crew as they lined up to show her off the aircraft. “Where are you now?”

“Literally just getting off the plane,” she walked over to the car that had been organised to take her straight to London Royal Hospital. “Tell her I’m coming, won’t you?”

“She already knows, she said to tell you you’re mad!” Stella chuckled and sunk back into the soft leather, thankful for the heated seats after coming straight from the heat of New York City, and being dressed accordingly. She stressed to George to keep her updated and then hung up. Tapping through to the messages app, she navigated to Pauli's chat.

Pauli: 10.24am

You good, S?

Pauli: 10.35am

H said you dipped, you've spun him out

Me: 11.02am

Tell him I’m fine x

She tapped out the message and locked her phone to watch London go by as she sped to her destination. She was fine, regardless of how she couldn’t sit still and how her hair had become greasy with how many times she’d raked her fingers through it. She thought it was nice of Pauli to check on her, but she knew Harry was pissed off and would most likely be puking up the walls by now. He never handled anger well. With all the free booze, she knew he would be taking everything offered to him when he was in a certain headspace. She just hoped Olivia wasn’t an option on that list. But she couldn’t imagine him doing something so hurtful.

Finally, the driver pulled up after getting stuck in what felt like endless traffic. She rushed through the double doors of the hospital and ran past the desk to the lifts, bashing the button to call it.

“Morning, Val!” She exclaimed as the maternity check-in clerk frowned in her direction, confused as to what she was doing there when she’d booked the week off.

“What on earth ya doing here, girl?” She yelled brashly in her Jamaican accent, waddling behind Stella as she whipped her way through the ward towards the staff changing rooms to get into her uniform.

“I couldn’t miss Mel’s birth.” The older woman’s face fell before she kissed her teeth and threw her arms in the air, stomping and mumbling back out to man the desk. Thankful to be ridding herself of the clothes she’d travelled almost seven hours in, she opened her locker and grabbed her scrubs and shoes. She bundled her hair into a, ‘as neat as it’s going to get,’ top knot and washed her hands and forearms with warm soapy water. She took a deep breath in the mirror and tapped at her under-eye bags to try and get the blood flowing and skin de-puffing. Stuffing her belongings into her locker she exited the changing room and as luck would have it, ran straight into George, the head of her department.

“You’re here!” He said, wide-eyed. “Come on, she’s well on her way now. Doing brilliantly.” He marched ahead of her back to the ward and drew back the curtain to where Melanie was led, belly strapped up and gas and air flowing. “Got a visitor for you, Mel.”

Melanie’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she saw Stella peek around the corner. “Oh my God!” She tried to get out but it came muffled due to the tube she was holding in her mouth. Stella manoeuvred herself around the side of her bed into Mel’s open arms for a squeeze. “You must be mad, Stell. Oough.” She groaned the last part, contractions taking over.

“Alright, how are we doing with examinations? Dilation stats?”

“She was at four centimetres half an hour ago. Contractions seem to be every three minutes.”

“Okay, so we’re definitely in active labour. Shall we do another quick check?” Mel groaned again and took a good pull off the tube, turning onto her back and spreading her legs. It’s true when they say dignity goes out the door in childbirth. Stella manoeuvred the stool over to where Melanie’s legs were perched on medical stirrups. “Okay,” she said, lubing up her gloved fingers and diving right in. “Hmm, just relax for me, Mel. That’s it, well done.” Mel leaned her head back and groaned in pain as she contracted once again, the pangs coming faster as time went on. Stella pulled her hand out and passed the glove to George to get rid of. “That’s about seven centimetres. Time to get you through to the delivery room I’d say.” Stella grinned excitedly at Melanie, she always tried to keep the energy positive during labours, especially for first-time mothers who would usually be terrified. She moved up to the head of the bed and stroked back Melanie's hair away from her forehead. She was well and truly sucking the life out of the gas and air machine by then. Her watery blue eyes stared up at Stella with worry and pain. “It’s all going to be fine. We’ve got you.”

The room turned to chaos as the curtain was yanked back and nurses flanked each side of Melanie’s bed as they wheeled it to the nearest free delivery room.

Part two coming soon!

Author's note: I realise this is the second angsty piece I've posted on here... we're 2/2 now.

I guess I really am a messy bitch who loves drama.

#harry styles fic rec #harry styles #harry styles writing #fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles headcanon #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic

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pedroscurls · 5 days

Text

chance encounters | pt. 4

character(s): we got all the Triple Frontier boys in this chapter (obvi except Tom). Benny Miller, Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Frankie “Catfish” Morales, fem!Reader summary: You've won the last four of your fights and now you're undefeated. With Benny and the rest of the guys helping you through your grief, you start to believe that things are getting better... you start to feel like you can live your life. Until one day brings you back to square one and you demand a title fight that you're not ready for. word count: 3.1k a/n: Grief isn't linear... I feel like every chapter is a special one to me, but this one... It hits close to home more so than the other chapters. Hope y'all enjoy. warnings: grief series masterlist | ultimate masterlist

Since Frankie and the guys surprised you at the beach, things seemed to be getting better. You feel hopeful that you’re able to move forward and continue to live your life, even with the absence of your best friend. Sure, there are still days where your grief cripples you, but you’re able to pull yourself out of it much more quickly. It helps that you’re now able to allow people in to help you.

It’s been a couple of months since that day on the beach and you’re much lighter. You don’t feel a heaviness that sits on your chest at every waking moment of the day. Even when you go to train with Benny, you allow yourself to actually have fun, to smile and laugh. It’s been such a long time since you felt like this and you weren’t sure that you ever would.

You and Frankie talk almost every day. If it’s not over the phone or through text, he arrives at the gym with the rest of the guys at the tail end of your training session with Benny. It’s almost like you settle into a routine with him and you would be lying to yourself if you said that his presence provided a calmness that you haven’t felt in so long and a calmness that you didn’t realize you were yearning for since losing your best friend.

He sometimes gives you a kiss on the cheek when he greets you, hand on your lower back. Frankie will usually pull away slowly and look at you through the tops of his eyelashes, nose brushing against yours. You know there’s a mutual attraction, but you’re not there yet. You aren’t sure if you can ever get there, but he doesn’t ever pressure you. Frankie silently acknowledges it, acknowledges the fact that you aren’t ready for more than just friends, and instead, he just gives you a small smile and a single nod as if to say, I know. I’ll be here when you are ready.

And truthfully, you’re thankful. You’re thankful for Frankie, you’re thankful for Benny, for Will, for Santiago. When you found out that your best friend died about nine months ago, you didn’t think that moving on with your life was possible. Though, part of you is still afraid. You do your best to be open, to rely on Frankie and the rest of the guys, but if you’re being honest with yourself, you’re afraid to get too close to any of them even though it feels like you can’t even imagine life without any of them anymore. The possibility of losing any of them sits uneasily in the pit of your stomach. You know it’s highly unlikely that anything bad would happen, but at the same time, you’ve gotten used to being on edge after losing your best friend. You never thought that you would ever lose him this early; you always imagined that he would be right there next to you as you both grow old, your own families just as close as you were with him.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

You were going to grow old. Without him. And it still hurts. To know that when you get married and walk down the aisle, he won’t be there. To know that when you may become a mother, he won’t be there.

And it seems like all of those things seem so out of reach, like it isn’t what you want anymore.

Even getting close to Frankie as you are now, it’s scary. You know that you have feelings for him and you’re aware that he has feelings for you, but you can’t bring yourself to get there… To lean in to kiss him, to have him spend the night because that means opening up your heart again and allowing him to settle into it with the possibility of losing him.

And you aren’t sure if you can handle that kind of pain again.

—

“Undefeated,” Benny grins proudly. “Four fights in and you’ve won every single one of them.”

“Helps to have a good coach,” you smile, leaning back against the cage. Your training session just ended, always a dripping mess of sweat at the end of it. Benny pushes you to your limit every time you train with him, never allowing you to ease up even if it is only training. And you’re grateful because it transcends into every fight you’ve had so far. Even when you get rocked, even when you want to give up, Benny always reminds you that you’re just not wired like that. Your fighter name is The Warrior for a reason.

“You know I love compliments,” Benny winks. “Keep ‘em coming.”

You roll your eyes and lie back on the mat, staring up at the ceiling as you continue to cool down and catch your breath. “You and the guys heading out tonight?”

“I think they’re actually gonna bring dinner here. Wanna stay?”

“Sure, that’d be nice.”

Benny smiles. “I’m proud of you,” he says softly. “I know losing someone isn’t ever easy, but–”

“Frankie told me you guys were all former military,” you interrupt.

“We’ve lost people,” Benny nods. “Lost someone very close to us. There used to actually be five of us.”

“Frankie mentioned that, yeah.”

“You and Frankie talk a lot, hm?”

You look over at Benny and see him grinning in your direction. You know where his mind went and you reach over to gently slap his leg. “It’s nothing like that.”

Benny scoffs. “I have eyes. We have eyes. Plus, he talks a lot about you.”

“He does?” you ask, brow arching. “I just like being around him.”

“Well, good. He’s a good guy. Been through a lot. We all have, but him especially.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to open myself up to him,” you admit quietly. “I’m scared, Benny.”

He sighs and hears the front door open, followed by quiet chatter and laughter from Will, Santiago, and Frankie. Then, Benny looks over at you and helps you to your feet. “Don’t force it. Frankie’s a patient man. And I know he likes you a lot.”

“What if he waits around and I just never get there? I don’t want him waiting around for me.” you whisper.

Benny shrugs, hearing his name being called. “You’ll get there.”

“But how do you know?”

“I just do.” He smiles, leading you out of the cage. “Just take it day by day.”

When you get closer to the rest of the guys, Frankie’s the first one to pull you in for a hug. He doesn’t even mind that you’re sweaty; he just loves feeling your body against him, feeling your arms wrap around him. “Hey,” he whispers, pulling away and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“Hi,” you look up at him, letting the corner of your lips lift slightly. “I’m all sweaty and you just hugged me.”

Frankie chuckles, putting his hands into his pockets. “Doesn’t bother me.”

You blush slightly and then turn your attention to greet Santiago and Will, who also pull you into a hug. “Okay, I’m gonna take a quick shower since being sweaty is only bothering me.”

You grab your duffle bag and head to the locker room and showers in the back of the gym, faintly hearing the rest of the guys begin to talk. It takes only fifteen minutes before you walk back out to see the rest of the guys sitting on the mats. Your hair is damp and you’re now dressed in shorts and an oversized crewneck. You move to sit next to Frankie, who leans his body closer to yours.

“You hungry?” he asks.

“Starving,” you grin, taking a slice of pizza and lifting it to your lips. You subconsciously lean against Frankie, head resting on his shoulder and you’re so focused on eating that you don’t realize that the rest of the guys are staring at the both of you with a grin on their faces.

You’re so calm, so at ease with Frankie next to you and the rest of the guys nearby. When you look up, you furrow a brow and finish eating your slice of pizza. “What?” you ask, grabbing a napkin and quickly wiping your lips. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Santiago chuckles. “It’s nothing.”

“Right,” you say slowly, realizing that you were so close to Frankie that you pull away and clear your throat. “So, Benny, when’s my next fight?”

Benny chuckles. “You’ve been pretty active these last six months. We should take it easy for a bit, at least until the end of the year.”

“But I want to fight.”

“I know you do, but if your goal is to get the belt, you also gotta take some rest.”

“I have good momentum. I’m undefeated. If I take a break now, I might–”

“It’s not up for discussion,” Benny sighs.

“Okay,” you say. You trust Benny and you know that he has your best interests in mind, so you don’t push it any further. “Okay, Benny,” you repeat. “But we can still train, right?”

Will smiles. “You’re probably the most dedicated person I know,” he says.

“I made a commitment,” you reply. “And I promised Benny I’d work my ass off. No matter what.”

“Maybe we should all take a break,” Santiago says with a grin. “Maybe we should take a week-long trip or something.”

“You know, that doesn’t actually sound too bad.” Frankie says, gently nudging you with his shoulder. “What do you think, hermosa?”

“Where would we go?” you ask.

“Anywhere,” Santiago shrugs.

“Maybe,” you whisper. “Maybe.”

—

The following day, you take a break from training. Benny’s actually surprised, especially since he was going to give you a call that morning to tell you that he wouldn't be able to come in due to some errands he needed to run.

You’re sitting in your car, waiting to go into the grocery store when something - no, someone - catches your eye. It’s a side profile of a stranger, but it makes your breath catch in your throat. It’s such a similar walk, such a similar profile of your best friend. Even the way this man dresses reminds you of him. You’re gripping the steering wheel, unable to move as your eyes never leave this man who’s walking across the parking lot. You whisper your best friend’s name and when the man turns around, your world comes crashing down.

For a brief moment, the reality of losing your best friend didn’t seem real. This man, this stranger, resembled your best friend so much that you were sure this was your best friend. But when he turns around and you manage to get a full view of his face, you realize that he isn’t your best friend.

Your best friend is gone.

Even the way this man smiles and talks animatedly to his friend reminds you of the best friend you lost. Your best friend who is no longer in this world. Your best friend who promised to always be there for you, but is no longer here. And when his eye catches yours, he gives you a nod with a furrowed brow before he climbs into his car.

You’re back to square one. You can’t move. Your mind is filled with thoughts of your best friend. You’re reliving the moment when you found out about his death, experiencing the same dreadful feeling that settles into the pit of your stomach. And just like before, you’re filled with so much anger and so much guilt and regret.

The last couple of months were just a distraction. It gave you a glimpse that things could get better, but you were naive in thinking that it was possible. There is just no way that you can move forward with your life, not without your best friend here.

Your mind briefly drifts to Frankie, to Benny, Will, and Santiago. You know you should call them, know you should tell them that you’re stuck and you can’t seem to bring yourself out of it, but you don’t. It isn’t their problem. You are not their problem.

So, instead, you send a text to Benny. Simple. Short. And straight to the point.

Get me a title fight. I’m ready.

Benny responds almost immediately. You’re not ready. We already talked about you taking a break. End of discussion.

Your jaw tightens. You want to scream. You want to hit something. If you’re not gonna get me a title fight, then I’m going to go to someone else that will.

You signed a contract. What’s going on? Are you okay? Benny replies.

I’m fine. Get me my title fight, Benny.

Get to the gym. We can talk more about it then.

Without replying, you peel out of the grocery store and make your way to Benny’s gym. You had plans to make dinner, to invite Frankie over, but that is no longer the priority. You’re pulling away and you realize that it’s best for everyone if you keep your distance from all of them.

You park your car and walk into Benny’s gym, seeing Frankie, Will, and Santiago on the mats drenched in sweat. You know they had just finished their workout. They all stand to greet you, but notice the look on your face. You don’t even spare another glance in their direction before you’re walking towards Benny’s office in the back.

You don’t even knock. You open the door and see him sitting at his desk.

“You aren’t ready,” Benny begins. “You’re going to get hurt.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Benny. Get me my fucking title fight.”

“You are not ready!” he yells. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Nothing. I don’t want to take a break. I want to fight.”

“I know you do,” he sighs. “But you’re going to get burnt out and you’re going to be more prone to injury. Please, I’m only looking out for y–”

“No, you’re not!” you interrupt, voice raising and hands clenched into fists at your sides. “Like I said, if you can’t get me a title fight, I’ll find someone else who can. Fuck our contract.”

Benny stands abruptly, chair screeching on the floor as he does. He can tell you’re fuming, can tell that you’re on the verge of tears and whatever happened from last night to today, he’s sure it’s the reason why you’re in his office, threatening him.

“Talk to me,” he says quietly. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” you yell. “Get me my fight, Benny.” You’re walking out of his office with your fists still clenched so tightly at your sides. Benny’s calling your name, walking after you, but you don’t listen. You ignore him and ultimately ignore the rest of the guys’ pleas to get you to stop walking.

It isn’t until you hear Frankie’s voice that you stop to look at him. His deep, brown eyes are staring at you with concern in them. For a moment, you falter and you want to burst into tears right then and there, but you’re so angry and so hurt over the loss of your best friend that it prevents you from asking for help.

“What’s going on?” Santiago asks.

“She’s asking for a title fight and she’s not ready.” Benny sighs.

“I thought you were gonna take a break?” Will says, seeing the way your body is slightly trembling.

“No.” You respond, your eyes finally moving away from Frankie. “Benny, get me my fight or I’m breaking our contract and going to a gym and coach that will get me what I want.”

“You’re gonna get hurt,” Benny says. “I’m not going to put you in a cage where you’re gonna get your ass kicked.”

“So, you don’t believe in me?” you laugh bitterly, sarcastically. “I thought I was your little warrior.”

“You are,” Benny sighs. “Please, I’m just–”

“Hermosa,” Frankie says softly. “Just talk to us.”

“Nothing to talk about. I want my title fight.” Then, you storm out of the gym and walk back into your car. Once inside, tears begin to stroll down your face and you hit your steering wheel plenty of times that your knuckles begin to bruise. Then, you scream and when you shut your eyes, all you see is your best friend. And it’s not even the good times you see, instead, behind closed eyelids all you see is him lying in the casket during his viewing.

Then, you hear a quiet knock on your window and you turn to see Frankie. His eyes are filled with worry and concern, but instead, you start your car and pull out of your parking spot. He doesn’t even try to rush after you. Instead, he stays in the parking lot and watches you drive away. He knows something happened, he just isn’t sure exactly what.

Benny, Santiago, and Will join him outside and they all watch your car drive further away from the gym.

“You’re not thinking about getting her that fight, are you?” Frankie asks.

“I have to,” Benny sighs.

“You said it yourself, she’ll get hurt. Why would you even entertain the idea of getting her that fight?” Santiago asks.

Will’s the one who speaks up. “Benny can keep an eye on her during the fight. If she goes somewhere else, do you think that gym or that coach has her best interests at heart?”

Frankie shakes her head. “She’s fucking upset. She’s hurting and you’re going to put her in a cage with someone who can hurt her? Are you insane?”

“What else am I supposed to do?! Will’s right. She will go to another gym and another coach will see her potential and overwork her, put her in fights that she isn’t ready for.” Benny yells. “Do you think I want to give her what she wants?”

“Something happened today,” Santiago sighs. “I think we should give her time to cool down. Maybe she’ll come to her senses…”

“She won’t.” Frankie says.

Benny nods in agreement. “Frankie’s right. She won’t change her mind. You didn’t–” he sighs, “You didn’t see the look on her face, the look in her eyes. The last time I saw that look was the first day I met her.”

“What do we do?” Frankie asks quietly.

“We can’t do anything,” Will says. “She has to want the help, Frankie. You know that.”

“So, we just let her suffer? Let her deal with this grief by herself?”

“Hermano,” Santiago sighs. “We can’t force her to come to us. It’s just going to push her away.”

“She’s already pushing away!”

“If anyone can get through to her, it’s you, Fish,” Benny says. “But if you want my advice? Give her space. She came to you once. She’ll do it again.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #garrett hedlund #garrett hedlund character #oscar isaac #oscar isaac character #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam character #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction #story: chance encounters

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