᧔ෆ᧓ summary: you had to show your boyfriend the new purchase you made, and when you ask pete to see something, there is no other answer but yes to it. expect he had no idea what it is.
᧔ෆ᧓ word count: 1.3k (1315 words)
᧔ෆ᧓ warnings: established relationship, lingerie worship, sub!pete, slight breast worship, sexual tension, dirty talk, cursing, praise, a bit of saliva
᧔ෆ᧓ author's note: another not enough appreciated character, seriously i think all of us fanfic writers should start binge-watching filmography of fine actors and write for their less known characters, cuz there is many.
• episode seven of kinktober 2025 • showing lingerie worship
Pete has ditched the guys today. He gave them no explanations, just sent a text saying he wouldn't be going out with them. Of course, it was because of you. You insisted you had something new and exciting he had to see. The jumpy and giddy smile on your face had him agreeing right away. If you had something you wanted to show him, he will gladly see it.
He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to come in and show him. Between his teeth was a small toothpick, casually laid. He assumed it was a piece of clothing you bought. You are pretty serious when it comes to your outfits, and love to show them off. And usually you are very cheerful when you do it, so he didn't suspect it would be anything like what walked throughout the door.
You appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, and the sight of you made the toothpick in his mouth fall, clattering to the hardwood floor. He didn't move at first, just stood there, letting his gaze drink you in.
The lingerie you wore was soft and light, pale pink. Lace clung to you in all the right places, charming and delicate bow rested at the edge of your cleavage, seeming subtle, but extremely seductive. Thin straps traced over your shoulders, leaving your collarbone bare, the overall picture made him swallow hard.
"You...you look...fuck," Pete ran a hand over his face, graciously trying to compose himself. It was no use. He had no chance.
You smiled pleasantly, with a naive look on your features. "I thought you might like it."
"Like it?" His voice dropped to a husky cough, the usual confidence slipping as he stepped closer, eyes glued to your body. "I think I'm in trouble."
The cool air around you wasn't bothering you as much as when you first entered the room. The goosebumps were definitely raising on your skin, not from the temperature of the room, but from the closeness that was becoming smaller between you.
"I really wanted you to see this. Me, in it." You look up at him with big eyes, admiring his endearing stare.
Pete's hands twitched at his sides, itching to touch, to feel the soft fabric beneath his fingers, trail over the swan like feathers of it, but he resisted for a moment. He circled you slowly, as though he needed to scan you fully to be sure you were real, to be sure what he was seeing wasn't his haunting and most beautiful dream.
He wanted every part of you to be seen by him, every part which was naked and exposed, every part that was covered and tightly secured under the lingerie.
"Man, this...this is insane," he sighed loudly, expressing his hovering torment, not even knowing what to do with you. He was just lost, surprised, blessed. "You're... I can't...you're just... look at you."
You giggled softly, the sound an alluring melody and he felt heat rise in his chest, pooling in the hollow of his stomach. The bow at your cleavage seemed almost to mock him, teasing him with it’s appealing appearance and the dangerous promise behind it.
Pete was defeated, beaten into being speechless, he was pondering over his next move. Really what was he going to do with you? What can he even do, now when he is left without a single right thought in his mind, when he can't even properly deliver a sentence.
So, as any defeated man accepting his fate, Pete suddenly lowering himself on his knees, gripping your hips gently. "I want...I need..." He trailed off, eyes fixed on you like you were the only living thing on Earth.
"Do what you want, Pete. I'm all yours." You whispered, cradling his neck with your hands, swaying once closer to him, so it would be even more apparent how the lace clung to you.
He exhaled hardly before tracing his hands on your hips, letting his fingers brush over the soft fabric of your panties. The delicate pink of it was dreamy, having him hyper-fixed on the another bow, this one neatly sewn at the center. He paused as his fingertips moved over the bow, again and again.
"Every detail on you, it's fucking...perfect." He trembled out a sigh, reaching breathlessness. He leaned closer, letting his lips hover above the fabric, facing the line of the lace with worshipful and precious kisses. Every fold of the delicate material seemed made just for him to admire, and he did so with complete devotion. You withheld yourself from mirroring his lack of breath, but found it hard, especially when he was so sweet and gentle, killing slowly with delay.
"You... you look like an angel. Like something I shouldn't touch," he confessed, adjusting his knees, rough rumble leaving his mouth from a far place in which it originated from, down all the way from the pit of his stomach. "but I can't stop myself, love."
His thumbs stroked lightly over the edges of the lace. "I could spend forever just...appreciating you like this." You shivered at the attention, the intensity in his gaze. Pete felt it too, the way his need and admiration were tangled together, driving him to worship you. The vulnerability in you could not resist his captivating touches. But you wanted him to climb his way up. To find strenght to face you. And just to disarm you even more, he let a peck of his lips almost melt at the tiny bow. Your walls were pleading to not flood themselves, especially at his fearless eyes, which behind the loving actions he was putting on you, still had the smirking shine of a man who knew he succeded in win at least a point against you.
His hand left your hips, starting to explore their way up, passing your belly, up to your chest, and carefully, without a rush, he rose, until he found himself directly in front of the tempting bow which had the pleasure to be half buried in between your breasts. He leaned closer, lips brushing just over it, inhaling your scent, letting himself be completely consumed by the moment.
"You're so perfect," he breathed with a choking thickness that attacked his voice. "Oh, love..."
You reached, running your hand over his head, tipping it forward, tugging it closer. "Don't think, Peter. Let your instinct lead you."
A good-natured chuckle leaped out of his mouth, before he put it lower, over the gentle swell of your breasts, kissing, worshipping reverently, edging out the lace, feeling the smooth warmth beneath.
"Mhmm, you're unreal." He groaned, sneakingly letting his left hand grab your hip, hooking a finger on the side of your underwear, feeling the material between his thumb and pointy finger. "You're mine, right now, my girl."
You shake under his touch, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Yes." Your soft voice whisperes with a tone as sweet as the first strawberries of the season. Your little agreement tightens Pete's chest, slouching his head deeper.
Every touch, every kiss was clawing into you, peacefully, but nevertheless causing harsh waves of butterflies to flying in your lower abdoment. He wanted to savor you, worship you, lose himself in all the sweetness and softness of your delightful body and intoxicating sight of the fabric framing you.
Pete let himself escape into the delicate fold of you, teasing you half-clothed, palming your pussy, which by now had a soaking patch. His tongue moved the endlessly tempting bow back and forth, occasionally letting himslf stop and suck on the skin of your breasts, collecting a small puddle of his saliva and letting it drip down to your nipples.
He was creating his fantasy into reality and loving every second of it. You were divine, so beautiful, angelic, ethernal. And he would be damned if he didn't prove he thought so.
The night has gone quiet.
London hums somewhere far off, but here — in Pete’s flat — everything feels slower. The rain taps at the window in a steady rhythm, and the faint orange glow from the streetlight spills across the floorboards, catching the edges of his profile as he sits beside you.
You’re both wrapped in one of his old blankets, the one that smells faintly of smoke and washing powder. His arm is draped around you, heavy and warm, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your shoulder while the telly plays something neither of you are really watching.
“Y’alright?” he murmurs, voice low, rough from the day.
You nod against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. “Mmm. Just tired.”
He hums — that soft sound he only makes when he’s at peace — and tilts his head to rest his chin against your hair.
For a while, there’s no need for words. The world outside could fall apart and you wouldn’t notice; it’s just you and him and the sound of rain.
You lift your head slightly to look at him. The light catches his eyes — that sharp blue softened by something quiet, something tender. There’s a small cut near his eyebrow, fading now, and you brush your thumb across it without thinking.
He smiles a little. “Worried about me, were you?”
You try to sound casual. “Someone’s got to keep you in one piece.”
“Lucky me,” he says, his grin crooked and fond.
You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too. He notices — of course he does — and his expression shifts, turns softer, slower. His hand finds your jaw, thumb tracing the edge of your cheek as if he’s memorising you.
“C’mere,” he whispers.
He kisses you — gentle at first, then deeper, slower. The kind of kiss that says he’s home now, that no matter what waits outside that door, this right here is the bit that keeps him grounded.
You feel his hand slide into your hair, his breath warm against your lips when he finally pulls back just enough to speak.
“You know,” he murmurs, forehead pressed to yours, “you make all the noise in my head go quiet.”
The words linger in the air, simple and unguarded — and for Pete, that’s everything.
You smile, whisper, “Then I guess I’m doing something right.”
He chuckles softly, kisses you again — slower this time, a promise in the quiet.
Outside, the rain keeps falling. Inside, the world is still.
Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Fingering. Light choking. Unprotected intercourse.
Summary: Needing some time away after the incident with Tommy, you go to the Lake District to visit his mum, but the quality time spent together becomes even more precious when you get home and your relationship begins to change in unexpected ways.
A/N: This story hasn't had an update since January, but it's better late than never, right?! Thank you to everyone who continues to show interest in this story, talks with me about it, and lets the love for Pete shine on 💗
Part 6
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“You can go to sleep, you know,” Pete suggested, his hand squeezing your thigh where it had been resting for most of the drive, glancing over at you with a smile before turning back to the road.
“Hmm, I’m too excited to sleep,” you admitted, returning his smile with your own.
“Excited?” he asked. “Not nervous at all?”
You giggled and shrugged your shoulders, your tone light even though he had easily caught onto your true feelings and called you out on them.
“A little, yeah! Can you blame me? I’m meeting your mum!”
Pete laughed, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together.
“Ah, you’ve got nothin’ to worry about, she’s gonna love you.”
You sighed, looking out the passenger window, feeling as if this six hour drive was going to feel more like ten with how many scenarios were running through your mind.
“Hey,” Pete called over to you, his voice quieter. “It’s impossible not to love you.”
Your face lit up with a bashful smile, forever finding yourself in awe that he loved you like he did.
Pete let out a long yawn and rubbed his eyes with his free hand before focusing back on the road again.
“Do you want me to drive for a bit?”
“No, love, I’m alright, but thanks,” he winked. “I just can’t wait to be in bed later, not having to wake up to an alarm for a few days.”
“God, it’s gonna be so nice,” you grinned, feeling even more keen for your little getaway together.
Relief coursed through you the moment you saw Mrs. Dunham, the kindness in her eyes and the welcoming embrace she gave you washing away any sort of doubt you had, unable to help yourself from laughing when you noticed Pete give you a look of ‘I told you so’.
The small statured woman with light brown hair streaked with grey introduced herself as Molly but insisted it was fine that you called her ‘Mum’ as well, stressing that she absolutely did not want to be called Mrs. Dunham as she wasn’t the one who was a teacher and it made her feel older than life already did.
She immediately pulled out all the stops, shoving cups of tea in your hands while ushering you to your room where she had towels and extra blankets laid out on the bed, telling you that you were free to help yourself to anything you needed and you were welcome to unpack your things into the dresser if you wanted to, or not; the concern she felt at making sure you were completely comfortable written all over her sweet face.
“I’ve never lived here, but somehow it always feels a bit like home,” Pete explained, shutting the bedroom door before peeling off his jumper.
“It’s lovely here,” you complimented, taking another glance around the cozy room, the sound of the wind howling against the small cottage drawing your attention to the window.
It was stormy, the clouds a dark and ominous grey telling of signs of rain or even snow, the trees swaying mesmerizingly.
“Ah, nothing beats the views of East London though, eh?” he joked, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and kiss your neck, making you squirm but sigh contentedly.
“Come on, Mum’s got dinner ready, she’ll have made enough to feed the whole bloody town.”
Pete unzipped his duffle bag and found a fresh sweater, pulling it over his head as you walked over to yours and began sifting through to do the same.
“Yeah, I’ll just be a minute, gonna change…” you trailed off, setting out a new top and pants.
“In that case…” Pete grinned, jumping on the bed to lay on his side where he would get the perfect view of you undressing.
“Pete…we can’t,” you commanded, although weakly.
He scoffed and grinned, nodding his head. “Oh, we can, and we will!”
“But we’re at your mum’s! What if she hears…”
“Then we’ll have to be quiet,” he smirked, the mischief he felt written all over his features.
You sighed and let your hands fall to your side, your arms slipping out of the sleeves but not pulling the sweater over your head yet, revealing your bra and bare torso to him.
“It’s only a few days…” you tried, trying to convince yourself at the same time, fully removing your shirt off of you.
“Babe,” Pete began, standing from the bed and walking over to you with his head tilted to the side. “You know that’s not going to be possible.”
He brushed his lips with yours before fully diving into a slow, needy kiss, drawing your breath up through your lungs where you held it without even realizing.
“I can’t keep myself away from you, you know that,” he whispered, the sensation of his fingers trailing lightly up your side making you shiver along with his words.
“Fine,” you finally breathed. “Then we’ll be quiet.”
He chuckled against you as he recommenced your kiss, angling his hips forward where he ground himself on you, a long moan transferring into your mouth at the sensation.
Your fingers slid up his neck and into his hair, pulling him even closer, your back arching so your chest pressed into his.
His hand landed on your breast, squeezing it through your bra as he intensified your kiss even more, and when his other wrapped behind you to pull at the clasp on it, he pulled away with a laugh.
“Fucking hell!”
You sighed out and stared up at the ceiling, trying to calm down and stop yourself from going any further.
Pete shook his head and shoved his hand down his jeans, adjusting himself. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I know it.”
“As if you’re innocent,” you quipped, flashing him a lusty grin as you shimmied out of your pants and picked up the new pair you were going to put on.
“Look what you do to me!” he laughed, gesturing toward his cock that was still very obviously hard in his jeans.
“You should feel what you’ve done to me,” you returned, knowing that would disarm him completely.
Pete growled out of frustration as he turned toward the door, rubbing his hand roughly through his closely buzzed hair, mumbling under his breath as he made his way out.
“Oh I will, darling.”
“Aye, Mum, I’ll get those,” Pete offered, placing her finest dessert plates down beside the sink, urging her to shift over and get her hands out of the hot, soapy water.
It was late, having stayed up chatting well after dinner had ended, the long day and ample glasses of wine causing you to fall asleep on the sofa hours ago.
“Thank you, love,” she beamed, her blue eyes shining in the dim light as she looked up at her youngest son. “My sweet Pete.” Her hand came up to rest on his cheek, smoothing her thumb back and forth on it until a crooked smile formed because of it.
Pete plunged his hands into the water and began scrubbing the dishes, huffing a laugh when his mum started on one of her sentimental speeches just as he had expected her to.
“I’ll never forget that look,” she started.
“Mum,” he warned, but softly. “It’s late, go to bed.”
“Oh, stop, I hardly sleep these days,” she waved him off. “My back is always complaining and my mind never stops worrying over my boys.”
Pete nodded his head, appeasing her as he tried his best not to be rude, hoping she missed the slight roll of his eyes and puff of his cheeks as he exhaled somewhat exasperatedly. How could he blame her though, thinking of all the times he and Steve had given her a scare, especially when both of them were nearly dead in the hospital at the same time.
“As I was saying…” she said pointedly, never missing any flack from her sons. “Seeing you like that tonight made you remind me even more of your dad.”
What memories he had of his dad came rushing back, making the dishes appear even more blurry than they already were in the suds, smiling at how everyone who knew his old man told him how much he resembled him.
“Like what?” he asked, attempting to avoid any further mentions of his dad by directing the attention onto her observations.
“In love.”
Pete hummed, focusing more on the handful of cutlery he was washing.
“Is it?”
“What?”
Molly smacked his arm, making him laugh. “Oh, don’t be a shit.”
“Yeah, it is,” he confirmed, his laugh fading to a smile as he gave her a sideways glance, his mother continuing to pierce him with her stare.
“Don’t let it go, yeah?” she urged, her hand resting on his when he handed her a plate to dry. “Love like that only comes around once, my boy, and believe me, you do not want to lose it. Not for anything.”
“Mum-”
“I mean it, Peter. Not for bloody fighting or nothing. I would do anything to have your dad back-”
“Mum!” he stopped her, his tone more serious. “I’m gonna marry her.”
Molly choked back a sob as she squeezed his arm, resting her head on his shoulder as he continued to wash and she dried.
A gentle push on your shoulder woke you with a small start, your surroundings unrecognizable for a brief moment before the familiar feel of Pete’s fingers squeezing you helped get your bearings back.
You let out a groggy sigh, “How long was I asleep? What time is it?”
“‘T’s alright, love. It’s pretty late,” he said softly, glancing behind him at the grandfather clock against the wall. “Half two.”
“Jesus…” you muttered, sitting up on the sofa as you rubbed your eyes.
Pete chuckled and pulled you into a hug once you stood, kissing the top of your head.
“Let’s get to bed, yeah?”
You walked quietly to the bathroom, the moon providing a beautiful, silvery light to help guide your way even with all the lights turned off.
You were half-way through brushing your teeth when Pete came in to do the same, his lingering gaze in the mirror as he ran his brush under the tap making you smile even with your toothbrush in your mouth, his stare causing you to shift where you stood.
When you finished cleaning your teeth, you quickly washed your face and dispensed some moisturizer onto the tips of your fingers, smoothing it onto your face in upward motions, stealing glimpses of Pete who continued to flash you loaded looks each time your eyes met in the reflection.
He spit his toothpaste in the sink and wiped his mouth on the towel, watching as you applied lotion to your neck and chest in a tantalizing way, tipping your head to the side and closing your eyes when you felt him come up to stand directly behind you.
His breath danced on your skin, his nose barely brushing against your neck, his voice heavy with lust when he spoke.
“Are you still tired?”
His lips finally pressed against you, sending a burst of arousal through you from head to toe, the sensation of his kiss causing you to forget he even asked you a question.
“Hmm?” he urged, his lips trailing the shell of your ear where he tugged on your lobe gently.
“Not anymore,” you breathed, spinning to face him, your heavy-lidded eyes tracing the shape of his lips.
“That's what I was hopin',” he said, his voice lazy.
You reinstated your kiss, your hands coming up to hold either side of his face to keep him close to you.
Pete leaned into you, your bodies grinding against each other as your mouths worked with more fervor, your fingers scratching over his scalp while his toyed with the waist of your pants.
Like he couldn't be bothered to undo them, desperate to get to you, he shoved his hand down the front of them and cupped your cunt, his fingers spreading you open and smearing your wet up to your clit.
He growled into your mouth, fingering you until your mouth parted from his and let out a moan, your chest heaving as you started to come undone.
“Fuck, Pete,” you whined, gripping his shoulder to gain more support as you ground on his hand.
He latched onto your neck, kissing and sucking a trail that went lower, his lips finding your peaked nipple through your shirt where he pulled it into his mouth and rolled his tongue around it.
“I fucking need you, love,” he spat, righting himself so he hovered over you, watching you writhe against his fingers that were still buried inside you.
You nodded enthusiastically, no longer caring where or how it happened, just knowing you needed him to fuck you.
A gasp louder than you intended spilled from your mouth when he stroked your g-spot, a quiet chuckle coming from him as he immediately withdrew from you and covered your mouth with the hand that had just been in your pants.
“Shhh, you need to keep it down!” he warned through a grin.
Smelling yourself on him only made you more feral, and needing to let him know exactly how badly you wanted him, you grabbed his wrist to guide his hand, taking his two fingers deep in your mouth.
You sucked your wet off, watching with satisfaction at his pupils blowing out wide, your tongue swirling around them until they were clean and he ripped his hand away.
“Fuck me,” he hissed before crashing his mouth on yours, and just as soon as he kissed you, he pulled off of you again.
“Come on.”
Pete opened the door and dragged you with him into the hallway, moving quickly toward the room you were staying in.
The friction of your pants against your swollen clit as you walked had you buzzing, and finally making it into your room, you immediately ripped them down and stepped out of them, both of you undressing as fast as possible.
Pete threw the decorative pillows onto the floor and pulled back the covers, slipping between the sheets with a broad smile as you crawled in over him, straddling him so your cunt rested on his hard cock.
He looked up at you lovingly, the slight shake of his head indicating he could hardly believe you were his, his hands gripping your thighs where they rested.
You leaned forward, hovering over him and teasing to kiss him until his smile grew even bigger, pulling a low noise from him when you ground your hips against him.
“Mmm, babe,” he said roughly. “You're trouble.”
“I'll be good, I promise,” you purred, giggling when he thrusted up into you before pulling you down onto the bed with him.
“That I don't believe.”
Pete shifted onto his side, guiding you to turn away from him, his hand gripping your ass where he spread your cheeks and wedged his cock between them.
Pushing inside you slowly, his hand laid on your hip, pulling you closer to him as he stretched you out, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
“You gotta stay quiet, babe,” he breathed, swallowing his own noises as he began to thrust in and out of you at a lazy pace.
His hand roamed all over your stomach and chest, squeezing your tits as he fucked you languidly from behind, doing his best to prevent the bed from creaking too much.
You turned your face into the pillow, trying to muffle your moans as you rocked along with his movements, but when his fingers landed on your clit and started to dance on it while his cock dragged in and out of you at the perfect pace, you couldn't help how loud you were.
“Touch yourself,” he demanded lightly, grabbing your hand to replace his between your legs, his hand moving up to take a gentle hold of your neck.
Each time you got louder, he would press more firmly on your throat, a silent warning even though the sounds you were making him were driving him wild.
That only escalated things, your mind dizzy and your blood rushing violently through every part of you, your eyes closed and your mouth freely spilling every ounce of pleasure you were feeling.
“Fuck, babe,” he laughed, fully amused at not being able to keep you quiet.
Pete knew you were close to coming apart, the way you were rubbing your clit growing erratic and frantic, your walls squeezing his cock tighter every time he slammed back in, and preparing for how loud you usually cried when he made you come, he covered your mouth fully with his hand as he worked to finish you off.
Your body tensed and spasmed against his front, your face turning along with his hand into the pillow to try to drown out your wails even more, a gush of wet soaking his cock that made him clench his teeth hard as he was thrown into his own climax.
The bed squeaked more than he cared for it to, but in the moment it didn't fucking matter, the way your cunt felt milking his cock too good to worry about anything else.
Desperate to not let out the roar that was about to escape from him, he grabbed your face roughly and turned your head to him, angling himself over you as he continued to fuck you deeply, his lips crashing against yours where he used you to drown his grunts.
His hips moved against your ass in long, deep motions, riding out every second of it all until he was sure you were completely filled with his cum, his breath coming out rough and laboured as he kept his mouth pressed firmly on yours.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion, your bodies settling into stillness while your kisses became sweeter and more tender, the desperation smoothed away by a simple intimacy that had you both wanting to be stuck in this moment forever.
You hummed against his lips, his hand finding yours where he covered it with his palm and interlaced your fingers together, and bringing your joined grip up to rest at your chest, you finally blinked back to reality.
His eyes were practically sparkling when he looked at you, his smile making your heart want to burst.
“Do you think we managed to stay quiet?” he whispered, his smile cracking into a laugh that made you do the same.
The morning was slow and quiet; exactly how you both had wanted it to be with no alarms or disruptions, and somehow the pot of tea made by Molly enjoyed by the fire tasted better than you could ever make for yourself.
Your generous lie-in had pushed your plans into the afternoon, going to Molly’s local for lunch and then to tour the town a bit, but when Pete was taking far longer than usual to shower and get ready to go, both of you started questioning his whereabouts.
“Surely it doesn't take him this long all the time?” Molly asked, her tone light as she rolled her eyes and looked at the time on her watch.
You giggled, shaking your head. “No, never. I'll go check on him,” you offered, standing from the armchair beside the fire to head to your room.
The smell of warm, damp air and fresh body wash filled the hallway as you walked past the bathroom, the door to the bedroom shut, and even though you didn't need to, you knocked on it softly once before turning the knob and stepping in.
Pete stood at the end of the bed with his towel hung loosely on his waist, his bare skin decorated in droplets that made your mouth water in wanting to capture every one of them with your tongue.
Digging in his bag clearly in search of something, he gave up looking in it and grabbed the one that held your shared toiletries, rummaging through it with determination.
“Are you alright? What are you looking for?”
“My bloody razor,” he mumbled, talking to the bed as he continued to search. “You haven't seen it, have you?”
He finally looked at you, watching as you shrugged and shook your head ‘no’.
“I must've forgotten it,” he sighed. “I'll have to grab one at the shop when we go into town. I'm getting scruffy!”
Pete rubbed his hand over his face, itching the thickening scruff that seemed to highlight his gorgeous features as opposed to disguising them.
“Or don't,” you offered, playfully. “I like it.”
His eyebrows rose high on his forehead as he looked at you curiously.
“That so? A beard, eh?”
You hummed, “Yeah, it'll look good.”
“I always look good, darling,” he purred, his smirk making you weak in the knees.
“You do,” you agreed, coming up behind him where you wrapped your arms around his torso and smoothed your hands over his stomach, your mouth planting kisses across his shoulders and upper back.
“Don't let it get to your head,” you whispered against him, the scent and taste of his skin heavenly.
“And what if it does?”
“I’ll love you anyway.”
You felt the huff of his laugh blow through him before you heard it, your head still resting against his back, feeling him breathe and indulging in the warmth of his body.
“How'd I get so lucky, eh?”
Sunday nights always seemed to bring a sense of dread with them, anticipating the stress of a new week of work, but tonight it felt even worse than usual, feeling like you needed another day or two off after returning back home from your mini-holiday.
“So, I'm tutoring a couple of kids after work starting tomorrow,” Pete explained, making you turn your head to see him from where you sat on the sofa.
“Oh yeah? What made you want to start that?” you inquired, reaching for another jumper out of the laundry basket on the floor in front of you.
He shrugged, grabbing a stack of papers out of his work bag.
“Some of these lads need the extra help and I figured maybe I could get through to them.”
“Well, if anyone can, it's you,” you smiled, knowing how much his students adored and admired him.
“Yeah, we’ll see,” he hummed, leaning over the back of the sofa to get close to you. “It'll be a couple nights a week, but…” he trailed off, indicating there would be an absence from you that he wasn't necessarily keen about.
“If only we never had to work,” you whined, adding another item to the pile of clean clothes that would still need to be put away.
Pete chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, if only.”
“It's going to be a long week, isn't it?” you thought out loud, already sensing that between work and football and now tutoring, your time together would be scarce.
“You'd be sick of me if you saw me too often,” he joked, walking around the settee to join you on it.
You hummed, thinking how spending days together at his mum’s didn't seem like nearly enough, the more you were with him, the more your soul craved his.
“I don't think that's ever possible, Pete,” you said softly, admiring how he seemed to glow in the warm lamplight.
His smile grew into something mischievous as he started crawling over to you, caging your body with his as he guided you to lay back into the cushions, the neat stack of clothes toppling onto the floor without care.
“We’ll just have to make the most of the time we do get together then, yeah?”
Let me know when you’ll be home for dinner xx
You placed your phone on the counter and went back to cleaning up the dishes you had dirtied while making the meal, your two plates set out and ready to heat up whenever Pete was meant to be home.
Not a second later, your phone buzzed with an incoming call, and wiping your hands on the towel to dry them as fast as you could, you glanced over and saw Pete’s name and number lighting up the small screen.
“Hiya!” you sang, excited to hear his voice.
“Hiya, love,” he answered, the smile on his face heard in his greeting.
“I’ve got supper ready whenever you walk in the door.”
“You’re too good to me, you know that?”
“Ah, maybe,” you teased. “But you can thank me later.”
“Well speaking of which…” Pete sighed. “I’m gonna be late tonight so you just go on and eat without me.”
“Oh,” you replied, and you were happy he wasn’t able to see the disappointment on your face. It had only been a few weeks since he started his tutoring sessions, and twice a week as he initially planned had turned into four, and you already found yourself selfishly wishing for it to stop despite being proud of him for doing it.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, gorgeous. Ike’s asked me to come help him move some furniture after I’m done tutoring tonight.”
“It’s alright, it’s good you’re giving him a hand. Tell him and Cassie hello from me.”
“I will, love. I’ll see you later. Love you.”
“I love you, too, Pete.”
Pete ended the call and tucked his phone in his pocket along with his hand, already feeling a pang of guilt for lying to you, and let out a long sigh through the puff of his cheeks as he made his way across the street.
Clair was already there waiting for him, her smile bright as she greeted him.
“Peg leg,” she called him, fondly, nodding at his limp as he closed in to meet her.
Pete rolled his eyes and leaned in, pecking a quick kiss on her cheek.
“You can’t be upset with that nickname given all the ones you make up for us,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” he waved off, knowing she was right.
“I still can't believe you asked me to come along for this! I figured you'd trust Fiona's opinion more since she's been her mate the longest.”
Pete raised his brows and pulled a face. “Yeah but being related to Swill, she also can't keep her gob shut.”
Clair laughed and nodded in agreement. “Fair point.”
“You're sworn to secrecy and I trust that you won’t cock this up,” he said sternly, pointing loosely at her with two fingers.
“Cross my heart,” she replied, motioning the gesture over her chest. “Ready, then?”
“Yeah, let’s do this,” Pete said with a bit of nerves, rubbing his hands together as he looked up at the sign above the shop, making sure it was the right door she was leading them through.
A chimey bell rang as they entered the store, a tight knot forming in Pete’s stomach despite the atmosphere feeling bright and welcoming, but the sight of glistening gold and diamonds far beyond his affordability suddenly made him feel like it was the most daunting place to be standing in.
He rubbed his hand over his hair as a salesman immediately walked over to them, and feeling a prompting tap on his elbow from Clair, Pete answered the man’s question of what he was there for.
After looking at everything in his price range and falling short, Pete leaned against the pristinely cleaned glass top, staring down at all the cheap, gaudy looking rings that looked as if they were meant for child's play more than anything.
“Can I see that one over there again?” he requested, knowing it would sting more than anything to hold the ring in his hand he so desperately wanted to place on your finger that he might never be able to.
He knew it was the one. He could see it dazzling on your finger and vividly picture how you would look at it with pride every time the light reflecting in it would catch your eye. The thought of seeing it be the only thing worn on your body every night he laid in bed with you made every spark of life rush through him, and he cursed the fact that it was double his budget.
“Fuck,” he hissed, handing it back to the man on the other side of the counter who radiated annoyance.
“Well what about one of these other ones,” Clair suggested, doing her absolute best to keep this dream afloat for him.
Pete gave her a sideways glance, trying to portray the obvious fact that the ones he could afford were tacky as all hell.
“I'm gonna have to use a bloody shoelace at this point,” he muttered, losing all hope. “Even Bov wouldn't give these to his bird.”
“Come on, Pete. You know she’s going to say yes no matter what it is you have to give her. She loves you, not the ring.”
Pete set his mouth in a hard line and watched the employee carefully place the ring he wanted back in its velvet display, tucking it safely into the glass case.
“And you can’t hold it for me?” Pete asked again, trying for another time to convince the store to sway their rules for him.
“I'm afraid not. Not without a deposit of twenty-five percent.”
Pete mulled the numbers over again in his head, but no matter how he thought he could move things around, he still couldn't come up with the amount needed for the deposit.
“Maybe it'll still be here when you're ready,” Clair offered, her tone hopeful.
He puffed out his cheeks and let out a long, doubtful sigh, moving away from the counter where he gave a brief thank you to the employee and decided to call it quits for now.
“Pint?” Clair asked, knowing he was in need of something to help cure what ailed him.
“I could murder one.”
Putting the book you were reading back down on the coffee table for the third time in the last ten minutes, you stood and grabbed your jacket, feeling restless in the stuffiness of the flat.
It was lonely without Pete tonight and you figured he would be at least another couple of hours between tutoring and helping Ike, so getting out for some fresh air seemed like the best thing to help pass the time.
There was a chill in the air that seemed even more severe with how the wind cut through you, but it felt pleasant somehow, the sting on your cheeks and brisk pace you were walking welcome compared to feeling stagnant.
Lots of people were about despite it being cold and dark, the lights from the shops illuminating the street and allowing the perfect views of the patrons shopping inside.
The smell of oil and freshly fried chips stole away the cold, crisp air when you neared your local chippy, and a familiar laugh caught your attention instantly as a couple walked out carrying their take-away.
Ike let go of the door as soon as Cassie went through it, ducking under his raised arm, the joke they shared echoing in your ears.
The smell of grease turned vile and made your stomach twist in a harsh knot, a sick feeling rising up your throat as the harrowing realization that Pete was lying to you hit you like a train.
Frozen in place, any opportunity to ask questions and clarify what was hopefully a simple misunderstanding vanished as Ike and Cassie quickly moved in the direction of home, leaving you there with a combative mix of reeling and numbness.
You turned around and walked back the same way you came, trying to sort out all the racing thoughts in your head and convince yourself that whatever was actually happening was unlike all the conclusions you were currently jumping to.
Nsfw! Just straight up banging in the clurb bathroom and a small heart to heart lol !mention of dRugz (❄️)
Summary: After roaming the streets, you and Pete take shelter in a crowded club. The two of you hide together in the bathroom, buzzing and craving each other.
Enjoy :)
Pete grunted repeatedly as his thrusts grew more fast-paced and desperate, the friction inside of you growing as he did so.
He had you perched slightly on the edge of the sink in the bathroom of whatever this random Soho bar was called. You would do this when you both felt like a change in scenery. Waltzing into clubs and bars with the buzz of booze and a bag of sniff, vibrating a hot energy between the two of you. Your legs were wrapped around his hips, pushing him into you as if you could be even closer.
His right hand was grasping the edge of the window sill above your head while his left felt up and down your back, occasionally shifting his hand in from the top of your skirt, moving lower on to your ass and grabbing at your skin. The bass of the music vibrated it's sounds through the walls, beating it's hard pace as the two of you melted into eachother.
The heated steam of his breath hit the back of your neck as he groaned your name along side his repetitive sighs and huffing. You hummed into his ears and held on to the back of his shaved head. The feeling that burned a pink blush across your face rushed through you as he pushed and pulled back and forth. The hot atmosphere added to the heat that was emanating from all areas of the place. His mind was on you, how you felt inside and out. He could smell your skin, the pheromones that were only from you.
Feeling eachother, in any way, was always something that caused thoughts of the two of you in the closest ways possible. The feeling of his hands tingled your senses as your nerves rushed with burning excitement. Soft moans that turned harsher left your mouth involuntary as you felt every part of his cock. Every hard throb as he slowed for a second, the warmth and the hardness. You felt your own wetness on the inside of your thighs, dripping down as he continued pumping into you. Soon your eyes couldn't focus, the feeling of pleasure became too much as he started to move faster, chasing the feeling that you both felt approach. Warm waves flowed from you as your climax reached new highs. His hips jutted into you and his eyes softened. You clenched around him as the sensation of pure pleasure rushed through you. His warm cum shot into you while he leant back in his own moment of ecstasy. The two of you collapsed into eachother, breathing heavily as you basically came to right then and there. Like you were in a trance just moments before. He grinded his teeth slightly as his jaw relaxed, then tightened.
Your legs were limp and dangling loosely, still wrapped lower down the back of Pete's legs. "Fucking hell. Fucking hell. Babe I needed that." He said as he put his forehead to yours, breaking the only previous communication of moans, grunts and the occasional exclamation.
"Tell me about it, I miss you all the time. I miss us." The words weren't just a buzzed up confession, you needed him and you needed him to know. He smiled, that cheeky stupid look he gave you that flustered you and wiped any memory of annoyance (most of the time of course). "Fuck, I know babe. I don't want you thinking I don't want to be with you. Look, there's mainly two things that bounce around in my head. You and Westham. Or you in a kit. With just your knickers on underneath." He giggled, his hand stroking your hair reassuringly. You smiled up at him as you slowly got on your feet. Pete pulled you into his chest, holding you tight, so tight you could feel the pumping heat in his body, smell the cologne and intoxicating musk that got you giddy. "I'll try to be nearer. The lads can fuck off more, yeah? I want you."
His words were working on you. They always did. "Maybe less time at the abbey? Just try, please?" You asked in a soft, hinting voice, knowing he doesn't like it when I try to get too involved with him and "the lads". He sighed in defeat. "Yes, babe. Fine. I will try." He chuckled a little as you held onto his back. "You better." You said as the two of you linked arms and headed back out into the night.
Note: It's my first time writing, please don't judge
A/N: Leave requests😉
Mentions: Blood, alcohol and swearing.
You and Pete had been together for around 6 months now, you lived together in a small apartment. You loved him, and he loved you. But, not everything was always perfect. He had been returning home late, either reeking with alcohol after hanging out with his lads at the Abbey or new cuts, and bruises all over. Half the times its both. One day or night I suppose you call it, you've had enough with him.
——————
12:03 a.m
After a long week, you were exhausted and drained. Physically and mentally, you prepared a cup of tea to distract yourself from the uncomfortable tension on your shoulders.
Pete told you he would be hanging out with his lads and not to bother waiting for him, you two haven't been talking much recently. Although the love was still there, the communication wasn't.
You sighed, laying on the couch in your cozy pajamas. Not even bothering to adjust the piece of clothing, you looked through the magazine which was in your hands. Barely paying attention to the piece of paper which talked about non-sense that journalists came up with, your phone buzzed with notifications. Gently vibrating beside you, you opened the device, it was one of your friends asking if you were available. Blinking at the text before shutting your phone off and facing it down onto the coffee table beside you. Forearm covering your eyes away from the dim light of the lamp, you were in no shape to socialize with other people right now.
Most importantly you hadn't received a text from your boyfriend, Pete. The one person whose touch you had been yearning for weeks now, he had been busy with god knows what. Another brawl? Possible, Drinking with his lads? 100% ofcourse Whatever, you can talk about that problem once he gets back home.
The door slams open, the cold night breeze entered the room—speak of the devil.
He stumbled in, reeking of alcohol and rain. His jacket hung half off his right shoulder, knuckles split open, a purplish bruise blooming along his jaw. He tried to smile, that same lopsided grin that used to make you laugh. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbled, words slurring.
Something inside of you snapped. Around two hours of yelling, screaming, and hurtful words were thrown at him. A few weeks worth of frustration and anger poured all out to the person you loved most. You weren't one to blame, half of your words were right. The other half it was just 'babble'.
You didn't mean to say such words, especially to him. Pete stood there, taking the criticism and hurtful words like it was his daily dose of medicine.
What you couldn't see was, that look in his eyes. A hint of shame and vulnerability. So well hidden behind his composure.
Finally, silence began to engulf the room. It was almost deafening.
"Were you even listening to a word I was saying, Pete?" You softly said, your chest heaved with emotions you tried so hard to bottle up.
"Every word." He responded,
"Then—why aren't you saying anything? Why are you just standing there like a statue?"
"Would rather get into another brawl, then raise my voice at you sweetheart'."
"This isn't some fucking joke, Pete!" You yelled, anger still evident in your voice.
"Do I look like I am laughing?"
The argument wasn't loud anymore; it just hurted softly, the words that came from one another's mouths felt like shattering glass—the kind of breaking you would still hear long after it ended.
"Say something! Anything!"
Pete clenched his jaw tightly, "Yell at you? Scream until I lose my voice? Now that's what you want, aint it?" his words were mocking;
It was as if your anger was fueling him, he took another step closer. He reached for your face, and for a moment, you tensed. Expecting a harsh slap across the face, no. He wouldn't hurt you, no matter the situation—but his touch was suprisingly gentle, his rough palms cupping your cheeks.
"But I won't do it," His thumb gently ran across her cheek, as if he was trying to soothe the fire within you. His voice lowered "I ain't going to give you a reason to hate me, or take this argument any further."
Your gaze drifted away from him, but he brought it right back. "Look love, I can't promise you I'll never make mistakes. Can't promise you that I won't get into stupid fights and come home with bruises."
His lips curved into a wry smile, despite the situation. "But I can promise you this." He pulled you closer by sliding an arm around your waist,
"I promise to always come home to you, give or take a few new bruises even a broken arm." He ended, his words were humoring. Tinged with reassurance—
"What if you don't—what then, Pete?"
There it was. The fear you'd been fighting all this time, the one that gripped you whenever he stumbled home in the dead of night.
A sigh escaped his lips, fingers tracing your jaw. "You worry way too' much." A smirk tugging at his lips as if he was indestructible,
"When have I ever failed to come home, hm?"
You didn't answer.
"See? Have some faith in me. I could dodge a punch or two. " He joked,
"You're an idiot, Dunham."
He smiled, the atmosphere was lighting up once again.
—After a few moments, he dragged you down onto the couch with him. Arms wrapped around you gently, as if afraid you would disperse into pieces.
Your lips met, the kiss wasn't rushed. But intense, fueled by pent up emotions of the past few minutes. One of his hands tangled into your hair, angling your head to deepen the kiss. The other hand splayed onto your lower back, pulling you so close even making it possible for their atoms to merge together completely. (joke)
His body was solid and warm against yours, and the familiar scent of him enveloped you.
The sudden pain in his lip made him pull away, a hiss escaping his lips. He touched a finger to the tender area, wincing slightly at the raw, throbbing discomfort.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, more in annoyance than pain. He was used to having scrapes and bruises, but busted lips were always a pain in the ass.
"Ah, I'll go get a first-aid." You completely almost forgotten he was injured, and battered up.
He waved it off, "It's alright'." He tried to pull you back in. Seriously, how neglective was this man when it comes to himself?
You pushed him by his shoulders. A sign of refusal for continuation until his problem was resolved, he groaned.
———
You cleaned up his wounds, the red liquid sticking onto the injured skin. A few groans and hisses emitted from his throat, he leaned his head back against the cushion.
"You done?" He asked, you hummed in response. Throwing the bloodied cotton pads, and placing the first-aid to god knows where.
He opened his arms, a silent invitation for you to join him. You oblieged, snuggling up against him. You both fell asleep after he softly sang random songs he came up with on the spot.
Safe to say, you both wouldn't be leavimg eachother anytime soon.
