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canadianfangirl-95 · 4 months

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Frankie Morales- Sugar Daddy edition

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 cart 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, Christian Louboutin. 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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petrichor-han · 3 months

Text

starlight grove; billy the kid

PAIRING | billy x fem!rich!reader

CAST | william h. bonney (billy the kid), jesse evans (mentioned)

WC | 6.9k

GENRE | smut, fluff, strangers to lovers, starcrossed lovers, forbidden love, opposites attract

WARNINGS | explicit language, explicit sexual content, smoking (cigars), reader is rich and very feminine/girly, reader has a mom & dad, usage of pet names for reader (pet, sweetheart, etc.), historical and TV show sequence inaccuracies (not based on specific TV show events nor irl specific historical events)

SYNOPSIS | everyone knows he's no good for you, including the two of you. that's why it starts off emotionless, pure passion and lust. but other feelings began to creep in, just as quickly as sunlight trickles through the bare branches of your apple grove come winter.

A/N | first billy the kid fanfic :) so please don’t be too harsh lol i’m sensitive. it's also a bit choppy since i decided i wanted to have a similar setup and mc/reader for a future billy the kid fanfic so i had to move things around so it's not too similar to my other draft :/ i’m also in love with tom blyth so it had to be written. 🙏 please reblog and/or leave some kind words if you enjoyed this fic!! there will definitely be more to come for billy the kid & i also definitely want to start writing for coriolanus snow too <3 please consider reblogging + leaving some kind words if you enjoyed!!

request to be added to current and future taglists HERE!

MASTERLIST | BILLY THE KID MASTERLIST

Billy spits a wad of blood, metallic and tangy in his mouth, into the dirt at his boots. His tongue prods the ragged flesh at his cheek, where his teeth tore into the inside of his cheek when Jesse accidentally elbowed him in the face whilst they were wrangling some cattle earlier.

Billy learned two things that day—one, every single rich rancher that moved into town was a fucking jerk, and two, he really needed to stay out of the way when Jesse was distracted.

Regardless, he was pissed. If not because of the way his left side of his face was aching, then because he hardly got paid for a long day of work. Sure, he didn’t expect anything grand, but he thought he’d get more than enough to get by for the next few days, and he could kick back and relax before the summer boom, which people had been whispering about, saying that tons more rich ranchers were moving in, and therefore slowly moving the poor out. Naturally, Billy thought that he’d just move on if it came to that—he wasn’t too attached to town, and he didn’t consider it home. It was just the place he was occupying at the moment, because it was working for him. If it became too expensive or too much of an annoyance, he’d pack up his few belongings and head further west.

He thumbs through the few wrinkled bills he’d been handed at the end of the work day, and he scoffs, leaning back in his chair to take a long drag from his cigar. The sun is beginning to sink lower in the sky now, and the air is thick and warm. Dust is clouding the sky as people and horses walk by, making him cough weakly as he waves at the air in front of him. Then, through the midst of reddish brown dirt, he sees what he thinks might be an angel on Earth.

A woman, but not just any woman—the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Physically, she’s exactly his type and more, with graceful facial features and an elegant way of carrying herself, despite the less than ideal conditions of town in the late summer afternoon. He can’t help but get to his feet to take a second look, thinking that in his sleepy, anger-addled mind he might have hallucinated her. But no, there she is, clearer than ever now that he can see above the clouds of dirt rising from the ground. She’s holding onto the arm of an older gentleman, presumably her father, as the pair walks across the road, approaching the bank. The older man, who isn’t really old at all, but coming off as more mature and refined instead, takes out a small golden timepiece and scoffs at it, making the beautiful angel clinging to his arm jump slightly from his outburst. They enter the bank, and Billy snaps out of his stupor, realizing that he’d been staring at her the entire time. He’s quite glad that she didn’t seem to notice, and he stubs out his cigar in the dusty ashtray before standing up and leaving the front of the saloon, thinking about what he might have for dinner.

On the other side of the road, you enter the bank, clinging to your father’s arm nervously. You hadn’t wanted to move to some small, underdeveloped town in the middle of nowhere—you had to complete your summer studies at a respectable, well-known school, you complained to your father. Nonsense, your father had replied, besides, we’ll be home by the end of summer.

You left behind all of your friends, your acceptance to the best summer program in the area, and your beautiful house—it was big and white, and the inside smelled like fresh wood and it was spacious. Here, you have no friends, you must attend the local college, where very few women go, and you know you’ll be berated by misogynistic men, and your house… well, perhaps your house here is the one grace. It too, is large, and the wood on the outside is also painted white. There are plenty of windows, framed with pretty ridged shutters, and the inside is even more spacious than your old house. Your bedroom here is lovely too, taking up the entire floor of the attic, which is clean and bright in the day and cool and quiet in the night.

You aren’t spoiled, but you’re quite used to having very nice things, since your father is so successful. Especially now that he’s got much more land for his cattle, he keeps boasting at dinner about how much richer your family will get. He says that this summer house is just the beginning. And you also aren’t stupid, so you keep your mouth shut, even when your father says stuff you don’t agree with. You know there’s only so many ways to make your way as a woman until you marry, so you let your father think that you agree with every little thing he says.

And that’s what you’re doing now, as you both walk into the bank to discuss taking money out for your college. You press your lips into a thin, tight line to avoid saying something you’ll regret as your father jabbers on about how stupid it is for women to attend college anyways. You put on a fake smile and nod, acting like you don’t really care whether you continue your education or not. Sitting quietly beside him as he talks to the banker, you get bored, and fast. The room you’re sitting in is possibly the most boring room you’ve ever seen—it’s completely flat and brown on all sides, and the decor doesn’t boast anything exciting either. The walls are bare, and the banker scrawls down numbers as your father rattles off information you’re quite sure is irrelevant in this situation—he just wants to show off. You turn away, and look at the one interesting thing you can see from where you’re sitting—you look through a window, that sees out the front of the building. A man—a cowboy—is standing at the saloon on the other side of the dirt road, right outside the doors where a few wooden chairs sit, scattered about. He seemed to be staring back at you for a moment, and your heart skips a beat—he’s quite handsome, after all—but then he turns away, and walks off. You’re disappointed, as your one form of entertainment has walked off, and now your father is arguing with the banker—for what reason, you’re not exactly sure. Sighing, you sink down in your chair, sulking, until your father barks at you to sit up like a real lady and stop making a fool of yourself in public.

The next morning, your father announces he’s going into town again. “That bastard of a banker counted my money wrong,” he seethes, slamming his fist onto the table, spilling his own coffee. Your mother looks up, her eyes wide and afraid, before wiping up the spilled coffee with a rag, and refilling his mug. “Everyone in this town is an uneducated, unrefined mongrel,” he insists again, when no one speaks up to agree with him. “That’s the problem with new towns like these. No one is civilized, the way we are.”

“You’re right, hun,” your mother offers quickly, and once he gets his acknowledgement, he resumes his meal. You and your mother exchange knowing looks, looking away quickly before he realizes that there’s a silent form of communication that he isn’t involved in.

“When are you leaving, Pa?” you ask, looking up. Your mother swats you on the arm gently, reminding you that you shouldn’t be addressing your father in such a way, especially during a meal. You retract your statement, swallowing hard as your father narrows his eyes at you.

“That isn’t any of your concern, pet,” your father says, as he lights a cigar, a large cloud of smoke exiting his mouth as he exhales, hiding his face from your view. “Little girls don’t belong in town. You stay here with your mother and the servants and mind the home, as you will for your husband when you’re a wife and mother.”

Your jaw clenches at your father’s words. You know he’s right—that’s the norm for women, after all. But it’s not right, and you wish it weren’t so. All you wanted was to go to town, hopefully to catch a glimpse of that handsome cowboy again—you weren’t disobedient, or bad. You wouldn’t even mind staying home most of the time, since spending time with your father almost always guaranteed some sort of tantrum from him, and you found it embarrassing to be with him in public when that occurred. But instead of arguing or calling him out on his sexist behavior, you force your lips into a smile and look into his hard eyes at the cigar smoke clears. “Yes, sir,” you say softly, sighing as you look down at your empty plate.

The sound of your father hitching up the horses makes your ears perk up, and you can’t help but peek out the large window in front of the kitchen that oversees the front of your home. Soon enough, two of your father’s best Morgans trot by, pulling a carriage. All you can see of your father is the faint shadow of his wide brimmed hat as the horses pass by the front of the house, slowly disappearing from your view as they trot down the pathway, and in the direction opposite of your house. Sighing, you watch the maids scrubbing the breakfast dishes in a large wash basin, the smell of fresh lye soap penetrating your senses.

Finding nothing else to do on a dreadfully blissful spring day when you’re stuck inside, you help with the household chores as your father instructed, feeling a pool of anger simmering in your stomach at your quiet obedience. At least next week your summer classes at the local college would begin, and even though your father would definitely have some choice words for you about that, at least it’s an opportunity to get out of the house and away from his nagging.

A gentle, warm breeze blows gently as you hang up the damp laundry. You had assured the maids on laundry duty that you didn’t mind hanging up all of the washed garments—it was something to do, after all—and they left to help with other chores. Humming to yourself, you dig into the small box of clothespins as you hold one of your nightgowns up to the clothesline, but when you look back up to clip it to the string, you’re instead staring into a pair of very bright, very piercing, very familiar blue eyes. You let out a yelp and stumble backwards, surprised, and step into the basket of damp laundry, spilling your own clothes and linens all over yourself. You can feel your face heating up as you’re hidden underneath one of your linens, hearing the handsome owner of the blue eyes chuckling at your clumsiness.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice kind but slightly gruff. You gingerly peel back the linen that’s draped over your head, one hundred percent sure that your cheeks are flushed to the point where he can obviously see it. Avoiding eye contact, you nod and start scooping the linens and clothes back into the basket. He starts helping you, much to your discomfort, but you don’t say anything until his hand falters slightly. You look over and see that he’s staring directly at a pair of your undergarments. If your cheeks weren’t flushed before, they are now. You quickly snatch it out of his sight, shoving them deep into the basket.

“Sorry.” He stands up, chuckling softly. Then he extends a hand to you as you mirror his actions, standing up and looking up into his bright eyes. “I’m Billy.” The handsome cowboy.

You tell him your name, shaking his hand with a firm grip. He can’t help but grin at your serious expression—you were so pretty, and that studious look made him want to say something to make you smile. “I saw you in town yesterday,” you say quickly, before you can stop yourself. “Across from the bank.”

“That’s right, I was at the saloon. And you were with… your father, I presume?”

“Yeah. He went to town again today, but he wouldn’t let me come this time.” You smile weakly, wondering why the hell you were telling him all of those details.

“Oh?” Billy asks, raising an eyebrow. “And why’s that, sweetheart?”

You feel a shiver go down your spine at his deepening tone, the way his bright eyes darken slightly as he looks down at you. You swallow around the lump in your throat, trying not to stumble over your words. How was it possible for someone to have such an impact on you? You’ve never come across anyone so attractive in your entire life. “M-my father says it’s no place for a girl like me…” you say, feeling your face heat up again at how childish, how naive you sound. A man like Billy wouldn’t want a girl like you.

“He’s not wrong, you know.” Billy steps closer to you, his calloused hand gently caressing your face before he tilts your chin up so that you’re looking him in the eye. “Town’s full of dangerous men that’d just love to mess with a pretty girl like you.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his proximity, and you pull away, biting your tongue. He chuckles softly. “I’m just messing with you, sweetheart. But really, your Pa ain’t wrong. There’s plenty of bad men in town that wouldn’t have a second thought about taking you away.”

“Are you one of them?” you challenge, crossing your arms. He raises his eyebrows, surprised at your defiance, but enjoying the feeling you’re giving him—the feeling of a challenge.

“Do you want me to be?” he asks, mirroring your actions and crossing his arms. He grins at you, and your heart flutters. You can’t help it, not when such a beautiful man is teasing you.

You bite back a giggle, looking down at the ground so he can’t see the goofy smile that’s threatening to spread across your face. “Well… I wouldn’t say I want you to take me away…” you say, finding your voice as you play with a loose thread on the skirt of your dress.

Billy chuckles again, and leans in closer. You can feel your heart pounding, making your entire body erupt in uncontrollable shivers. “How about I just take you out then?” he suggests, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Only if you stop teasing me like that,” you say, scowling and pushing him away as you try not to blush in front of him again. You don’t want him to know just how easily he’s getting to you.

“Can’t handle it?” he asks, his tone light and playful.

“Oh, I can handle it just fine. Your words don’t affect me, cowboy,” you scoff, trying to come off as more nonchalant.

Billy grins at your response, enjoying the banter. He reaches down and plucks a wildflower from the tall grass, and gently places it behind your ear, alongside your soft hair. “I’ll see you tonight then, doll. I’ll come pick you up right here.”

You feel your stomach twisting slightly at the thought—there’s no way your father would allow you to go out with someone from town. He thinks they’re all uncivilized bastards. “I can’t leave without permission from my parents,” you say, which isn’t exactly a lie—you do need to inform them where you’re going and when you’ll be back.

“You’re an adult, aren’t you?” he asks, his brow furrowing slightly. “Why do you need to ask ‘em to go on a date?”

“It’s complicated…” you say, not wanting to get into the specifics of your father’s big plans for your eventual marriage to some rich older man. Or, if you’re lucky, someone more age appropriate—perhaps a rich man’s son, one that will inherit his father’s fortune eventually.

Billy grunts, rubbing his scruffy chin with his hand. “Alright then, we’ll just have to have our date here then. That okay with you? I’ll make it real special,” he says, looking down at you, determinedly. You can’t help but feel a little flattered that he’d go this far just to be on a date with you.

“I think the question is if it’s alright with you. My parents aren’t exactly… lenient, as you can probably tell,” you say, shrugging. “Do you still want to go out with me then?”

Billy laughs aloud, his blue eyes piercing into yours. “‘Course I do, sweetheart. You caught my eye, and I’m the kind of man that gets what he wants. If that means we can’t go out on the town together, then so be it.”

You giggle softly at his smooth talking, and he reaches over to adjust the flower he put behind your ear. As he gently caresses the side of your face, you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Just to remember me by,” you say, almost shyly—you’re not sure what overcame you, to do something so bold.

But Billy just chuckles and brushes a lock of hair out of your face, looking down at you. “Don’t tease me like that, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be able to forget you, even if I tried,” he says, leaning in close, but not enough for your lips to touch. He pulls away, smirking at your blush. “I’ll be back for you,” he promises, pressing a rough kiss to the back of your hand. “As soon as the sun starts to set, I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

“Promise?” you ask doubtfully, looking up at him. Sure, he seems to be charming, but you’re no fool to how men can act.

“Promise,” he says softly, looking into your eyes. The bright, piercing blue suddenly seems much calmer, much gentler. “You can trust me.”

With that, Billy heads off. You didn’t even see his horse, tied up to the post that the end of your clothesline is attached to, but he unties her and saddles up, slinging himself over her back with ease. She’s different from your father’s horses; a cream color instead of the rich chestnut brown of the Morgans. You don’t ask what kind of horse she is, but you certainly admire her as he adjusts the reins before tugging on them gently. He gives you a smirk before his horse sets off at a trot, and he disappears into the fields of tall grass, presumably heading back into town, or perhaps back home. Where that is for him, you’re unsure.

Now that the excitement of a handsome stranger has died down, you find the laundry mundane and pointless. Grumbling to yourself, you hurry to try and finish the chore, knowing you can’t break your promise to the maids. That would be unfair, and it would only earn them punishment from your father—which isn’t something you want them to go through. You rather like the maids after all, and often converse with them while you help with the chores, though they always insist that you don’t need to help.

Finally, you pin the last linen to the clothesline, and thank goodness too—the line is completely full. You must remind your mother to either stop buying new garments, or to install some more clotheslines. Otherwise, laundry day will only be more of a drag. You pick up your skirt, your ankles and legs sweltering underneath the heavy fabric, and hurry into the house.

The air inside isn’t much cooler, but it’s at least shade and coverage from the direct sun. Your dress is definitely too thick for the season, but to be quite fair it was much chillier in the morning, and cloudy too. You try to discreetly fan yourself under your dress, flapping your skirt as you sit down in the parlor, but your mother gives you a disapproving look over her knitting as you do so. You drop your skirts, resisting the urge to throw your head back and groan from the disgusting feeling of the damp material clinging to your sweaty skin. “Ma,” you begin, looking at her hopefully, “isn’t there anything else to do around the house?”

“If you’re so bored, why don’t you recite your Bible verses, or work on your patchwork quilt?” she replies, unamused with your attempts to convince her to leave the house. “You have plenty of things to do before you begin your classes next week.”

You furrow your brow and wrinkle your nose, stopping only when your mother gives you another stern look. “Fine… I’ll work on my quilt,” you mutter, getting up to rifle through the sewing box, which sits in the corner next to the fireplace. You pick up your half finished quilt, the bright colors you naively chose in the winter looking garish and tacky. You regret your choices, but your mother won’t let you pick new colors—it’s much too expensive to buy more fabric, when you have perfectly good pieces to use, she scolded you, making you sulk and give up on the project as a whole for a few months.

It’s not difficult, but it’s mindless and boring. Your fingers start to cramp and twitch, disobeying your mind as you try to finish sewing a bright red patch onto the quilt. Giving up and taking a break to massage your fingers, your eyes slowly move over to look at the grandfather clock that stands in the center of the wall, quietly ticking and biding time. Back home, you knew that the sun usually set well past supper time, and it was only around supper time now. As you stare out the window, you can see the late afternoon sun slowly beginning to sink lower into the horizon, leaving a bright burst of color in its path. Not yet.

You return to your patchwork quilt. Place, hold, sew, knot, snip. Start over.

Time has never passed by so slowly, and you’ve never wanted anything to come quicker. The first interesting thing that’s happened since you moved here for the summer, and you have to wait all day for it to even begin.

Finally, finally, after you finish sewing on a pale green square, you look up, and the sun is beginning to breach the horizon, orangey-red rays spreading across the sky like a live flame. The great big grandfather clock begins to chime, striking seven o’clock, and you pretend to not notice, not wanting to arouse your mother’s suspicions. A few minutes later, once your heartbeat has slowed once again, you sigh and put down your patchwork quilt.

“I think I might go wash up and go to bed early,” you tell your mother, faking a yawn behind your hand. She hardly looks up at you, waving you off as she watches the maids mop the floors with narrowed eyes.

Hurrying up the stairs to your attic bedroom, you make sure your dress isn’t too wrinkled, and you pinch your cheeks to make yourself look a little more flushed, though it doesn’t do much except for make your skin sting a little. Smoothing back your hair the best you can, you sigh, exhilarated, and stuff a few dresses and pillows underneath your covers to make it look like you’re cozy in bed. Then, holding your breath as you hear someone walk past your room, you open your window slowly, inch by inch, until it’s wide enough for you to slip out without your wide skirts catching on anything.

You hold your breath as you climb out onto the roof and slowly shut the window again, making sure it’s still unlocked so that you have a way back into the house once you come back. The drop looks much higher from up here than it does from the ground, and you can feel a pit of uneasiness and fear in your stomach as you cling to the wall of your house and look down at the grassy terrain below. “Damn it,” you mutter to yourself, second-guessing if this is really worth it after all. After a moment of contemplating, you bite your lower lip and start inching down the roof, making sure to grab onto the shingles with your hands, tightly. Once again, inch by inch, you make your way to the edge of the roof, and then peer down. There’s another part of the roof down there that’s much lower, and from there you could easily jump to the ground without injuring yourself.

It takes a few moments to convince yourself you can do it, but you dangle off the side of the roof for a moment before dropping onto the lower portion, your boots landing with a solid thud on the shingles, and you sincerely hope that your mother didn’t hear it. Just in case, you scramble off the lower part of the roof, easily lowering yourself onto the grass, and dart away to the other side of the house. You see the clotheslines come into view, now plucked clean of the clothes and linens by the maids, and you stand by one of the poles that holds up the main line, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

“Hey.”

You jump, again, almost knocking the intruder in the chin. The intruder—whom you now realize as Billy—chuckles and gently grabs your wrist, his calloused fingers rubbing over your soft skin, caressing it. “Sorry if I scared you,” he says, sheepishly. He presses a kiss to the back of your hand, just like the one he gave you before when he bid you goodbye.

“Just a little,” you admit, smiling softly down at him as his slightly chapped lips press to the back of your hand. “But I’ll forgive you… if you give me a reason to.”

“Now what exactly are you implying there, miss?” Billy asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

Boldly, you pull him close, your hands gently grabbing the front of his vest. Your lips brush against his as you whisper, “Something like this.”

Groaning lowly, Billy wraps his arms around you, his hands gripping your waist as he presses his lips firmly to yours, pulling your body against his. In the waning sunlight he looks beautiful, and you can’t help but pull away from the kiss every now and then to catch your breath and stare at him. His bright blue eyes contrast with the warm light of the sunset, which also makes his tanned skin absolutely glow. His handsome, prominent features cast long shadows on his face, and you watch the corner of his lip twitch upwards, almost into a smile as he reaches up to cup your face gently. His thumb brushes against your cheek, and you shudder softly, the feeling making you crave more of his touch. You reach up to place your hand over his, your eyes sparkling in the orangey-pink sunlight, and capture your lips with his again, hungrily, desperately.

“You’re driving me insane, sweetheart,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you closer against his toned, muscular body. You can feel heat radiating off of him through his clothes and he presses himself against you. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna end up taking you right here in this field, where anyone could see us.”

You can’t help the shiver that goes through your body at his dirty words, your eyes widening. You almost can’t believe that he said it aloud, what you were secretly hoping for this entire time. It makes you blush, makes you feel dirty—whorish, even.

He can feel the shudder that goes through your entire body, and he can’t help but smirk at your eagerness, which is expressed through every form of language except speaking. He lightly runs his hands up and down the sides of your body, feeling your curves. “Do you like the sound of that, sweetheart?” he asks—almost purrs, making you moan softly in response, nodding. He chuckles, and pulls you behind a grove of lush apple trees, which are all adorned with small, hard, unripe fruit. Still, the thick, green summer foliage provides cover for the two of you, and as soon as he gets you behind the cover of the trees he starts undoing the back of your dress, making your heart race. Were you really prepared for this? It had been a while since you’d last been with a man—secretly, of course.

He must have been able to sense your hesitation, or something, because he leans down to whisper, “We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t wanna, doll.” He presses a soft kiss to your neck, his tongue gently darting out to lick the sensitive skin. You shiver, squirming under his touch, and shake your head.

“No. I want to… I promise I do,” you whisper desperately. You can’t let this chance get away from you—even though you were debating whether or not you were really prepared, and earlier you wondered whether it was worth it or not to come—now you realize you’ve come too far to give up now. And besides… you do really want it. You think Billy is the one of most handsome men you've ever seen, and you’re not so secretly thrilled that he seems to find you attractive too. You’re not afraid of your sexuality when you’re with a partner, though you’re very well aware of the stigma around discussing it.

Billy looks up at you, studying your expression—presumably trying to see if you’re really being truthful, or if you’re lying to him. He seems to find that you’re being honest, however, as he leans forward and his lips crash onto yours again. He gently picks you up and then lays you down on the soft grass, which is still warm from the sun that was shining down on it all day. He continues to unbutton your dress, desperately wanting to see all of you, but you swat his hand away, knowing you don’t have that much time. He pouts, but instead moves his hands down to start pushing up your skirts, grinning as he simultaneously reaches up with one of his hands to pull down your undergarments as well. You gather your skirts up with shaking hands, exposing yourself to him as you part your thighs. It’s a little odd when you start to think about it—you’re about to hook up with a random man you don’t really know, in the middle of your family’s apple orchard. But as soon as Billy’s hot, wet tongue licks over your folds, your mind goes blank. The only thing you can think of is the way his mouth feels on your pussy.

He rips your undergarments off completely, making you gasp, and then he pushes your thighs apart further, burying his face into your cunt and licking you like he’s been starved of pussy for years. You can’t help but moan, trying to hold back just in case anyone is walking by, but it’s difficult as Billy wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, hard, making you throw your head back and gasp, your thighs threatening to clamp around his head to hold him in place. But his strong hands hold your shaking legs apart as he continues to devour you, without any interruptions.

Soon—much sooner than usual—you feel your orgasm slowly approaching, a certain warmth pooling in your lower stomach as Billy flicks his tongue over your clit and stares up at you with his bright eyes, burning with lust and desire.

“B-Billy…” you whine, bucking your hips and tangling your fingers in his dark curls to pull his face closer to your cunt, “g-gonna…”

Billy groans, wrapping his lips tightly around your clit to suck harder on your sensitive nub. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he encourages, returning his mouth to your soaking pussy, his tongue licking over your weeping slit.

And you do—obedient, as per usual. You come hard, gasping and tightening your grip on his hair, making him moan as he continues to gently lick and kiss your sensitive clit, making your thighs twitch with overstimulation. You release your grasp on his hair as you slowly ride out your orgasm, your breathing slowing and returning to normal. You’re surprised—that was by far the fastest any man has made you orgasm, let alone, orgasm at all. He has manners, you think, as he finally rises from between your legs, licking his lips and tasting your juices, making you feel a wave of slight embarrassment at his shamelessness. He grins at your facial expression, and gently pulls you into a kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, musky and tangy, and you moan, sucking softly on his tongue and making his grip on your hips tighten as he groans into the sloppy kiss.

He reaches down to unbuckle his belt, the clinking sound turning your attention to it. You watch as his large hands quickly and nimbly undo his own belt, and then his jeans, pushing them down slightly. He hesitates as he hooks his fingers underneath his undergarments, looking up at you. “Do you wanna keep going?” he asks, looking into your eyes with a gentle glance, trying to assure you that it’s okay if you don’t.

But you nod eagerly, parting your legs further for him as you lay back in the grass, not even caring any more if it stains your dress. You don’t even care that the sun has nearly completely set now, and the two of you are bathed in reddish orange light as the sunset nears its climax. You too feel that way, as Billy pushes down his undergarments and his cock springs out, your eyes widening as you see it for the first time. It’s certainly impressive, girthy and long, but not unrealistically large. He reaches down to stroke himself a few times before slicking his tip over your folds, shuddering as he feels your wetness coating the head of his cock.

“Ready for me, sweetheart?” he asks breathlessly, looking down at you with an expression that’s a mixture of lust, desire, and concern.

Trying to rid Billy of his concerns, you reach up to cup his face in your hands, and you pull him into a kiss, gently biting his lower lip and making him groan aloud again, his hips bucking forward and nudging his tip inside of your tight warmth. The two of you gasp simultaneously at the feeling of your pussy enveloping the first inch or so of his length, and he starts to slowly push further, inch by inch, trying not to hurt you.

But of course, it was inevitable in this situation. Though Billy had gone down on you, he hadn’t really stretched you out, and you were paying the price for it now. Whimpering, with sweat dripping down your back from the warmth of the sunset and the heat of Billy against you, you try to bear the pain.

He kisses you deeply, nipping on your lower lip to try and distract you from the pain, and it does, just a little. “Fuck…” you whine softly, gritting your teeth as he eases into you, finally bottoming out with a soft groan.

“Language, doll,” he reminds you teasingly, though his voice is strained too—an obvious sign of how deeply you’re affecting him. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he starts to slowly thrust into you, his hands gripping your hips tightly to hold you in place. You can feel just how deep he is inside, how his thick cock penetrates not only your tight cunt, but seemingly your mind and soul. Every sense, every inch of your being is clouded with lust and the image of him. He’s all you can see, all you can hear, all you can taste, smell, and touch.

Perhaps he’s in the same situation as you—the same state of obsession and all-consuming lust, as he moans your name over and over again, paired with obscenities and other dirty words that you wouldn’t dare to repeat. He pulls away slightly to look at you, his rough and calloused hand reaching up to gently smooth your hair back out of your face. He grins.

“So pretty, baby,” he groans, sweat dripping from the tip of his handsome nose, his exertion obvious as his thrusts grow sloppier.

You can feel your wetness coating your inner thighs and dripping down your crevices; every time he thrusts into you, you can feel the stickiness of your combined fluids suctioning his body to yours. It should be disgusting—but you love it—the feeling of his passion mixed with yours.

His breathing grows more ragged, and your whines and moans grow higher in pitch as he feels his orgasm coming on—he thrusts into you harder, your squeals falling on deaf ears as he chases his own release, using you like a toy to get what he wants.

Yet, he reaches down, nudging your legs a little further apart as his thumb starts to rub your clit in small, rough circles, making you gasp and clench around his length. He groans loudly, his movements speeding up. “Come with me, sweetheart,” he demands, his voice firm and gruff. And you can’t help but obey—the combined stimulation of his calloused thumb on your swollen clit and the feeling of his cock fucking into your slick pussy mercilessly pushing you over the edge. You gasp, before moaning loudly, forgetting that this is meant to be a secret rendezvous, as you cum all over his thick cock, your walls clenching tightly around his length. He throws his head back and groans, the feeling of your pussy fluttering around him too much, and he pulls out just as thick white ropes spurt from his tip, landing all over your stomach and pussy.

The two of you lay there in quiet reflection for a moment, the only thing interrupting the silence being the heavy breathing that emanates from both of you. The aftermath of your tryst.

Slowly, Billy pulls away, chuckling a little to diffuse the awkwardness as his bare skin sticks to yours. He uses his handkerchief to clean you up, pocketing it again as he grins at you. “This was fun,” he says, as the two of you get dressed. “We should do it again sometime.”

You can’t help the way your heart flutters hopefully at Billy’s words, at the verbal confirmation that he wants to see you again. “Maybe,” you say shyly, as you stand up, checking to see if there’s any grass stains on your dress after all. Billy walks over to you and hugs you from behind, his hands falling to your hips. He squeezes gently, and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Just maybe? What does a man have to do to get your attention for good?” he laughs, wrapping his arms around you.

“Prove himself to me,” you say, cheekily, as you pull away. Your eyes twinkle in the moonlight, and it makes Billy’s heart skip a beat. He feels like a foolish teenager again, in the midst of puppy love.

“As? A man, a husband, a provider?” he asks cockily, “I can be all of those, for you.”

Rolling your eyes, you reach up to pinch his cheek playfully. “Sure. All of the above,” you say, grinning. “I’m not the type to settle for a man that isn’t loyal or good to me.”

“I’m sure you aren’t, sweetheart,” Billy snorts, thinking about your massive house and your rich father—clearly, you weren’t brought up in such a way, to settle for any sort of mediocre treatment. Still, his heart softens when he looks down at you and your beautiful face. He couldn’t blame you for any of the issues with the rich ranchers forcing out poorer townsfolk—it really wasn’t your fault. But it was just a reminder of the different worlds that you two lived in. “And… I’m not the type of man to betray your trust either. You can trust me.”

“That’s why I’m waiting until you prove it to me. Words only go so far, and even though I want to trust you…” you say, pulling away teasingly. It makes Billy chuckle—he liked when girls teased him, kept him on his toes.

“Alright, alright… I won’t push you too far. Let’s take it at your pace,” he says, his eyes sparkling with affection as he looks down at you.

Billy, always the gentleman, walks you back home. When the massive white house comes into view once again, he whistles—he’s never lived in a house like that. It makes you squirm with embarrassment, almost makes you ashamed that you live in such luxury and most people don’t. Being aware of your privilege was uncomfortable, but he didn’t know that.

He gives you a kiss good night, his touch lingering for just a moment before he pulls away and disappears into the night just as suddenly as he came. With flushed cheeks and your heart thumping in your chest, you climb back up the side of your house. It’s much easier than your initial escape, now that your nerves have calmed.

There’s no question about it—you’ll definitely be seeing him again soon.

#billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #william h bonney x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth smut #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader

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mrs-hollandstan · 4 years

Note

Omg idk if you listen to Post Malone but in one of his songs he says “what’s your name? Who’s your daddy? Is he rich like me?” And I just imagine rich kid Tom saying that to you at a party and then like smut goes on after. Ugh idk that’s just me tho

I actually really love this one lol. NSFW below.

It's like he knows exactly what song is set to come in. He probably does seeing that it's Harrison's party and the two richest boys are inseparable. But when he approached, humming the beginning of Same Bitches by Post Malone, you can't help but swallow and lean into him (as inconspicuous as possible) as he slides into the seat behind you brushing the strap of your dress down your shoulder a little,

"I like this dress on you Y/N. Caught a really good sight of your ass when you came in." The tension between you two had been building in the past few weeks. You'd heard how good he was in bed and he'd heard how good you were in school, to the point that you were a scholarship student. Of course you were his intended victim. And you weren't exactly denying him of it. Just waiting for him to make a move,

"What's your name? Who's your daddy? Is he rich like meee?" He sing-songs in your ear, brushing hair behind your shoulder. Glancing up at him, he smiles, "So… Harrison has a guest room upstairs he's fully stocked for me if you're… up for it." He poses. Staring into those dark eyes he uses to his advantage, you swallow and nod. He chuckles darkly,

"Nice. C'mon." He stands, holding his hand out for you which you take, following him up the grand staircase and down the picture lined hall into a huge guest bedroom. It's spotless and a huge bed with tulle-like material curtains framing it sits in the middle. Releasing your hand, he pushes the curtains apart and turns back to you, fingers slipping beneath your dress to drag your panties down your thighs. Turning you, he shoves you onto the bed,

"God I've wanted to fuck you for so long." He mumbles, pressing his hands to your thighs to keep you in place as he kneels, sliding his tongue up and down your folds and then between them, sucking your clit into his mouth. You hum, focusing on the burn of his hands holding your hips. You glance over your shoulders as his belt clinks and then thunks against the floor and he tears open a condom, smoothing it over himself and stroking himself completely hard. He kicks his pants off, gently nudging your legs apart to stand between them. He gives a gentle swat to your ass, giggling as you yelp before he presses into you,

"Ya know… only eighteen percent of women say they don't need to be touched to cum. You're about to be one of those women baby." He purrs in your ear, pushing your dress up past your hips. You let out a small moan as he starts thrusting into you, picking up the pace after only a few seconds now that your body is stretching out to accommodate him,

"Good girl." He praises as you whimper and cry and moan as his hips slap against your ass, "You like having my dick inside of you finally? Been wanting to fuck you so much recently." He tells you,

"God yes… fuck… harder Tom." You moan, reaching back to pull his hip. He holds himself up by resting his hands on the bed at your shoulders, hips stuttering for a moment before he picks up the pace. You cry out, one of his hands threading through your hair,

"Think you're one of my favorite girls to fuck right now baby. So warm and tight. You've got a nice little pussy sweetheart." He growls in your ear, upholding his promise of striking your sweet spot with each thrust,

"Oh God Tom." He chuckles,

"Scream for me when you cum baby. Tell all those assholes downstairs how good I make you feel." He demands. He pounds into you, hips slapping against your skin. He tugs your hair every once in a while swatting your bottom when he gets the chance. He grunts and groans into your ear. You can feel him twitch every once in a while,

"Tell me something dirty. Make me cum." You demand. He grumbles,

"Something I've always thought about is… fucking you on that little couch in your living room knowing that your mum will be home in minutes. Your legs spread wide while I fucking demolish you. And then I fucking fill you up, pull your panties up as she pulls into the driveway and make you keep your mouth shut about it. Maybe fuck you later too. Bent over the footboard of your bed. Maybe I'd use this little ass. Bet you'd like that huh you naughty girl? Crying into my palm while I fuck your ass and your mum's in the other room." You dig your face into the sheets below you, crying out loudly as your lips give out, body collapsing onto the bed as you cum and Tom praises you through it,

"Good girl." He grunts out before shoving himself as deep as he can inside of you, a warmth filling you as he releases into the condom, head thrown back, "Fuck yes." He growls. You pant beneath him, rolling onto your back and moving up the bed as he pulls out. He discards the condom, kissing up your thighs as he climbs on the bed with you,

"You'd really fuck my ass?" You ask. He chuckles,

"Hell yeah… if you'd let me. There's so much that's sexy about it. I've dreamed of you wearing those hideous fuzzy socks and a t-shirt with my cock in your ass. I'm serious, I've dreamed of fucking you with your mum home over the footboard of your bed." You scoff,

"Bet you say that with all your girls."

"I don't. You're spank bank material strictly Y/N." Staring into his eyes, you find nothing but honesty,

"Really?" He nods,

"You're different. I like it. I've wanted you, sexually and not, for a long time. I'd like to take you out if you'll let me." He tells you. After a moment you laugh,

"You're the most backwards motherfucker. Who fucks someone first and then asks them out?" He joins in laughing,

"Me. I'm fucked up." You giggle again,

"But yes. Sure, we can go out." You confirm. His eyes sparkle,

"Awesome. I'd love to live out my fantasies." Rolling your eyes, you roll from the bed, pulling your panties up your hips and watching him stumble into his pants,

"Now if you'll excuse me, I was being antisocial, drinking alone downstairs." He chuckles, following you out into the hall,

"Just something else I'd like to join you in doing."

"Well I'll let you." You mutter, letting him also take your hand and ignoring all the awkward stares from girls that have been swooning over the little rich boy grinning ear to ear giddily over little old you.

322 notes · View notes

loverholland · 3 years

Text

strings attached

pairing: rich kid! fuckboy! fwb! tom holland x rich kid! fem! reader au | request | original | prompt summary: no strings attached was the agreement. word count: 4,700 warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of mary j, mentions of friends with benefits relationship, & sexual and strong language used. a/n: this is, as requested, fuckboy tom but kind of with a twist. i hope you enjoy this, nonnie!

Going to a party wasn’t really a part of the agenda for today, it was quite the contrary. She had been stressed from working as an intern at her father’s company in Northern London and was going to spend her night unwinding to the newest Bachelorette episode while doing a face mask and sipping on the wine her mom bought her earlier in the week. She wasn’t too sure why, but she appreciated the thought. But the night turned around when her best friend, Cheryl, aka Cherry, had told her that Tom was going to a party, one that she didn’t know about. She didn’t originally want to come, she knew how it would look, and it wasn’t her favorite look. It made her look obsessive in a way, but she didn’t think she was. Cherry was the one who asked, not only because of Tom, but because a few of their mutual friends were there. So, Y/N agreed.

Y/N: hey, i’m going to be at a house party tonight! if you see me, text me! :) x

She wanted to keep it casual and like she wasn’t going to be in the same place as him. But she knew that 217 Liberty Avenue was exactly where he was. She felt wrong for being here. Wrong for letting Cherry bring her to the same party Tom was at. Y/N sighed as Cherry interlinked her fingers with Y/N’s. They stood outside for a moment, the loud rap music pounding the walls.

“Did he reply?” Cherry asked, big green eyes looking up at her.

“No clue.” Y/N replied honestly, moving her free hand to her back pocket of her black ripped skinny jeans and pulling out her phone. She went through the Face ID and pressed on the light green icon to see her messages. She saw his contact and her message, biting her lip. She pressed his contact, darting to the Read at 9:45pm tag. She felt a pang in her heart and a helpless breath of air leaving her lips, her shoulders slugging and fingers unlinking as she locked her phone again. “No. He didn’t.”

“Oh sweetie,” Cherry’s hands touched her shoulders and she laid her head on Y/N’s arm, which was partly covered by the dark green, silk Gucci shirt she was wearing. It was much like Tom’s and she hated that it matched, especially when they’re going through whatever they’re going through.

“I’m sorry. He’s not worth it anyways. We can go drink and have the time of our lives, alright?” She smiled, eyes growing large as she began to drag Y/N to the door. It was white and large and was pushed open with very little force. The music became louder and the lights were dark with pink and green disco lights. It was fucking fantastic and she wished so deeply she had a gram of ouid on her or something. But, she didn't, so whatever.

Cherry dragged her through the crowd of people and into the kitchen where the liquor sat out. Cherry immediately got a recyclable shot glass and one of the bottles, pouring 2 shots out.

“One shot for you,” she pushed one glass to Y/N. “And one for me.” She smiled and picked up the shot glass, raising it. Y/N did the same and clinked theirs together. Y/N pressed the lip of the shot glass against her strawberry red lips and tilted her head back, allowing the nail polish remover to run down her throat.

“Gross.” Y/N started and sat the glass down, looking at Cherry.

“Oh, whatever!” She laughed, “I’m going to make you a drink.” And with that, she bounced off, heels clickity-clackiting across the floor. Her blonde curls bounced over her shoulders and she made sure she was known to be there, such a big personality for such a small human. Y/N sighed and leaned against the counter, fingers tapping on the wood. She was bored but she didn’t want to look at her phone. It reminded her of Tom, weirdly enough. Being reminded of him wasn’t bad, oh God no, it was quite nice. She couldn’t help wonder what he was talking about and how the words would look forming across her lips. If he was thinking about what it would be like to completely destroy her in the closets bathroom. Maybe taking her in the back of his car, again, before taking her back home to properly do the job. She definitely thought about it and it made her miss him more.

Y/N bit her lip as she battled with herself on actually looking at her phone. Another huff and suddenly her phone is up and being unlocked with Face ID. Y/N admired her home screen for a moment, a picture of her, Tom, Harrison, and Cherry at the Eiffel Tower in París. They had gone on vacation a few months back together after she officially graduated with her Bacholors. The photo was bright and they each held a champagne flute. Tom’s fingers were interlocked with hers and they both shared bright smiles. Y/N loved the picture and she often wondered if Tom knew that was her home screen.

Y/N tapped on the yellow Snapchat icon, swiping left immediately to see the stories posted by her friends. Cherry was first, a few snaps from before she had left her apartment to meet with you. Then a video of her doing a shot. Typical. Then it was Y/N’s younger sister, Charity, a 16 year old who was basically Y/N’s younger twin. Charity and a few of her friends had gone to the country club today. Playing golf and going swimming, the typical things. Tapping on, was Harrison’s story. There was a video of Harrison and Tom taking a shot, Tom’s face scrunched up and he stuck out his tongue.

“Gross.” Tom said disgustingly as Harrison laughed.

Y/N giggled and with another tap she was at Tom’s story.

He had posted a shirtless picture to his private story, a bulge very prominent in his grey sweats. Was this in the story only meant for her? Yup! Fuck. He looked absolutely delightful, but with another tap, she saw a photo of him with a girl in his lap. She rolled her eyes and swiped down and off of the stories before swiping to the camera. She sat her phone against one of the many bottles, stepping a few feet back to take an equally hot picture of herself. She made sure to accentuate her hips and her chest, throwing her head back, the way she knows Tom likes. Her hair draped loosely over her shoulders and then, the picture was done. She checked it, made sure that it was up to her standards before adding a GIF to go along with it.

Before she knew it, a hand clasped over her shoulder, making her jump out of fear. She turned around quickly, stabiling herself with the counter, mentally readying herself to start swinging but it was only her best friend who was standing in front of her with a large grin on her face.

“Try it!” Cherry smiled and pushed the red solo cup into Y/N’s hands. Y/N looked down at the brown liquid in the cup, raising an eyebrow at Cherry before bringing the edge of the cup to her lips and taking the smallest sip of it. It tasted like the drink she almost always gets; fireball and coke. Y/N could laugh at the way Cherry whispered a soft “How’d I do?”

Y/N smacked her lips and smiled at Cherry. “You did perfect.” Y/N complimented. “Fireball and coke is a good choice.”

“Well, I know that it’s usually what you get and you told me explicitly that you could not have anything other than fireball, which I still don’t understand because fireball makes you angry sometimes and I don’t know if you’re looking for a fight, but all I’m saying is to let me know before you start throwing down with some bitch because I need to make sure I get it on video.” Cherry rambled, leaning onto the counter to try and leverage herself.

“I’m not going to fight anyone.” Y/N responded, sipping on the drink again. Cherry laughed a pitiful laugh.

“You say that and then someone's going to look at Tom wrong an-” Cherry paused and with wide eyes, looked at her best friend. “Oh no, I'm so sorry I-”

“You're right. I promise I won't fight anyone tonight.”

Cherry smiled and lept onto Y/N, arms catching her neck in a hug, one that Y/N was all too familiar with. She wrapped her arms around Cherry's waist and squeezed her for a moment.

“I love you.” Cherry whispered into Y/N’s ear.

“Ditto.”

And with that they separated. Cherry smiled up and her before kissing her cheek and removing herself completely.

“Do you mind if I go find Charolette? She said she was going to be here.”

“Yeah. I'll stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. If anything changes I'll text you.” Y/N smiled and Cherry returned it, skipping away as her heels clacked against the hardwood floor.

And there Y/N was, once again, alone. Y/N sighed and turned so her back faced the archway, unlocking her phone again and going to respond to a few of the messages she had ignored. This wasn’t her best idea, by far. She didn’t want to be here and knowing that Tom was with someone else and didn’t tell her, made it a bit worse for her. But, Cherry wanted her to have a good time and she would. Especially when they get to go to a breakfast diner later, which was all Y/N needed to be convinced to come out tonight, other than her friends, of course. But she was just tired. Annoyed.

“Y/N?” a familiar voice sounded, causing Y/N to jump again. Damn. She turned on her heel quickly, looking at the blonde man standing in front of her. Harrison Otwrfield. Tom Holland’s best friend and one of her most seen friends. He's not a close friend of hers, not even a “friend”, some would say. More of an acquaintance, if anything. But he was always with Tom and she saw Tom regularly, making Harrison a regular with her. But she didn't trust him. Not for a good reason, she just doens’t trust blonde men, just something about them screams WRONG WAY!

No clue why, they just do.

“Hm?” She hummed, hiking one of her eyebrows up. She lifted her drink and took a large swig before titling it to point at him. “Go on, what do you need?”

“I didn't know you were going to be here.” He simply stated.

“I could say the same.” She looked him up and down. “Daddy’s money” screamed from the Rolex on his wrist and the Gucci belt he wore. “Want a shot?” Y/N asked, turning her back to Harrison, taking the closet vodka. Blue raspberry. How cute.

Taken aback, Harrison chuckled. “You already have a drink.” He mentioned.

“So? Is that a no?”

“Your limit is like 2. Plus, Tom would kill me if you got too drunk.”

“Oh, so now you're watching out for me?” She scoffed, turning around with both shots in between her fingers. “It's one shot compared to the drink I have.”

“Which is?”

“None of your business.” She snapped. “If you're asking for Tom, you can tell him he can ask himself.” She sat the extra shot glass down before tapping the remaining one, throwing it back in a swift gulp.

Y/N grabbed her drink, palm over the opening just so no one can easily slip anything into it. She didn't know where she was going, but it was going to be the next less crowded space in the house. She had to push past bodies, some would give her looks and others would call out her name to get to stop and talk. But she never did, she just continued walking past and towards a corner on the other side of the room. It was small but there weren't many people and it was still in view of the dance floor, so she could give Cherry an exact location. Y/N much preferred to be reliable when they go out and drink. She's had one too many times of over drinking and needing a sitter and not having one, that's when Cherry came into the picture. She was somehow a saving grace and Y/N just wanted to offer that back to her.

Y/N let out the air she had been holding, relaxing her shoulders for a minute. She reached and grabbed her phone and opened her messages, going to Cherry’s contact

Y/N: i'm over by the backyard door. it's close to the DJ area. had to move bc of Haz.

She knew this wasn't the best type of buddy system but it's always worked for them. They have their location for one another on everything and they share their location at all times. Y/N wouldn't let anything happen to Cherry and vice versa. Neither of them ever wanted to overstep when they partied so having a system where one person can drink a little bit but not enough to inhabit them to walk home. The other one on the other hand can drink as much as they want. Sometimes if they had rides, usually Tom and Harrison, they both would drink. But only them would they both be wasted together.

Y/N lifted her drink and repositioned her hand before taking another large swig. She watched over the party, tapping her fingers along to the music. It wasn't good but it was okay. She knew exactly what she wanted to listen to so she unlocked her phone, pulling up Cherry’s contact again.

Y/N: come meet me over here im going to put on Majesty and we HAVE TO DANCE TO IT!

She quickly went to the phone on the chair, the phone was unlocked and already on Spotify. Nice. Um… Search… Majesty… Nicki-Aha! Y/N swiped left and queued the song, going into the already queued and moving it up to the 4th song. Enough time for Cherry to text her back.

Y/N finishes her drink by the time Cherry shows up. She’s alone, unlike many of the times before, but her pink lips still wore the cheekiest smile.

“Missed you!” She said and Y/N repeated the words back. “When's the song going to play?”

“After this one.”

“Okay!” Cherry clapped, taking one of her hands and grabbing Y/N’s, taking them close to the center of the dance floor. Cherry stood in front of her, her hips beginning to move and her arms rising above her. “Let’s move, baby!”

The song started a minute later and Cherry took Y/N’s hands again, moving them so that Y/N would begin moving her hips a bit, and it worked. Time stopped for a moment as they dance and sang together, Cherry turning to dance against Y/N, giggling as they danced with one another. Their hands interlinked as Y/N helped spin Cherry a bit, dropping low with her and following the lead of her best friend. The song naturally fell from their lips; one of the most listened to songs for both of them and the movements were rehearsed in their kitchens, bedrooms, bathrooms and anywhere whenever the song came on.

They even had specific parts they would sing in the car with one another. Y/N and Cherry took turns rapping Eminiems words as they danced with one another as the highway’s went by. The world all melting together while they drove down with the sunroof open and with the windows down, the world all becoming a memory. A memory that she cherished every day of her life.

“Like I'm a meteorite, and motherfuck the fucking media / Right in the behind, I'm a human encyclopedia / I must be like pie crust because I was bread to rise like I was yeast.” The girls screamed to one another and as the next words came up and the syllables left Y/N’s lips, there was a voice she knew all too well.

“And you're never gonna reach these heights / They're just too high to reach / And I ain't even reached my fuckin' highest / You better pick another game / try hide-and-seek-” Thomas fucking Holland rapped in her ear. His voice was low and one of the sexiest things she’s heard him do. He always said he hated this song and he just comes out here bang rapping? Y/N deeply swallowed as Tom’s rough hands touched her bicep, squeezing softly.

Y/N turned and looked at him. She could feel Cherry’s hand on her shoulder as well. Tom’s face was stone cold, red with frustration, she assumed. His eyes held so much annoyance that she was concerned about whatever was going on because he didn't have a right to be angry at her dancing with Cherry, right?

“Hi.” Y/N greeted.

“We're going home.” Tom said sternly. Y/N went to fight back but Cherry squeezed her shoulder.

“I think he's right.” She agreed.

“What?”

“We're going home.” Tom removed his hand from her bicep and instead draped his arm over her shoulder, guiding her to the front door. Dumbfounded by Cherry's agreement and Tom's sudden intimacy that he refused to ever show in this sort of public eye. The hand holding pictures are only some that are taken, they always take some holding hands and then some where there's no touching.

She bumped into people as she was led towards the door, which Tom opened for both of the women he was leading out. Harrison was standing at his black matte BMW, arms crossed as he watched the three of them walk out. Cherry walked from around them and towards Harrison. Was this planned? Y/N’s eyebrows knitted together in curiosity.

Tom led Y/N to his car, not saying anything. It was a white Lexus, one of the newer models. It had red leather seats and matte black accents. She absolutely fucking loved his car, for more than one reason but she couldn't imagine him wanting to fuck after they've both drank. They both agreed a long time ago that we won't sleep together if we're drunk, at least right now.

Tom opened the passenger side door and Y/N ducked in. Settling on the warm leather that summer brought . Tom walked over to the driver side, settling in before looking over at Y/N, eyes looking over her body. The black sheer lace hugging her torso like none other, and the ripped black jeans looked fantastic. Not to mention the black heels she wore. Her hair fell perfect around her face.

“I thought you didn't like Majesty?” Y/N murmured, a hand buckling the seatbelt before crossing her arms.

“I don't.”

“Oh whatever.” She kicked and looked out the window. Tom huffed and pressed a few buttons, a woman's voice saying “bluetooth'' spoke up and he did a bit more. She didn’t watch him, she just knows from all the times before when she did watch him. Tom would do this every time they left somewhere, he refused to listen to the radio. “What playlist are you putting on?”

“Does it matter?”

Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes, turning her head to look at him. “Why of course it does. You know it does! I don’t want to sit in whatever this is without a good playlist at least.”

“What don’t you want to sit in?”

Y/N took a deep breath before releasing everything she’s wanted to say. “Everything that’s been happening over the past few weeks. You’ve ignored my texts and my calls, you never come over anymore and everytime you post on your story it’s something suggestive and all I want to do is tell you how good you look but I don’t feel like I can because you’re not even talking to me.

I don’t understand what’s changed because I would tell you how fucking good you looked and you always responded. Not just to those texts but you responded to every single one. Showing up to parties, wanting a cuddle buddy or just need someone to talk to. You’ve always been there so what fucking happened?”

Tom stared at her for a moment before smiling and shaking his head, pressing the start button and putting his left hand on the wheel. Tom looked over his shoulder and began to pull out from his spot, completely ignoring Y/N’s question. She scoffed and leaned her head back dramatically, rolling her eyes.

“What’s wrong now?” He asked.

“Answer my question.”

“Why?”

Another scoff from her lips. “Because I don’t understand it! You ignore me one minute and then you’re taking me home planning…” she gestured with her hands “...something! I don’t understand what’s happening, Thomas! If you want to end this, then fine! It’s ended, no worries because no strings attached right?” She ranted, tears swelling in her eyes, choking back tears.

“We’re not going to talk about this right now.” He huffed out, falling back into the driver’s seat. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“When’s later? A month from now when you get off your high horse?”

“No, I just want to be parked.”

There was a moment of silence while the soft music from their Fast Approach, a classical playlist. She’s so frustrated but she knows he’s right for wanting to be safe and she couldn’t blame him. “Fine.”

Tom rolled his shoulders and sighed, turning up the volume so that 4 Romantic Pieces played over their thoughts, which were consuming her mind. She felt so much adrenaline, not really knowing if she was in the right but goddamn she was sick and tired of him not answering her. He never acted like this before, all touchy and quiet about how he felt. He always let you know when he didn’t like something. Anytime some guy would begin to dance with her, he always seemed to fuck her like no other had, jealous would rush through his veins and he would make sure that everyone knew she was supposedly his. Leaving bite marks and bruises up and down her breasts and neck.

The drive back to her apartment was long and drewey. She didn’t want to hear his reasons for not talking to her. She was afraid of her heart being broken like time and time again. She would never admit the crush on Tom that she gained with their relationship. No one truly understood that it wasn’t purely just a flirtatious or sexual relationship and it was hard for her to accept the romantic feelings that she slowly began to develop.

They saw each other almost every single night. They would binge watch shows or make playlists and drive around the city. They would get take out and go to bookstores and they made each other one too many things. Too many to throw out, that’s for sure. Fuck, Tom had a drawer at her apartment! He always kept a nice suit at her apartment, gray joggers, a hoodie, a few shirts, changes of underwear and his toiletry products. She had much of the same at his apartment, just adding in some make-up. She found so much peace in his touch, love in his kiss and releif in his words. She couldn’t imagine him going away.

She couldn’t imagine this going away. She’s upset, sure, but the world was everything to her because of him. He took her on drives around the city, always pointing out things. Always taking her somewhere new, whether it is to a new bar or some high class restaurant. She would tell him about the little things, what she appreciated out of life. She would tell him everything and anything he wanted to know, amazed by her mind. She had a Bachlors in Buisness Management from New York Univerity. She wanted a Masters and possible a PhD. She was beyond smart and he couldn’t imagine how her brain works and that’s what he loved most, he told her everytime she said something he didn’t know. The words always followed with a sincere smile.

He’s everything she ever imagined. He’s everything she’s ever needed and the way her heart began to break over the idea of losing him was a lot. Too much in some ways.

She watched the streetlamps pass and took a deep breath as Tom pulled into the parking lot next to her apartment building, bringing the car to a stop in one of the open spots. Y/N didn’t watch him as he turned off the headlights and still didn’t budge when he turned to look at her, a hand gripping the stearing wheel.

“So,” Tom pursed his lips. “Want to talk about it?”

“Fuck you, Tom.” She laughed and tilted her head down as she tongued at her cheek. “I just want to know what happened. It’s fine if you want to end it. I don’t care, okay? I just want to understand and have a solid ending.”

Tom sighed and turned to face the front again. He stared through the windshield, at the bushes in front of them. It was silent with only Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven and Luke Woodapple playing in the background. Y/N sniffled once or twice as she tried to control the intense emotions of frustration begin to welt up in her eyes. She just wanted answers and once again, he’s not answering. He’s leaving her hanging again.

“What changed, Tom?”

The question was much quiter than everything she had said before. Finally letting the tears roll down her cheeks as a flood of emotions hit her all at once. Everyone felt like it was falling apart and the world wasn’t going to stop turning for her. She had never felt such heart break. Not even when she was stabbed in the back in college or when her “high school sweetheart” cheated on her. Nothing could compare to this pain that her heart felt.

“You.”

The world paused for a moment as the words registered in her brain. What does he mean her? There’s no fucking way. She stared at Tom, arms unfolding as tears continued to fall down her cheeks and onto her chest. So many dots felt like they still weren’t connected, but at the same, so many were connecting. Y/N wanted to protest, but Tom beat her to speaking.

“Haz has been on my arse about this for the last month, okay? He’s known forever and Cherry started hopping on the train. I don’t want us to end, I just don’t know what to do because this wasn’t the plan. The plan wasn’t to fall in love with you. You just… changed everything for me. You bring me soup when I’m sick and you let me come over when I can’t bear to be home. There’s no one with a touch like yours and…” a huff as Tom pushed his loose curls back. “...I didn’t know what to do than to get other girls to replace it and no one did and then you just because home and you just became everything I needed. I don’t even know when it happened or how, it just did and now, here we are.”

Tom sighed, giving Y/N the softest smile as he gestured as a way to say ‘there you go.’ And there it was. Her questions were answered, in a way. The worries she had before were now gone and although her heart still ached, she also felt calm. He felt the same. Y/N laughed softly as she wiped the tears, sniffling as she continued giggling.

“What’s funny?” He asked. “You can’t just laugh at me when I’m telling you there are strings attached.” He whined, making Y/N laugh a bit harder, looking over at him.

“Just kiss me, loser.”

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spideyspeaches · 4 years

Text

what if... what if I wrote tom like a rich asshole... and not like the humble cute endearing movie star he is... and he breaks our hearts... 🤡🤡🤡

#kriti talks #heuheuheuheu #basically rich kid!tom au #💀💀#tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x you

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astras-world · 5 years

Text

Rich kid! Peter Stark Au

Warning: Smut, swearing, jewelry fetish (?), dom! Peter parker slight bdsm (bondage) orgasm denial, over stimulation, bullying

Requested: No. Please do send in requests.

Pairing: Peter Stark x Reader

Summary: Peter gets fed up with the bullying then reveals a fantasy.

(Also why is this scene so hot? Like??? It's illegal to look hot that much okay Tom?)

Peter would never be one to show off his wealth, he was humble, a trait his father was proud of yet confused by.

All his life Peter had every thing he could ever want and need and Tony made sure he was well loved as well and yet Peter didn't like showing off or even making it known that he was rich but there would be times when Tony knew the Kid felt a little more confident than other days it usually happens when something good happens like when the two of you started dating, the next day Peter wore a limited editon Gucci jacket he was aware of the stares and he loved it.

Peter usually doesn't splurge but whenever he gets the chance to give you something he would always go all out.

His first gift to you was 3 months after you started dating, he'd gotten you a diamond ring and you stared at him in shock

'Peter, I love you with all my heart but I really don't think we're ready for that" you say nervously

"What?" He looks at you confused then looks at the ring again and realization dawns on his face and he laughs

"oh baby, I'm not proposing" he chuckles slipping the ring on your ring finger

"Not yet at least. This is a promise ring" He smiles at you.

"A promise ring? Peter this must have cost you millions how much even is this?" you were scared to even find out the numbers behind the expensive ring sitting on your finger

"Babe, don't worry about it, this is nothing. I only want the best for my girl." He smiles at you and as much as you want to melt right there you were still concerned about him spending so much money on you.

"Baby, really it's no problem, please just accept it?"

After that the gifts seem to only go up in price from dresses to shoes and bags and the only time he gave you a gift that was below thousands of dollars was a photo album that he put together of his favorite pictures of you since he loved to take pictures and he made a scrapbook out of it and gifted it to you on your birthday.

Today was one of the days when Peter felt a little confident, you knew because he used his favorite Balenciaga shoes and you can smell his favorite Valentino fragrance on him. He greeted you with a kiss as he walked up to you a smile never leaving his face

"Well hello sunshine, what's got you in such a good mood?" You greeted smiling widely at him

"Nothing, I just finally finished the project I was working on down at the lab" He answers smiling even wider than earlier

He always felt a little more confident whenever he finishes a project, he feels accomplished and thus trigger his 'Stark!' side.

"Well congratulations, tiger. I'm very happy for you." you said smiling brightly at him

He takes your hand in his and your knuckles before walking you to your class. He waves as you go in and heads to his class

You meet again later at lunch where you eat with him, ned and mj at your usual spot. You were all discussing plans of going to Peter's place for a movie night in the coming weekend when Flash walks up to your table

"Sup Penis?" He says with a smirk

"What do you want, Flash?" Peter replies flatly

"Well I just wanted to say hello to lovely (y/n) over here" He says eyeing you.

"Well you've said it, can you go now?" You ask sharply

"No need to get riled up princess, hey give me a call when Penis over here can't satisfy you anymore" He says teasingly

"No thanks, I'm sure a chipmunk could satisfy me better that you can ever satisfy any girl on this planet' You smiled fakely

"What the fuck did you sa-" Flash grabs your arm and Peter immediately grabs his arm and twists it

"Grab my girl again and you won't have an arm next time" Peter says darkly

"Whatever, Penis. Everybody knows your 'Balenciaga' shoes are fake anyway." Flash pulls his arm away and huffs in irritaion

"You mean like all your 'designer clothes?" Peter fires back quickly. "impressive though maybe next time cut off the tag that says poshmark, yeah?" He says with a hint of amusement

Flash gets flustered by the remark and stomps away.

"God, when will he ever leave us alone?" you say rolling your eyes.

You continue the rest of the day without any more interruptions but Peter seems a little off ever since the encounter in the cafeteria so you when you get to his place like you usually do you decide to drag him up his room and confront him

"okay what's up?" you ask as you lock the door to his room and sit down next to him on his bed

"it's nothing babe, just tired" he smiles a forced smile at you and he knew you weren't convinced.

"Peter? Honest answer?" You ask once again raising your eyebrows at him

"I just... thought about what Flash said earlier." he admits

"Which one?" you ask

"The one where I uhm- don't satisfy you" He answers slowly and his face flushed of embarrassment his eyes not meeting yours as he was obviously shy about the subject.

Peter was always shy around talking about sex but he listened to what you said you liked and tried to implement it to your sex life as much as he could, he never really told you any fantasies or fetishes and kinks. He was incredibly shy when during your first time but he was amazing.

"Aw baby," you laugh at him amused making his face flushed more "you've done nothing but satisfy me both on and off the bed, okay? You always do." you say sincerely cupping his face with your hand and making him look up at you.

"What I'm more worried about is if I'm satisfying you" you say

"What? Of course you do, baby." He says looking up at you confused

"Well you never really tell me what you like, what turns you on and such" you say shrugging

"Well, you turn me on baby, everything you do turns me on" He says holding your face and swiping gently on your cheek.

"So no fetishes, kinks, fantasies?" you ask

"Well.." he leads on

"so there is! Mr. Peter Stark has a kink!" you chuckle throwing your hands up in success "What is it babe?" you ask smiling

"it's weird really, it's fine if we don't do it, it's okay, we don't have to" Peter rambles.

"Baby, it's fine. tell me please?" you say pouting.

"fine its uh- umh- it's more of a fantasy I guess?" he stutters as he starts and you hum telling him to continue

"uhm I wanna fuck you while you're wearing diamonds and heels and nothing else." he says shyly expecting you to reject the idea

This shocks you a bit but then you remember all the times he's given you diamond accessories and how happy he was but also nervous when you wear them, it turned him on seeing you wear expensive things he buys you.

"uhm- well I don't exactly have your gifts on me right now?" you say still a little shocked.

"wait, your want to do it?" he asks surprised

"well yeah, it actually sounds really hot amd I'd love to do it with you but i don't have your gifts on me right now." you say

"uhm- well there's an uhm box in my closet filled with those kind of things if you really want?" he says nervously, your breath hitches

"you keep a box full of diamonds in case i agree with your fantasy?" you ask

"Well, kinda? I was planning on giving you those things anyway but uhm you found out" he says swallowing nervously.

"okay, let me get changed and-" you start but Peter cuts you off, "actually uhm, can I- can I do it?" Peter asks shyly a tone of hopefulness in his voice

"do what?" you ask confused

"Can I uhm- put it on you?" he requests his face heating up and you can't help but smile at how cute he looks

"okay babe, do what you want with me" you say smiling and stand up.

Peter starts to undress you as soon as he hears your approval his hands fumbling with your shirt, you lift your hands to let him take it off revealing your belly button peircing. Next was your pants, he unbuttones your jeans and slides the zipper down he slips it off your body leaving your underwear, he takes off your bra next leaving you practically naked. He steps back and stares at you

"you look beautiful baby." he leans in and kisses you on the lips "I'll get the things go sit on the bed" he says and goes to his walk in closet,

he's gone for a couple of minutes before returning with a big box he opens it and everything sparkles in your eyes. Every piece looks amazingly beautiful and crazy expensive. He reaches for the shoes first.

He kneels in front of you and slips the heels on your feet leaving kisses as he does next he pulled out two thick diamond bracelets and clasps it around both of your wrists followed by several thin diamond rings slipping them through your fingers he kisses the back of your hand after. He pulls out a thick diamond chocker and kisses your neck before clasping it around your neck and then the final piece is a diamond chain bra, it covers nothing but it's surprisingly more comfortable than you thought it would be.

He steps back to look at his handy work he gulps visibly "fuck baby girl, you look better than I thought you would." he says breathless

You feel shy all of a sudden, you weren't used to having billions of dollars in your body but you certainly loved Peter's reaction to it.

"Go lie down baby girl" Peter instructs and you comply you lie down flatly in the bed looking at the mirror on the top of his bedroom and you see how sexy you look with all of Peter's jewels on and you gasp slightly at the sight.

Peter notices your reaction. "You look perfect don't you, baby?" you look back at him and he's putting on his web shooters "Why are you wearing those? You asked him confused

"you'll find out soon, love" he smiles gently at you. "Karen, do not disturb protocol, please" He orderes to the AI

"Do not disturb protocol enabled." Karen replies

Peter walks up to you and lies on top of you using his arms to lift him up away from your face so he doesn't crush you. He then kisses you hungrily you kiss him back with the same force, one of his hands go down between you two and plays with your clit through the fabric of your underwear.

You gasp lightly at the contact. He stops kissing you and put your hands up above your head and shoots webs making your hand stick to the head board

"As much as I love your hands, I wanna be in control tonight love" He says lust clear in his eyes, be takes off your underwear and he kisses you again an continues to play with you clit

"So wet, love" Peter comments pulling away from your lips

"All for you" you sigh as the pressure inside you builds up as he plays with you. He pulls away from your lips and licks one thing of your nipples that were sticking out from the bra, he pushes a single digit inside you and you arch your back in pleasure

"Baby please," you whine wanting more than his fingers. "Be patient, love" He replies pushing another digit in and curling his fingers in a 'come here' motion you gasp in delight as he finger fucks you and you feel yourself so close to your orgasm

"Baby, I'm close fuck" you pant and he pulls his fingers out in an instant "Peter, what?" you asked him in outrage, Peter never denied you of your orgasm cause he loves the face you make when you do. He stands up and slips a sleeping mask over your eyes and slips your underwear back on.

He simply smiles at you and stands up "I think that's enough for now, baby" he says walking towards his bathroom

"What?? Peter you can't be serious? At least get me out of here! I swear to god Peter Stark if you leave me like this you're not allowed to touch me for the rest of the year!" you shout at him as he enters the bathroom

He looks back at you and smiles "I'll take my chances, love" he winks and closes the door. You let out a frustrated growl cause you can't even touch yourself and as much as you pull at your wrist, the web won't come off.

You silently curse Peter in your head while glaring at the bathroom door when you suddenly feel vibrations coming from your underwear then you hear the shower start to run.

"Peter Stark, you little shit" you mutter unbelievably. You feel the intensity increasing and you can't help but whimper helplessly.

Within minutes you're trembling from the violent orgasm that hit you and you had an inkling feeling that it wouldn't be you're last

By the time that you heard Peter got out of the bathroom you were a whimpering mess after your third orgasm tears were streaming down your face

"Peter, please" you begged. Peter lifted the sleeping mask off your face and immediately an apoligetic look us written all over his face "shh baby, I got you. I'm sorry, love." He apologized over and over as he slipped the underwear off you and desolved the web in your arms

"I'm sorry baby," he says holding you close to him "I took it too far, I'm sorry, baby" he whispered

"hey, it's okay, Peter. I like this side of you" You explain your voice soft

"but I took it too far" He whispers in your ear

"I could've asked you to stop it, I liked it, Peter. But I'd like it better if you'd fuck me." you say against his neck

"you sure, babe?" He asked, a concerned look on his face

"Please, Peter. I need to feel you inside me" you beg quietly

And just like that a fire sparked in his eyes spreading your legs apart and before you could process it, Peter is thrusting himself inside you. You moan out loud and arch your back from the sudden pleasure spreading throughout your body, you hear him silently curse and he began slowly thrusting in and out of you

The slow pace was familiar to the both of you and while you usually didn't mind it you need more of him

"Faster, Peter" you whimper between moans. Peter obeyed your requests and quickened the pace, your head hitting against his headboard and left you a moaning mess, scratching his back.

One of his hands went to your clit, increasing the pleasure you've been feeling nearly sending you over the edge

"Fuck Peter, I'm coming" you moan "Hold it for me, baby" he says breathlessly his thrusts becoming sloppy

"Baby, please I need to cum, please let me cum" you whine against his skin "wait for me baby" he commands softly continuing to drive you insane till he feels himself coming close

"okay, love cum for me" as if on queue, you tremble against him as he thrusts into you riding out your high and he comes inside you filling you to the brim.

He lies down panting beside you, holding you close to him and kissing your forehead.

"Thank you, baby." he mutters against your head. You look up to him confusion on your face "What for, bub?" you ask him

"For letting me do this with you." he kisses you in the lips. You hum in approval

"it's nothing, baby. I enjoyed it. Didn't know you had this side of you though" you chuckle against his lips and sending him a wink

"Well I couldn't let you have all the fun, now can I princess?" He laughs.

"Fair point" you smile to him

"Let me take care of you, princess he says standing up and removing the jewelry from your body and picking you up towards the bathroom.

Safe to say that wasn't the last time that you saw that side of Peter Stark

#peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #spider-man #spiderman: far from home #spiderman: homecoming #peter parker is tony stark's biological son #peter parker you little shit #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #rich kid! au #au

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lnfours · 5 years

Text

paradise | t.h

summary: tom’s not crazy about anyone but you. not my gif

warnings: language, smut, a little fluff towards the end, rich kid!tom, college!au, and this is heavily inspired by ‘paradise’ by bazzi.

words: 1.5k

masterlist | add yourself to my tagged list | paradise by bazzi

it was late when your phone buzzed next to you, your lock screen lighting up with the usual ‘are you awake?’ text from tom. to which you replied with the address of the rental home off campus you got with a couple friends to spend spring break. the three weeks you were off campus felt like an eternity to tom.

when he snuck in through your window, you felt like a teenager all over again. the adrenaline coursing through your veins like a rush. his grey sweatpants that sat low on his hips made your heart stop, his chain sticking out against the black t-shirt. you played with it between your fingers, the ring hitting against his chest.

“mm,” he hummed, his hands slipping under the tank top you were wearing,”you gorgeous, darlin’. fuckin’ stunning.”

you smiled, fingers gripping his curls softly,”you’re gorgeous, too, tommy.”

he chuckled, leaning towards you and connecting his lips with yours. you kissed him back, the feeling of his soft lips taking over your senses. tom always tasted like a mint along with a hint of cherry from his chapstick. you never minded, the taste of him becoming your new favorite thing.

toms lips moved to your neck, leaving soft kisses along with hickeys, marking you as his. your hands slid under his black t-shirt, soft fingertips tracing against his abs. tom groaned as you slowly moved against him, his hard on pressing against you, causing you to whimper.

“tommy,” you breathed as he kissed up your jawline,”tommy, please.”

he smiled against your skin,”tell me what you want, baby.”

you rolled your body against his again, grinding down on him,”you, baby, i want you.”

he let a moan rise from the back of his throat, biting down on your shoulder softly. you let your fingers run down his back, scratching softly. he sat up, stripping the black t-shirt off before tossing it onto the floor. you kissed his neck, causing him to lean back against the cool, wooden headboard.

you kissed down his neck and to his chest. he let out a sigh as you reached the top of his calvin’s that were sticking out from the top of his grey sweatpants. you hooked your fingers onto the waistband, pulling the grey material down his legs before he kicked them off and to the ground.

tom had pushed your panties off, tossing them onto the floor where the rest of your clothes sat. tom pulled father up his body, curls wild.

“i’ve got a seat for you, darlin’.”

you almost choked, catching what he was saying. you swallowed, heart thumping against your chest.

“you sure?” you asked. you had never sat on his face before, the idea being a little intimidating as you weren’t sure if he’d be into it. but as the words flew effortlessly off his tongue, your stomach twisted.

“c’mere, babygirl.”

you moved so you were positioned over top of tom’s face. he licked his lips before pressing a soft kiss against your thigh,”ready, angel?”

you nodded, lowering yourself closer to tom as you held onto the wooden headboard. he licked up your folds, causing you to let out a soft moan from the contact of his warm, wet tongue.

you reached down, taking a handful of his curls in between your fingers. he smiled softly, licking again, this time swirling the tip of his tongue against your clit. you let out a moan. tom gripped your thigh, letting you ride his tongue, his nose bumping your clit with every move.

“tommy,” you whimpered from above him,”i’m close.”

“cum for me, love.” he mumbled against you, the vibrations sending you closer to the edge. as you rocked your body against his tongue, he pushed a finger into you, making your mouth drop open as you let out a moan.

“c’mon, love, cum for me.”

his words alone sent you over the edge, moaning above him as you came undone over him. he rubbed soft circles into your thigh, helping you ride out your high.

you climbed down from his face, legs on either side of his hips. he wiped his face with the back of his hand, licking his lips, and just like that you were wet all over again.

“you taste good, petal.” he smiled. you smiled too, leaning down and kissing him. he kissed you back, the taste of yourself on his lips making you moan. he grabbed at your hips, pulling away to press a kiss on your collarbone.

“can i,” you were cut off by a groan that left your lips as he sucked a hickey on your left boob,”ride you.”

he smirked, nodding softly before reaching over the bed, grabbing the sweatpants from the floor. he grabbed his black leather wallet, opening it before grabbing the foil wrapped condom that was tucked behind a couple hundred dollar bills.

“never expected you to be the ‘i keep a condom in my wallet’ kinda guy.” you joked. he smirked at you, ripping open the packaging before handing it to you.

“i’m full of surprises, darling.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, leaning down and rolling the condom onto his length. the feeling of your hand around him made him moan. he took both of his hands, ripping the tank top off your body.

“hey!”

“i’ll buy you a new one.” he mumbled, kissing you before removing the remains of the black tank top from your figure.

“okay, ready?” he asked, arms wrapping around you to help you move against him. you nodded, lowering yourself onto his length, the both of you moaning as your walls clenched around him.

“fuck, you’re so tight.” he mumbled, leaning forward and kissing your chest. you tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling softly as you sunk back down onto him. he let out a moan against your skin, the kind of moan that let you know he wouldn’t last long if you kept doing that.

so, you did it again, this time the both of you moaning as one of his hands snuck between the two of you, rubbing his fingers against your clit, causing you to breathe out,”tom, keep doing that.”

you rocked your body against him, his arms moving you up and down on him. your fingernails sunk into his shoulder, his mouth moving to your jawline. you were so wrapped up in tom, his hands, his jaw, his biceps, his cologne; he was your boy, no one else’s.

“tommy,” you moaned out,”i’m gonna cum.”

“cum for me, love,” he said in your ear,”c’mon, you got this.”

his praises led you to the edge, but his moan that left his mouth as you sunk back down onto him was enough for the coil inside you to snap. he let out another moan, feeling your walls clench against him. he soon came undone himself, the two of you riding out your highs before you climbed off him, letting him throw the condom away in the trash can near the doorway.

you laid on the bed, catching your breath, staring up at the ceiling. tom climbed back onto the bed, hovering over you. you smiled, reaching up and brushing the pieces of hair from his forehead.

“you never did tell me,” you started, playing with the chain that hung around his neck,”why’s the ring on the chain instead of your finger?”

he shrugged, looking down at you,”don’t really know, to be honest. the ring means a lot to me, was my grandparent’s. told myself from the day i got it that i was going to give it to the girl i plan on marrying.”

you ran your fingers through his curls, your heart sinking as he mentioned ‘the girl he plans on marrying’. but he could see right through you, could see the flash of sadness behind your eyes.

that’s when he reached up, tugged the necklace off his neck. you looked at him confused before he tugged it over your head, letting the necklace sit on your neck, the ring falling low between your breasts. your heart stopped as you looked at him in the eyes.

“tom-“

he placed his index finger over your lips,”i love you, y/n.”

it was true, he did love you, loved you more than anything in the world. even through all the other relationships and hooks up he’s had, only you could drive him absolutely insane, and he knew that as soon as the two of you were ready, that he was going to put an expensive and shiny ring on your left ring finger. he wanted you, no one but you.

your heart quickened at the three words. they would normally fall from his lips effortlessly, but in this moment, it almost made you cry.

“you’re high.” you chuckled, moving to take the necklace off, but he grabbed your hand.

“i’m not,” he said,”i want to marry you, y/n. for 3 years, that’s all i’ve ever thought about. when i picture my future now, all i see is you. you’re the love of my life. i wouldn’t want anyone but you.”

you saw the look in his eye and you nodded, knowing that he was serious. he moved a piece of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. you played with the necklace that sat around your neck.

“i love you, too, tom. more than anything.”

tagged: @tomshufflepuff @behxndthemask @tsukishiromiki @i-love-superhero @scorpiostunner1027 @queensholland @lostamongstthecosmos @feeling-straange @lauren2408 @kaitlynthehuman @cutehollands @zpidey-sense @maggie-starz @heyrogers @peterparkeroos @stephie-senpai @lol-you-thought @cutie1365 @avengersgirllorianna @hista-girl @casualprincess77 @keithseabrook27 @tomhollandsmouthfr0g @wtfholland @dark-night-sky-99 @wowitstonystark @no-aaaahhhh @sskidizzle @sholla4-314 @maggiepalma @awshucks-ace @httpmcrvel @peterparkers-waffles @casuallifexcreativesoul @inspiredbynewt @chennyetomlinson @pvnk-bivch @iaiabear @spidey-pal @lovelyh0lland @spicygrethan @woah-jess @embrace-themagic @annahollanddd @savethebabyseals @sighspidey @spideyyypeter @yourwonderbelle @organicmillie @ravynnn-12 @nichu @valkyries-bi @superserumstark @iamgabriellelambert @utsoftie @yoinksholland @mischiefmanaged49 @paradoxparker @sdrecsfics @solarspidey @randomfandom3599 @quicksoldier @notunlimited @smexylemony @captainbuckyy @ashely313-blog @tom-hollands-eyelash @slytherinholland @tomsobriens @delicately-written @kiggys-newblog @alexindahouse @aoonai @babylsn @musicgirl234 @tomhollandandmarvelsworld @shortieminn @lushparkers @sweetenedangeltears @gopnista @jackiehollanderr @purple-ash27 @tomsmelanin @tsukimi-ackerman @the-queen-procrastinator @estillion14 @awkwardfangirl2014 @lovelyspidey @gorl-d @xitzbrookiex @playbucky @luutaku @kathykat243 @slytherinrising @luckyplums1 @wekindadepressed @maggiekelly51 @summernykole @fairydustparker

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leiasfanaccount648 · 6 years

Note

Hi! What about rich kid!tom who is a true gentleman to his girlfriend?

Hello!!

Oml yes that’d literally be everything. But the thing is, he’d be so innocent/gullible about it.

Like he’d take her out to some restaurant he always went to at least once or twice a month when he was growing up and it’d be one of those places where like each meal is at least $80. Then, the first time he takes her there, she goes pale as she reads the menu but Tom insists that she get whatever she’d like (not thinking much of it).

“Tom, the salad alone is $30.”

“Is that what you want to get, love?��

“If you’ll let me pay for it.”

“We both know that’s not gonna happen.”

He’d almost never let you pay for your dinners/dates out together, but if you’re one planning out the date, then you force him to let you pay so that you don’t feel so bad about it.

“How big is the golf course?”

“Well, it’s mini golf and has 18 holes, but it shouldn’t be any bigger than your living room.”

“Which one?”

He doesn’t constantly spend his money, but he won’t hesitate to get you something that you want.

“Don’t these candles smell amazing? They’d be nice for when I take baths.”

“Which ones would you like, darling?”

All in all, the one of the main reasons he acts so loyal and true to you is because you do the same despite how different the two of you grew up, but that didn’t stop the both of you from falling for each other.

#tom holland #rich!tom #rich kid!tom holland #rich!au #tom holland au #Rare AU Day #anon ask #anonymous #send me asks #tom holland fic #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst

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tomhollandfics · 3 years

Text

Mini Fic Lists (Requested)

here are all the smaller fic lists that i have compiled for my followers - i am continuously updating it x

SMUT

Breeding Kink

Innocence Kink

Car Sex

Public Sex

Sub!Tom

Praise Kink

Overstimulation

Threesome Fics

Edging

Sub!Peter

Virign

Humiliation / Degradation

Sex Pollen

Masturbation

Bratty!Reader

Dirty Talk

Hate Sex

One Night Stand

Lap Dance

Cockwarming

FLUFF

Quarantine Fics

Peter x Shy!Reader

Insecure/Anxious Reader

Panic Attacks

Fluff

Telling Tom You're Pregnant

Meeting Tom's Family

Peter Parker Comfort Fics

Soulmate AU's (Peter)

Cuddle & Comfort Fics (Tom)

Dad!Peter

Drunk Confessions

Lazy Days

Upside Down Spiderman Kiss

ANGST

Unrequited Love (Peter Parker)

Cheating

Peter Parker Angst, 2

Nightmares

Fights

Jealous of Zendaya

Enemies To Lovers (with Peter)

Depression

Angst To Fluff

OCCUPATION

Personal Assistant

Youtuber!Reader

Nanny!Reader

Makeup-Artist!Reader

Surfer!Tom

Stark!Reader

Rich-kid!Tom

Florist!Reader

OnlyFans

Doctor!Reader

RACE/ETHNICITY (Reader)

Desi!Reader

Black!Reader

MISCELLANEOUS

Tom's POV

Hanahaki Disease (Peter Parker)

Golf Fics

Age Gap

The [Number] Of Times Tom/Peter [Did This]

Featuring Zendaya

Featuring Harrison

Arvin Rusell Fics

Monaco GP

Tom's A Fan

Exes (Second Chances)

Roommates ft. Haz, Harry & Tawaine

Roommates

Instagram Live / Accidentally Reveals Relationship

Childbirth

Songfics, Taylor Swift, Little Mix

Royal AU

Brother's Best Friend/Best Friend's Brother

Vampire!Tom

Peter x Blackcat!Reader

Plus-size!Reader

Social Media Fics (Authors)

Stepmum/Stepdad

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #fic lists #tom holland fanfic #mini fic list

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annathesillyfriend · 3 years

Text

Anna's July Fic Recs

Welcome to my July fic recommendations masterpost!! I thought I'd have so much time now that I'm staying with my parents and doing nothing. I thought I'd get through all the amazing fic waiting patiently in my tbr... yeah, that didn't work out 🙂 But still, I've managed to read some gems and I am so excited to share them with you!

To all the writers - I love you and I appreciate you so much!

To all the readers - please, share the fics you read and love. The reblog really makes the change! It’s the least we can do to show our gratitude.

HOLLAND & Co.

🌷TOM HOLLAND🌷

ice lolly by @lauras-collection

one-shot, 18+, 🧁🍭😏, laura snaps left and right, but what's new???

lonely heart by @/lauras-collection

one-shot, 18+ but make it emotional, look who's back!! it's laura again bc everything she writes is 24k gold

office hours by @screamholland

series, 18+, professor!tom x ta!female!reader, liz thank you for always providing us with absolute bangers

unlatched by @spidey-sophie

one-shot, 18+, ceo!tom x personal assistant!reader, enemies to fuckers 😈, i read it like an hour ago and i'm still shaking you guys

break my heart by @rosyparkers

social media au series, i love me a good social media au fic and this one is just 👏👏

plan, interrupted by @uglypastels

one-shot, 18+, i am in awe, the perfect angst to fun to smut ratio, such an original concept with an impeccable execution 👏👏

sink or swim by @reawritesthings

one-shot, 18+, surfer!tom, fwb, best friends to lovers, phenomenal 👏

floating hearts by @veryholland

one-shot, i'd rather have him skin me alive than take me out to the ice rink but this is adorable :')

strings attached by @loverholland

one-shot, 18+, rich kid! fuckboy! fwb! tom holland x rich kid! fem! reader

limelight side a + side b by @specialk-18

series, r&b singer!tom x publicist!OC, side a is so good, haven't read side b yet but i'm sure it's just as good!

lover boy by @farfromharry

one-shot, lifeguard!tom, the cutest!!

jealousy, jealousy by @waitimcomingtoo

one-shot, famous!reader, so fun, i loved it so much 💙

summer night by @blindingdutchy

one-shot, 18+, literally my dreams written down

🌷HARRY HOLLAND🌷

afterglow by @spider-barnes

one-shot, 18+, taking the relationship to the new level

perfectly perfect by @/spider-barnes

oen-shot, reader's helpind harry with his insecurities

the next 10 minutes by @greenorangevioletgrass

one-shot, 18+, stage manager!harry x actress!reader, fwb, ava is the queen of my heart, thank you and goodnight

🌷HARRISON OSTERFIELD🌷

reasons wretched and divine by @greenorangevioletgrass

part of the rich kid!haz au, 18+, the are not enough words in the universe the describe my love for that man, that fic and the woman, the icon, the legend ava ✨

if you feel the same by @duskholland

one-shot, the love of my life harrison + the love of my life h = 💙💙💙

love at the second sight by @mcumendes

series, actress!reader, costars + enemies to lovers, this is bloody amazing, sabrina ily babe you're a star ✨✨✨

MARVEL

🌷BUCKY BARNES🌷

half a man by @whitestarbucky

one-shot, 18, did it rip my heart out? sure. does it change the fact that i'd let riley run me over with a roadroller twice a day everyday for the rest of my life? no

hide out by @xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, are we even surprised to see dani here? she lives rent free in my heart, my mind and my rec lists

electirc by @buckys-darling

one-shot, 18+, left me brain dead cause it's so damn good

top shelf by @jobean12-blog

series, bookshop/bartender/baker au, so lovely!!

the lost converse by @firefly-in-darkness

one-shot, so lovely! daisy's fics are always 💙💙💙

bulova by @/babycap

one-shot, friends to lovers, so beautiful!

the good things by @houseravenclaws

one-shot, i love it!!!

tap by @/houseravenclaws

one-shot, STUNNING!

the things you've done by @divine-mistake

one-shot, no smut but 18+, so bloody good!!!

this was a premonition, i think by @divine-mistake

one-shot, no smut but 18+, tfatws!bucky, once again amazing work!!

unconventional love by @jurassicbarnes

one-shot, 18+, bodyguard!bucky x modern royal!reader, m's works are always great, i am convinced she wouldn't be able to write a bad thing if she tried

what a night by @/jurassicbarnes

series, so good!!

missing piece by @likeahorribledream

one-shot, new relationship with b, stunning work!

this fic by @becca-e-barnes

one-shot, 18+, i,,,,🤯🤯🤯 it killed me and i came back from the dead just to write this

i was made for lovin' you @buckycuddlebuddy

one-shot, 18+, rockstar!bucky x bassist!reader, husband!bucky 🤤🤤

crawl home to her by @nexusnyx

one-shot, this made me feel all 🥰🥰🥰

ducky boxers by @thewritingdoll

one-shot, single dad!bucky with twins, so lovely!

sacred new beginnings by @golden-bucky

one-shot, meeting bucky at the animal shelter, cat dad!bucky is everything

roommate bucky by @metalbuckaroo

collection of fics, roommate!bucky, love every single one of them!

closer to you by @bloomingbucky

one-shot, 18+, buck + facetime - clothes = 👌

brassy by @tuiccim

series, 18+, bucky x reader + loki x reade (fwb), great work!

🌷SARAHBUCKY🌷

this fic by @ocean-bucky

one-shot, this thing is the most adorable story in the world and vidra is a queen

🌷SAM WILSON🌷

if you forget, i will be your memory by @babycap

one-shot, do you know the feeling when you toss and turn in bed for what seems like hours but then you turn your pillow over so it's cold again, find a perfect postion and finally fall asleep? yeah, reading this will give you the exact same feeling

this fic by @ritesofreverie

one-shot, 18+, inspired by sam's training montage™, AMAZING

finally by @moonlight-prose

one-shot, reunion with sam, attention! you will cry your eyes out

the first time you lost him + part II by @lavenderwilson

two-shot, part of the first time series, lot of heartbreak but it's really woth it! please read the other works from this series!!

🌷STEVE ROGERS🌷

everything and beyond by @rodrikstark

series, mutual pining, this is my favourite steve series i've read in a while, it was perfect from beginning to end!

painted bodies by @bvckysmoon

one-shot, painter!steve, beautiful writing!!

love me as though there were no tomorrow by @ritesofreverie

one-shot, 18+, artist!steve x genderneutral!reader, so poetic, i am in love!

white paper + part II by @marvelescape

two-shot, modern au, paralegal!reader, singledad!steve, cute kid, coffee shop - yes, just yes

positions and pleasures by @/tuiccim

series, 18+, steve and his girl get their hands on 'the 10 position that will get her off every time' list 🤤

🌷JOAQUIN TORRES🌷

obvious by @mischiefmanaged71

one-shot, fluff™, this star is always feeding me with golden torres content and i am so grateful!!

teach me how to love by @mischiefmanaged71

one-shot, easily one of my top 3 torres stories!! got me addicted to the song as well

🌷PETER PARKER🌷

where we rot by @starknik22

series, villain!reader, amazing!

angel by @sourholland

one-shot, avenger/widow!reader, loved it!

amorentia by @tinyyoungblood

one-shot, hogwarts!au, the love i have for this fic is so storng i feel like my heart could burst any second

secret by @earlgreydream

one-shot, stark!reader, dating in secret, love this!

better half by @ptersmj

one-shot, peter is soft, i am soft, everything is soft 😌

inexperienced by @/starktonyx

one-shot, teaching pete how to kiss 👀

someone by @/peterplanet

one-shot, ‍💓💓

🌷YELENA BELOVA🌷

practice makes perfect by @/belowva

one-shot, 💕💕💕

OTHERS

🌷ANDY BARBER🌷

this fic by @/worksby-d

blurb, tiny little thing but made me so happy!

🌷DRAMIONE🌷

the gala by @/icepower55

one-shot, came back to my roots, the first fanfics i've ever read were dramione :') amazing work, this gem reminded me why i love them together so much

#anna's fic recs #fic recs july fic recs #tom holland x reader #harry holland x reader #harrison osterfield x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #sam wilson x reader #peter parker x reader

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gxdsfavgal · 2 years

Text

i’m finishing up some drafts!

The Chase - rich kid! tom holland x rich kid!reader (enemies to fuck buddies)

Karaoke Night - Conrad x reader (angsty, jealousy, fluff, maybe smut)

Rear View Mirror - Rooster x fem!reader (smutty, old best friends)

Gun and Gum - Rafe x pogue!fem!reader (secret relationship smut)

Let me know if you want to be in the taglists for these! Just tell me the title(s) of the ones u want to be tagged in🤍

#tom holland #tom holland smut #conrad fisher #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #rooster smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #dark!rafe cameron

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mrs-hollandstan · 2 years

Note

Richkid!tom as tue reader'sugar daddy?

👀 decently dirty

"Daddyyyyy!" You call. You watch Tom fight his smile before he's spinning,

"Darling… what is it now? What would you like?" He poses. You hum, moving towards him. He fucking loves the sway of your hips, could get lost in all of you. You shrug as you lean on his knees, sinking to your own between his legs,

"I dunno… there's this really gorgeous dress at Saks. Could be useful for all your galas." You tell him, cocking your head. He chuckles as you cross your arms across his thighs,

"Yeah?" You nod,

"And there's this really nice lingerie set at Honey Birdette. I think you'd like it. It's blue just like you like." He hums,

"I don't exactly get anything out of that baby girl. What's in it for me?" He asks, eyes hooded. You giggle as you stand, sliding into his lap to straddle him,

"Well why would I be buying the lingerie unless I let you peel it off me?" You purr, leaning in to kiss just below his ear and across his neck. He purrs low in his throat,

"Tell you what…" He starts as he stands, dropping you onto his bed and crawling over you, "I'll up your allowance to ten thousand this month. Surprise me with whatever you'd like, and then we'll spend the whole weekend right here in this bed." He reasons. You chew your lip,

"How 'bout Switzerland. It's gorgeous there right now. We can fuck with the windows open, listening to the waterfalls." You try to negotiate. His smirks sinisterly down at you,

"You are so fucking spoiled." He growls, dragging your shirt up to kiss your stomach. You squeal as he leaves wet kisses along your skin,

"You didn't say no though. Can't resist me can you?" You chide. He growls, nipping at the skin of your belly button,

"Yes… we can go to Switzerland. And the Netherlands, and Paris, wherever you want." He confirms. You slide your fingers through his hair as he kisses your lips softly,

"Regardless of how much money you give me… nothing is more important to me than your love and these moments." You tell him. He smiles down at you,

"I know… me too. But… I like having you at my beck and call." He responds. Kissing him again, you roll him onto his back,

"I'll get the most gorgeous red bottoms for you baby." You tell him, caressing his cheek. He chuckles, watching as you start to leave the room, hips swaying again,

"I like the strappy heels too." He murmurs. You giggle, turning to look at him,

"Don't worry… you'll get a decent surprise." You promise. The smile that he carries never leaves his face as he resumes what he was doing.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #my writing #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x oc #richkid!tom #rich kid!tom #tom holland blurb #tom holland blurbs

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witchlyboo · 3 years

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

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