#pete dunham fic

[laurfilijames]

Like My Dreams

Part 5

Intro Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 9.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Unprotected intercourse. Sex in a public place. Blood, cuts and bruises. Dressing of wounds. Cockwarming. Mention of stab wound and life-threatening injuries. Assault. Threat of rape.

Summary: Right when you and Pete seal the deal on your relationship, more car trouble and a visit from an ex stirs up drama and pops the blissful bubble you waited so long for.

A/N: 😅 this chapter really got away from me but I had the best time writing it!! I had an idea for part of it and pitched it to the wonderfully supportive @ramadiiiisme who encouraged me to go for it and helped me pull it off, so big thanks to you a million times more 💗 The scene with Mrs. Platt was inspired by a conversation with @stealfromthedevil about her dear grandmother who's cheeky words are included in the dialogue 💗💗

The linked song is one I've been listening to non-stop while writing this chapter and is just so lovely and fits in with all the fluffy bits of not only this chapter, but this series as a whole.

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It had been a couple of hours since Pete had gone home to shower and clean up after the friendly game with the lads, now sitting in his favourite seat at their table watching the Hammers struggle to get a lead against Chelsea, the match currently tied at 1-1. He would normally care a bit more about it, but knowing you were on your way to meet him there had taken all his focus and energy, feeling more excited to see you than bothered that his team might end the game in a draw, or worse.

He slouched against the old chair with his arm over the back, taking a long sip of his beer before setting it back down and licking his lips.

“Oh, come on! Fucking unbelievable!” he muttered at the screen, the referee pulling an outrageous call against West Ham.

Whatever happened next in the game no longer mattered to him all that much, seeing you walk in the door and through the crowd of people standing between you, his smile growing as he watched you tug your scarf out from around your neck and head over to the bar where you stopped to say hello to Terry and order a drink.

Pete stood and walked over slowly, admiring you from across the room as you chatted with Terry for a moment, your smile making his heart nearly stop when you turned and directed it at him as he reached you.

He said nothing, his grin too large to control any words to come through it, instead opting for a greeting he had been waiting all night to give.

Grabbing your cheeks, he leaned in and kissed you, inhaling with a low moan as he felt you melt into him and release your breath, your hands landing limply on his biceps.

A few people cheered around you, making both of you smile again after you parted from each other, but the need to get you alone was quickly becoming a priority in the realization of how many people were preventing him from doing all the things he wanted to do right then and there.

“Hi, love,” he said warmly, the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes making desire stir inside you.

“Hi,” you sighed with a love-drunk smile, the single word a breathy whisper.

Pete bit his lip as he reached for both of your drinks off the bar, nodding in the direction of their table in the corner.

“Come on, gorgeous, we’re over here.”

You were greeted warmly as usual, the spirits of everyone high after the Hammers scored a goal, and with all members of the GSE and their respective partners present to watch the match, little room was available at the booth.

Ned and Ike shifted over to make a spot for you beside Clair and Dave, leaving a space that was too large for your liking between you and where Pete sat in his designated chair, his hands folded together with his elbows resting on the arms of it as he looked fondly at you mixed in with his favourite people.

As much as you loved being at The Abbey enjoying conversations that made your cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing so much, the company that Pete kept people you now couldn’t imagine your life without, it was difficult for you to focus tonight, your mind constantly wandering to how the night was going to turn out just as much as your eyes continued to find Pete’s automatically.

It was like he knew everything you were thinking, his blue eyes glowing with a telling want and his looks loaded with insinuation, every swipe of his tongue over his lips or the way he rolled the toothpick that hung out of his mouth teasing you and driving you mad.

You squirmed in your seat, your fingers toying with the soggy coaster that had been spilled on too many times, forcing yourself to peel your eyes away from him whenever you felt the heat inside you becoming too much, only to steal another glance a moment later, finding him still looking at you hungrily.

The game was coming to an end, and with the Hammers still holding onto their lead, Pete was more than happy to miss the rest of it in exchange for seeing something he had wanted to all day, and as you slowly trailed your hand down your neck to your chest before reaching for the drink you had nursed most of the night, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

Waiting for you to glance over at him again, he watched you intently, imagining your bare form beneath him, pressing his lips against every single inch of you.

Finally, you met his gaze, a sultry look weighing in your eyes, and with a subtle nod toward the door, Pete silently told you it was time to go.

You smiled almost sheepishly, your face seeming to glow in a mix of embarrassment and excitement as you rushed through your goodbyes, your friends all shouting teasing jeers at you in knowing the reason behind your early exit.

Pete winked at you as he shrugged into his tan trench coat, adjusting the collar and tugging it up at the back so it covered his neck, flicking the toothpick he still had in his mouth onto the table.

He took your hand and lead you through the pub with a pride that didn’t go unnoticed by those you passed, finding yourself bashful in thinking that everyone knew what was about to happen based on the look on your face, having to bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning and cast your eyes down at the worn carpet as you made your way out.

The door hadn’t even shut behind you before Pete had you up against the brick wall, his hands holding your waist with a claiming grip as he leaned into you and kissed you breathless, his want for you inarguable.

“Let’s go home,” he said with surety, his smile lighting up his eyes when he stepped away from you, pulling you with him with his hand clasped around yours again confidently.

The walk to Pete’s wasn’t long, but was made longer tonight by how often the two of you stopped to kiss, unable to keep off of each other for the duration it took to land at his door.

There was thankfully no sign of Mrs. Platt hanging around to make comments, the time it took for Pete to fish out his keys and unlock the deadbolt incredibly delayed due to interrupting the process in favour of kissing, your bodies now pressing together more closely and your hands becoming bolder where they roamed.

Pete finally opened the door and walked through it, and after tossing his keys onto the table, turned to grin at you and take your hand, pulling you inside with him.

“Get in here,” he said through his smirk, the playful tone of his voice undisguisable despite how much lust showed in his eyes.

He brought you in against him, his lips teasing yours as he whispered, “I need you.”

You smoothed your hands up the back of his neck as you kissed him, melting when he moaned into your mouth as the sensation of your fingers raking through his hair made him desperate for more, the intensity of the kiss increasing quickly.

Within moments you stood naked in his room, holding each other close while playful kisses were shared and hands began their worship, the excitement and anticipation that had slowly built up to this moment stirring within you.

It was clear that Pete felt the same, his smile unable to be wiped from his face each time you parted to look at each other, and as he moved closer to the bed with you, he tucked his bottom lip in his teeth to try to restrict it.

You sat on the mattress, leaning back on your elbows where he followed closely, crawling over you as you fully laid down in his bedding that lingered with the scents of him and you. His smile turned into a sweet chuckle as you giggled too, having him settle between your legs and laying on top of you making you feel unbelievably elated, the sensation of his readied cock resting against your core solidifying the fact that you couldn’t possibly wait another night.

His expression turned serious for a moment as he peered down at you, a soft groan coming out of his mouth as his cock rubbed against you when he shifted slightly.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asked, his voice somewhat shaky with restraint.

You nodded, and spoke with as much certainty as you could have in a moment where you felt on the border of being totally consumed by lust and longing, “Fuck me, Pete.”

He didn’t hesitate, pushing into you with a confident drive of his hips, your head tilting back as you cried out, the stretch of him filling you bare without a doubt the best thing you had ever felt.

Together, you quickly found a pace that suited you both, his thrusts slow and rolling but purposeful, his kisses growing more desperate on the skin of your neck and chest as each minute ticked on.

It took hardly any time at all for your climax to fire up within you, the anticipation of sex with Pete having let the intensity of it lay in dormancy right under the surface only to bring it forth faster than ever, his body linked with yours igniting and awakening every part of you.

You clawed at his back in a signal of your oncoming pleasure as well as a silent plea for more, half of you wanting to experience it immediately while the other half begged to prolong it all.

Clenching around his cock, you couldn’t ward it off any longer, moaning into his mouth as he continued to slam into you in a tempo that sent you to the edge but you could tell was beginning to falter as his climax took him in its clutches.

Your orgasm came through you hard and fast, shattering every inch of you as he followed right along with you, feeling him pulse and swell inside your walls, soaking him at the same time he filled you.

Pete kissed you almost frantically as he slowed his movements in you, savouring every second of being inside you while seemingly starving for more, your whines quieting out in his mouth as his breathing worked to calm to normal.

Emotion overcame him at the thought of never being able to experience this with you, the reality of him almost dying without ever having kissed you or touched you or loved you made his eyes burn, and closing them tight as he parted from your lips, he held your face in his hand and brought his forehead to rest against yours, his thumb moving to pull down your lower lip as you shared more laboured breaths.

You made love again and again through the night, resting between rounds only long enough to recharge, the addiction you had to each other increasing each time.

It was well after three in the morning when you had finally fallen asleep, exhaustion eventually taking over the nagging need for more, the cold comfort of the open window and your bodies wrapped together truly feeling like heaven.

The sound of rain and Pete stirring against you woke you up, making you scoot back against him to get closer to him, his arm that was wrapped around your waist tightening its hold and pulling you in.

He hummed in your hair, his body beginning to wake before his mind fully did, feeling him harden against your bum while his lips lazily kissed down the back of your neck.

A long moan sounded from you as you indulged in the blissful sensation, wriggling against him until his cock was firmly pressed between your cheeks, beginning to rock your hips languidly back and forth until his sleepy kisses turned to warning nips.

“Babe…” his sleepy voice purred in your ear, his lips pulling your lobe between them before his tongue swept along its shell.

“Pete…I need you.” His name fell from your lips in a whimper as your hand took hold of his and guided it between your legs, his fingertips gently stroking your clit until he had you begging for more.

Pete sat up and guided you onto all fours, positioning himself behind you where he gripped your cheeks with his hands to part them while he stroked your folds with the head of his cock.

Despite feeling how wet you were, he was aware how you would likely be sore from the amount of times he’d fucked you already, reaching over for the bottle of lube on the nightstand where he squeezed some out and coated his length until he hissed from the sensation of his own hand and slowly guided himself inside your tight walls.

He watched your hands grip the sheets as he filled you, your fingers relaxing slightly as he pulled back out, only to grip them harder and cry out when he pushed in again.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he muttered, keeping a slow tempo even though he was tempted to quicken it and destroy you.

He heard your soft hum of appreciation for his praise over the pouring rain, everything you did adding up to drive him insane and make him fall more in love with you, suddenly feeling as if being buried inside you wasn’t enough to appease his heart.

Pete wrapped his arm around you so his hand splayed out over your stomach, applying pressure to guide you to sit up and onto his lap, careful to keep himself locked in your cunt.

Spreading the remaining lube onto your clit with his fingers, Pete began to steadily work you, his other hand holding you up while also squeezing and massaging your breasts, his mouth worshiping the space between your shoulder and ear in an intoxicating way that had your head lulling back onto his shoulder.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin as a brisk gust blew in through the window, adding to the over-stimulation that assaulted every part of you, doing your best to focus on the fullness of Pete driving inside you as you rocked yourself on his lap.

You reached your arm up and around his head, stroking his hair and gripping at him as you rode him, feeling yourself beginning to lose all control but placing all your trust in him to take care of you just how you needed.

Still holding you firmly against him, he continued to strum between your legs, knowing how close he was getting you from how you subtly tried to escape his grasp and your body convulsed to his touch, feeling your hands tighten on his head and forearm that was wrapped around you to keep you in place.

“That’s it. Come for me,” he panted in your ear, feeling you angle your hips against his hand in order to gain more friction on your clit, chasing your end as he increased the power behind his hammering thrusts.

Quiet whimpers grew at a steady pace as they spilled from your mouth, your whines of pleasure drowned out in your own ears as you focused on the sound of Pete’s heavy breathing and the praises he was showering you with, the pouring rain tapping furiously against the glass panes.

You unraveled together, the way your body tightly coiled before turning limp milking out his climax at the same time, his breath fanning out over your dewy skin as he rested his parted lips on your shoulder and stilled inside you.

Lifting yourself off his lap, you sank onto the mattress on your stomach, closing your eyes as exhaustion completely took over you, a faint smile tugging at your lips when you felt Pete follow, kissing up along your back until he collapsed half on top of you.

He took hold of your hand and brought it to rest between your bodies, kissing your knuckles softly until his breathing began to turn shallow as sleep quickly dragged him into its grasp.

These were the moments you knew you couldn’t live without, willing to sacrifice sleep night after night in order to love and be loved like this, the gratitude that filled you at being the one laying beside him as he slept outweighing any desire to close your eyes and miss even a second of it.

You knocked twice on the door before opening it anyway, letting yourself in just as Pete had told you to whenever you came over, the urgency you felt to get inside and out of the hallway too much to handle even if you weren’t allowed to walk in as you pleased.

Pete gave you an amused look, one of his eyebrows hooking high on his forehead as he placed the pen he had been holding in his mouth and reached for another paper to grade off the coffee table, your laughter sparking his curiosity.

“What?” he asked, letting out his own chuckle at your flustered state as you leaned against the door and ran your hand over your head.

“I was just stopped by Mrs. Platt. She told me she can hear us and to keep it down!”

Pete burst out laughing, shifting on the settee so his arm rested on the back of it to face you more.

“It’s not funny!” you argued, even though you were still laughing yourself, shaking your head in disbelief at the conversation you had just had with the crotchety woman in her eighties.

“Oh, it is!”

“Pete!” you urged, as if saying his name would scold him into not making fun of the situation, walking through to the living area where you plopped your bag down on one of the chairs as you passed.

“She actually said, ‘It’s not my place, but do you two ever sleep? All I hear night after night is that bed banging against the flaming wall!’”

Pete only laughed harder, hanging his head back over the sofa where you stood behind it and leaned down to grab hold of his face, begging him to stop laughing before kissing him in order to try to shut him up when he didn’t.

He was still chuckling when you pulled away from him, prompting you to smack his chest as you cursed at him.

“I can’t keep being stopped in the hallway to listen to this poor old woman make comments about hearing us have sex!”

“Ah, she’s just winding you up!”

You turned to walk into the kitchen only to be stopped by Pete’s arm wrapping around your waist to pull you back to the couch that he leaned over the back of, looking at you with mischief in his eyes that made you melt and suddenly not worry about anyone hearing the things you did together.

“Come on, love,” he purred. “She ain’t heard nothing yet.”

“Is that a promise, or a threat?” you asked, smirking as you freed yourself from his grip and made it into the kitchen, filling up the kettle.

“Both!” he replied, sitting back down on the sofa where he resumed marking his student’s homework.

“I need to take my car back to the mechanic,” you explained, shifting the conversation to something ordinary after a couple minutes of comfortable silence while placing a tea bag into your respective mugs.

“Yeah?” Pete asked somewhat distractedly as he focused on his task.

“Yeah, it's been making a funny noise whenever I accelerate, and it sort of jolts when I shift gear. Hopefully it’s nothing major or expensive, they were meant to be the best mechanic…”

“When are you taking it in?”

“Tomorrow morning. My sister’s going to meet me there and take me to work after.”

“I can do it if you want,” he offered, glancing over at you.

“Nah you’re off the hook,” you smiled, “she’s got some holiday time so I’m off duty being Jack’s chauffeur for a week!”

“Ah, look at you!”

“I know, right? She’s even taking him to practice this week.”

“That means I won’t get to see you there then, nothing good to look at on the sidelines and distract me,” he pouted, making you roll your eyes before pouring the hot water into your mugs.

“I reckon you’ll live.”

“Ah, then Mrs. Platt will just get to hear an even better show than normal when I get back home to you,” Pete laughed, ducking when you threw the tea towel at him.

The drive to Millwall took longer than normal due to rush-hour traffic, but it didn’t bother you as much as it typically would knowing you had a late start to your day that had been approved by your boss.

You pulled into the open bay door of the garage, parking your car and stepping out, giving a friendly smile to the mechanic who had helped you before.

“Giving you some grief, then eh?” he asked through a grin, nodding to your car as he wiped his hands on a rag.

“Yeah, as I said on the phone it’s kind of clunking when I’m shifting and the sound it makes when I accelerate worries me a bit…”

“We’ll put ‘er right, not to worry!” he beamed at you, extending his oil-stained hand to take your keys that you held out for him.

He stared at you for a moment, making you avert your gaze slightly, feeling somewhat uneasy.

“Say, you don’t happen to know the Dunham’s do you?” he asked, his question making your head whip up again in surprise. “Steve and Pete? They’re brothers.”

You tilted your head, your curiosity somewhat guarded, “I do, as it happens…”

The way his smile changed and the shift in his eyes put you on edge and raised your suspicions, but you did your best to remain confident, interested as to why he was asking and how he knew who they were.

“I thought as much,” he nodded.

His response took you back, and you blinked quickly, trying to wrap your head around this whole inquiry.

“Sorry, how exactly do you know them?”

He hesitated, staring you down for a few seconds before answering, almost as if he was being careful to formulate a proper response or like he was unsure how much to tell you.

“...We’re old mates,” he said slowly, his smile not leaving his thin lips.

You nodded, glancing down at the embroidered name tag on the chest of his overalls, the name ‘Martin’ one you wouldn’t forget.

“Right,” he broke the silence, his tone more cheerful in disrupting the somewhat tense air. “We’ll have a look at it and likely get it back to you at the start of next week…give ya a ring when we know what it needs and what the damage is.”

“Ta,” you thanked him, giving him one last look before turning and walking out of the garage, heading to your sister’s car where she was parked on the road out front.

You pulled the handle on the door and sat down into the passenger seat, looking out the window into the shop where Martin stood with another man of equal stature, both of them glancing out in your direction.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hm? Nothing, it’s fine,” you assured her, smiling at her as you put your seatbelt on. “Can we stop for a coffee on the way?”

It was a typical Thursday night at The Abbey, everyone gathering at the table one by one as they flowed in from work, a pint and some laughs with mates seeming to be of the same priority for each hardworking hooligan alike as the week started to take its toll and winded down to an end.

“Where’s Pete?” Ike asked, sitting down beside you with his fresh pint.

“Oh, he’s coaching tonight,” you explained, spinning what was left of your gin and tonic in its glass. “He should be here in an hour or so.”

Ike nodded in confirmation as he took a long sip of his beer, both of you drawing your attention to the Bjorno’s as they walked in with a cheerful greeting.

Dave planted a kiss on Clair’s lips as he stopped at the bar to get the drinks in, letting her continue on to the table where she sat down with a sigh.

“Long shift?” you asked, catching the weary look that she couldn’t easily hide.

She glanced at you exasperatedly, “Oh, don’t even get me started!”

“Here you go, my love,” Dave said while leaning down to place her drink in front of her, kissing the top of her head as he did.

You found it difficult to focus on the conversations happening around you, your attention glued to the small group of women standing at the far side of the bar, the looks they kept shooting your way making you feel uneasy.

“Hey, do you know who they are?” you asked Clair, subtly nodding in their direction as they leaned in over the bar to get closer to Vicky, the barmaid, before all staring back at you again.

“Those tarts?” Clair began. “Yeah, they’re mates of Vicky’s. Bunch of slags.”

You nodded, taking it in but still not having an answer as to why they seemed so interested in you, thinking of all the times you had nice enough conversations with Vicky, or so you thought.

“Pete used to have it off with the blonde one,” Bovver piped up, blowing the smoke from his freshly lit cigarette in your direction as he spoke.

Your eyebrows raised high on your forehead as you took in the information, finally having some clarity as to why these women you had never seen before were obviously unhappy with your presence.

“Fucked like crazy for a few months…” he continued, the iciness of his blue eyes holding something of a threat as he told you.

“Oi! Don’t be like that,” Dave scolded him, shoving his arm. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“It’s true!” Bov scowled, his loyalty to his relations with Vicky clearly extending to her friends over you.

You sighed, trying not to let it bother you, reminding yourself that everyone, including you, had a past, and hoped that whatever issue she had with you would pass soon.

“Right, I need another,” you stated, shaking your empty glass in your hand as you stood.

Just as you anticipated, the daggers coming from across the bar dug into your back, still doing your best to ignore them while waiting for Terry to fix your drink, but that became impossible when the blonde who was apparently an ex of Pete’s slunk over to you and stood far closer to you than you would’ve liked.

“I didn’t think it was true, but here you are,” she began, her accent sloppy from the drinks she had tossed back already, her breath smelling of stale fags and the tartness of the cranberry juice she mixed with her vodka.

“What’s true?” you asked, giving her no more than a sideways glance as you fished the change from your pocket to pay for your drink.

“That Pete is dating a plain, old slag.”

“I’m sorry, and who might you be?”

“I was you only a few months back,” she grinned, her smile vicious and proud in her admission that she had been Pete’s at one time.

You huffed as you smiled, taking your drink from Terry who eyed you up as if offering his help, turning to go back to the table. The thought of him being with someone as vile as her made your stomach lurch, and not wanting to give it any further attention, you ignored her.

“I’m not done talking to you, you soppy cow!” she shouted, her lack of couth on full display to everyone around as a hush fell over the pub.

When you continued on your way over to the group, all of them watching with bated breath to see what would happen next, the satisfaction on Bovver’s face boiling your blood more than she was, her shrill voice sounded out again, making you pause.

“He said I was the best he’s ever had, and I’ll be right here to remind him of that.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the adrenaline making you feel shaky and on the verge of doing something stupid, but instead you neglected to give her the drama she sought and took your seat again, praying that Pete would get there soon.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Dave assured, leaning over Clair who had already offered to fight her twice. “It wasn’t that serious…”

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” you assured, hoping it sounded genuine or at least believable.

“I mean, they were at it together for a few months…” Keith added in, earning a scolding from both Dave and Swill, making you swallow thickly.

You took a long sip of your drink as you tried to tune out the sound of the lads bickering and the jeers still coming in your direction from across the bar, your eyes closing as you tried to slow your breathing.

After a couple more minutes, you stood and made your way through the bar to the loo, praying no one would follow you, your newfound enemies calling you names as you passed.

Pete finally made it to the pub, strutting through the crowd and desperate for a beer after a long day at work and then coaching out in the cold rain, the sight of his ex leaning what she thought was invitingly against the bar making him scowl as he passed.

When there was no sight of you at the table, he did a quick glance around, distractingly returning everyone’s greetings as he shrugged out of his jacket and sat.

“Oi, what’s she doing here?” he asked Dave, nodding over in the direction of the bar where they continued to stare over at him.

Dave shook his head, “They’ve been causing trouble, pal.”

Seeing Pete’s face fall into worry as he looked around for you again, Dave continued. “She’s in the toilets, she seemed a bit upset…”

“For fuck’s sake,” Pete muttered, standing and going through the pub in quick strides, not giving his ex even a glimpse as he passed.

He pushed open the door to the ladies room more aggressively than he intended, his anger at the situation and that cheap tart upsetting you getting to him, his anger quickly turning to surprise when he saw you standing in front of the tarnished mirror reapplying your lip gloss, appearing fine and unbothered.

“Can I help you?” you grinned, watching him in the mirror with unhidden amusement at his presence.

His head tilted a bit to the side, walking toward you slowly while still assessing you, his concern still creasing his features even though he was smiling back at you.

“They said you were upset…”

You laughed and shook your head, screwing the cap back on your lip gloss before sticking it in your pocket, turning to look at him directly instead of in the mirror, your bum sitting on the edge of the sink.

“Upset? Over those twats? Come on…” you shrugged, trying your best to play it cool even though it had bothered you more than you were letting on.

Pete closed the space between you and leaned his forehead against yours, still searching your eyes for any hints of you being hurt or shaken up.

You let your eyelids close, instantly feeling relaxed from him being close to you, breathing in deeply when he brought his hands up to hold your face.

“We all have a past, Pete,” you whispered, saying it more for your own conviction than his, the frustrated exhale he let out at his past involving that awful slag fanning over your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his lips moving against yours as they hovered there, teasing a kiss.

“Don’t be sorry,” you answered, your hands trailing up his chest where you took hold of the collar of his jumper and slid the material through your fingers, his body moving closer to yours. “Just kiss me, Pete.”

He did, crashing into you so hard your head was forced back but stopped by his hands still gripping your face, his tongue delving into your mouth hungrily and greedily where you didn’t hesitate to match his fervor.

Everything was rough and desperate, kissing with a need to prove that each other’s lips were the only ones ever worth kissing, your hands pawing and groping in a crazed act of passion.

Pete’s fingers tore at the button and zipper of your jeans before diving his hand inside them, his long fingers stroking through your folds until your wet coated them, your moans reverberating in his mouth as you continued to kiss, your lips moving against each other sloppily and hastily.

After a minute, he withdrew from you, roughly tugging your jeans and panties down your thighs, his steely eyes staring at your exposed cunt as he quickly unfastened his own jeans and pulled out his hard cock before crashing against you again.

You spread your legs as wide as you were able to, giving him enough access to your core where he guided his leaking head, smearing his precum on your clit a few times until you were moaning and begging him to fill you.

Pete happily obliged, pushing inside your tight walls where he paused once he couldn’t go any deeper, kissing you frantically and groaning into your mouth from how good you felt.

Like he lost all sense of control, he slammed in and out of you, fucking you hard and fast while his mouth hung open and panted against yours in his efforts, the sink creaking precariously as you rocked your hips in time with his brutal thrusts, your fingers digging into the back of his neck and shoulders as you held on tight.

You were both so entranced in each other that neither of you noticed the door opening, his ex standing in the doorway in shock of the scene she walked into, scoffing as she turned and left.

“Fuck, babe,” he growled, pulling his face away from yours slightly where he watched his cock slide in and out of you, the sight encouraging him to move even more furiously within you, your cries growing louder as your climax quickly built up.

“Pete!” you bellowed, a desperation in your voice that told him you were on the brink, and knowing you were at risk of screaming as you came, he covered your mouth with his and proceeded to pound you mercilessly, swallowing your noises of unbridled pleasure as you clenched and shuddered on his cock.

Only seconds behind you, Pete bucked into your soaked cunt until he pumped you full of his hot spend, feeling it leak out of you as he continued to slowly thrust, drawing out every moment of your highs that he could.

You laughed as you comprehended what just happened, smoothing your hand over your head as your chest rose and fell sharply, Pete chuckling as a mischievous and prideful look dressed his flushed features.

“It’s impossible to get enough of you,” he admitted, his eyes flickering over your face as he leaned his arms against the sink, caging you in.

You hummed appreciatively, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, kissing him long and slow and in a way you hoped conveyed everything you felt for him.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked when your kiss slowed to a pause, the blue of his eyes more vibrant and full of emotion.

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling at him softly while your finger traced the crease beside his mouth.

“Okay, darling,” he cooed, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he inhaled deeply, his face moving into the side of your neck where he pressed kisses into the sensitive skin and made you squirm and giggle.

Stopping, he brought his face back up to look at you, his expression serious again, his hand finding yours where he laced your fingers together and gave it three gentle squeezes.

“You know you’re the only one I want, yeah?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand back three times, smiling bigger as his own grew.

“I do, though I wouldn’t mind you showing me again…”

“Careful what you wish for!” he laughed burying his face into your neck again where he nipped and sucked at your skin, your laughter echoing against the tiled walls.

Pete walked out of the bathroom with you confidently after cleaning up and composing yourselves, even happier to see that his ex and the rest of Vicky’s horrible friends had left, the expressions on everyone’s faces as you sat back down at the table telling you they knew exactly what you had been up to.

“Oi, that colour suits you, mate,” Ned commented, pointing to his lips as he stared at Pete’s that were tinted from your lip gloss.

“Yeah? It’d suit yours too,” Pete said, leaning over and planting a kiss on Ned’s cheek quickly before he pushed him away, cursing and wiping his cheek dramatically.

Pete laughed as he took his seat, downing his pint that had been waiting for him to return to, leaning back in his chair where he pulled you onto his lap to have you proudly perch, the atmosphere more relaxed and as it normally was.

Red dripped into the sink one drop at a time, flowing steadily from so many places on his hands and face he wasn’t even sure where it was all coming from.

Pete tugged more tissues out of the box, bunching them up and holding them to what he thought was the deepest cut on his chin with as much pressure as he could, the ache in his hand preventing him from doing a sufficient job. He didn’t think he’d cracked on that Zulu cunt as hard as he did, but his knuckles proved otherwise, split open what felt like to the bone.

Any effects the pints in his bloodstream had provided him had definitely worn off now, his head pounding and every cut on him stinging and burning like mad, the severity of each fresh injury hard to determine as he looked at himself in the mirror through one good eye, the dark, puffy welt spreading up to his other from his cheek.

He stood with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his blood and sweat-stained clothes discarded in a heap on the floor, his reflection revealing bruises on his side and abdomen that refused to be ignored when he had lifted his jumper over his head.

It was late, and as quiet as he tried to be, Pete knew better than to think you wouldn’t have heard him come home, your inability to stay asleep for long without him something he secretly loved and made him swell, always feeling equally as eager to get back home and in bed with you.

“Hiya, love,” he muttered, smirking at you in the mirror when you appeared in the doorway, your sleepy face quickly changing to shock when you saw the state of him.

“I’m fine!” he stressed, knowing what your next words were going to be, the worry on your face breaking his heart a little.

“Pete…” you whispered, not in an accusatory or scolding way, but out of sheer love and care, your hands cupping his cheeks gently despite getting blood on them, your eyes searching his for truth in his claim of being okay.

“Fucking Zulu’s…” he trailed off, a small laugh blowing out of his lungs.

Never once had you asked him to stop fighting, and he knew you wouldn’t now, taking the aftermath of his hobby on the chin just like he did multiple times tonight, his love and appreciation for you making him feel a bit emotional as he watched you open the cupboard and get out the first aid kit to tend to his wounds.

He blinked back the moisture that had quickly accumulated in his eyes before you were facing him again, closing them when you pressed a careful kiss to his bloody lips, letting out a long sigh when you pulled away.

“Sit so I can see better,” you instructed, your voice soft and soothing to his ears.

Pete turned and stepped toward the tub, perching on the edge of it so he faced the sink for you to work, watching the deep red spots staining it dilute into a rusty colour as water ran from the tap and washed his blood off the porcelain.

Carefully, and for as long as it would take, you gently cleaned all of his wounds, wiping the blood that had dried and stuck in his blond stubble and dabbing the cuts that still oozed, your touch becoming lighter whenever you noticed a wince that involuntarily snuck past his attempts to hide them.

Luckily, nothing needed stitches, and even though Pete knew you were done cleaning and disinfecting each cut he’d sustained, you continued to linger, admiring his bruised and battered features.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled you close to him, letting his face lean into your stomach, breathing deeply as you raked your fingers up his bare back and through his hair. His shoulders relaxed, letting go of the tension held in them from taking the painful sting of peroxide seeping into his cuts over and over, his hands smoothing up your bare thighs and your bum.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” you whispered, your lips pressing against his scalp.

He hummed, pulling his face away from the warmth of your body in his sweater.

“Yeah. C’mere,” he offered, shifting slightly so your legs had room to straddle him.

You seated yourself on his lap, smiling when his own broke out on his damaged face, your back arching into him when he placed his hands under his sweater that you had now worn more times than him to card up your back.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, admiring you for a moment before kissing you softly, his nose moving back and forth on yours a couple of times before nudging your cheek, resting his face against it while he closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

“You’re welcome, love,” you cooed, your fingers ghosting over the back of his neck, making him melt into you even more.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he spoke, mostly to himself, still finding it hard to believe that he had been lucky enough to survive his injuries and then have you walk into his classroom that one morning.

Pete kissed your cheek once, then again, each press to your soft skin urging him to add another and then more after that, eventually meeting your lips with his until minutes had passed with you lost in the haze created by your slow kisses.

His hands held your back firmly, keeping you close to him and preventing you from falling back as he moved his head away from yours and looked at you in a way that made you want to show him that the love you had for him existed like no other.

“I love you,” he professed, as if he had stolen the words right out of your mouth. Those three words were spoken with a calm surety that held such truth there was no way you could deny or question it, your fingers trembling against his cheek as you trailed them along the crease that flanked his lips.

“I love you, too, Pete.”

The taste of blood transferred onto your tongue again as he crashed into you, kissing you with more ardor than ever before, the relevancy of the cuts on his lips no longer a concern to either of you.

Your hands slipped around the back of his neck, pulling him into you even more to deepen your kiss, your hips rolling against his just enough that you could feel his cock hardening, your bare core grinding on the somewhat rough material of the towel separating you.

Pete moaned into your mouth, and without stopping kissing you, leaned back enough to unwrap the fold of the towel from his waist, letting it fall open under him.

His hands slid under your thighs, guiding you to lift your hips in order to get on top of his cock, breaking your kiss to watch your face as you sank down on his length.

Before you even had the chance to start riding him, Pete ran his battered hands over your hair, his eyes holding as much softness as his voice did.

“Just be still for me, yeah?” he asked, wanting to savour the intimacy of being inside you unmoving.

You nodded, drawing in a deep, shaky breath, closing your eyes as his nose brushed against yours before capturing your lips again, your hand resting on his chest where you could feel his heart beating wildly.

You would have been kidding yourself if you said you weren’t feeling a bit uneasy about going to pick up your car alone, the conversation you had had with the mechanic, Martin, when you dropped it off still fresh in your mind.

Pete was unable to take you, having to coach a practice after work, and your sister was taking Jack to it and staying to watch since she always missed so many, leaving you to take the tube over to Millwall to deal with it on your own.

You assured yourself over and over that it would be fine and that you were probably reading into things too much, but still the way he had mentioned knowing Steve and Pete and claiming to be old mates with them wasn’t sitting right with you. With work being so busy this week, you had completely forgotten to mention it to Pete, and you cursed yourself for failing to bring it up when you had checked with him again that morning if he was sure he couldn’t get someone else to coach for him.

As the stops to Millwall grew closer and closer, you did your best not to dwell, reading the book you brought with you while your leg bounced up and down unconsciously, your eyes scanning over the same paragraph again and again without being able to absorb the words.

“Alright, good job, lads!” Pete shouted after blowing his whistle, signaling the end of their practice.

He held the bag open for them to toss their soiled jerseys in, laughing at all their comments to each other and how supportive they all were of their teammates.

“Eh, Jack, will you help me gather up the pylons?” he asked when your nephew had made it over to him in the queue of rowdy boys.

As Pete knew he would, Jack happily jogged around the pitch and collected the majority of them, saving Pete and his leg the trouble of going to do it all himself.

“Cheers, mate,” Pete thanked him, ruffling his hair as he walked with him over to where his mum stood waiting.

“Great practice, love!” She praised her son, then smiled at Pete as Jack worked at untying his cleats and taking off his shin guards. “Reckon she’ll be back from Millwall soon, then?” she said, glancing at the watch on her wrist.

“Millwall?” Pete asked, his face screwed up at the mention of his rivaled district.

“Yeah, that’s where the mechanic is she took her car to.”

“What’s the garage called?” he questioned, an urgency present in his voice as he reached in the pocket of his jacket for his phone.

“I don’t know, I didn’t look when I had dropped her off and she never mentioned it…is everything okay?”

“Hmm, yeah,” Pete lied, trying to settle the rising panic he felt inside him at the thought of the garage you took your car to for repairs being Tommy fucking Hatcher’s.

He hit the button to dial your number and held it up to his ear, pacing as he listened to ring after ring before the sound of your voice came through, his heart falling when it was only your voicemail picking up.

“Fuck-” he hissed, hanging up before redialling, praying you would pick up and tell him you weren’t alone at Tommy’s garage.

The bell that chimed when the door opened sounded ominous tonight as you stepped through it, the smell of oil and exhaust fumes hitting your nose heavily, the distant sound of the radio and tools clanking against metal filling the otherwise quiet shop.

Your car was parked out front, seemingly ready to drive off in, and you hoped to settle the bill and get your keys quickly so you could make your way back to see Pete, wanting this day and especially this exchange to be over and done with.

Glancing through the window that looked into the garage from where the little waiting area was, you could see Martin bent over the bonnet of a car, and behind him, a small office where who you assumed was the owner sat at his desk.

When neither man noticed your presence, you stepped through into the bay, careful your heels didn’t slip on the greasy floor.

The man in his office finally caught sight of you, grinning with a somewhat villainous smile that split his hardened features, and you thought no matter how friendly he tried to appear, there was something about him that seemed impossible to soften.

“Hello, love,” he greeted, his voice matching his looks.

“Hi, sorry,” you stammered, “I’m just here to get my car.” You hooked your thumb and pointed over your shoulder in the direction of where it sat outside, planting your feet firmly on the cement floor while doing your best to stand tall and confident.

“Yeah, not a problem, I’ve got the paperwork all here for ya,” he explained, standing from his chair and turning to reach for some papers from the filing cabinet behind him.

Martin nodded as you walked past him to enter the office, giving you a curt ‘Evening,’ as you smiled weakly in return.

The man seemed to fill the entire space of his office, his form tall and broad, his personality giving off a powerful air that made you feel somewhat suffocated.

There were empty beer bottles on his desk, and scattered across the walls and cabinets that took up nearly every square inch of the small room were various pieces of Millwall F.C. paraphernalia.

“You a fan?” he asked, catching you looking at the poster of the crest hung on the wall beside him.

“Erm, no, I don’t really pay attention to football all that much,” you lied, the realization that this man was clearly a huge supporter of the club that was Pete’s sworn enemy making you want to avoid the topic altogether.

“No?” he questioned, his head tilting to the side as another vicious smile revealed his teeth. “Not even a fan of the mighty Hammers?”

The way he said it made your blood turn cold, and you swallowed thickly, thinking how Martin must have discussed your affiliation to West Ham United through knowing Pete and Steve, and you wondered if these men were members of Millwall’s infamous firm.

You shook your head and huffed out a false laugh, reaching into your purse for your wallet.

“No,” you repeated, hoping he didn’t press his inquiry any further.

Clearing your throat to ensure your words came out properly, you started filing through the stack of notes you had taken out of the bank that morning, counting out what you had been told the total was going to be for the repairs.

“It was £450, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right,” he confirmed, watching as you placed the money on his desk, folding his arms across his chest.

“You sure you aren’t running about and singing along to ‘Forever Blowing fucking Bubbles’ then?”

You scoffed, trying your best to look like you hadn’t heard or even sang that song more times than you could count since meeting Pete.

“Ah, I see,” he said, slowly. “So you’re going to lie right to my face and tell me you’re not Pete Dunham’s missus, are ya?”

You almost choked, words unable to form on your tongue that felt too big for your mouth, the air in your lungs feeling trapped while everything around you started to distort as a dizziness overcame you.

“How…how do you know that?”

He pointed his finger at you, his lips still curled into a smile. “See, I knew you were lying to me, you little slag.”

You stepped back as he walked around his desk, his blue eyes icy with an evil you had never seen before.

“Don’t you think you’re going anywhere anytime soon, love,” he grinned, sitting on the edge of his desk as he nodded behind you. “Martin there hates your little boy toy just as much as I do, so he won’t be letting you run past him too easily either.”

You kept still, taking in as deep a breath as you could, closing your eyes briefly to gain some courage as you thought of which of the many questions racing through your mind to ask next.

“How do you know who I am?” your voice squeaked out, unable to hide your fear.

He shrugged his shoulders and frowned, “I get people to find things out for me.”

“Right, I’d just like to get my keys and leave, I don’t want any trouble-”

“You’re missing the fucking point, here!” he shouted, cutting you off. “Didn’t little Petey warn you about me?”

You shook your head again, confused as to who this man even was to Pete. “No, I-”

“Was he too afraid to come with you, not man enough to protect you?”

He stood from his desk, walking closer to you until you were face to face and your back was pressed against a cabinet, leaving you nowhere to escape.

“Is the taste of death still too fresh for him?” he laughed, clearly amused in seeing you put it all together.

“You’re-”

“Yeah, that’s right, darling,” he cooed, his face so close to yours you could smell the stale beer and smoke on his putrid breath. “I’m Tommy Hatcher. The man who nearly wiped out the Dunham name.”

He seemed so proud of it, like the memory was something he revisited often, and you felt sick knowing you were standing vulnerable at the hands of the man who almost killed the one you couldn’t live without.

“It’s funny, innit? That out of all the garages in London to get your car fixed, you came to mine.”

His finger jabbed into your chest with each word, making you recoil to try to make space between you, only to press yourself harder into the cabinet.

“You’re vile,” you spat, shoving your arm against his chest to push him away from you, only to have him come back stronger and closer than before.

He gripped your chin with his meaty hand, his fingers digging into your skin so hard it made you yelp.

“I’ve been watching you for weeks now. You should really pay more attention to your surroundings, love,” he warned, the pleasure he took in this written all over his grisly face. “How’s that nephew of yours, by the way?”

Bile rose up your throat at the idea of him getting to Jack and causing him harm, the lengths this horrible, soulless man would go to to make anyone he hated suffer having no limit.

“He seems like a good lad,” he whispered, his mouth hovering beside your ear where his hot breath made your skin crawl and you squirm in his grasp. “It’d be a fucking shame if he didn’t make it past his twelfth birthday just like my son didn’t.”

“You wouldn’t!” you cried, trying to move your legs enough to kick him, only to have his body lean harder into yours to stop you.

“See, you’re forgetting what I’m capable of. How easy it was to drive that bottle into Stevie’s neck and how much fucking joy I got breaking Petey’s body until he was lifeless on the ground.”

His grip tightened on your face as his eyes scanned over you, and despite your efforts to not let it happen, tears sprang from your eyes at the description of him trying to kill Pete.

“Don’t think it wouldn’t be hard to do the same thing to you or that little boy.”

With all the strength you had, you pushed against him, hitting him as hard as you could in his stomach while stomping hard on his foot, but Tommy was too strong, slamming you back into the cabinet so the handle drove into your ribs and all the air in your lungs was knocked out of you.

He laughed in your face, locking his forearm across your neck to keep you in place, your struggle to breathe seeming to satisfy him.

“I could do anything I wanted to you right now and no one would know or be able to stop me,” he bragged, growing more aroused with the power he held over you.

He ground himself against you, making you feel his hardness through his trousers, the possibility of you actually being sick between that and the lack of oxygen becoming more and more likely.

“It’s funny, you've got the same look of terror in your eyes as he did right before I smashed his fucking face in!” he pointed out, his laughter ringing through the room like you had just shared a joke together.

Within a split second his demeanor changed again, glaring at you seriously as his voice quieted and turned calm.

“See, I could rape you, ruin you so he’d never want to touch you again...”

You let out a broken sob, your eyes screwing shut when you felt his other hand travel slowly down your waist until he reached your thighs, stopping when he spoke again.

“But it’s lucky for you I’m a changed man.”

Tommy loosened the force of his arm against your neck, backing away from you slightly, and ran a hand over his hair to regain some composure.

“Don’t wanna be stuck in the nick again over someone as pitiful as you and your precious Petey!” he barked, adjusting himself in his pants crudely while you shook against the cold, metal cabinet.

He reached for something on his desk, turning around and quickly throwing your keys at your face where they missed and hit you hard in the chest, making you jump and cry out which only made him howl a maniacal laugh.

“Go on, you shitcunt,” he spat, “go home to Petey and cry all about it to him!”

You stooped and grabbed your keys off the grimy floor with a trembling hand, bolting out the door as fast as your legs would carry you, the sound of his and Martin’s laughter chasing you out of the building where you pressed the button to unlock your car as quickly as possible.

The tears didn’t come until you were out of the lot and onto the road, the lights from passing cars blurry and blinding as you finally let out wracking sobs, unaware of how fast you were going or which roads you were turning down, getting as far away from Tommy Hatcher as you could the only thing on your mind.

---

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment if you enjoyed this story! 💗

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist please comment or send a DM.

Taglist:

@theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980 @lilac13 @stealfromthedevil @ramadiiiisme @rhoorl

[hotdamnhunnam]

@mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler lol yes!! @laurfilijames is the queen of this, with her beautiful Pete fics 😘

"undoing this character's death would take away his sacrifice and character arc" girl I don't give a shit. I'm bringing him back through the power of ao3 fix-it fics and there's nothing you can do to stop me x

[navybrat817]

As I unwind after a not-so-restful day, I wanted to take a moment to show some love to @laurfilijames and @hotdamnhunnam.

Some of you lovelies are aware that I'm wanting to dive more into the Charlie Hunnam fandom and explore his characters. As a former military brat, I'm used to being an outsider and not belonging. But I still want to connect. I still want to try. It doesn't make it any less nerve-wracking to venture into "new territory".

These lovelies reached out with open arms to welcome me and assured me that I have a place here. They didn't have to, but they did. It has led to some wonderful conversations and interaction. I felt seen. Supported. And I'm thankful for their kindness.

If you haven't checked out their fics, you should. They deserve the love. The fandom is lucky to have them. ❤️

[deathbecomesnerds]

Would you be open to reading a pete dunham fic?

I guess it would depend. Is it a whole fic? Smut? One shot?

[hotdamnhunnam]

✨ Emoji Fic Fest ✨

2k Followers Celebration! 🥳

💗 Emoji Fic Masterlist 💗 now posted!

GIFs by drogons

Sooo this humble little hoe blog now has over 2000 followers and it makes me super happy!! For a blog that only writes smut about one (1) man sex god I feel like 2k isn’t too shabby 😊 especially since Charlie’s fanbase is tragically small, much unlike his dick lolll…

--- Requests are now CLOSED ---

In celebration I’ve decided to *open requests* specifically for a little emoji fic fest! 💥

Here’s how it works:

Submit an ask

Choose 1 character (any character played by Charlie Hunnam, or Charlie Himself)

Give me 3 emojis (literally any emojis at all, seriously they can be weird and random as hell)

No limit on requests per person (*but* I’m not sure yet how long I’ll leave this open to requests / how many I’ll accept for this fic fest – tbh I might only take those that strike my inspiration)

… and then for each request that I accept I’ll write a fic (probz pretty short + obvz smutty) based on that character + emojis!

Tips:

If you’d like to see examples, there are actually a couple of 3-emoji prompt examples on my Masterlist of Drabbles!

If you’re not sure what emojis to submit, google perchance random emoji generator and feel free to play around with it! (previously included the link here but have deleted it as I think it may’ve been fucking up notifs and shit?)

And that’s it! ✨

**********************

Tagging some lovelies that I’m lucky to have had as part of my slutty tumblr journey, who have been super sweet and supportive of me:

No pressure to take part in this celebration obviously, just to thank you for being so lovely! 🙏🏼

[in alphabetical order] @abby-splace @alexa-rae-dreamz @autumnleaves1991-blog @band--psycho @charlie-hunnams-old-lady @charnelhouse @coffeebooksandfandom @coffeequeenxx @edonaspanca @emilykjh @est11 @flaireandsynch @gemini0410 @happyhunnams @helloheyhihowdyheya @hunnambabe @i-love-scott-mccall @innerpaperexpertcloud @itspdameronthings @jessie-writes-things @jitterbugs927 @kesskirata @little-diable @lovebarefootblonde @longlostinanotherworld @marvelousmermaid @malethirsty @miraclesoflove @miss-smutty @missusnora @niki-xie @pomegranatearildreams @rayslittlekitten @rebelwrites @samanthaisnthome @six-camelot @sciapod @soaharleys @tegggeeee @thexhostess @vixenrebellion @wayward-avenging @waywardodysseys @witching-hour @withmyteeth

+ everyone else on my tag list and kinkfest tag list!

**********************

Thanks so much again, and as always much love to everyone!! 💕

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Okay your Raymond Smith fic is superb.

Side question: Have you ever watched Greenstreet Hooligans? If the ending didn't happen the way it did, I could totally see Charlie Hunnam's character (Pete Dunham) growing into Raymond Smith.

They both have a ruthlessness when it comes to the task at hand but have sent manners. Like there's a part where pete is on the tube and he gets up to offer a lady his seat. While half the movie is him beating the shit out people.

ANYWAY Company Man reminded me of how much I like cutthroat, well mannered men.

I've never seen it but I can guess how it ends for him based on your description 😭😂

100% agree, though! I also like cutthroat, well mannered men.

I'm glad you enjoyed the fic!!

[laurfilijames]

Like My Dreams

Part 4

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 6.4k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Nudity. Fingering. Hand job. Cum play. Oral sex (M and F receiving). Squirting.

Summary: Things continue to progress between you and Pete, indulging in the slow buildup and all the fun that comes before sex, falling deeper in love with each other as each day passes.

A/N: I am so addicted to writing all these sweet moments between them that gives glimpses of how they are falling in love. There is so much more to come for this story and I am still so excited to share it!

*reader is not described other than having hair despite the photo used in the moodboard. And yes that's Jay and not Pete but LOOK AT HIM. It is so Pete coded I had to.

Intro Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pete Dunham Masterlist

---

You had to pull your phone away from your ear the moment the call picked up, the volume of Fiona shouting at you and going on about how worried she was too loud to keep it close, her annoyance at you not having answered her numerous calls not allowed to go unnoticed.

“Nothing happened!” you stressed, your grin splitting your face as you trotted down the sidewalk, listening to her accuse you of being too blissfully fucked out to communicate with your best friend and flatmate.

“Oh, my ass!”

“We kissed. All night.”

“Sure you did…”

“And talked…” you trailed off as you recalled every word and kiss shared, remembering each moment as if it had happened a hundred times over, his lips and voice ingrained in your memory forever. “Fi, I swear this can’t be real.”

“I can hear your grin through the phone. It’s making me ill,” she scoffed, but you could tell without seeing her face that it was in a lovingly teasing way. “And it’s real, so enjoy it, babes, you deserve it.”

Your smile grew even more as you made your way down the steps into the underground, not caring that strangers were noticing your blatant joy and staring at you as they passed.

“Put the kettle on, I’m on my way home.”

The lack of a vehicle was beginning to throw more of a wrench in your daily routine than you could have imaged, the difficulty of getting yourself to and from work let alone Jack to school and back turning into many inconvenient favours owed to Fiona and even Swill, and with neither one of them available to help today, you were relying on your very own knight in shining armour.

You yawned, your day having started earlier than you would’ve liked due to having to take the tube to your sister’s from Fiona’s in order to get there just as she was rushing out the door to work, praying you would get another coffee in your system soon.

“He’s here, Jack! Get a move on!” you called up the stairs, grabbing your purse and Jack’s cleats as he bounded down excitedly while sliding his arms through the straps of his backpack.

“Morning, Mr. Dunham!” Jack bellowed, practically skipping to Pete’s car as you locked the door to your sister's place.

“Morning, mate,” Pete greeted, his smile beaming as he stood in the open door of his car. He ruffled Jack’s hair as he flew past him and scooted into the backseat, tossing his things in unceremoniously as if getting into his teacher’s car was the most normal thing in the world.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Pete winked at you over the roof of his perfectly maintained, claret red Volkswagen, his hands tapping on it enthusiastically as his cheeks stretched even more on his face at seeing your own beautiful grin dress yours.

“Right,” he started, shutting his door after sitting back down in the driver’s seat. “Seatbelts on.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jack, then at you, his expression somewhat stern.

You looked at Jack to make sure he was doing as instructed as you fastened your own, giggling when Pete gave a pleased nod and leaned across the console to get close to you.

“You’re precious cargo,” he murmured, kissing you quickly, laughing as he pulled away when Jack began complaining about it.

For the first morning ever, you didn’t mind the commute from your sister’s house to your office, content with spending time with Pete before your workday, getting to admire him as he focused on driving while you sat comfortably in the passenger seat.

He sang pretty much the entire time, listening to a mixed CD he had burned, and it surprised and warmed your heart to see your nephew singing along to what words he knew, remembering Jack telling you how Pete often played music during class while they were working.

Stopping at a red light, Pete took your hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to it as many times as he could before the light turned again, checking in his rearview mirror to see Jack looking out the window smiling.

“How uncool do you reckon it is to show up at school with your teacher?” Pete asked, his question serious even though it initially made you laugh, seeing his brows knitted together as he stroked his thumb over his lower lip.

You looked back at Jack who was still in his glory, nodding his head along to “Supersonic” by Oasis, and then back at Pete, recognizing just how important his reputation and influence was not only to his firm and all the others in England, but also to his students.

You reached for his hand, rubbing your thumb across it before giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I think it’s different when your teacher is your idol.”

Pete couldn’t hide his smile even though he tried, licking his lips as he concentrated on the road again, his happiness making you wish the repairs on your car took longer than anticipated so you could do this for many mornings to come.

“Fucking hell,” Pete panted, his head knocking against the wall as you trailed your mouth down his neck, your hands slipping under his jumper to feel his abdomen expand and contract wildly under your touch, the desperation to have each other growing each time you were alone.

You had just returned to his flat after going out for a meal with Dave and Clair, unable to keep your hands to yourselves even in their company, the feel of Pete’s hand resting on your thigh all night in a confidently claiming way driving you insane.

It had been a mutual decision to take things slowly, carefully and progressively building up to the inevitable, the anticipation adding to the excitement of it all and making every moment with Pete feel that much more special.

It had been two days since your sleepover, the brief time spent together since without being able to be physical making you curious to know where things were going to take you now, but the way he had been kissing you in the back of the taxi told you he wasn’t going to ever leave you unsatisfied.

Your lips found his again after assaulting his neck and chest until it was made red from your attention, his blush spreading up onto his cheeks as he became more worked up, sweat starting to appear on his skin that allowed your hands to glide easily along it.

He pulled your lip with his teeth out of restraint as you ran your palm over the bulge in his jeans, stroking him through the material until his cock was pressing against it almost painfully, your fervor increasing as you appreciated his size.

Jackets were torn off and left abandoned on the floor wherever they fell, your shirt, and then his, following suit as you blindly stumbled away from the door and into the living room, Pete laughing as he crashed into his foosball table.

“Sorry!” you giggled, the words you were going to use to ask if he was okay dying before they had the chance to pass your lips, feeling numb from the way Pete was looking at you, his crooked smile and hands clasping your face as he leaned in to kiss you again making you forget about anything else.

He pulled you along with him into his bedroom, not stopping in kissing you even when you both frantically worked to unfasten each other’s pants, only breaking when you had to rush to kick them off your feet and catch your breath.

Pete smiled and took a sharp inhale, taking a second to admire you in your bra and panties, watching your eyes cloud over with lust as you admired him in his burgundy boxers that were no longer leaving much to the imagination.

He closed the space between you and crashed against your lips again, his hands holding your neck and jawline to increase the depth of his tongue in your mouth, moaning when he felt your fingers hook in the waistband of his boxers and edge them down his legs.

Your own moans of approval rang out when you felt his cock spring free, your hand catching it and stroking his length base to tip, your thumb smoothing over his head.

Shivers rushed down your spine as Pete unhooked your bra and peeled it off of you, the sensation of his fingers and the lace delicately slipping along your arms and chest making you ache, your heart pounding when he pulled you closer to him so you were pressed together.

His lips traveled from yours and down your neck, peppering along your shoulder as he breathed you in, your head tipping back at how incredible something so simple felt.

Continuing his worship of you, he kissed down your upper arm and across your chest, sitting on the bed as he did, allowing for a better height for his mouth to line up to your breasts.

Forced to release his cock from your hold, you stood between his legs with the help of his guidance, whining as your nails dug into the flesh on his upper back when his tongue swirled around one of your nipples, flicking and sucking it until it hardened to his attention.

“Pete…” you breathed, both a praise and plea.

He didn’t stop, repeating the same on your other breast, his hands gently slipping down your waist until they caught on the lace of your panties and slowly peeled them down your hips and thighs until they pooled on the floor.

Once you were naked, he wrapped his arm around your legs and bum and tugged you forward, forcing you onto the bed with him where you landed wrapped together in his unmade sheets, his smile bright as he shifted and looked at you lovingly. He ran his hand over your hair, dipping his face down so his smile met the one you returned to him, your hands squeezing his body as you held him close to you.

You smiled as you reached up to trace his lips, his soft laugh making your heart soar as he placed his forehead against yours and nudged your nose back and forth, both of your smiles fading as the weight of this moment settled in.

Pete’s hand slowly trailed down your side and onto your hip, scooping your thigh to sling it over his waist, your breath pausing in your lungs as you waited for him to touch you, his fingers carefully gliding between your bodies until he landed home.

You gasped, releasing the air you had been holding in, the sensation of him swiping through your slick folds before pushing his middle and index finger inside you making you moan and grip his shoulder without regard to how your nails were leaving half-moon indentations in his skin.

The groan that tumbled from his parted lips in appreciation of how wet you were for him made your arousal increase even more, unable to help yourself from grinding your hips against his hand for more friction where you needed it most.

“Fuck,” he swore as he exhaled, hooking his fingers to massage you as if he knew the very spot that would make your legs tremble, and while you indulged in his generosity of pleasuring you, it was impossible to forget about him, taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock again.

Spreading the precum that was leaking heavily from the tip, you stroked him up and down, feeling every vein pulse as his shaft flexed and twitched to your touch, his hips bucking forward slightly, causing him to work you with more fervor.

A breathy moan passed his lips before he brought them to yours, gently and almost to test it out as if he hadn’t kissed you a thousand times already, meeting your lips more confidently when you reciprocated eagerly.

You never stopped once, exchanging breaths and slow kisses the entire time your hands explored each other, the addicting sensation of Pete’s long fingers moving in and out of you expertly while his thumb circled your clit keeping you on the brink and ready to fall when he allowed for it.

“Are you gonna come for me, beautiful?” he uttered, his voice thick with lust, his eyes heavy-lidded when he parted from you enough to look at your swollen lips and the way you squirmed beside him.

“Fuck, Pete…” you whined, gyrating against his hand, prompting him to amp up his already-perfect efforts.

“That’s it, darling,” he groaned, his mouth hovering against yours as he felt you tighten around his fingers.

You somehow managed to continue pumping his cock even through the build-up of your climax, desperate to drag him along with you and to experience what you hoped would be the first of many simultaneous orgasms, but Pete had a determination that was unmatched.

He alternated between hitting your g-spot and rubbing your tingling clit, massaging both precisely, causing you to inadvertently halt your movements on him as your climax ripped through you violently.

“Good girl, fuck…” he hissed, watching you fall apart under his touch, your body so beautifully reacting to the pleasure he provided, the noises spilling from your lips sounding better than he could have imagined.

Stilling his fingers but not removing them from you, he kissed you until he felt your walls release the grip you had on them, growling into your mouth in discovering how much your creamy slick had coated his hand.

You wrapped the hand that wasn’t holding his throbbing cock around the back of his neck and pulled him closer to you, kissing him hard to show your gratitude as you resumed jerking him off.

“Hang on,” he murmured, his brow furrowed as he took his hand that was between your legs and gripped his cock with it, spreading your juices on himself, more curses coming out of his mouth as he did. Somewhat forcefully, he grabbed your hand and placed it back around him, guiding your pace for a moment before sliding his fingers between your legs again, swiping through your soaked and sensitive folds back and forth until your cries encouraged him to drive them inside your aching hole.

You kept the tempo he had set, not faltering even when occasionally adding a pass of your thumb over his head, feeling him begin to lose control with each second. His free hand moved to cup your face, the gold of his ring cold against your burning cheek, his tongue rolling with yours vigorously as he ground his body against yours.

He groaned into your mouth, the sound guttural and primal, his lips breaking from yours briefly as he came harshly, his hot spend shooting out onto your lower belly and core where he didn’t let up on his ministrations.

His breathing was sharp and heaving, and you didn’t notice yours turning to be the same, focused on the feeling of his thumb smearing his cum over your clit that threw you into another shattering high.

He let you ride out your second climax, relishing in every blissful aftershock of it, your breaths gradually slowing together as your kisses became lazier and less hurried. Pete smiled against your lips as he gradually pulled away, his eyes bright and full of joy and promise of more.

“I’ll go get a towel, yeah?” he spoke softly and winked, looking at the mess he had made on your bodies, but thinking how fucking good you looked covered in his cum.

Pete tossed the soiled towel down on the floor and sighed as he lay back on his pillow, lifting his arm for you to slip underneath it, your head laying on his chest like you were made to fit in the space against his side.

Your fingers danced on his skin, tracing his West Ham crest adoringly, the happiness buzzing through you unlike anything else you had felt before.

He kissed the top of your head, his voice sounding tired and comfortably sleepy when he spoke.

“Are you going to stay the night?”

You beamed, relieved he couldn’t see your grin from his angle.

“I was considering it…”

Pete chuckled as he rolled over to cage you under his body, smiling down at you while giving you a playful look, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

“You’re dreaming if you think I’m letting you leave.”

What felt like an explosion of nerves burst in your stomach the closer you came to Steve and Shannon’s home, and you found yourself appreciating the decent walk from Bank Station in the brisk evening air, filling your lungs with it with each breath to try to calm yourself.

Like he sensed your unease, Pete squeezed your hand that he held in his, glancing over at you as he walked with his usual certainty.

“They’re gonna love you,” he reassured, his smile making you believe him a little bit. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Okay,” you hummed, resting your head on his shoulder as you continued taking strides together, smiling and returning his consolation by squeezing his hand back.

After a few more minutes of walking and being distracted by one of Pete’s insane fighting stories, he slowed and turned to lead you up the steps to the porch of a posh townhome, feeling yourself straighten your shoulders and take a deep breath as he hit the doorbell, the wink and smile he shot in your direction helping you steel yourself.

“Hi, bruv,” Pete greeted excitedly when Steve answered the door, walking through it when he stepped out of the way for you both to enter.

He introduced you with pride to Steve and Shannon, and as soon as the formalities were out of the way and Steve had taken your coats, you felt any unease about meeting them completely vanish.

“What’s this?” Steve asked when Pete handed him a bag before seeing himself through to the kitchen.

Pete scoffed, speaking over his shoulder, “Wine, a baguette, dessert…” he listed, like he was offended Steve was asking.

The look Steve gave him made you smirk, confusion written all over his face.

“Pete, when have you ever brought anything?”

“Bollocks!” Pete responded, his grin revealing the truth behind his brother’s accusation, giving you a look like you shouldn’t believe it as he opened the refrigerator door and helped himself to a beer.

“I see you’re already having a positive effect on him,” Steve said to you. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“A glass of wine would be great, thank you,” you smiled, already finding the relationship between the two Dunham brother’s endearing and ultimately entertaining.

Pete was on cloud nine, smiling to himself as he went into the kitchen with a stack of dirty plates, hearing your infectious laugh sound through from the dining room, having hit it off with his brother and sister-in-law effortlessly.

He wanted to show you off to everyone he knew, so proud to be with someone as beautiful and incredible as you, and he knew his mum would love you to pieces when he eventually was able to introduce you to her as well.

“That’s going well then, is it?” Steve asked, coming in and grabbing another bottle of wine from the rack beside the fridge.

“Yeah, it is,” Pete nodded, half expecting a negative comment or some sort of warning to come out of Steve’s mouth next, bracing for it as he retrieved dessert plates out of the cupboard.

“She’s really great, Pete. You suit each other.”

Pete turned to look at him, his eyebrows hooked high in shock, and he became even more surprised to see the genuine expression on his brother’s face when he did.

“I mean it, you know,” Steve stressed, seeing Pete’s doubt. “I’m really pleased for ya, mate, so is Shan. It’s nice seeing you happy.”

“I was happy before,” Pete countered, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, not questioning that they adored you but rather that Steve was about to lecture him on something about life meaning more than how he had lived it up until now and suggesting for him to leave the firm and fighting behind.

“Yeah, but this is different, innit?”

Pete nodded as he glanced over at his brother again, smiling when he saw his honesty hadn’t faded.

Steve stepped forward and embraced Pete, a hug something that was very seldom shared between them, but Pete welcomed it gladly, patting Steve’s back aggressively and lifting him up slightly, making Steve curse and groan.

“Thanks, ya old geezer,” Pete laughed, refocusing on his task of setting out dessert while Steve uncorked the bottle of red, both brothers smiling out of appreciation and gratitude for how life was turning out after everything they had been through.

It was hard to peel your eyes away from him despite the pleasure he was providing you feeling so divine it was nearly impossible to keep them from closing, the half of his face that wasn’t currently obstructed looking heavenly as he indulged between your legs.

His brows were knitted together, his focus and pride in his work written out on his expression as he ate at you appreciatively, the way his hands dug into the flesh on your hips yet another signal of his enthusiasm in being able to taste you.

Your fingers carded languidly through his short hair, it feeling velvety against the inside of your trembling hand before his tongue hit that perfect spot he kept finding and teasing and made you grip his scalp with a plea for mercy, your hips lifting off the bed as your cries filled the air.

Pete was more than generous when it came to pleasuring you, having already made you come twice on his tongue and fingers that didn’t leave the intoxicating comforts at the apex of your thighs, his drive to coax another orgasm out of you something to be awarded.

His moans told you all you needed to know about how much he loved tasting you, although he was sure to utter the words between licking and eating up all you had to offer, his praise making you soar and feel like a goddess even though you were simply laying there and doing nothing but being spoiled.

You smiled, feeling yourself grow more deranged from ecstasy as you neared another climax, unable to believe how lucky you were to find a man who clearly loved the act of performing oral more than you had ever experienced, his talent and passion for it evident in each swipe and suck, your pleasure the only priority.

“Pete!” you wailed, trembling on the mattress as he drove his fingers in and out in the way he learned drove you insane, his lips sucking on your clit to make you reach your high once more.

It felt different, more intense than all the orgasms he’d given you already, a pressure coiling tightly at the base of your spine, your whole body tensing.

“Relax, love,” he encouraged, pausing only long enough to say the words before returning to his position, his fingertips brushing your g-spot a few more times before withdrawing them completely from you, his tongue flicking your clit to finish the job.

You screamed, your body convulsing as a rush of wet exploded from you, soaking his face that he kept buried in your cunt as he drank up all he lured out of you.

“Holy shit, Pete,” you panted, your chest heaving wildly as you fought to catch your breath and comprehend what just happened, every part of you tingling and alight from such an intense pleasure you didn’t know you were capable of experiencing.

Pete hummed against you, shifting slightly as he moved his lips from your over-sensitive folds onto your thigh, his eyes full of lust as he glanced up at you.

Licking his lips, he sat up on the bed, a deep breath filling his lungs as he tried to keep control of himself, his voice deep and gravelly when he spoke.

“I fucking knew you were going to taste that good.”

His continued praise left you breathless, and although you barely had any strength left in your limbs, you propped yourself up on your elbows and met him in a kiss that tasted of your tangy essence.

One of your hands pressed gently on his chest to encourage him to stand while your other found his cock that strained with a need for your attention that you were so desperate to give it, moving off the bed with him as you slowly rubbed his length.

You reluctantly broke your kiss as you sank to your knees in front of him, keeping eye contact as you did, your hand remaining on his cock as the other slid down his defined abs to his toned thigh. His muscles trembled when you pressed your lips on his groin, then a little further down on his leg, your nose brushing along his heated skin that smelled so incredible it made your mouth water.

You swallowed thickly, bringing your lips to his leaking tip, smoothing it across them before parting them enough to invite him into your mouth, still managing to hold his stare as you did.

“Fuck, babe,” he hissed, his eyes clouding with a hazy ecstasy.

Moaning as you took him fully in the heat of your mouth, you relished in his taste and smell, your nose landing in the wheat-coloured hairs at the base of his cock that held that musky scent you were now addicted to.

Your hand clawed into his quad as you brought your head as close to his body as you could, his cock slamming into the back of your throat as a result, a shiver running through you to make your nipples harden and you to shift your knees on the floor to spread your legs apart.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered, your eyes closing as you relished in his praise, his words encouraging you to make him feel as good as he had made you.

You gave him all you had, sucking and swirling your tongue around from base to tip over and over, bobbing on and off of his size that made you gag, but you never let up, hearing his groans and curses falling from his parted lips that made you even more eager to taste his load.

Gently, you cupped his sack, massaging it at the same time you moved him in and out of your mouth vigorously, feeling him tense and throb to your efforts.

Glancing up to check his expression to be sure everything you were doing was feeling as mind-blowing as you hoped, you carefully rubbed your knuckles against the spot behind his balls, increasing the pressure when you saw his mouth slacken and his eyelids shut.

“That’s it, fuck!”

His hips began to match your tempo, his hand carefully landing on the back of your head to remind you what he could do if you dared to stop, his subtle demand for you to keep on exactly how you were making your own arousal leak from you and drip onto the floor.

Pete stopped moving, instead digging his fingers into your scalp, his breathy grunts and moans signaling his end that made you work with even more enthusiasm until you felt him pulse into your mouth in powerful spurts.

You moaned appreciatively as you swallowed his thick, hot cum, still swirling your tongue around his girth until a shaky laugh rang out above you.

“Fuck me,” he huffed, running a hand through his hair as he watched you release him from your mouth with a pop as you sucked off the last bits seeping from his tip.

Pete held out his hand to help you up, nodding at the bed behind you, a mischievous look dressing his flushed face.

“Sit.”

It was exhilarating, wondering what he was planning now, trusting him completely while also indulging in the curious excitement mixing with nervousness that the look in his eyes gave you, and obediently, you did as you were told.

Pete kneeled between your legs, smiling proudly as he guided your feet to rest on the edge of the mattress, spreading you open wide for him to access all of your fresh slick that had accumulated in your folds.

“I’m not nearly done with you yet, darling.”

Pete woke up sometime in the early hours of the morning, having stayed up well past midnight due to the simple fact that neither of you could get enough of each other, indulging in discovering every bit of the other with your hands and mouths again and again until you eventually grew too weak and tired to tolerate anymore pleasure.

The window was open just as Pete had it any other night, the sounds of the other sleepless people of East London drifting into his bedroom along with the chilly air. A lazy smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, thinking how it couldn’t be possible to have ever been as comfortable in his bed as he was now, your presence beside him something he didn’t want to go without again.

He sighed as he shifted closer to you, moving his arm around your torso to tuck your back against his front even more, the warmth that was pouring off of you contrasting drastically to the cold clinging to the duvet. Nestling his nose into your neck, he searched for your hand in the dark, lacing your fingers together when he found it.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered, his voice sluggish, feeling you stir beside him as a soft whimper escaped you.

Sunday’s were already a favourite of his, a typical one spent down at The Abbey having pints with the boys or in the stadium cheering the Hammers on at home, but knowing he was going to wake up with you still in his arms had him looking even more forward to it.

If anyone had asked Pete a list of things he loved only a month or two ago he would’ve given his usual answer; football. West Ham United. The GSE. Scrapping other firms and the feeling that came with it. Teaching. Music and books. The soothing feeling of a pint on his hoarse throat after screaming through a match or the sting of a bruise on his face that reminded him of the minor injuries he had forgotten.

Never would he have considered the list changing to this.

You. Your smile and laugh. The way you looked at him. The way his heart jumped each time he saw your name on his phone or heard your sweet voice on the other end. The feel of your lips on his, or how supple your skin was against his palms whenever he touched you. Not to mention the way your quiet moans would grow whenever he did.

Pete inhaled deeply, drawing in your warm scent, knowing that if you weren’t wrapped up with him right now he would still have a difficult time believing this was real.

Something he never thought was possible. Something he never even considered as an option before his life had been completely turned upside down and nearly stolen from him.

Loving you was the best thing he had ever done in his life, and if it all vanished tomorrow with the rise of the sun, Pete would feel lucky to have experienced even half of what he had so far.

“Where are we going?” Jack asked from the back seat, noticing that you had deviated from your usual route to his house from his guitar practice.

“You’ll see!” you chimed, trying your best to relax as you drove, the anxiety you felt about being back behind the wheel ever-present, but knowing where you were headed was helping to keep you calm.

It was a relief to have your car out of the repair shop, no longer having to bum rides off of anyone or take the tube during the busiest parts of the day, but the convenience and gratitude you felt for having your independence again didn’t outshine the slight panic that lingered just below the surface, especially whenever Jack was with you.

The Stone Roses came on the radio, hearing the intro to “I Wanna Be Adored” bringing out your smile and making you turn the dial up, the lyrics allowing you to relax into your seat and loosen your grip on the steering wheel slightly.

Humming along, you felt your heart ache with that wonderful fullness that was becoming both familiar and craveable, the desire to chase it any time a thought of Pete came into your mind or a text from him came up on your phone a high you never wanted to end, the same feeling now related to songs you listened to together.

I don’t have to sell my soul,

He’s already in me.

The lyrics felt like a gospel, the words speaking the truth about how consumed by Pete you already were, the thought of having to sell your heart or soul laughable as you had handed it all over willingly and not once hesitated to do so.

You pulled up to the pitch where Pete and the other members of the GSE were playing a friendly game of football, seeing Jack’s face light up when you looked in the rearview mirror after putting the car in park.

“We’re only stopping for a bit,” you explained, not wanting him to think he was getting out of going home in time for tea and to do his homework.

The rain had been consistently falling all day, but that never stopped the love for the game, not minding being out in it now when you saw how happy they all were beneath the layers of mud and water.

Pete had just finished scoring a goal when he saw you and Jack standing at the sidelines, smiling brightly as he jogged over to you.

“Aye, aye!” he called, slowing before he crashed into you, his cold hands grabbing your cheeks as he planted an enthusiastic kiss on your lips.

“Hiya, love,” he murmured when he pulled away, sending you a wink before nodding over at Jack and ruffling his hair.

“Eh, Jack, you’re in, mate.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, go for it! You’ll be doing better than me,” he laughed. “My leg could do with a break, plus, these old geezers are all slowing down and getting tired so you’ll dodge around them no problem.”

Jack looked at you for permission to which you nodded and laughed, “Yes! Your cleats are still in my car from yesterday.”

“Yes!” Jack celebrated, jumping up and down on the spot before running back to the car to get his gear.

“You’ve just made his day,” you smiled, nudging Pete’s arm with your elbow as you swayed on the spot, wondering how they were all managing to stay warm when they were soaked through to their skin.

“Ah, he’s a good lad,” Pete complimented, both of you watching as he hurriedly changed his shoes and ran out onto the field where he was welcomed excitedly by Ned and Dave.

You couldn’t help but giggle, seeing Jack burst out laughing as Dave told him about Bovver’s bummed knee, explaining to him ways to twist him up and get around him fast enough he wouldn’t be able to keep up.

Within a few minutes, the lads were all amping Jack up, calling him “Beckham” only to be corrected that he wanted to be like Ferdinand, and cheering and going on more than usual any time he got a goal, making the kid beam.

“Did you have a good day, darling?” Pete asked, taking your hand in his where he pulled you into him, his lips peppering over your forehead.

“It’s better now,” you sighed, allowing yourself to lean into him despite him being soaking wet.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You make everything better, Pete.”

You felt him hum, his chest rumbling with his approval at the same time his arms held you tighter, allowing you to inhale deeply to capture the mix of sweat, rain and fresh air as you nuzzled your face against him.

The tender moment lasted momentarily when Pete began shouting jeers at the boys, making you laugh the louder and more offensive his words became toward his mates, his body shaking as he began to crack up as well.

“Come on, Ned, the lad is almost taller than you!” Pete teased, promptly holding up his middle finger to Ned after being given one on each hand in response to his insult.

He chuckled and then kissed the top of your head before flicking your hood up to cover it, holding onto the edges to make sure it stayed up and shielded you as much as it could from the rain.

“I should get in there and put those idiots in their places,” he smiled, his blue eyes bright against the gloomy sky.

“Yeah, I need to get the little lad home,” you explained. “Thank you for this. You always make him feel like a star.”

Pete smirked, pulling out the creases around his mouth. “Ah, it’s all good, darling.”

Still holding onto your hood, he dipped in and kissed you, once and then again, unable to get enough, both of you losing focus on his return to the match and your departure.

“Why is it always impossible to say goodbye to you?” you accused, pulling your lip in your teeth until he kissed you again and forced you to release it.

“I get that a lot.”

He laughed when you squeezed him, the sound of it adding to the intoxication he had over you, and you melted even more when it quickly faded into a moan of desire when his lips met yours again, his kiss deepening with a sudden desperation.

“Oi! Lovebirds!” Ike’s voice rang out through the mix of someone else shouting for you to get a room and Jack yelling “Gross!”.

“Lovebirds?” Pete asked, his amusement clear in his grin as he laughed again and kissed you through his smile.

“Yeah,” you spoke against his lips, happy to confirm the sentiment.

He pulled away from you with a groan after another intense kiss, biting his lip this time out of restraint, his head shaking back and forth while looking at you hungrily.

“Mm. I'll be getting my hands on you later.”

Warmth spread through you, your love and arousal blooming for him even more in anticipation of what was coming next for you, seeing promises of intense pleasure glowing in his eyes as he stepped backwards and turned to jog back onto the pitch.

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Part 5

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[laurfilijames]

Like My Dreams

Part 2

Pete Dunham Masterlist

Intro Part 1

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Use of pain medication. Mentions of fighting/violence/hooliganism. Sexual tension/alluding to oral sex. Car accident resulting in a concussion, broken ribs, cuts/bruises. Mentions of stitches.

Summary: The days that followed meeting Pete consist of a blur of exciting moments of getting to know each other and growing feelings, and just when things start to really develop between you, a wrench is thrown in to disrupt it all but also drives home how precious life and love are.

A/N: Not much to say other than my love for Pete grows every day along with my drive to give him the justice he deserves! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!! This film has a very small fan base so I'd love to chat with anyone who enjoys it as much as I do 💗

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Pete Dunham.

The name turned over in your head again and again as he walked toward you, his limp less noticeable in his slightly cocky strut, and you nearly asked Fiona to pinch you in order to help you comprehend the reality of this.

Your eyes locked with his as soon as you noticed him, your surprise at seeing him there dressing your face, and you could easily see his own shock at you being Fiona's friend quickly morph into amusement.

"Well, look who we have here," he drawled. "I've either died and gone to heaven or someone is taking the piss."

You tilted your head, "Why would that be?"

"First of all, you show up in my class, and now you're standing in my pub. I already cheated death once, so I really can't figure out how else I'd be seeing you twice in one day."

"Is that a bad thing?"

He flashed you that same smile you had been picturing all day and shook his head slowly back and forth, "Oh, no."

"Good."

You could feel everyone else's eyes on you, watching the exchange between you and him, and yet all you could focus on were those blue eyes that seemed like they were staring into your soul.

"So this beautiful woman is both one of my student's aunts and Fiona's best mate?" he asked, to no one in particular.

You nodded, confirming his inquiries while chewing on your lower lip.

"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, the simple but fully-charged words making you shiver.

"And you're not only the beloved Mr. Dunham, but also the infamous top bloke of the GSE?" you asked, finding your voice.

His eyebrows raised high on his forehead, "Have you been asking about me?"

"I might've been."

He let out a sort of growl and licked his lips, "Well then, I guess there's no use in denying any of it."

His hand was now outstretched between you, allowing you a better look of his long fingers than you had this morning, noticing the middle one was adorned with a gold ring, wild thoughts of how they might feel against your skin causing you to hesitate while he stood waiting for you to make contact in a handshake. You did so assuredly after taking a steadying breath to regain your composure, the confidence you seemed to radiate while being in his presence like nothing you had experienced before.

You gave him your name as your hands lingered, the tone of your voice holding onto something low and lusty, "It's nice to officially meet you, Pete."

The way you looked at him and the sound of his name falling off your tongue made him want to crash into you and kiss you right then, and although he was confident you would've welcomed it, he took a deep breath and willed his patience to come through.

Setting his empty glass on the bar, he declined another with the shake of his head when Terry offered a refill, turning his attention immediately back to you after disrupting it briefly. There weren't many times in Pete's life that he had turned down pints, and even if he hadn't taken a pain pill earlier, he still would refuse drinking another one, the thought of clouding this euphoria he felt in seeing you again something he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for. The high he was experiencing beat any scrap or victory by the Hammers, and he silently vowed to give it all up tomorrow and be sober as a judge if it meant living and breathing the same air as you.

The endless days spent alone in his hospital bed gave Pete more than enough time to assess his life and think about his future, something he never really paid any mind to aside from when the next match was and who him and the boys would be up against, but those lonely moments had brought on a harsh realization that maybe he was missing something. He often envied seeing families pass by his room with arms full of gifts and treats to help their loved ones feel better, his smile fading as he grasped the fact that no one other than his brother and his mates occasionally stopped by to check in on him and make sure he hadn't done a runner, but he was grateful he even had that. With their dad long passed away and their mum living too far to warrant frequent visits, Pete began to consider what it would be like to have someone else in his life who cared about him, someone who could fill the space in his heart that up until then had been occupied solely by football and all the senseless nonsense that came along with it.

Those curiosities only increased when he was dismissed and staying with Steve and Shannon, having watched them rekindle their love for each other carefully and tenderly; her decision to stay and make things work solidified when the second Dunham brother had found his life gripped tightly in Death's hands.

He had promised himself that he would make it all count now, not wanting to waste the time that was given to him, and after meeting you he knew he wasn't going to let anything good slip through his fingers.

"Can I take you out sometime?" he suddenly blurted, the question tumbling out of his mouth on its own accord.

The gorgeous smile that seemed like a permanent fixture on your face grew while his did the same, and he felt his heart hammer in his chest as a fury of nerves burst through him as he waited for your answer to his question that now seemed completely mental.

"Yes," you giggled, your disbelief clear by the shake of your head and raise of your eyebrows. "I would love that."

Pete let out a nervous laugh and ran his hand over his head, the rush of relief and excitement he felt making him almost dizzy as he glanced around at the humored faces of his mates standing around him.

"Sweet," he said, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he turned his focus back to you. "Is tonight too soon?"

Reluctant goodbye's were finally said after you exchanged phone numbers with Pete, having Fiona essentially drag you out of the pub behind her, finding you were unwilling and nearly unable to peel yourself away from Pete.

He was incredibly charming and sweet, and you struggled to push down the feeling in your stomach you were certain that you had never felt so intensely before.

Fiona sighed dramatically as the door of the pub slammed shut behind you, her exasperation only fuelling you to smile even more.

"You two!" she cursed, grabbing your arms and shaking you as you lifted your hands up to your face to cup your own cheeks as you began laughing.

"My cheeks hurt!"

"No bloody wonder," she said with the roll of her eyes. "You've been grinning like a loon all night!"

Fiona released her grip on you and began walking in the direction of her house, leaving you standing looking at the door, half tempted to go back inside.

"Don't you DARE make me regret this!" she hollered, prompting you to move your feet and follow her down the road.

You ran a few steps to catch up, linking your arm in hers to help you keep in time with her quick and determined pace.

"Oh, come on, Fi! Besides, we met each other first without anybody's assistance," you reminded her, thinking back to hours ago when Pete looked just as heavenly in the morning sun shining through his classroom windows as he did in the dim light of The Abbey.

"Swill is gutted," she said dramatically.

You tapped her arm with your hand, "Oh, stop! He is not! Nothing has even happened…" you trailed off, thinking of all the things that were hopefully going to happen.

"The church is booked and the cake is being made as we speak. Oh! And listen…" she paused, stopping in her tracks and putting her finger to her ear, "There's the wedding bells…"

A week had passed since meeting Pete, those seven days filled with a joy you couldn't recall having experienced to that extent, each moment spent with him blissful and ecstatically happy.

Pete had an exuberance about him that was truly infectious, reflecting onto you and anyone around him like a drug, his liveliness noticed by everyone.

You admired him now, watching as he laughed with Terry, sharing a joke that made his lips spread so wide on his face that his cheeks creased the way you had quickly discovered you loved.

Beer spilled over the side of the pint glass as he handed it to you, the warmth of his fingers contrasting to that of the beer as they brushed with yours, his blue eyes alight with the same vigor that showed in his smile.

"Cheers, babe," he winked, clinking his glass with yours hard enough it made even more beer splash off the top of it and down his hand, his eyes still fixed on you as he brought it up to his mouth and licked the mess off his skin with a broad sweep of his smooth and incredibly alluring tongue. It was like he knew everything you were thinking, the mischief in his eyes confirming that this move of his was a subtle tell of meaning more, and flashing you another playful wink, he glanced up to the screen with the match on, making your heart flip in your chest and leaving you aching to discover everything his mouth was capable of.

So far it had all been just like this; hanging out at The Abbey with him, the lads and Fi, slowly getting to know each other amidst the normalcy of the GSE's scheduled meet-ups, your heart growing its affection toward him the more you were in his presence.

"I'd love to go one day," you shouted, loud enough Pete would hear you over the busy crowd surrounding you.

Shock, and mostly amusement crossed his features, his eyes twinkling while his lips curled into an even bigger grin, the stretch making the cut on the lower one split open and start bleeding again.

"You've never been?"

"To a West Ham match? No!" you returned his smile, unable to help yourself. "My uncle is an Arsenal fan. I've been to one game in my whole life."

Pete looked at you with astoundment, an exaggerated expression that bordered on being genuine dressing his gorgeous face.

"Tell me you're not a Gooner…"

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, ignoring the inquisition, unsure if being an Arsenal supporter out of default was worse than not paying attention to the sport hardly at all.

"He brought me once because I begged him! He was so nervous about taking me because it was too dangerous…thanks to hooligans like you!" You touched his arm flirtatiously, feeling his muscles flex while he watched you with an expression you couldn't place.

"One game?"

You nodded, taking a sip of your beer.

He licked his lips, increasing your ache for wanting to do that yourself, glancing up at the telly before back at you.

"Right, we're going Saturday."

"Really?"

"Really."

He held your gaze for a beat, making your heart feel like it stopped completely, and you dared to bring your hand up to his face, using your thumb to swipe away the blood that clung to the corner of his lip.

Pete hung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, the temptation he felt to kiss you making him feel antsy enough he had to take another long drink of his pint to distract from it.

Everything buzzed around you.

It was unclear if it was because you were with him, or it was just the enthusiasm of the stadium that had you feeling this way, but it felt like the most exciting thing you had ever been a part of as you walked down the concrete steps to the GSE's designated seats.

"Can I at least buy the beers after?" you asked, feeling slightly guilty in knowing how much these boys forked out for the seats.

Pete laughed heartily, "Fuck, no! You're my date! I refuse to let you pay for a single thing when this was all my idea."

He smiled at you before looking out onto the pitch proudly, allowing you another chance to admire him just as you did any other time the opportunity arose, his features something you swore could have been sculpted by Michelangelo himself.

"Besides," he grinned, "It's Swill's turn to buy all the rounds after the game…"

"'S not!" Swill shouted, his scowl making Pete's grin shine even more, his pleased chuckle at riling up his mate mixing in with the noise of the crowd.

An argument broke out between Swill, Ike and Dave about who owed what in terms of beer and exactly how many rounds were left unsettled, leaving you and Pete to lose yourselves in each other, leaning in close to talk, the start of the match very unimportant as his hand rested on your thigh and his gaze lingered on your lips.

With the Hammers having won, everyone was in bright spirits, and you knew as you walked through the congested crowd with your hand entwined in Pete's that you would've felt the same even if they had lost, the charged glances he was continuously flashing sparking the growing need inside you to uncover all the pleasurable things that were possible.

The two of you lagged behind while the other boys walked on ahead in the direction of the pub, allowing softer moments shared without notice, Pete pausing in his confident strides to search your eyes with his vibrantly blue ones while his smile split his face.

"Did you have a good time?"

"I did," you assured, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

"No dangerous hooligans to scare you off?" he teased.

"Not a single one…"

His laugh turned into a sort of growl as his own lip tucked in his teeth, his head turning in the direction of his mates before whipping back to you.

"You sure about that?"

You nodded. "I'm not scared, Pete…"

He was about to kiss you, leaning in to dip his face beside yours, until Swill's voice echoed through the tunnel and stopped him in his tracks.

"Oi! Fuck head! 'S your round, Pete, ya cunt!"

"Fucking Christ…" Pete muttered, pulling away from you reluctantly. "I may kill him one day."

You laughed, causing his frustration to grow into a chuckle, and he grabbed your hand and started walking again, nodding in the direction of the others with another beaming smile.

"Come on."

It had been three days since last seeing Pete, the amount that you missed him equalling the excitement you felt about seeing him tonight when you would go out on your first 'proper date' as he had called it.

Everything was up to him when it came to the plans, the only thing revealed to you so far that he was taking you to a lush Italian restaurant he had made reservations at, and that he was picking you up from Fiona's at seven.

Butterflies had made themselves busy in your stomach since the moment your alarm woke you up, and as you drove Jack to school now, they increased even more in knowing there was a small chance of seeing him outside as he went into work.

"Are you coming for tea tonight?" Jack asked, his hopeful voice making you feel guilty before even telling him no. "Mum's making that chicken dish you love so much."

"Ahh, of course she is! But sadly, I can't tonight, little lad," you gently explained, pulling up to a traffic light. "I'm actually going on a date…"

Your words trailed off as you glanced in the rearview mirror at him, waiting for his reaction, which came as you had expected in the form of a disgusted scowl.

"A date? Ew!"

You laughed as you looked back at the road, lifting your foot off the brake and onto the gas pedal to start accelerating as the light turned green, appreciating your nephew being in this stage where boys and girls still viewed each other as gross.

"Oh, come on!" you pleaded. "I think you'd like him…"

He scoffed and looked out the window as you peeked at him again briefly.

"Better be a West Ham supporter…" he muttered.

You bit your lip. "Oh, he is, don't worry!"

You debated telling him that his beloved teacher was your date, not wanting him to feel awkward or have it change his opinions on him, but sensing how well things were going between you, Jack was going to find out eventually anyway.

Opening your mouth to admit your little secret, your words were cut off as a car slammed into the side of yours, a gasp being forced out instead as all the wind was knocked out of your lungs, the sound dying in the deafening noise of metal crashing together and tires screeching on asphalt.

Your body was jostled violently, your head smacking hard against the window and then into the deployed airbag that felt like hitting a rock, hearing yourself desperately scream Jack's name before everything was dark and silent.

Consciousness returned to you briefly, your body overcome with pain as it slowly registered in your brain that struggled to comprehend what was happening, your head throbbing and feeling like it had been split in two.

All you could hear through the sound of a consistent, blaring horn was Jack crying, his sobs ringing in your ears in a piercing and terrified way that had you trying with all you had to turn around in your seat to get to him.

Sharp pain shot through your entire right side, making you black out again, the sound of your name being screamed in the petrified and pained howls of your nephew the last thing you could comprehend.

A nauseating grogginess filled you as you slowly opened your eyes, hearing the low hum of a machine and a soft, but incessant beeping that seemed to come from everywhere around you at once, the recollection of the accident barrelling to the forefront of your delayed mind as panic and worry threatened to make you ill.

"Hey, hey, you're alright," Pete's soothing voice greeted you, the worry in his blue eyes as he stood beside your bed outshining the look of comfort he was attempting to give you.

"Jack?" you croaked, looking at him desperately, immediately needing the answer to the question you couldn't even form.

"He's fine," he assured, his long fingers wrapping over your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Just a bit banged up and scared, but he's good as."

Pete smiled gingerly at you as your body sank back into the bed, hot tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably, the relief you felt battling against the guilt and fault that filled you at having put your nephew in danger.

"'S alright…" he cooed, a pain filling his eyes at seeing you hurt and upset, his thumbs carefully moving up to your face to wipe away your tears that ran through the dry blood speckling your skin.

Your head tilted into his palm, embracing the closeness and warmth of him, feeling yourself calm slightly as he brought his forehead down to rest against yours, his exhale blowing on your lips that were wet from the stream of tears making you let out your own steadying breath.

Pete could barely stand it, the worry and heartache that grew to be ruthlessly persistent tearing through his entire body from the moment he found out about your accident, and even though he knew you were okay, it lingered with as much intensity that it had started out with.

All he could think about was how close he had come to getting everything he had dreamt of, only to have it almost be ripped away from him in a matter of seconds.

The lump in his throat threatened to give way as he sat there with you, hoping to convey everything he felt for you without actually saying it, reminding himself that you hadn't even officially established any sort of relationship.

"I'll go get Jack for you then, yeah?" he whispered, peeling himself away from you reluctantly. "He's been gunning to get in to see you."

You nodded and used your own hands to clear your tears this time, hoping you looked somewhat presentable given the circumstances and not banged up enough to scare him even more.

"Don't worry," he said with a smile, "he's already seen you through the window, refused to rest until he saw for himself that you were alright."

Pete stood from the chair that he had scooted to be as close to the bed as possible, that familiar, cheeky look appearing on his face as he added, "You're still gorgeous as ever. Plus, I think the cuts and bruises are sexy."

He winked at you before he turned and exited the room, leaving you alone for a moment that had you instantly wishing for him to be back with you.

A smile broke out on your face as you listened to them approach your room, their banter making you laugh despite it hurting to do so.

"Mate…you're mental if you think for a second that your bruises look harder than mine," Pete teased Jack.

"Nuh uh! Look at this one! And this cut needed ten stitches!" Jack bragged as he pointed to various wounds on his arms and face, his pridefulness in his injuries telling you he was truly okay.

"Yeah, yeah, tough guy," Pete jokingly waved off, opening the door to your room to let Jack burst through it at a run. He slowed when he reached you, reining in his excitement so he didn't hurt you, giving you a once-over as he tried to decide whether or not it was okay to hug you.

"Come here," you softly ordered, opening your arms to welcome his small frame.

He carefully brought his body against yours, his arms wrapping around your neck rather than your torso, burying his head into your neck where you kissed his hair and then ruffled it with your fingers, the gratitude you felt to be able to hold your sweet nephew making you choke up again.

Jack was crying too, his body moving with each sob, him answering every repeated apology that spilled out of your mouth with a squeaky 'it's okay'.

When he eventually pulled himself away from you, you looked at him with a smile, fixing his hair by brushing through it with your fingers.

"How cross is your mum with me?"

Jack laughed and shook his head, "She's not. She's been crying the whole time being so worried about you."

You nodded, knowing if you spoke that your words would come out shaky and weak, needing a moment to take in the battered face of the boy who had stolen your heart from the second he was born.

“You look like you've been scrapping with the GSE,” you complimented, watching him light up at the thought of it.

Exhaustion took over you quickly, the visit with Jack soon followed by your sister sucking what little energy you had right out of you, and once the doctor had been in to explain your injuries and their severity to you, you were completely drained.

A concussion and three cracked ribs were the worst of your wounds, the rest consisting of bumps and bruises amongst cuts that had appeared in your skin from shards of glass slicing through it, all adding up to result in you having to stay for at least another day for monitoring.

Pete came back into the room after the doctor had left, wanting to see you one more time before the last minutes of visiting hours had run up.

“How d’you feel?” he asked, taking his seat again in the chair beside you and leaning close, automatically reaching out to hold your hand.

“Tired. Sore. Overwhelmed,” you paused and looked at him seriously, “Like I was hit by a car.” You said it with a strained laugh, but it quickly died out into a sigh, the pain caused from it reminding you of what else was causing you grief. “Mostly disappointed…”

“Disappointed?” Pete echoed, his brows knitting together.

“Our date…”

He hummed, bringing your entwined hands up to his lips where he ran them over your knuckles back and forth.

“I was really looking forward to it,” you murmured, an overall sinking feeling coming over you.

“Me too,” he admitted. “But I promise you that I will make up for it a million times over once we’re able to.”

“I'll hold you to that, Mr. Dunham.”

He grinned at you confidently, shifting in his seat to sit back in it a little straighter.

“Speaking of…Jack had a lot of questions as to why I was here.”

You nodded, tucking your lip in your teeth as you looked down at your hand still being held in his. “He asked me, too.”

“So, Mr. Dunham is your boyfriend?” Jack asked with a twisted face.

“Not my boyfriend…but who I was going on the date with. We've been hanging out a bit.”

He was quiet for a minute, clearly processing the news.

"Look, Jack, if that makes you uncomfortable I don't have to see him, he's your teacher-"

“Are you gonna get married or summat?” he blurted, cutting you off.

You didn't know how to respond, your head pulsing with every thought that passed through it, the pain medication not helping you articulate things easily.

"I- no?"

Jack smiled, the awkward mix of baby and adult teeth on full display always making you love to see it more.

"I'd be okay with it."

Pete caught your smile as you recalled your earlier conversation, his own grin spreading out to crease his cheeks despite not knowing the reason behind yours.

“What's got you smiling like that?”

“Nothing,” you fibbed. “Just something Jack said. He's quite pleased about this.” You motioned between you and Pete with your finger, the morphine in your veins nearly making you bold enough to tell him exactly what was said.

Giving you a suspicious look, Pete was about to open his mouth and respond with what you knew would be something cheeky, only to be interrupted by a nurse knocking on the door and striding into the room on a mission.

“Visiting hours are up,” she announced, glaring at him before turning her attention back down to your chart.

Pete raised his eyebrows at her, but chose not to make any remarks, standing up with a sigh. “Right. I'll be back tomorrow then, yeah? Bust you out of here.”

He winked when the nurse shot her head up, clearly unimpressed by his intentions even if it was a joke.

“You don't have to-”

“Bollocks. Anything you need you just ring me, yeah?”

He dipped down close to you, his brilliantly coloured eyes searching your features with the same seriousness that showed in them earlier. “You sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” you said, although with little surety. “Thank you, Pete.”

The look you gave him made him want to fight in order to be able to stay with you, the memories of his own experience of being stuck and alone and in pain in this same hospital striking a nerve in him, but he knew there was nothing he could do to get his way and accepted the defeat.

“‘Course, darling,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead where he let them linger. “Get some rest, eh. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Pete stepped into the hallway and rested his back against the door after it closed behind him, shutting his eyes and exhaling a deep breath. As much as he hated being back here, having to relive every horrible moment spent confined in the small walls of the room that had been his home for many excruciating months, he would return day after day for you until you were able to be released.

He zipped his jacket up to his chin and pushed off the door, preparing himself to brace the brisk, night air when he got outside, praying you would be well enough to go home tomorrow.

It terrified him a bit to feel as strongly for you as he already did, an anxiety he hadn't ever felt so intensely settling in his chest like a knot since he got the call from Fiona that you had been in an accident, but Pete knew that he would take this worry any day as a consequence of caring for someone this much.

Steve and even the lads would probably tell him he was rushing into things, to take it slow, but after today he refused to waste another minute of the second chance he was given not letting his heart have the things it had missed out on up until now.

The sliding doors opened and he passed through them into the fresh temperature, taking a deep breath to try to rid his lungs of that medicinal, stale hospital air, instantly feeling revived despite there being various people standing outside the entrance smoking.

His body felt achy and stiff, his limp ever-present as he began walking in the direction of his flat, becoming aware of how tense he had been all day, his stress coming to show with each step.

He had to smile though, thinking of how good it was going to be when he could finally take you on that date, a million ideas of how he could spoil you rushing through his mind.

His phone rang in his pocket, making him pause in his uneven steps to pull it out to quiet the chimey ringtone, answering a call from Swill.

"Aye, aye," he answered solemnly, his usual upbeat tone absent in his greeting.

"You coming for a pint?"

Pete winced, hesitating in his answer, contemplating how he felt.

"Nah, mate, I don't think so."

"Come on! It's Friday night, you wanker. You could use a beer after today."

Pete chuckled lightly, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just knackered, mate. Gonna call it a night and try to get back to the hospital at a decent time tomorrow."

"Yeah, alright. Fi said she's going first thing and hopes to bring her home."

"I bloody hope so," Pete said quietly and mostly to himself.

"You alright, Peg Leg?" Swill asked, a rare seriousness sounding in his voice.

"Brilliant…" he huffed. "Just a bit worried, yeah?" he admitted, kicking a stone with his pristinely white trainers before he continued walking.

"Rightly so, mate. We all see how you feel 'bout 'er, clear as day."

Pete smiled despite feeling on the verge of cracking, the pressure building behind his eyes becoming too much too suddenly that he rubbed them aggressively with his finger and thumb to try to wane it away.

"She'll be alright, Pete…" Swill filled the silence, having sensed the reason behind him being so quiet.

"Yeah, she will be."

"You know where we'll all be if you change your mind, eh?"

"Yeah, mate, thanks."

"See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, cheers."

Pete let his phone snap closed and tucked it back in his pocket, the heaviness of how precious and fleeting life was weighing on him, each uneven step reminding him of the near miss he'd had to never experiencing something like this and solidifying that he wasn't about to let a good thing slip through his fingers.

---

Part 3

Taglist:

@stealfromthedevil @theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980 @lilac13

[laurfilijames]

Thank you for the tag Nerdie!!

I actually didn't realize that Spotify had this little feature and now I'm going to be sure to check it out more often!

The Daylist today is titled 60s trippy rock Tuesday morning ✌️☮️☯️

1. Under My Thumb - The Rolling Stones

2. While My Guitar Gently Weeps - The Beatles

3. Wild Horses - The Rolling Stones

4. Touch Me - The Doors

5. Like A Rolling Stone - Bob Dylan

I'm quite pleased with this selection and its existence is definitely due to all the tunes I've been listening to that help inspire my Pete Dunham fic!

No pressure tags for: @stealfromthedevil @lunar-ghoulie @maggiemayhemnj @middleearthpixie @sotwk and anyone who is interested in checking it out!

Spotify Daylist

I was tagged by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Da Rules: Go to Spotify, search for “your daylist”, and share the unhinged title of the playlist and 5 songs from the playlist (since it’s got recommended tracks in there I’ll let y’all pick).

Lo-fi beats coffee house late night

Redbone - LAV8

C.R.E.A.M - golden era

Peaches - lokash

Under the Bridge - owlh

Violets - Hologram Tiger

The songs are very chill. Entire surprised they didn’t kill me to sleep. 😴

No pressure tags: @laurfilijames @musings-of-a-rose @rhoorl @goodwithcheese @megamindsecretlair @saturn-rings-writes @agentjackdaniels @yorksgirl

[laurfilijames]

Even When...

Pairing: Pete Dunham x reader

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: The flu. Mention of lack of appetite/nausea/eating. Taking aspirin. Small reference to sex. Some kissing and cuddling.

Summary: Pete gets home from work to find you sick with the flu.

A/N: I've been battling the flu all blasted week and would really love some Pete cuddles right now, so yeah, this is for me to escape and feel better. He is my official comfort character 💗

---

Pete confidently jogged up the steps of the dimly-lit stairwell two at a time, whistling the tune of ‘I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles’ as he went.

Even though his flat was nothing worth bragging over, he was always happy to come back to it at the end of the day, especially knowing you would be walking through the door only a couple hours after him once your workday was done.

He fished his keys out of the pocket of his jacket and quickly unlocked the door, still whistling as he pushed it open and walked through.

He abruptly stopped as soon as he stepped inside, seeing you curled up on the sofa with a blanket disguising all of you but the top of your head. Despite him being as quiet as possible, the noise made by the latch on the door as he closed and locked it made him wince, and he glanced over his shoulder to make sure he hadn't disturbed you.

You didn't move even the slightest, and though that was his goal, he felt nothing but worry.

You had intended to go to work today, he was sure of it, thinking back to seeing you cleaning your teeth in the bathroom in nothing but one of his West Ham shirts early this morning, having seemed yourself aside from being a bit tired which he assumed was his fault by keeping you up later than normal.

Everything else in the flat appeared as it usually was as he glanced around, giving him no indication as to what was wrong, making him frown as he slowly made his way over to where you lay unmoving.

Reaching his hand out to smooth up along your side, he perched on the edge of the sofa, watching your brows knit together tightly as you started to wake up.

"Hey, love," he whispered, "what's happened?"

Your eyes slowly blinked open, your eyelids feeling so heavy, the headache that was splitting through your skull intensifying just from that.

"I'm sick," you croaked, your voice brittle and small and revealing how depleted of energy you were.

"Why aren't you in bed?" he asked, fully aware that his sofa was not at all comfortable, and even less so when feeling poorly.

"I don't want to give it to you," you explained, "I'll just sleep out here."

Pete chuckled, "Don't be daft, I'm around all those snotty kids day in and day out, my immune system is good as."

You sighed heavily, "I don't think I could even move if I wanted to."

"Right, come on," he encouraged gently, standing and removing his jacket.

He extended his hand for you to take, helping you slowly sit up, his eyes flickering over your peaky-looking features as you tried to get your bearings.

"I'm okay," you fibbed, feeling completely nauseous and dizzy as you stood.

Luckily, Pete was standing tall right in front of you, acting as a pillar of strength for you to grab onto as you swayed on unsteady legs.

Before you could register how you'd gotten there let alone protest it, you were scooped up in Pete's arms and being carried through to your bedroom, tucking your head in the crook of his neck appreciatively.

He set you down in your bed carefully, the back of his hand coming up to feel the temperature of your forehead after he had pulled the duvet up around you.

"Christ, you're on fire," he muttered.

"But I'm freezing," you whined, trying to bury yourself beneath the covers even more.

Pete frowned and exhaled heavily, wishing he could take this away from you.

He kissed your forehead and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze through the thick duvet, "Hang on, I'll be right back, yeah?"

He walked through to the bathroom, opening the cupboard door to rummage through for anything that would help, finally locating the bottle of aspirin.

Assuming you hadn't been able to eat anything, he popped a piece of bread in the toaster when he crossed through to the kitchen and filled up a glass of water, knowing the aspirin would make your empty stomach turn.

His fingers drummed impatiently as he waited for the toast to pop up, his mind racing to think of every possible thing that could help you feel better.

Finally, he made his way back to your room, setting the plate on the bedside table along with the bottle of pills and water.

"I need you to eat a bit of this," he instructed, seeing your one eye pop out from under the blankets to see what he was doing.

When you responded with a groan, he continued. "I know, love, but you need to take something for that fever and you haven't eaten all day, have you?"

You shook your head 'no', the thought of trying to keep anything down seeming like the biggest chore.

"Do what you can," he urged, taking his pillow and propping it up behind yours to make it easier for you to sit up without actually having to.

"Thanks, Pete," you spoke weakly, feeling on the verge of tears.

"'S alright, love." He leaned down and kissed you softly on the lips, then again on your forehead before walking back to the kitchen to put his work things away.

He grabbed his phone and rang up Dave, trying to think ahead of what you would want when you were actually able to eat something proper again.

"Hey, mate…yeah, good. Listen, does your Clair have any of that soup she made tucked away in the freezer? Sweet. Would you mind bringing it 'round? I'll leave the door unlocked, you can just pop it inside. You're a legend. Cheers mate…yeah, next round is on me." He laughed as Dave began giving him shit, telling him he'd believe it when he saw it, and hung up. A smile continued to dress his face as he thought how lucky he was to have such great friends who didn't think twice to help out when asked, and he knew your best friend's famous soup that you always went on about would make you happy and help give you the strength and energy to feel better when you eventually felt up to eating it.

Pete strode back to your room, lifting his jumper over his head as he walked through, giving you a nod as he set it on top of the dresser.

"How'd that go?"

You shrugged, "As good as it could, I guess."

He took the plate with the half-eaten toast on it from the bed and set it back on the nightstand, assessing you with silent worry as he unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his trousers.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"Hmm, no," you murmured, tucking yourself back into the bed as deeply as you could.

"Right," he said, "shove over."

"...Pete-"

"Nah, nah, I won't hear it," he stopped you, climbing into bed in just his boxers, his body radiating a warmth that yours severely lacked.

You immediately curled up against him, wedging yourself as tightly as you could to him, smiling faintly into the side of his chest when he wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

"Comfy?" he asked, his lips moving against the top of your head when he spoke.

"Mmm, yeah."

You closed your eyes and breathed him in, feeling marginally better just by having him with you, the feel of his warm skin against yours bringing a bit of life back to you.

"I'm sorry you're sick, darling," he whispered, shifting slightly so he could kiss the side of your face.

"Pete, seriously, I don't want to get you sick," you moaned, though through a smile.

"Seriously, I'll be fine," he mocked, making more of a point by kissing every part of your face that he could until he landed on your lips. His hand reached up to cradle your cheek, continuing to kiss you tenderly until you forgot for a moment that you were sick at all.

"Let's get you better, yeah?" he vowed, his blue eyes filled with a mix of concern and hope as he searched your features.

You flashed him another weak smile as he let his fingers linger on your cheek, trailing down so his thumb rested on your bottom lip.

"I love you," he said, his tone serious.

You looked up at him, the urge to kiss and touch every part of him overwhelming and making you feel more frustrated that you were ill. "Even when I'm poorly?"

"Even when you're poorly," he smiled.

"I love you, too, Pete."

Tucking your head back into the space between his chest and his neck, you settled in against him, thankful to have such a sweet and caring Hooligan in your life to help look after you.

"Get some sleep, love," he hummed, his soothing words trailing off to allow you to focus on the sound of his calm breathing and steady, assured heartbeat.

---

Part 2

Taglist:

@stealfromthedevil @theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980

[laurfilijames]

Even When...

Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Pete Dunham x reader

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: Nudity. Mentions of a fever/the flu. Swearing. Mentions of alcohol.

Summary: Pete continues to look after you while you're sick, but with a match on tonight, you convince him that it's fine he goes to the pub to watch it with his mates.

A/N: Yes, I am this bitch and write myself comfort fics when I'm sick because why wouldn't you?!

---

Pete smiled when he heard the door to the flat open and close quietly again, knowing it was Dave following through on his soup delivery, and he would make sure he kept his own word in buying him his next round, or two, the next night they were down at The Abbey.

He didn't feel much like sleeping, it was still early after all, but he was more than content to lay in bed holding you, keeping a close eye on you as your body worked hard to fight off this bug that was unfairly plaguing you.

His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten anything other than the sarnie he scarfed down at lunch, and despite being hot from the amount of heat you were giving off from your fever, he stayed put.

After a few minutes, he stuck his leg out from under the covers that was closest to the edge of the bed, getting some relief from the cooler air in the room, and he reached his hand up that was wrapped around you to feel your forehead.

"Fucking Christ," he muttered, concerned with how much you were burning up.

Your skin was clammy and damp, and he tossed the duvet off of you to let some of the heat out.

"Shh, shh, you're alright," he spoke, the sudden change in temperature making you stir and whine.

You had a hoodie on, and even though he knew you would be sweating, Pete slipped his hand up under it to confirm.

"Alright, come on," he said, moving off the bed, "we need to get you in the shower, you're overheating."

He guided you up to sit on the edge of the bed and leaned down to kiss your head. "Wait here a tick, alright?"

You reluctantly opened your eyes, the pain showing in them breaking his heart, and slowly nodded yes.

As quickly as he could, he scooted through the living room to grab the soup from the door and stuck it in the fridge before running into the bathroom to get the shower running. He set two towels down on the sink so they'd be handy to grab afterward, and slipped out of his boxers as he made his way back to your room.

"Right, c'mere," he cooed, grabbing the edge of your hoodie and whisking it up over your head, reminding him how he undressed you similarly last night, only in a very different context.

"Hang on to me," he instructed, giving you a moment to wrap your arms around his neck as he lifted you off the mattress and carried you through the flat to the bathroom.

Stepping carefully into the shower, he continued to hold you until you got used to the temperature of the water, standing directly under the showerhead with you until your tight grip on his neck loosened slightly.

"You alright?" he asked, leaning his head back slightly to try to see your face.

You nodded, "Yeah, I think so."

"Right, easy now," he coaxed, slowly letting you down to stand on your own. His arms wrapped securely around your body, allowing you to lean on him completely without risk of falling, knowing you were using what little energy you had to keep yourself upright.

Your head rested against his chest, feeling the water run down your skin and his hands smooth up and down your back in a calming pattern, the surety emanating off of him giving you enough strength to make you feel like you could stay like that for hours.

The water was somehow perfect, not too hot or cold, and as you stood under its stream, you felt even more comforted as Pete slowly began to sway on the spot.

"How do you feel?" he asked after a few minutes of quiet other than the soothing sound of water.

"Hmm, better," you spoke, your voice still tired, peeling your face away from his chest to glance up at him with a weak smile.

"You want to stay here for longer?"

"Maybe a little bit," you admitted, burying your face against him again, your cheek landing on his West Ham crest tattoo that decorated the space over his heart.

"Long as you want, love."

You smiled against his skin when he kissed your head and continued to gently move with you, letting your fingertips ghost in circles on his back in a way you hoped silently conveyed your appreciation.

It wasn't clear exactly how long you had stayed there for, but eventually you sighed and pressed a kiss to his chest, "Okay, I think I'm ready now."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nodded, your head moving against him.

Your body followed his movement as he reached forward and flicked the taps off, extending his arm even further to grab one of the towels to wrap around both of you at once. Outstretching his arms, he put it around his back and shoulders and then captured you in a tight hug again, pulling you against his warm, solid torso firmly.

His lips met with your forehead, seemingly unable to kiss it enough, and part of you wondered if it was a way for him to test your fever without being obvious.

Rubbing the towel gently over your tender skin to dry each drop of water, Pete worked quickly to ensure you wouldn't get cold now that you were out of the shower, and once satisfied, he unfolded the dry towel still sitting on the sink and covered you with it before wrapping the now-wet one around his waist.

"You're too good to me, Pete," you praised, watching a slightly bashful smile grow on his face.

"Nah, love, it's what we do," he explained, "You'd do the same for me."

You laughed lightly, "I wouldn't be carrying you!"

"What?" he said in mock offense. "You'd better!"

His laugh automatically made you do the same, and like he was relieved to hear it, he cupped your face and looked at you adoringly before leaning in to kiss you.

Parting from your lips, he took a long breath to calm himself, "Right, back to bed then, eh?" he whispered, his thumbs grazing your cheeks in languid back and forth motions while he rested his forehead on yours.

Tucked up in your bed together again, you were so close to drifting off to sleep when you abruptly opened your eyes, remembering Pete having said something about West Ham playing tonight.

"Isn't there a match tonight?"

Pete sighed, sounding as if he was about to fall asleep himself. "Hmm, yeah."

"You should go."

"'S alright, I can miss it."

"No, go. I don't want to keep you from it, you've already done enough," you insisted, tilting your head to glance up at him from your position on his chest.

He contemplated it for a minute, feeling torn what to do.

"I can't let you just lay here with me all night doing nothing and miss the game, you'll have a much better time at the pub."

You had already heard his phone buzzing over and over with text messages in the time since exiting the shower, more likely than not all from the lads, and now it was ringing, the chimey ringtone of 'I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles' carrying through the flat.

"Pete…"

"Alright, alright," he said to appease you, sitting up and stepping out of bed. "I'll go, but if you need anything," he stressed, his eyebrows raising high on his forehead, "you call me immediately and I'll come right home."

"Promise."

"I mean it."

You settled into his spot, wanting to surround yourself in his warmth and scent and keep it with you in his absence, watching as he got dressed.

"Have a good time," you wished, smiling what you hoped was convincingly.

He must have asked you at least ten times before he left if you were sure you were going to be okay, stepping in and out of the room as he put on his jumper and fetched his wallet and keys, and doing your best to seem as well as you could, you swore each time that you would be.

Pete trotted down the flight of stairs leading to the car park, having stopped twice already to debate turning back and cursing out loud each time as he forced his feet onward. He felt guilty for leaving you when you were this ill, but you were stubborn and weren't taking no for an answer, not wanting to ruin a night of footy for him.

His phone rang again, and he paused and whipped it out of his pocket.

"What?"

"Fucking hell, Pete, calm down, yeah?" Bov said from the other end. "Have you not been getting all our texts? The games about to-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way, calm your tits."

Pete hung up without saying goodbye, taking one last look up at the flat before getting in his car and driving off.

He checked his phone at every light, making sure he didn't miss a call from you, his mind worrying and second guessing having left from the moment he stepped out the door.

The short drive to The Abbey felt long, and when he finally made his way inside, he took a deep breath to grant him the patience he needed not to be pissy toward his mates.

"Eh, there he is!"

"Hi, boys," he nodded, stopping at the bar to order a round for them all before he got comfortable at their usual table.

Dave walked over, patting him on the shoulder, "How's she doing, mate? Clair said she talked to her earlier and she's having a rough go."

"Yeah, not great," Pete confirmed, a pit forming in his stomach out of sheer guilt just by saying it out loud.

"Ahh, well we hope she gets feeling better soon. Give her our best, yeah?"

"Yeah, will do, thanks. And thanks again for dropping off that soup."

Dave winked at him before heading back to the table, leaving Pete and his growing remorse behind.

He exhaled a long breath through his mouth, his leg bouncing up and down as he rested his foot up on the bar rail while Terry filled their pints, his impatience getting the better of him. He pulled his phone out of his jeans again, thinking he might've felt it vibrate, only to feel more worry wash over him when his screen was blank.

"Hey, Terry, you don't mind bringing those 'round to the boys, yeah?"

"Sure, Pete," Terry agreed, looking at him suspiciously.

Without saying goodbye to anyone, Pete moved through the crowd and out the door, rushing to get back home in the realization he never should've left in the first place.

Taking the stairs three at a time now, Pete raced up them, his keys gripped in his hand and ready to unlock the door as soon as he reached it.

The flat was quiet and the same as when he'd left with the one lamp beside the sofa switched on to provide enough light so it wasn't totally dark, the only difference he noticed being the kettle sitting out on the counter with your mug left next to it.

The thought of you standing weak and holding onto the counter as you waited for your tea to brew made him feel even worse, and he wasted no more time in getting to you as he removed his jumper and discarded it somewhere near the chair by the telly while striding through to the bedroom.

A slight bit of relief washed over him when he saw you sound asleep in his spot, but the need to be with you and feel you in his arms became overwhelming.

As quietly as he could, he stepped out of his jeans and walked over to your side of the bed, carefully crawling under the covers where he caught a glimpse of your otherwise bare body dressed in his brown Stone Island sweater.

He settled up beside you, wrapping his arm around you to tug you closer to him, kissing your head when you sighed and let out a quiet whimper.

"It's alright, darling," he whispered. "I'm back now."

Without waking, you instinctively held onto him, curling yourself into his body, your leg slipping between his to secure yourself to him even more.

He let his lips linger on your forehead, happy to feel your temperature had regulated, and inhaled deeply, trying to breathe in every part of you that he could.

"I'm sorry I left," he spoke against your skin, his hands giving you a reassuring squeeze as he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of your soft breaths fanning out on his chest.

---

Taglist:

@stealfromthedevil @theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980

[laurfilijames]

One quick ask - will we ever see Jay Mills again? You left Deadfall on such a great cliffhanger. Don't get me wrong all your stories are wonderful but there's something about that character, poor guy got the shit end of the stick in the movie. Your story is really well written!!

I adore all your stories and eagerly look forward to your posts, you're an amazing writer! I have Breathe Bookmarked it's just that good!

Hiya!! 💗

Thank you so much for coming and asking about this status of my Jay series Fallout!

You absolutely will be seeing more of him, so please don't worry! It's difficult for me to work on more than one thing at a time, and my current focus is completing Breathe.

Fallout is one of my favourite things I've ever written, so knowing you're interested in seeing it continue means so much! Sadly, it doesn't get many bites from other people, and when I had put out a poll to gauge what my readers were most interested in, Jay lost to Will. When Breathe is finished I will either continue working on Fallout or my Pete Dunham series Like My Dreams, another equally unpopular fic.

I agree that Jay got the shit end of the stick in that movie which is why I decided to write this story in the first place! I think he's a complex character who has so much potential and it's been a joy (and thrill 🥵) to explore all of it. The smut in this series has been some of the filthiest I've written and I am looking forward to getting back to it and mix things up.

Thank you a million times for adoring everything I put out and being excited for more, and for your lovely compliments on my writing 🥹💗 I'm so touched that you've bookedmarked Breathe as well! This makes my heart so so happy and you're helping to motivate me to return to Mr. Mills sooner than later!

All the love, whoever you are 😘💗💗💗💗

This man 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

[laurfilijames]

Part 2 of Like My Dreams is written and just needs to be edited! Hoping to find some motivation to get it done and out to you!

Pete Dunham (Green Street Hooligans)

Like My Dreams

Intro Part 1

Even When...

Part 1 Part 2

[laurfilijames]

fic authors self rec! when you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. (if you feel like it, no pressure.) spread the self-love 💖

Hiya!!! Thank you so much for sending this to me! I always love these asks and I think it's so important to encourage self-promotion and love for our own stories 💗

5. Bulletproof (Jax Teller x female reader, one-shot) I love this one because it shows a softer side of Jax I wish we got to see more of. He's vulnerable and realizes the fragility of life in this fic and makes sure his girl knows how much he loves her without saying it.

4. Breathe (Will Miller x female reader, series, on-going) Ahhh my baby!! This story started it all in my endeavours of writing for Charlie's characters. I wasn't sure how far I was going to go with this fic when I started it, but now the plot has grown since the initial idea and I'm excited to continue it. It's getting a little angsty at the moment, but I always make sure Will gets his happy ending.

3. Easy Access (Will Miller x female reader, one-shot but I'd like to write a second part for it) This fic was so fun to write. The thought of this still makes me shiver and I would sell my soul to have this be real life. Will is happy and laughing and having the time of his life and I think we all need more of that for him.

2. Fallout (Jay Mills x female reader, series, on-going) Oh Jay 🥵 This is by far the raunchiest fic I've ever written. Jay deserved more and I'm here to deliver that for him. He's an underrated character and this is an underrated fic in my opinion, but I've had a riot writing it and look forward to getting back to it soon. If anyone wants to see the filth that Laur can come up with when she doesn't hold back, this is it!

1. Like My Dreams (Pete Dunham x female reader, series, on-going) Peteeeeeeeee!!!!! My hooligan. We're completely ignoring canon here and changing his fate because I refuse to accept any of it. Pete is alive and happy and in love and is so smitten and sweet and this fic just brings me so much joy. I love immersing myself in East London and extending the story and all the wonderful characters from the film. This fic is my passion project and has my heart and soul.

[laurfilijames]

Okay this is a really random ask.

What do you imagine the middle names are for the Charlie characters you’ve written?

Ooooooo this is a really interesting one, anon!!!

I'm usually terrible at coming up with names which is why I have only ever created two OC's (one of which was named with the help of a friend and cowriter) so although it was a bit tricky, I went with my initial feelings and chose them quickly without giving myself the opportunity to overthink 🤣

Here are the full names of the beautiful Charlie characters I've posted fics for:

Jackson “Jax” Nathaniel Teller

This is actually canon so I got off easy 🤣

William “Will” John Miller

Something strong and simple suits the Captain, and it's a family name for me 💗

Peter “Pete” Francis Henry Dunham

Pete gets two. For some reason he strikes me as being given more than one and it adds to him being the leader he is. Very traditional names. And Henry would be a name that was passed down through generations of his family. Steve's second middle name is the same, as is Ben's. (Henry is another family name of mine.)

Jason “Jay” Hank Mills

I don't know why. Hank just screams classic good ol' American boy to me. His father's name is Chet... so Hank it is.

Raymond “Ray” Arthur Smith

A kingly name for a kingly man 👑 It's as regal as he is.

Thank you so much for sending in this ask! It was so fun to answer! 💗💗

[laurfilijames]

I'm nearly done editing the next chapter of my Pete Dunham fic Like My Dreams but am totally stalling and lacking motivation.

Who wants it? Show of hands!