#he looks up at the sky with tears rolling down his face just asking

[dolcekissy]

i love your work, and I was hoping / wanted to request something based off a song, i dont kno if you have heard it, but i follow someone, jus heard it and it reminded me so so so much of Rafe and having a tumultuous and borderline abusive relationship. it’s by the singer ashanti called rain on me the music video and song remind me of rafe to a T. would yoube comfortable writing a Drabble or One Shot based or similar to it? if not, it’s okay, i know DV is serious and not everyone would want to write about it. thank you!

yes i've heard of the song and watched the video, i can definitely see what you're saying. hope you enjoy!

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes unprotected sex, p in v, domestic violence, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of having a miscarriage. please read at your own risk.

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for the past four years it's been the same with rafe. arguing, hitting, fucking, loving, repeat. you met rafe six years ago, immediately feeling drawn to him and his voice, the way he spoke with confidence but also nervousness, the eye contact he tried to keep with you, the way he wasn't touchy ─ very respectful of you and your boundaries. you remember the interaction like it was yesterday, the way your cheeks flushed a light shade of pink when he joked with you ─ meeting when you were both 16 at an event his father put together for Cameron Development.

the whole night you two were inseparable, laughing and talking, sneaking alcoholic drinks when no one was looking, stealing a cigarette from behind a drunk man's ear after he dared you to ─ giggling and running up to the roof of the building to smoke it together, coughing and choking while he laughed at you and patted your back. he kissed you when you were staring up at the sky claiming the cigarette gave you a buzz, your head was dizzy from both the cigarette and his lips ─ his lips were so soft.

you and rafe couldn't be apart. always with each other, at each others houses meeting family, sneaking out of your house just to see him even though you guys hung out all day, walking to the beach just to kiss, talk, laugh, staying until the sun kissed the water ─ hurriedly running back once your phone read 7 am. he was in love and so were you, you were his other half, his missing rib. he promised to marry you as soon as you both turned 18, get you a house in tannyhill, give you a baby right after. it was unrealistic but 16 year old you couldn't help but have hearts in her eyes.

he was your first everything. your first time, your first kiss, the first person you loved. the night he took your virginity you both were shaking, sweating, nervous ─ you felt so awkward, so stiff as you both tried to figure it out. he talked you through the pain, kissing you sweetly as he whispered apologies, shakily asking if you're okay or if he should stop, telling you how much he loves you ─ kissing the tears of pain that rolled down your face, moving the hair that stuck to your forehead.

obviously it wasn't the best sex, young and inexperienced, painful and scary, foreign and different but it was with him. with rafe. the person that made life worth living. the next two years were heaven on earth, the memories you created with him were sacred, every minute you spent with him giving you understanding of your purpose here on earth ─ marry him, give him as many babies as he wants, keep the house clean, be a good wife.

it was good, he was good, always knew how to kiss it better so you didn't question it when he slapped you after a disagreement ─ quickly apologizing and kissing your cheek over and over again as you blinked, brushing it off with a shrug and a smile, "it was an accident, right?" ─ fingers tugging on his hair as he ate you out that night to show you how sorry he was, later on stuffing you full of his cock so you understand how sorry he was.

that's when the cycle began, arguing, hitting, fucking, loving, repeat. you hate yourself for not running when you were 18 and he slapped you for the first time, hate him for manipulating you into believing him, hate yourself for running down to the courthouse and getting married anyway ─ the longer you stayed with him, the worse it got. you'd argue about something stupid, he'd hit you, apologize, fuck you, then stay between your thighs until you begged him to stop.

you hate yourself for still loving him after it all ─ allowing him to make you feel like this, losing weight rapidly, your hair falling out in clumps, barely eating and drinking, depending on his mood to determine the kind of day you have ─ constantly terrified it'll get bad again, flinching every time the front door opens, greeting him with a weary smile, voice soft just in case he's in a bad mood today ─ just in case his attitude is sour enough to beat you and leave you for a few days, just to come home four days later smelling like another woman and fuck you slowly, "make love to ya.", "put a baby in ya." just so you understand how much he loves you, even if he "slaps you up." a couple of times.

it was suffocating, debilitating, humiliating but you loved him. no one would understand, no one would understand how much you miss the old him ─ they wouldn't understand that you stay with him just in case the old him might come back to you, love you as deeply as he loved you before. so yes, you'll hide the bruises and the cuts on your face and body. yes, you'll wear sunglasses to hide the black eyes. yes, you'll lie to the nurses when they ask why there's a gash on your wrist. yes, you will fucking lie and say that you lost your fucking baby due to complications and not him beating you.

yes, you'll show up no matter what to the Cameron Development events and show off the rock on your finger, flash a bright smile, place your arm over his chest while you look up at him with the same eyes he fell in love with. the same eyes that are freshly healed after his last beating.

the same eyes that will be black and blue again tonight because you were too close to a man over by the bar.

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[girl-lostconnection]

Snow is soft under his hooves, quiet creaking of it disturbing otherwise peaceful night when König shifts his weight from one leg to another.

It’s a good night. A proper night.

One that gets darker and darker with each hour, stars shining in the sky, not even moon strong enough to disperse the darkness.

He’s been waiting for some time now to get her back in his hands.

Again his, again with him.

Yeah, it’s a good night. One when he can hold her again.

König can see the glimmer of lights down in the valley, sounds of singing groups going from house to house — people are celebrating.

König knows it’s not his territory. These are not his mountains.

Even if they were — he is not working tonight. It’s her time.

Her holiday.

Melody pours in the air, clear as a tear, paper mache stars turning and turning, being carried from house to house by laughing groups of teens and children.

This night is magic.

Malanka comes just after Christmas, bringing carols and rituals, bringing signs and omens.

Giggly and girlish, she’s every girl that asks to see her future spouse in a dream, she’s every mother feeding her family, she’s every child caroling.

Malanka is so much younger than he is but somehow so much stronger. Buzzing with excitement and full to the brim with wonder, she is pure magic.

Or maybe he’s just not used to being away from his Alps.

König hums the melody of recurring carol, tree branches moving with wind above him.

Rare person might see the way his horns touch the branches. Most would just look away, blame what they saw on the play of shadows and their own imagination.

They don’t know him here. They don’t believe in him here.

He’s tall and burly, wrapped in a coat made out of goat’s hide, wooden mask of a horrific grimace on his face, horns curling.

Anywhere else he’d stood out like a sore thumb. But here?

Here are dozens dressed just like him.

König shifts his weight, rolling his shoulders and crouches down, watching passer-biers.

Even crouching he’d be taller than these teens that fool out in the snow without a care in the world.

König is big.

Big omen. Big god. Big warning.

König huffs out air, vapour escaping his nose — white hot and ephemeral — child on the other side of the road gasping at the sight of him.

Yeah, children see him better than everyone else.

He comes for them after all. He is their god.

The kid is young, wrapped up in thick winter coat, bear’s mask tugs to the side of her face, scarf red and obviously made by someone who loves her — König can sense care in every hook of it.

She grins at him before scurrying off. It’s too cold outside for someone this small. Too dark.

König breathes in and out, tasting air — magic sweet on his tongue, coating it like sugary treat.

Not a naughty child.

She behaved well this year. Good.

König stands back up, stretching in his full height — throws a coin up in the air and watches it disappear with thin ding.

Maybe the kid will find it in her tiny boot in the morning. Maybe.

After all these are not his mountains and not his people. Who knows if it will work.

Night stretches out, dances around him like a velvet ribbon, crystal charms-snowflakes of it dingling in the air.

He knows it’s not his mountains.

He also knows that Malanka is willing to share.

You on the other hand know that until 6th of January he’s in full power.

It may be not his place, but it is his time.

Melody of the carol weaves itself through the air — clear and beautiful, voices getting louder.

König can practically taste it in the wind, can feel it coating him along with snow, soaking him in cheer.

He doesn’t know the words but he knows the meaning. It’s always the same no matter how many decades pass.

It’s always hope for the better.

Night is young, darkness pooling around him, his coat heavy with goat’s hides, and it’s almost peaceful. Almost good enough for him to fall asleep.

Voices boom louder, snapping him out of trance, making him shake snow off his coat, turning his head around.

But there are no one outside.

The streets are empty.

Carol gets louder and louder looming seemingly out of everywhere, melody filled with power and joy, until it goes down to just one voice.

Languages mix, words ever changing, magic thickening.

For a moment he can almost understand it.

For a moment he’s part of it.

But it slips through his fingers and out of his mind, leaving him grasping for more, foreign magic imprinting on the tips of his claws.

Steps right behind him making snow creak.

König doesn’t turn around staying just where he is. There is no one else who’d be able to come this close.

König will let her have her fun.

There’s dingling of the bells, carol circling around him, cheerful giggling getting closer.

She’s never in a rush, drunk on cherry liquor and her people’s love.

A well-fed god is a powerful god.

Her ribbons wrap around his arms and throat, get tangled in his furs, pull him back deeper in the woods. Lead him.

He lets her.

It’s her night after all.

“Вий��и-вийди господарю,

Подивися на кошару”

The voice fills his ears, snow falling and falling, his coat more white than the usual dark — dusted with silver, frost painting incredible patterns over him.

“В тебе товар весь хороший

Будеш мати мірку грошей”, is now even closer, breath of winter sending shivers down his spine, everything in him thrilling — old magic feeding him.

She is feeding him.

“Хоч не гроші, то полова

В тебе жінка чорноброва“

Your hands wrap around his shoulders, bells at the tips of your goat horns swaying with the wind that’s picking up.

König doesn’t understand what it is you just breathed out, but whatever it was you seem awfully pleased.

Eyes shining and warm when you look at him, your ribbons soft on his skin.

You are different every time — tall and tiny, goat-headed and human, monstrous and impossibly beautiful.

You are winter and cheer, you are endings and hope.

You are the start of the start.

“Having fun, Schatz?”, König breathes out, head tilting so you can pull off his mask, runes on your face shining.

You are shining.

“Christmas is here, I’m bringing good cheer”, you muse practically in a sing-song, your eyes crinkling when he pulls you closer, perching on his forearm.

Your coat is big and warm, fur of it long and white, tickling his face a little. It was a beautiful goat before you started wearing it.

“Have you been good this year, meine Liebe?”, König is dusted with snow and heavy with furs, uncovered cheeks now pink from winter winds.

Instead of answering you kiss both of his cheeks, grin widening when he rumbles softy, tilting his head from side to side so you can do this again.

You are his favourite night.

You are his loveliest holiday.

“You look good”, praise slips off your tongue easily, vowels rolling with the remnants of your people’s language, carrying the memory of carols. Your carols.

“You feed me well”, he’s never this soft with anyone but you. Always with you.

König’s horns are heavy, that’s what he tells himself as he leans his head closer to yours, silently asking for another kiss.

Your lips press it to his forehead, smile warm against his skin.

It’s blissful for a fraction of a moment — perfect and sweet.

Then his whole body gets rocked with a shiver, warm foreign runes bleeding off your face onto him, wrapping around his horns.

A blessing.

“Merry Christmas, happy New Year and happy holidays”, you breath out — eyes shining and laughter bubbling.

Cheeky little thing. Filling him up, making him comfortable, making him stronger.

König presses his nose to your cheek for a moment, before he huffs air out — vapor hotter, his whole body uncurling, his horns (all three pairs) longer and hooves heavier — he’s taller now. Big enough to cover miles with a single step.

“Ready to go, Göttin?”

You grin, perched comfortably on his shoulder, bells on your horns singing in the air.

“Yeah, I’m done. We can go home”

König hums, turning around, shadows wrapping around his ankles, your ribbons tickling his cheeks.

It’s time to bring his pretty wife home. It’s time to celebrate properly.

“Then off we go, Schatz”

[julesart04]

[jeonginsleftcheek]

All on board

~ thanks @furioussheepluminary for fueling my fantasy🫠🫶🏻

pairing: pilot!hyunjin x stewardess!reader

genre: filthy smut

wc: 1.1k

warnings: degradation, reader is called slut and bitch, hyunjin is called sir, face fucking, unprotected sex, fingering, spanking, pussy slaps, creampie, cum eating, hair pulling

a/n: pls i tried i had one hell of a day sorry if there are mistakes or if this is not very good😭🫠 also i've never written mean dom so djkdlcl

~ masterlist

Working as a stewardess for a big airline definitely had its perks. Like traveling all over the world, the exciting feeling of being so high up in the sky and well...

"Miss l/n, could you come to the flight deck, please?" your pilot's voice rang out, a shiver running down your spine as you bit your lip with a smile.

"Yes, Sir?" you followed his voice to the front of the plane, blinking your eyes innocently at him.

Yes, another perk of being with this airline was Hyunjin. Maybe even the biggest perk according to you.

"I need to perform the preflight inspection." he smirked at you and you giggled as you walked closer to him.

You knew what that meant of course, this wasn't the first nor the last time you were doing this.

"Of course." you said. "Sir." you added as he lifted his brow at you, his eyes traveling all over your body.

You stood in front of him and started unbuttoning your blazer, followed by your blouse, revealing a sweet white lacy bra adorning your breasts.

Hyunjin's face flushed and his pants started to get tighter but he kept looking at you sternly, trying to hold in the need to just kiss you stupid.

You bunched up your skirt, showing him the matching panties underneath.

"Good, good. Let's see." he smirked, coming closer to you, his fingertips on your inner thigh. He slowly moved them up towards your core, pressing them into the wet patch that has already appeared on them.

"For me? Aren't you an eager little slut, hm?" he leaned over you, making you whimper as he tapped your clit with his fingers.

"Yes I am, Sir." you confirmed and he smirked.

"I know baby, that pussy is already crying to be stuffed." he chuckled and you whined a little, becoming desperate to be touched.

Hyunjin unbuttoned his white pants before pushing them down together with his underwear.

"Come on. Get me wet, slut." he ordered.

"Yes, Sir." you whined as you got down on your knees.

"Open your mouth." he grabbed his cock and you did as you were told.

Hyunjin smacked your tongue with his tip a few times before pushing it in and your eyes rolled back as you took it.

"Yes, like that." he groaned when you started bobbing your head up and down. He grabbed at your head, ruining the tidy bun you had put your hair in.

You moaned around him as he gripped you harder, fucking into your mouth as you gagged.

"I know you love choking on it." he smirked and fucked your face harder, every time his tip hit the back of your throat you gagged, tears rolling down your cheeks as you grabbed at his thighs.

Your nails dug into his skin as he moaned, fucking you even faster as his hips snapped.

"Fuck!" he whined, pulling out before he could cum.

"Get up." he almost growled and you obeyed immediately, standing up and turning around so you can bend over the chair he'll be sitting in soon.

He chuckled behind you, pushing your panties to the side. Your breath got caught in your throat as you anticipated his fingers on your folds, instead your pussy got slapped.

You yelped, your legs trembling as he chuckled again.

"Louder, bitch." he said lowly before slapping your pussy again and you moaned louder.

"Who owns this pussy?" he asked, slapping you again.

"You, Sir, you own it." you whimpered as he slapped your throbbing pussy once more.

"That's right. It's only mine to play with." he said before plunging two fingers inside you, making you yelp again. He spanked your ass as a warning to stay still before he started fucking you with his fingers, scissoring them to prep you for his cock.

"Ah! H-Hyunjin!" you moaned and he let out a little laugh as he pushed into your sweet spot.

"What did you call me?"

"Sir! I'm sorry!" you cried, fresh tears falling down your cheeks as he started spanking your ass.

You gripped onto the chair, whimpering loudly as he assaulted your ass and fucked you with his fingers at the same time.

"I-I can't!" you moaned out, you couldn't hold it in as you squirted all over his fingers and your thighs.

"I didn't give you permission to cum." he growled as you cried, your heart beating hard against your chest.

"I'm so sorry for disappointing you, Sir." you said quietly.

"Oh, you'll be sorry, bitch." he smirked as you braced yourself. He gripped his cock and pushed it into your pussy forcefully, making you take his entire length in one thrust.

"Ah!" you screamed out as he started pounding into you hard immediately, rattling your entire body with the force of his hips.

"You're getting too loud." he frowned, gripping your hair and pulling you up as you arched your back for him. He brought his other hand to your lips and pushed the fingers he fucked you with into your mouth.

You moaned around them, tasting your release on them as you started sucking and licking at them.

"Don't you dare cum. If you do, I won't breed this little pussy." he smirked evilly, knowing that this was your favorite part.

You whimpered around his fingers as he gripped your hair harshly, fucking into you sloppily. Your pussy was so wet and overstimulated and you just wanted to cum again so badly but you knew the consequences so you tried holding it in.

Hyunjin decided to taunt you even more as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and brought them to your sensitive clit.

"Fuck!" you whimpered.

"Hold it in." he ordered and you could hear the teasing smirk in his voice.

It took everything in you not to cum, just so you could feel him explode inside you and fill you up with his warm cum.

"Mm, take it." he moaned under his breath as he finished inside you.

Hyunjin pulled out, replacing his cock with his fingers as he gathered some cum and brought it to your lips.

"Taste." he said and you licked around his fingers, looking straight into his eyes.

"You did well." he smirked.

"Thank you, Hyunjin. Sir." you chuckled.

"I'll let it slide this once." he teased, leaning in to kiss you.

"Thank you for being so kind." you teased back.

"Let's clean up, we have a plane to fly." he wiggled his eyebrows at you before kissing you again, as always he was addicted to your lips just like you were addicted to him.

Yes, flying with your boyfriend definitely had its perks.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143

[shadowwfoxx]

Hurt

Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: Logan takes care of you when you get hurt. fluff. Logan is a softie just for you.

You and Logan were supposed to have a romantic picnic date at the park. That plan was quickly ruined once you looked outside the window and saw dark and angry clouds surface the sky. Not too long after that, the thunderstorm had started. 

Since the weather was so shitty you and Logan decided to stay in, watch a movie, and have him spend the night. You also threw in that you would make him your famous pasta dish that he absolutely loved.

Your apartment felt extremely warm and cozy compared to the storm unfolding outside. You were in your kitchen stirring the pasta to ensure it didn’t burn at the bottom. Logan insisted on helping you but you didn’t allow him, telling him to sit and relax. He was on the couch nursing a beer while watching the football game, looking over his shoulder a few times to check on you. 

The blaring sound of the timer for the pasta went off. You turn off the timer before going to turn off the stovetop. You then grab your pasta strainer and place it in the sink. You grab the two handles of the pot, pick it up, and walk over to the sink to strain the water. 

Just as you were tilting the pot, a huge flash of lighting, followed by the loudest rumble of thunder you’ve ever heard struck. Startled, you swing your head to the side to look out your living room window, the trees outside swaying harshly. Your lights then flicker a few times, your TV shutting off in the process. You hear Logan curse under his breath. 

No longer focused on what you are doing, you tilt the pot full of boiling water further down without realizing it. A huge amount of hot water escapes the pot and comes into contact with the inside of your arm. 

“Fuck!” You hiss, immediately dropping the pot in the sink, making a loud bang when it drops. The pasta spills all at the bottom of it. You groan, and hold your other hand over the burn, trying to relieve the pain spreading throughout your arm. Tears now threatening to spill.

“What happened?” Logan asks, his voice rough and demanding. He is quick to be by your side, his hand warm on the small of your back. 

“I-I burned myself with the pasta water.” You whine, squeezing your eyes shut. Tears start to roll down your face. You were never someone to have such a good tolerance for pain. Logan rubs up and down your back soothingly.

“Let me have a look baby,” He says softly but firm, guiding you to face him. You slowly move your hand that was covering your burn, wincing at the pain. 

Logan holds your arm out, inspecting your wound. “You got yourself good huh bub.” All you do is sniffle.

He guides your arm to the sink, turning on the cold water and letting it pour on your burn. You hiss at the relief and pain it was providing you. 

“I know, I know.” He whispers. He kisses the top of your head while still holding your arm underneath the water. His other arm rubs up and down yours.

“Keep it under the water okay? I’m gonna get some bandages.” The warmth of his body disappears from behind you. You hear him rummage through the bathroom cabinet, groaning when random pill bottles fall on the floor. After a few minutes, you hear his footsteps behind you. He reaches from behind you to turn off the water. 

“Let me fix you up bub.” He grabs your hand, leading you to the couch. He sets his stuff down on the coffee table before taking a seat on the couch. Logan puts a hand on your hip to guide you to sit across his lap. He cleans your burn and wraps it in a bandage. You don’t even notice how you’re still silently crying. 

“Why the tears princess? Hm?” Logan squeezes your thigh. You haven’t made eye contact with him yet, still upset. “Hey look at me.” His hands going under your chin. You finally meet his gaze.

“Cause everything is ruined.” Your bottom lip trembles. “Our picnic date, dinner, and now my stupid arm.” You let out a shaky breath, trying not to cry more. 

“Hey hey, nothing’s ruined. C’mere.” He turns you to straddle his lap. He wraps his muscular arms around your body for a hug, putting one hand on your head cradling it. “We still have that movie to watch. How ‘bout that?” His voice was low and raspy. You nod, looking at him.

He wipes your tears before giving you a peck on the lips. He gives your butt a light tap signalling you to stand up. You stand up as Logan moves to lie down on his side. You lie in front of him, his arm wrapping around you immediately to pull you close to his body. Maybe it wasn’t all ruined after all.

[cherrynflowergarden]

quiet || matt sturniolo

an; tysm my lovies for participating in the 500 celebration!! i saw your asks but unfortunately tumblr is acting up and now i can't see them:( smut alert!!! minors dni

the lewd sound of skin slapping filled the room as matt pounds into her tight hole. he leans over her, intensely watching her become a drooling babbling mess. eyes rolled back, drooling from the mouth and moans leaving her mouth like a broken record, she looked like heaven to him.

"shh sweetheart" he coos, griping her chin with a hand forcing her to make an eye contact with him, while his other arm supported his weight. lips nibbling and sucking on her pulse point he whispers, "be quiet f'me, yeah?"

he generally enjoys listening to her moans. makes his ego sky rocket knowing he makes her feel so good. but today his brothers were home and very much awake. the chances of getting caught are high and he can't risk it. if his brothers find him in such a compromising position, he would never hear the end of it. but that didn't stop him from taking her to the bed. the thrill of getting caught just made him hornier, his cock throbbing in her warm cunt — coating him with her juices.

she could barely hold her moans in. feeling the drag of his thick cock, in her walls, dick hitting her spots roughly and so easily made her loose her mind.

"i— fuck i can't icanticanticant" she babbles incoherently. whimpers escaped her mouth, cheeks wet with tears, back arched and hips moving upwards to match his thrusts. she looked beautiful like this, under him — at his mercy. a slow smirk made it's way to his face at her response. his fingers which were groping her tits, went to her neck. roughly pressing his palm around her neck, he violently slammed into her.

"you can't, huh?" his hand left her neck to grip her hips — in order to keep her in place. "you can't keep fucking quiet, huh? making you feel so good?"

a loud moan left her throat, despite her attempts to be quiet. it's not her fault though, he makes her feel sooo good. the tingling feeling in cunt was too overpowering to remain quiet, all she could do is nod her head, a silent answer to his previous question.

apparently matt didn't seem to like her silence because a loud smack was heard in the room. he had slapped her breast. he needed to listen to his girl say that. "answer me princess or did i fuck you too dumb to form a sentence?" his condescending tone only brought her to the edge, the coil in her belly tightening.

"feels—... feels so good, matt" she whimpered out, eyes rolling back in pleasure. her hand went to his hairs to tug on them. the pull on his hairs did it for him as reached down to rub against her poor abused clit.

brows knitting together, that finally snapped the coil in her belly. following her lead, matt pulled out to cum on her belly.

gasping for air, they just hoped they weren't loud enough for his brothers to hear.

[eddiesxangel]

Angel or Devil? | E.M x Reader

Anonymous asked: Could i request a fic where reader comes home pissed off and angry fucks eddie and hes hooked on it so he keeps trying to annoy her or asks her how work was ect to get her riled up so she they can fuck each others brains out, her dirty talk gets filthy when shes mad and eddie realizes he likes it mean

wc: 2.7k

cw: f!reader/mean!reader, Sub/switch Eddie, dirty talk, sex toys, slight choking, female masturbation, pussy eating, p in v, cream pie. Slightly proofread… so if you see a spelling error no you didn’t… (ง •̀_•́)ง

Eddie’s head snapped up when the sound of the front door slamming shook him out of focus. You must have had a bad day because you never slam things.

Timidly, Eddie put his guitar down and walked out of the bedroom into your living room to see you slam your purse on the floor; you don’t bother to unzip your boots; you rip them off your feet and whip off your drenched coat. That’s also when he sees the crazed look in your eyes behind your soaked hair sticking to your face. Today was not your day.

“Sunshine-“

“Don’t,” you point a finger up at him; you don’t want to hear a word from your boyfriend right now.

“But-“

“No. Shut up.” You make your way to the bedroom to wash your rain-soaked clothes.

Eddie followed you apprehensively. His gut told him to give you space, but his heart needed to ensure his sunshine was okay.

“Eddie.” You huffed. He had followed you.

He wasn’t listening to you. That’s all you wanted was something to listen to you. Nobody had taken the time to hear you out at work, and to make matters worse, the barista messed up your order, causing you to be late for your team meeting. Then, to top it off, you missed your bus. Thinking that a walk might help clear your head, you set off, only to be interrupted by the ominous crack of thunder in the sky. Instead of tears, you felt a surge of rage building inside you. All you desired was some sense of control in a day that seemed spiralling out of your grasp.

“Baby,” Eddie cooed again, stocking the back of your soaked hair.

You huffed in annoyance again. He wasn’t listening, so you decided to push him down in the bed.

“Woah, baby, I’m sorry-“

You cut him off as you climbed on top of him and shut him up with a kiss. Maybe now you could be in control.

With eyes wide, Eddie didn’t know what to do, but as you gripped at his clothes, signalling to get naked, he soon realized.

Eddie didn’t understand where this came from, but who was he to question? His lady needs to take out her frustration on him and who was he to deny her? He was just but a humble servant.

“You’re taking too long,” you groan, sitting up and taking off your soaked clothes.

“It’s okay, baby, I got you. Don’t worry, Teddy will make it better.”

“God, do you always talk this much? Shut up and eat my pussy”

Eddie was stunned. His eyes were wide, yet your words went straight to his cock. You never spoke to him this way before, but he liked it. He liked you a little mean.

“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes, and you give him the biggest eye roll Eddie couldn’t miss; he moaned as he connected his lips with your pussy.

With a hand gripped tightly in his hair, he was determined to make you cum asap. He had to service his girl; you demanded it. It was the sexiest thing Eddie had ever been witness to… not that you weren’t sexy every other time, but something had been unlocked in Eddie’s brain, and he didn’t want to give it up.

A feral groan leaves your throat, and Eddie can’t help but moan once again into your pussy, knowing it drives you crazy.

Your hips are grinding into his face. Usually, he would have you pinned down, but having you use him solely for your pleasure was getting Eddie off just as much.

Within minutes, you were falling apart on Eddie’s tongue and fingers. Your body shook beneath him, and you finally felt some relief.

“There you go, baby. That's it, let it go.”

With a deep sigh, you get up and walk to the bathroom without a word.

Eddie was stunned. You used him …and he liked it.

When you got out of the shower, it was like you were a different person, like the rage demon was fucked right out of you, and you had forgotten how angry you were and also how you had just left Eddie to take care of himself.

You came out, giving Eddie a big hug and a kiss like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. You told him about your day while he cooked you dinner and spent the evening snuggling on the couch.

It’s been two weeks since you stormed home that evening, and Eddie was doing everything in his power to get you to retake control, but you were not biting.

He got excited when you would make a move first, but then you fell into old habits, and he would be the one to take charge. So Eddie was doing everything in his power to piss you off.

He didn’t want to, but he needed to trigger that inner dominatrix that was hidden deep inside.

Lately, you couldn't figure out what had come over Eddie, but his behavior was really starting to bother you. He seemed to be constantly leaving the cupboard doors wide open, choosing to immerse himself in video games instead of addressing household chores. Despite promising to tidy up, he never followed through. His socks and underwear were strewn across our shared bedroom floor, and on top of everything, he seemed to be avoiding any meaningful conversation during dinner.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” You glare at him, as he doesn’t even signal that he heard you.

You've had enough of this immature behavior. You don’t understand why you're being ignored, but you've reached your limit.

“Eddie!” You slam your fork down on the table, and finally, he looks at you.

You quickly stand up, and the chair screeches against the parquet flooring. Eddie’s big brown eyes grow wider and darker as you approach his side of the table.

This was it, he thought; he’d cracked the code.

“What is your problem?” Your hands were on your hips. He thought you looked so cute when you tried being all authoritative.

“Dont know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” Eddie shrugged nonchalantly.

“Excuse me?”

“You have something to say, baby? Come on, tell me.” His tone was condescending and taunting.

“Eddie, I’m serious.”

“So. Am. I.” He stands, getting closer with each word. He towers over you, but you don’t care; you’re too pissed off to be intimidated.

“What is your problem!” You scream.

“I don’t have a problem, sweet thing.” He shrugs, his voice cool as a cucumber.

This only pissed you off further. He was so good at pushing your buttons, and you were falling for it unknowingly.

Your face was scrunched up and he thought it was the cutest thing he couldn’t help but hide a smirk and you caught it.

“You want to try that again?” you ask. Your faces were centimetres apart, and he could smell the fire brooding within you.

Hook, line, and sinker.

God, you were infuriated with him, but you never wanted him more badly than right now. You act on instinct and flung yourself at him. Wrapping your arms around him and kissing him harshly, so much so your lips would be bruised by the time you’re done with him.

“There she is”

“Shut up.” Your hands are all over one another, and Eddie is reeling from your actions. Finally, his little minx had come out to play.

You forced your way over to the living room, not ever breaking the kiss until you pushed Eddie off of you and down onto sofa.

“Tell what you want; I’m yours to use.” he smiles, and you can see the mischief in his eyes.

“Is that what this was all about?” you scan his body, his hard cock prominent in his sweatpants. “You like it when I’m mean?” You’re annoyed still but also turned on. Your Eddie likes it when you’re in control.

A wave of excitement washes through you at the realization that all of this was actually to get your attention.

“You like when I dom you, Teddy? Is that it?” Your voice sickly sweet as you run your hands up his thighs until you reach the crease of his hips but don’t go any further, only teasing him more.

“Yes,” he nodded his head rapidly.

A rush of arousal floods your panties.

“Good boy.”

Eddie throws his head back and reaches to palm his cock, but you swat his hand away.

“No,” you stay stern. “This is my cock”

Eddie’s head snapped back up, and you could see in his eyes that he liked your words.

“Who’s cock does this belong to?” You ask as your hand slinks down into his pants, gripping at the base.

“Me.” He smirks. He wants you to be meaner.

“Okay,” you say, standing up and walking away.

“Okay?” Eddie is dumbfounded as you leave him alone on the couch. It takes a few seconds before he gets up to follow you into the bedroom, where he sees you’re pulling out your dildo.

“What are you doing?” He asks, disappointed that you left him.

“Since you don’t think I own your cock, I’m going to use the one I bought to get me off instead.” You shrug before stripping down fully and spreading your legs open to play with yourself in front of Eddie.

“Fuuuuuuuuck, baby.” Eddie came crawling, but you stopped him with an outreached foot to his forehead.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked with a raised brow.

“Oh-I uh-“

“oh, you uh,” mocked back, and Eddie didn’t think he could get any harder.

“You are going to sit back over there and watch only, like a good little boy. If you touch yourself, I stop.”

“Baby! What? No, that’s so mean,” He pouts.

“You wanted to mean, baby; you’re getting mean.”

Eddie bit his fist and sat back obediently; never in his wildest dreams did he think you would be so confident in this newfound role.

You spread open your legs and work your fingers through your slick folds, not breaking eye contact. You can’t help but smirk when you bring the dildo to your lips, putting on a show by sucking and drowning the head with your saliva, showing exactly what you would have done to Eddie if he had complied earlier.

You hear a throaty moan from Eddie as you watch his face scrunch and his fists tighten into balls as if he were in physical pain from watching you. The way you pop the toy off your lips and slowly drag it down to your weeping hole had Eddie’s cock twitched.

You finally break eye contact when you watch yourself insert the dilo into your wet pussy before you let your head fall back into the pillow.

“Oh yes!” your hips gyrate into your thursts as you put in a show for Eddie.

You exaggerate, for Eddie’s sake. Of course, it would never feel as good as him, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You evil woman”

You snap your eyes back to Eddie and smirk.

“Fuck it feels so good!” “God it’s just so big” “yes yes yes!”

Moan after moan of pleasure leaves your lips as your free hand explores your breast, squeezing it and playing with your nipple before moving down to your clit.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to run through your body; having Eddie watch you, at your mercy, was enough to fuel the orgasm, let alone the thick, veiny pink dildo that was spreading you wide open, hitting you just right with each pump.

Your pussy clamps down onto the dildo that’s deep inside of you, cuming all over it as you shake with pleasure. You don’t even hear Eddie moan as he bites his fist, trying so hard to behave and listen to your orders.

Your cum floods out of you as you slowly pull it out with a pop.

“Come here and clean it up,” You demand, and Eddie dives head first to your pussy, but you quickly close your legs, and Eddie pouts those beautiful full pink lips at you.

“This first,” You smirk, handing him the dildo you just used that’s coated in your cum.

Eddie’s eyes go wide in shock, but he takes the toy and places it in his mouth. His eyes roll back at the taste of you, and he licks and deep-throats it.

The thrill of watching Eddie place the used dildo in his mouth as he sucks it off only makes your pussy flood once again. Your hands play with your nipples as you slowly open your legs for him.

The second Eddie sees your knees parting, he tosses the dildo to the floor, and before you can command anything, his lips attach to your pussy in an instant.

“That’s right, you’re just a little cum slut aren’t you?” you can’t believe the words are leaving your lips, and neither can Eddie, but he ruts his hips against the mattress as the filthy words fill the room.

“I see you, baby. Can’t even wait five minutes without needing to pay attention to your cock” You try not to stutter as Eddie works his tongue inside your tight hole, cleaning up the remnants of cum. You watch as Eddie pops his ass up and down as he tries to get himself off, but you can’t have that, not yet.

“Stop,” You command, and Eddie doesn’t know what action you’re referring to, so he stops everything completely.

He looks up at you with those big doe eyes, mouth agape and shiny with your cum, and you almost crack a smile, but you keep your composure.

You shuffle to your knees and instruct Eddie to lie down in place of where you just were and lean over him.

“Now, baby, I’m going to ask you again. Who’s cock is this?” You slowly drag a single digit, hardly touching the soft skin of his shaft, from the base to tip and back down again. His cock was more than ready, he was so thick and long. The tip was red, and was leaking out so much precum. If you didn’t know any better, you maybe would have thought he had come already.

“Yours” He doesn’t hesitate; he needs to cum; he needs to feel your pussy around him.

“Good boy,” you say, taking your finger away so you can hook a leg over his hip and straddle him.

“I think I’ve learned my lesson.” Eddie swallows.

“Oh, is that right?” your hand slowly makes its way up Eddie’s thick throat and lands at the base of his jaw. You squeeze it ever so gently at first but slowly tighten your grip as you sink down onto his cock.

Your small hand doesn’t do anything to hurt Eddie, but the feeling of it there had Eddie pushing his hips up into you roughly.

You let out a maon of pleaser as he hits your G-spot and doesn’t stop. Thrust after thrust, Eddie has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, and he will not stop until he has his way with you.

“Think you’re in control now, baby? Got you so cock drunk you can’t even speak.”

No longer did you care about being in control. Eddie was making you see stars.

“Don’t think your little toy had you feeling this good, huh?” he gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into your hips so hard you know there will be a bunch of tiny bruises in the morning.

“Ohhhhh, Teddy!,” You scream as your second orgasm rips through you without warming. Eddie’s hips jackhammer up into you as you ride out your orgasm, and Eddie chases his. He flips you over and pushes your legs up into your chest so he can watch himself disappear into your tight little cunt.

“Fucking made f’me.” his hips snap once, twice, three times more until he spills himself inside of you.

You feel Eddie’s weight collapse on you, his heavy body limp.

“Holy shit” You breathe in the revelation of what just happened. “Was that our best sex ever, or am I dreaming?” You whisper.

“I think you broke me, baby,” Eddie moans as he doesn’t want to leave your warm wet pussy.

“That confirms it, best sex ever.” You raise his hand so you can give him a high five before his limp arm falls back down on the bed.

You can’t help but giggle, and Eddie shoots out of you, complaining it’s too sensitive to squeeze his cock anymore.

“Teddy?”

“mhm?”

“Next time you want me to take charge, just ask. I’m not keeping a messy home because you wanna get freaky.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes before he rolls your body into his so you can fall asleep in his arms.

Tagging some moots who might be interested 🫣: @xxbimbobunnyxx @bimbotrashcan @usergeta @loserboysandlithium

[inkedinshadows]

Little Rainbow

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: When you can’t comfort your baby daughter, you bring her to her dad, who always manages to calm her down.

Warnings: just lots of fluff

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I thought I'd try my hand at writing second person pov instead of third. It just felt natural to write this one in 2nd pov. Maybe I'll stick with it in the future idk. This was born out of my baby fever btw, enjoy!

Azriel sensed you right before his shadows whispered of your arrival. He would recognize those steps and those soft wails anywhere.

A smile was already on his lips when the door opened with a small creak and you, his beautiful and loving mate, walked in holding your few-months-old daughter in your arms.

Leaning against the back of his chair, he watched as his shadows shot forward to greet the two of you, writhing around you and caressing your cheeks. You chuckled, but your daughter's soft cries stopped only for a moment before starting again, her little face even redder.

Azriel had spent centuries thinking he would never find love, that he wasn't good enough to deserve it. He was glad for his brothers’ happiness, and yet silently jealous of what they had. Brother, uncle, friend—he was grateful for it all, he truly was, but he longed for something more.

Then he met you.

Even before the mating bond snapped, he already knew you were the one. He had never been so smitten with someone in all his long years. He fell for you as quickly as a stone sinks in water, and finding out you were mates was just the cherry on top. He was convinced he could never love anything or anyone as much as he loved you.

But then you got pregnant. And when you gave birth, one look at the tiny bundle in Madja's arms was enough to prove him wrong. Seeing his mate holding his baby shortly after brought tears to his eyes, and he couldn't keep them from falling when you passed him Iris—named for the rainbow shining in the sky as she came into the world.

It was one of the happiest moments of his life, if not the happiest: looking down at the fragile, beautiful new life he had helped create.

But now, Iris was crying.

“One of those days?” he asked, his arms already outstretched toward his daughter.

“Yeah… sorry to interrupt you,” you answered with a sigh. You passed the baby to him and perched on the armrest of his chair. “But I tried feeding her, playing with her. I sang her all the lullabies I know. Nothing worked. She wants you.”

Azriel smiled down at Iris, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. And to him, to you, she was. You were never interrupting when it was about her.

“You missed me, little rainbow?” he asked softly, a scarred finger trailing down her red, puffy cheeks. His shadows followed suit to swirl around her little face as if they could wipe away her tears.

He'd been scared at first—scared he would somehow taint something so perfect with his scarred hands, hands that had done things he had never been proud of. Though you had reassured him many times, his every concern melted away completely only when Iris had grabbed his pointer finger and innocently put it in her mouth.

It was exactly what she was doing now. Under Azriel's adoring gaze, his daughter wrapped her tiny hands around the finger he had just used to caress her and began contentedly sucking on it, her wails stopping for the moment.

“I don't understand how you do that,” you complained, though your tone was soft, your eyes full of pure love and adoration as you watched your mate and your baby. “She refused her binky when I gave it to her. Every. Single. Time.”

Azriel finally looked up from his child and met your gaze. Amusement sparked in his eyes at your grumble.

“Don't take it personally, love,” he said, curling one of his wings around you and gently nudging you with it. “She said ‘mama’ the other day.”

Catching on to his little wing bump, you slid from the armrest onto his lap, even as you rolled your eyes at him. “She didn't say 'mama’. She was just babbling. She's too young to say words, Az.”

Azriel hummed thoughtfully, but his gaze slid back to Iris. She was still clutching his finger, and even though it had been almost seven months since she was born, watching her was as mesmerizing as the first time.

She had his eyes—hazel with a speck of green—but her hair was the same shade as yours. The two of you had initially spent hours simply gazing at her, whether she was awake or asleep, endlessly debating who she resembled the most. You claimed she had inherited Azriel's nose, he said she had your mouth. The truth was, it was too soon to know for sure, but neither of you cared. She was your rainbow, and she would always be perfect in Azriel's eyes.

The one thing he wasn't sure how to feel about was the lack of wings. After Feyre's tragic experience while giving birth, he had been relieved when Madja announced that your baby wouldn't have them. He never wanted to see you in such pain or risk losing you during childbirth. And yet, he was still Illyrian. Nothing could change that. A part of him longed for the chance to teach his baby daughter to fly, to hear the song of the wind and feel that unparalleled sense of freedom that only came from soaring high in the sky.

“Maybe it's the shadows.”

Your voice dragged him back to reality, and he turned to you with a furrowed brow.

“Why she's always calmer around you,” you clarified, gesturing to the shadows swirling around Iris. You caressed her head, and her eyes tracked back to you as she giggled around Azriel's finger. “They soothe her.”

Azriel smiled, his heart soaring at the sound of his daughter's soft laughter. His wing curled more tightly around you, drawing you closer so he could place a gentle kiss on your temple. “She's just like her mom, isn't she?”

You could only nod, returning his loving smile with one of your own. It was true—his shadows had always been a safe space to you. The first time he had seen you upset, they rushed to you, swirling around you and brushing your cheeks and your neck until you chuckled. From that moment, whether it was anger, sadness, or fatigue, they would leave Azriel's side to cheer you up before he could even take a step in your direction.

Your head came to rest on Azriel’s shoulder and you both watched your daughter's eyes grow heavy, her lids starting to drop as she stubbornly tried to keep them open, her hold on her dad's finger relenting.

“You fall asleep so easily in daddy's arms, don't you, little rainbow?” you whispered as you tenderly booped her cute little nose. “Just like mommy.”

Azriel chuckled, placing his now-free hand on the small of your back to gently nudge you to stand up. “Let's go to bed, love.”

You rose from his lap, and he immediately felt the absence of your warmth against him, but you only stood in front of him with that cute frown of yours—the one that created a small crease between your brows that he always wanted to smooth with his thumb.

Azriel knew exactly what you were thinking.

During the last month of your pregnancy, he had asked Rhys to keep missions away from Velaris to a bare minimum. And after Iris was born, he had stopped taking on any missions that required him to be away for more than two days, because he simply couldn't bear the thought of being separated from you and his baby girl. After centuries, he had finally learned the meaning of the word “delegate”. But sending his spies on jobs he'd usually do himself had led to a high pile of documents and reports on his desk—a pile he mostly tackled after you and Iris had gone to bed.

“I'm done working for tonight,” he reassured you, standing up and rocking Iris in his arms. “It can wait.”

It couldn't, not really. Some of those papers had been sitting on his desk for days, and the Azriel he was until seven months ago would have recoiled at the mere thought of unfinished work. But that was before an eternal rainbow added even more colors to his life than you already had.

You only smiled at him and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Let's go to bed, then,” you repeated before turning to walk out.

Azriel followed you, his baby’s eyes fluttering open at the movement and darting around as he walked down the pastel-blue hallway. She was always so curious, even when tired.

Not wanting to risk Iris deciding she’d rather stay awake and explore than sleep, Azriel began to hum her favorite lullaby. You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of his deep voice resonating off the walls, a soft smile on your lips as you watched the shadows gently sway to the melody.

He met your gaze when you stopped in front of Iris’s room, where you had painted the walls a light shade of pink while Azriel assembled the cream-colored furniture. He shook his head and gestured for you to keep walking, never interrupting his soft singing as Iris’s eyes fluttered closed once more. You raised an eyebrow but continued toward your bedroom at the end of the hallway.

You had recently started getting Iris used to sleeping in her own room instead of yours, with both doors left open for the rare times she still woke up at night. But tonight, Azriel wanted to hold both his girls in his arms.

Iris was fast asleep by the time Azriel gently placed her in the center of your large bed, careful not to wake her up. She rolled onto her tummy and let out a content sigh that had you both staring in awe.

You turned to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. “You didn't want her to sleep alone?” you murmured, your tone amused.

“I couldn't,” he answered with a smile, his fingers tangling in your silky hair. “She missed me, you said it yourself.”

You chuckled, leaning up to peck him on the lips.

Azriel didn't let you pull away.

It felt like a lifetime had passed since he last had some alone time with you. If it wasn't Iris needing attention and care, it was his duties as spymaster keeping him so busy that you had resorted to dragging your favorite armchair in his study, where you would curl up with a book during your daughter's nap time. Sitting in comfortable silence as you each focused on your own tasks was better than being apart.

He felt you relax, melting against his body as he deepened the kiss, and only then did he pull back to rest his forehead against yours.

“And I missed you,” he whispered. Your cheeks were warm under his touch and he took a moment to just breathe in your familiar, soothing scent.

“Then you should have let Iris sleep in her crib, my love,” you said with a glance at your daughter. A mischievous gleam entered your eyes when they settled on him again. “Because I really miss you too.”

Azriel's soft laugh echoed in the room, and he kissed the top of your head. “Tomorrow,” he promised. He could make those reports wait a bit longer.

You smirked, stealing one last kiss before stepping back to peel off your clothes. He took a moment to admire you—your smooth skin, the dip of your hips, the soft curve of your stomach that remained from childbirth—but he quickly undressed as well, and soon you were both in bed, with Iris nestled between you.

Azriel placed a broad hand on her back to draw her a bit closer, and his wing draped over you as you scooted over, enveloping the three of you in a warm, dark cocoon, the silence interrupted only by your daughter’s soft snoring.

He felt you move in the dark and guessed you had just kissed Iris when you murmured, “Goodnight, my rainbow. Even though you didn't let me sing you lullabies.”

Azriel didn't need to see your face to know you had a loving look in your eyes and a playful smile on your lips.

“Of course she prefers my lullabies,” he teased, brushing his thumb over Iris's back. “She's her daddy's girl.”

For a moment, he was tempted to fold back his wing and let the moonlight caress your face, just to catch your cute pout as you said, “I used to be your girl.”

“You still are, love. You're both my girls,” he assured you, letting his wing lower over you like a second blanket. “You're my family. There's nothing I love more than you and Iris.”

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice now stripped of all playfulness. Only pure, undiluted sincerity remained, warming his heart. “Both of you.”

Silence fell again, and it wasn't long before your breathing evened out as you drifted into sleep. But Azriel stayed awake a while longer, listening to the steady rhythm of his mate's soft sighs and his daughter's occasional snorts.

His own little family—everything he had ever wanted, more than he had ever dared to hope for.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @andreperez11

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 34 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Maverick makes time to have a conversation with Bradley, but you've already lost faith in him. Your words hurt him more than anything else could. 

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

When the mattress dipped and you felt the bedding shift around your legs, you opened your eyes to find Bradley climbing out of bed. The room was still dark, but his face was illuminated by his phone screen. The baby was thumping against your tender insides, making you wince, and your husband was playing around on his phone in the middle of the night. Or texting someone.

"What are you doing?" you croaked. Bradley's gaze snapped toward your face, and he leaned down to pull the covers to your shoulder.

"Uh, I need to head to base a little early," he whispered, tracing your cheek with his thumb. "To meet with Mav."

"What time is it?" you asked, rolling toward him to see his phone.

"Almost six," he replied, kissing your forehead as he tipped his screen away. "I love you. Try to get some more sleep."

You swallowed hard, rolling away from him as he started pulling his uniform from the closet. The rustle of fabric set your nerves on edge, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he got dressed. Maybe he thought you fell asleep again, because he didn't say another word before he left the room. But you were pretty sure you heard him stop in Rose's nursery before leaving the house.

Now you were wide awake and alone. Your phone told you it was 5:28 which was completely absurd. Neither you nor Bradley ever got to base before 8:00 unless you were working your ass off on a project.

He used Maverick as his excuse which seemed ridiculous. Bradley wasn't in the middle of training for a special mission which would require extra hours before daylight. And he had to know Maverick would only cover for him for so long.

You sat up and laughed miserably. Your husband was lying to you. And you thought you knew what he was lying about. Tears filled your eyes as your hand rested on your belly where your younger daughter was moving around. Why was Bradley doing this to the three of you? 

It wasn't like you couldn't tell how bad you looked at the moment. You knew it. You were bloated and chunky and broken out, but it was at least half his fault you were pregnant again in the first place. And you would make it a priority to get in shape after she was born. You would.

Your fingers were curled around the sheets, trying to keep yourself on your side of the bed, but you crawled toward Bradley's nightstand anyway. The lamp was too bright, taking your eyes a beat to adjust. You yanked the drawer open which offered almost no insight to anything except his Nugget Notebook with the pink and blue striped cover. But then you saw something underneath it.

You grabbed the second notebook, this one bright pink, and pulled it from the drawer. Only the first few pages were covered in his writing, but you soaked the words up greedily.

To my second daughter, you are the third love of my life. I realize that sounds a little unfair, like you're coming in third place, but I promise that's not that case. It's only because I met your mom and your sister first. You're not even here yet, but I already know I love you just as much as I love them. And I can't wait to meet you, too.

Before I get carried away, let me introduce myself. I'm your dad. It's my job to love you and take care of you. I'm not perfect, but I love you so much, I'll always try my best to be here for anything you need. To be honest, I never expected to have a family at all. And to be extra honest, you were a bit of a surprise. But a very good surprise. My favorite kind of surprise. I can't wait to teach you everything I know, which isn't much, but I do know how to love my three girls. 

"How?" you gasped, dropping the notebook back into the drawer. You sobbed into Bradley's pillow, unable to make sense of this. How was the man who wrote notebook passages to his children the same man who was sneaking around behind your back. With Indigo. It simply did not make sense, but both versions of him seemed to exist at the same time. And somehow you were the one who was more at odds with yourself than he was with himself.

You could feel the love he had for his daughters. It was so obvious. He was so good with Rose, and he seemed excited about having two kids.

You weren't sure if you'd be able to kick him out. You didn't know if you could leave him. If push came to shove, you didn't know if you could be that strong. You wished he wasn't making you consider it at all. 

--------------------------

"Oh, God."

Bradley was awake as soon as Maverick replied to his text at five in the morning. He'd barely been able to sleep anyway, but when Maverick told Bradley he was heading to Lemoore in a few hours for a meeting, he begged his godfather to meet with him first.

Now Bradley was sitting in his office in a silent building waiting for any help he could get. As far as he had worked out, Indigo had been devouring his extra attention for weeks for a less savory reason than he originally thought. All the times she invited him out for a drink left him shaking his head while he stared at the wedding photo perched in his desk. 

He never tried to hide the fact that he was married. He fucking flaunted it. You were perfect; why wouldn't he? If someone else thought they had a gorgeous wife? Ha, Bradley could lay it down in spades. Someone else claimed their wife was smart? Well, his was a goddamn genius. Someone wanted to brag about their kids? All he had to do was pull up a photo of Rose, and he had everyone around him swooning.

He found it easier to make small talk about his family than anything else these days, and he was sure Indigo knew he was married before he even left Texas to fly back to San Diego. It still seemed unlikely she wanted to sleep with him, but he wasn't going to deny that Nat was usually right about these things.

"Oh, God," Bradley groaned for probably the tenth time since he woke up. He wanted to rewind and go back to Texas and never select Indigo in the first place. 

But would that have been fair? To leave her behind when she was the best? When she was clearly one of the pilots who should be moving forward with new programs? It wasn't like she ever touched him. Other than persistently inviting him for drinks and showing up for all of his office hours, she never made an advance. But now he was uncomfortable. There was something about the way she always looked at him that.....yeah, Nat was right.

But if Bradley couldn't handle his first assignment in his new position, how was he supposed to prove he could do this going forward?

There was a knock on his already open door, and Maverick stood there looking perplexed. "Bradley? What did you need that couldn't wait until later this week?"

Bradley groaned again as he stood. "Can you shut the door?"

"Sure."

Maverick let it slip from his fingers, and Bradley waited until the echo of the door closing gave way to silence. He could feel his godfather's gaze on his face as his eyes closed. He swallowed hard, not wanting to waste the other man's time, but now that he was here, he felt so stupid. 

"I need your help," Bradley rasped, voice hoarse as his eyes opened. "It's work related."

"Okay," Maverick replied, voice between a statement and a question. "What can I do?"

Bradley's fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he looked down at his phone sitting there. "Uh...Mav, this is embarrassing."

When Maverick took a step closer, he reached across the desk to cuff Bradley on the shoulder. "Just hit me with it."

Bradley took a long breath and let it out slowly. "There's another officer who... well, it's been brought to my attention that she..." He let go of his desk and rubbed his fingertips against his eyes. "There's a chance my wife thinks something's going on between me and another officer on base. One who reports to me."

Maverick's expression gave nothing away, but he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before taking a step away from Bradley. "To be clear, Bradley, are you asking me to help you hide an indiscretion from your wife?"

Bradley's head tilted slightly. "Huh?" he grunted, thoughts already swirling around his mind so rapidly, it took him a few seconds to catch up. "What the fuck, Mav? No!" he gasped. "An indiscretion?" He could barely even say the word as he shook his head. "No. God, no! Nothing happened! Nothing is ever going to happen!"

He realized he was shouting when Maverick's hands flew into the air in surrender. "Okay. Alright. I hear you loud and clear. I just needed to be sure I understand what we're dealing with here. Why don't you have a seat and explain everything to me?"

Bradley was raking his fingers through his hair as he dropped down into his chair. "It's Lieutenant Jeffries. Indigo." Her intense blue eyes filled his mind as he shook his head. "Phoenix and Hangman pointed out that she..." He paused and glanced at the ceiling. "This is so embarrassing, Mav, but they said it seems like she wants to sleep with me."

"Hmm."

When Maverick hummed and went silent, Bradley said, "I know how ridiculous it sounds."

"It doesn't," his godfather replied immediately. "This sort of thing happens sometimes. You said nothing happened? You should keep your distance moving forward, and if she contacts you outside of work or does anything inappropriate, we can write it up."

Bradley groaned miserably, unlocked his phone, and pushed it across the desk with his messages open. "She did text me outside of work."

While Maverick reached for the phone, he said, "Did you give her your number?"

"No. Why would I do that?" he replied. "But honestly, it's not hard to get access to that kind of information. I didn't think much of it the first time."

Maverick shrugged. "Well, what did she text-" His eyes grew wide when he looked down at the phone, his cheeks turning pink as he was surely looking at the photo that had been in Bradley's messages for less than twelve hours.

"Yeah," Bradley croaked. "She sent that last night."

"But she texted you before that. When you never explicitly gave her your number." Maverick looked up at him, shaking his head. "Bradley, what were you thinking? She seems to have some sort of agenda. You should have come to me immediately after the first message."

Bradley stood, stomach lurching. His marriage, career, and reputation were somehow all on the line, and he hadn't even done anything. He couldn't help but think of his parents and the fact that his dad probably never put his mom through this kind of shit when she was seven months postpartum.

"An agenda?" Bradley whispered. "Shit, Mav. This is the kind of thing that happens on carriers. Not on base. I thought this was something men did way more than women when they wanted to cheat."

Maverick handed his phone back across the desk with the photo of Indigo open. Bradley swiped out of the text thread immediately, sick to his stomach. 

"You work in a high stakes field where women routinely outperform men. They are capable of anything you are."

"I know that!" Bradley snapped. "But I'm married! I'm not looking for that shit. I never let on that I was."

"Oh, you sweet summer child," Maverick sighed, checking his watch. "Literally," he added as he dug his own phone from his pocket. "If Lieutenant Jeffries is sending you photos and playing coy, she doesn't care about your wife."

Bradley winced. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Maverick grunted, taking a few steps toward the door. "And your wife is pregnant and vulnerable, and now I'm going to have to tell Admiral Simpson that I'll be late getting to Lemoore. Follow me. And bring your phone."

-------------------------------------

Bradley was late getting home. This was happening almost every night now, and you were hanging on by a thread as Rose screamed in your arms. She was fed, but she always seemed to prefer the way Bradley burped her over your technique.

"He's not here," you said through gritted teeth. "I don't know where he is or when he'll be back. I just need you to burp so you can go to sleep."

Your texts had gone unanswered. You weren't sure if Bradley had been in the cafeteria at lunchtime, because you hid in your office. Dinnertime had come and gone, and his cold plate of food was currently sitting on the kitchen counter.

"I don't know where he is," you repeated to your daughter while her younger sister did somersaults against your bladder. Rose's sobs finally started to taper off as you rubbed your hand firmly against her back. She finally burped, and that seemed to do the trick. Her fists curled up next to her face as she yawned. You barely had enough time to change her into a clean diaper and pajamas before her eyes were closed.

You were mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. You stood in her nursery, watching her sleep while you decided you needed to say something to your husband tonight. There was no way you could keep punishing yourself for not being enough. If he wanted someone else, you deserved to have him say it to your face.

But when you heard him open the front door thirty minutes later, your heart lurched into your stomach at the sight of him. You'd known how handsome he was since the day you met him, and he only seemed to get better looking with age. Each year added more silver to his hair and laugh lines to his face, but he was undeniably sexy.

Today, however, he looked exhausted, and your brain went wild with awful ideas. What had he gotten up to? Why was he so late? The top buttons of his uniform were undone, and his hair was mussed. He was staring down at his phone in his hand while you stood silently at the end of the hallway, terrified of what he was looking at.

Suddenly everything you'd been holding inside for weeks was bubbling up to the surface, and you were done holding it back. You cleared your throat, and his gaze snapped up to your face, phone hanging in his hand by his side.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Is Rosie already asleep?"

You nodded, taking each step slowly until you were standing right in front of him. When he reached for you, his fingers skimmed your shoulder before you pushed his hand away. Those beautiful, brown eyes you loved so much went wide, but he didn't look surprised. Not at all.

"Why are you so late?" you snapped. "And don't feed me some bullshit about office hours, because I know your schedule. Or, at least, I know what they are supposed to be."

Bradley licked his lips, gesturing between the two of you with his phone. "I had to take care of something important with Maverick."

You wanted to laugh in his face. "You're really going to use the same excuse as this morning? Another meeting with Maverick? What, one was at the crack of dawn and the other was after dinnertime? I've been texting you for hours, Bradley."

You watched his Adam's apple bob. "I didn't have my phone with me for part of the day."

"You have it now!" you laughed sardonically, pointing at his hand just in time to see his phone light up. 

It was her. You saw her name there. Indigo. She was texting your husband well after work hours, and you could already feel the tears stinging your eyes.

You grabbed his phone before he seemed to realize what was happening. Your fingers shook as you entered his passcode to find it was still your birthday. He wasn't even trying to hide this from you. He wasn't trying to take his phone back. As you braced yourself for what you were about to see, you whispered, "What the fuck is going on with her?"

His brown eyes were so sincere, and once again, you couldn't understand how this was the same man who wrote journals for his unborn children. "Nothing," he replied, voice taking on a tone of defeated exhaustion. "There's nothing going on."

Your eyes dipped down to his phone to find not one, but two flirtatious selfies. One new one, and one that was sent last night while he was working out in the garage. Indigo's eyes stared back at you from the screen, mocking you, making a fool of your family.

You were crying. You didn't want Bradley to see you cry right now, but you couldn't stop. "This doesn't look like nothing. And you didn't tell her to stop."

Now he looked panicked, eyes wide as he saw the photo on his phone in your hand. "Okay, I know this looks bad, but I reported it, I swear! I've never been alone with her behind closed doors. You can call Mav!"

Violent sobs shook your body, and when Bradley slowly let his hand settle on your arm, you shook him free. "You expect me to believe nothing is going on? When you get home late every day? When she told me that it's no wonder you prefer her since I let myself go?" you gasped, swiping at your tears.

"What?" Bradley barked as you blindly handed his offending phone back to him. "She said that to you?"

You nodded miserably, taking a step away from him. "I don't want to know if you said that to her, or if she formed her own opinion after spending time with you. And I don't want to know if you're fucking her or just considering it. But I want you out of the house."

Bradley looked like you just slapped him. His mouth was hanging open, brow creased while you sobbed. "You want me out?" he whispered, hand going up to rake his fingers through his hair.

"Yes," you squeaked, trying to stay strong not just for yourself, but for your daughters as well. Every word hurt as you forced them out of your mouth, but you had to say them. "Go. Until I can talk to my parents about canceling the sale of their house. I'll transfer to Annapolis. Take the girls with me."

Bradley closed the distance to you, tears already pooling in his eyes as he dropped to his knees. His lips found your belly, and you sobbed harder as he wrapped his hands around your hips. "No. You can't," he said so softly, you could barely hear him. When he looked up at your face, you almost believed he would never be capable of hurting you. "Baby Girl, you can't leave me. I need you. I need my girls."

When you stepped out of his grasp, his arms fell limply to his sides. You'd never seen him look so miserable before, and you had to stand firm instead of reaching for his hands.

"Find somewhere else to sleep."

The implications of your own words stung your heart, and you had to watch him slowly get to his feet. He kissed your forehead, and your eyes blurred with fresh tears when he went down the hallway to Rose's room. Less than a minute passed, but each second felt like a day. You had plenty of time to tell him the truth. That you didn't want him to leave. That you couldn't blame him for wanting someone else, and you still needed him as much as he said he needed you.

When he reappeared, you pressed your lips together even as he kissed your damp cheek. "I love you," he rasped. "I'm never going to stop loving you. I'll figure out some way to make you believe me."

You watched him retreat to the front door with his keys, shoulders sagging as he gave you one last lingering look before slipping out into the darkness.

------------------------------------

Ouch. Ouch. Okay. I want BG to believe Roo beyond any doubt, and I think I know how to make that happen. Please stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 36

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[monzamash]

still tasting you lando norris x you (older piastri sister) rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language) requested by @sublimebarbie for monzamusings ✨

“I’m about to act up if we don’t get out of here soon.”

Lando's voice was hushed and close, barely audible over the loud music but you heard him; you heard the suggestion in his tone - eyes dark when you peered into them, scorching through your soul. 

The room was a blur – bodies everywhere, EDM vibrating through the floor and syphoning up the ceiling, making your head spin. The shots on the way in didn’t help your sense of direction, the tequila tasting bitter on the tip of your tongue as you followed your brother; a chain of McLaren employees all fighting their way through the dense crowd. It was loud, raised voices trying to figure out where we were being dragged. Truthfully, it was almost too much. 

Until you saw him. His navy button down shirt stuck to his tanned skin, black thick-rimmed sunglasses shielding his bloodshot eyes, bright toothy smile reflecting the flashing lights. He was the embodiment of ‘dance like nobody’s watching’ with his arm raised in the air, singing along to a remix of No Diggity. Carefree, giving zero fucks until he saw you. 

To the outside looking in, you two were friendly - he was your younger brother's teammate, after all. But in the shadows, there were unspeakable acts of pleasure occurring that had you both sworn to secrecy. Quick glances, ghosting touches, passionate make out sessions behind motorhomes and late night rendezvous in hotel rooms. It was the whole ‘sneaking around’ cliche and you loved it. 

Especially when he looked at you like that. 

Like you’d hung the stars in the sky, like there was nobody else in the room but you. He was ravenous and completely enamoured; rendered speechless every single time. 

Granted, you looked hot. Intentionally. You craved his undivided attention and you had it in spades. He’d slipped away from the DJ booth as soon as he saw you lining up for a drink - chatting away with his PR manager and pretending like you couldn't feel his searing presence behind you. 

“Hey guys,” Lando cooly greeted, smiling brighter than the sun.

“Hey hun, I'm ordering drinks - what do you want?” Sophie asked, waiting a beat for Lando’s answer and getting nothing in return, “Lando?”

“Huh?” he mumbled, tearing his gaze away from you to his media manager who was still waiting for his drink order, but now with a sly smirk on her face, “Couldn’t hear you over the music.” He tried to play it off and she simply hummed in agreement and turned back to the bartender.

“Smooth,” you whispered playfully, pulling him into a friendly side hug, “Congrats on the win… must feel amazing.” 

Lando nodded and ran his hands through his hair - you'd noticed he always did that when he was nervous. His cheeks would flush, eyes would dart to anywhere but yours and his fingers would find the frayed ends of his gorgeous curls. All tell tale signs that he was into you. 

“Yeah, it does…” he agreed, nodding and chewing the inside of his cheek, “Not as amazing as you look but still pretty good.”

He could turn it on when he wanted to. And it made you blush as your idle hands playfully swatted him away until you spotted your little brother strolling over to the two of you with a smile. 

“Hey mate,” Oscar greeted happily, patting his teammate on the shoulder, “Celebrating?”

“Absolutely,” Lando enthused and held up his vodka soda with a grin, “Is Lily here?”

“Yeah she’s talking to someone. Thought i’d just come over and make sure my sister wasn’t annoying you again,” he winked, knowing that you were the least annoying person he knew. 

So you rolled your eyes and started to walk away, “Rich coming from you, kid.”

Oscar simply laughed, none the wiser to your arrangement with his teammate, “Don’t have too much fun and remember which side of the garage you’re related to, yeah?” “Yeah, yeah.” you brushed him off and slyly grasped Lando’s wrist, dragging him off into the sea of sweaty bodies and debauchery. 

It didn’t take long for his hands to find a place on your swaying hips, entranced by the way they moved to the music reverberating through your chest. It was hot, in more ways than just the temperature rising in the room as capacity hit. Lando’s breath swept across the back of your neck as he leaned in, so close to pressing his lips to the soft spot between your ear and shoulder that gifted him with the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.

It took every ounce of will power to save it for the bedroom. 

But he was fighting a losing battle. 

“I’m about to act up if we don’t get out of here soon.”

You couldn't stop the smirk tugging on the corners of your lips as his confession washed over you. So you spun around in his arms and leaned in a little closer than "friendly".

But you didn't care – you needed him.

“Then take me somewhere and do something about it.”

That’s all it took. Five little words had you pressed up against the wall of the lavish bathroom. The lighting was dim, nothing but a single sconce illuminating the copper walls and the gorgeous vanity you were perched upon. It was clumsy, all teeth as you kissed the man holding you up, legs sprawled and mewls slipping from your ruby lips. Tongue tied and breathless, all the things to make a quickie, a quickie. 

“So fucking tight,” Lando grumbled as he pumped two fingers into you, the dampened string of what resembled a pair of panties haphazardly pulled to the side.

“Need to fuck me good then, hey.” It was a taunt fuelled by carnal need and desire - Lando simple nodded and lazily nipped at the skin exposed on your neck. 

“Gonna fuck you so good, baby.”

He was painfully hard, which made unzipping his ridiculously tight trousers even harder than usual. But he managed to do it without missing a beat, fingers still delving into the depths he craved to feel squeezing his aching dick. He’d thought about it all day, even had to have a cold shower because of how fucking obsessed he was with the way you felt around him, clenching like you were now around his thick digits. 

“We’ve gotta be quick so leave everything on,” you whispered with a devilish glint in your hungry eyes, fiddling with his belt buckle.

Lando wasn’t going to protest, in fact he loved the idea of having you like this - fully clothed with only your cute, black lacy panties pulled to the side for him to slide into. He couldn’t wait any longer. His trousers and pants were hastily shoved down just enough to free him, the slick coat of excitement cooled by the air and sending a chill down his spine. Until he removed his fingers and ran himself through your folds, eliciting the sound of an angel, heaven sent.

“We good?” he asked sweetly and you nodded with pleading eyes, sealing a layer of consent before nudging his tip into you. 

A chorus of moans harmonised between the two of you, pleasantly satisfied by the intimacy as he shuffled forward with a gentle huff. It felt too good to have him inside you, filling you up with a delicious fullness you constantly craved from him. It’s all you needed after a long day of yearning and discreetly glancing across the garages - all you could think about was this moment, where it was just you and him; so outrageously turned on that you couldn’t wait to get back to his hotel. Desperately devoted.

“Feels unbelievable, baby,” you praised in a breathy moan, head tilted back against the already steamed up mirror hanging behind you.

“Having you like this is a fucking dream,” Lando practically growled as he pulled down the top of your dress and kissed the tops of your breasts, “So beautiful.” 

Everything felt heightened as you relaxed against the vanity, fully trusting his tight grip and letting go of all inhibitions. That’s how you felt with Lando - walls down and no longer scared to feel it all with someone. And god, it felt good to purge all the pent up lust and aching to have him like this, panting and whispering filth into your ear; every word and jut surmounting to the knot in your stomach snapping to ribbons all at once. Your rushed words pathetically coming out in a whine.

“Lan… Baby I’m gonna- fuck, I’m so close.” 

“Shhh, I got you darling, come ‘f me…” he sweetly whispered, easing you over the edge as his fingers caressed the bundle of nerves between your thighs like precious cargo. 

You chanted his name over and over and over again, fingernails clutching his clothed back for leverage as you convulsed in pleasure, shockwaves hitting every nerve in your body as he spilled into you with an exasperated groan. He was beautiful, all flushed and fucked out as he pressed his forehead to yours, weary eyes locked in once again. 

“Some of our best yet, I reckon,” Lando whispered, his smirking lips ghosting yours. 

You chuckled and gave him a quick kiss as you slid down off the vanity, readjusting your panties to their usual position. There was a short beat before you glanced back up at him with a smile, fingertips instinctively tracing the angles of his sharp jaw. 

“Oh, we’re just getting started, baby.” 

a/n – something a bit different! i've always wanted to explore a lando x older piastri sister because well, this fic series exists and older reader stories just hit harder and are a lot easier for me to write. so let me know what you think!

click here for more writing...

[rememberwren]

I love the idea of a 141!reader and Ghoap going on a mission and being forced into a safehouse with only one bed. Fast forward to walking in or waking up to something a little spicy and 👀

ghoap, ghoap/fem!reader, handjobs, cum eating.

-

It’s not even close to dawn when Ghost wakes you from your dead sleep, his gloved hand still cold from the outdoors where he lays it on your shoulder and shakes you awake. 

“Your turn for watch,” he says, lowly so as to not wake Johnny. 

You bite back a groan, but you force yourself to roll away from Johnny’s blissfully warm, sleeping figure and to take assessment of your body. Toes are numb. Your eyes sting, you are so tired. It feels like only minutes ago that you’d laid your head down on the small queen sized mattress in this shithole safehouse. When you had, you were curled up with Ghost at the time, cuddled against his massive figure for warmth. You’d been convinced you would never sleep—how could you with Ghost pressed flush against you?—but your eyes had fallen shut the moment your head touched the lumpy pillow. You hadn’t even awoken when he and Johnny switched places. 

“What time is it?” you croak. You clear your throat. 

“02:00.” 

You run your chilly hands over your face and force yourself to stand, swaying dangerously on your feet. Ghost reaches out and braces you, a hand on your shoulder. He lets go as soon as you are steady, never one for touching any more than he has to. Even if it would be welcome. 

“You’re no use like this,” he says, voice cool but not cold. “Get back in bed.”

“It’s my turn, sir,” you slur. There are two of him—then just one, your eyes crossing with exhaustion. 

“I won’t tell you again, Sergeant.” 

You collapse back onto the mattress, relieved and disappointed in equal measure. Alright maybe not in equal measure. The bed with the slightly musty sheets is a far cry from the tundra outside. A part of you is sure that Ghost will take a double watch—he’s just supernatural enough to do it—but you hear the sound of Velcro tearing free as he begins to strip himself of weapons. 

“Sir?” you wonder, eyes already shut.

He ignores you. “Shove over, Sergeant. Johnny. Johnny.” 

“‘m up,” Johnny mutters, wiping at his cheek where he has drooled in his sleep. You snort softly, shifting over and reaching out to grip the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to you. He comes easily, looping an arm over your waist like you’re lovers and not siblings-in-arms. His breath fans across your forehead when he asks: “We cuddlin’?” 

“With Ghost,” you add sleepily, tucking your face into his neck where it is warm. The tip of your nose burns, it is so cold. Johnny smells like sweat, but it’s not a scent you altogether mind. There’s a lot about cuddling with Johnny that you don’t mind. 

For the three of you to fit with any semblance of comfort, you have to lay on your sides. You have faced Johnny, but when you crack your eyes open, you’re surprised to see your lieutenant has as well, his hand resting on Johnny’s hip while yours is curled around his back. When you flex your hand, your knuckles graze Ghost’s vest. You can feel his eyes on you, so you keep yours on where his hand rests on Johnny. It looks comfortable there. Familiar. It’s your last thought before your eyes slip shut and you fall asleep. 

When you wake, Johnny has rolled in his sleep to face Ghost. The sky is a deep blue, hinting at dawn. Your eyes don’t sting as much when you open them, though you keep yourself still and quiet, listening for the sound of enemy footsteps outside the safehouse crunching in the snow, positive that that is what has awoken you. 

But the quiet sounds you hear are coming from within the room. 

“Keep quiet, Sergeant,” Ghost whispers.

For a moment you think he is talking to you. But then Johnny gives a sigh, wiggling his lower half a little. His arse nudges against your thigh thanks to your position sprawled on your back. Johnny’s voice rasps out: “S’ long as you keep touchin’ me.” 

It does not compute. 

Your brow furrows. Your ears strain. You’ve obviously misheard. Something has been lost in translation. Except the noise Johnny makes afterward—a quiet little whine in the back of his throat—can’t be misinterpreted. His heel nudges against your foot as he carefully searches for purchase to continue doing—something with Ghost. You shut your eyes tight, face burning, but behind your eyelids are just various images of what must be happening inches away from you. Maybe Johnny woke up hard, twisted in the sheets, cock pressed against Ghost’s thigh. Maybe he’d been rutting up against their lieutenant in his sleep. 

Maybe now Ghost had worked his cock free from his pants and was stroking him off. 

“Keep still,” Ghost says. 

“Can’t,” Johnny groans softly, barely a whisper. “Feels good.” 

“You’re going to wake her. You want that?” 

“No!” 

“Hm. Don’t know why you’re embarrassed. You look good like this Johnny,” Ghost says. His quiet, rumbling words send a pulse of heat through you, centering between your thighs. For the first time since you’d landed on this godforsaken stretch of country, you felt truly warm. “Keep still for me. Just lay there and take it, Sergeant.” 

“Jesus, Ghost,” Johnny whispers. He sounds wrecked, body writhing beside you as he fights not to thrust into Ghost’s grip. 

“Yeah,” Ghost says, amused. “I know.”

Their lieutenant has set the most lackadaisical pace, audible just over Johnny’s little sounds and frantic breaths. You wonder if Ghost’s grip is tight or if his fist is loose, barely giving Johnny what he needs. You know Ghost, you know his hands (have spent enough time watching them)—he is as capable of the lightest touches as he is the most brutal. Not for the first time, you think about what it would be like to be the object of his attention, the recipient of his sharpened focus. 

Your thighs clench together, the movement near enough to stillness to avoid garnering either man's attention. It isn’t fair, you think to yourself. Not fair that Johnny is Ghost’s favorite, not when this is the kind of treatment favoritism grants you. Not fair that Ghost gets to be the one to take Johnny in his hand, to share breaths with him while Johnny whines and begs under his breath. 

“Close,” Johnny whispers. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Johnny. Be a good boy now.” 

Johnny’s body stiffens for an endless moment, and then he melts, trembling, wrecked little noises tripping off his lips. The sounds turn slick with every stroke Ghost gives Johnny’s cock, and you know that your fellow Sergeant has made a mess between them. It makes you ache, between your legs and deep in your chest with a want so keen it’s like a knife slid between your ribs. 

“Clean up your mess, Johnny,” Ghost says, and you hear the wet sounds of Johnny sucking his fingers clean. 

When they have finished, Johnny creeps from the bed, taking some of the key warmth with him, which serves to remind you of how fucking cold you are. You shiver with your eyes squeezed shut, feeling Ghost’s gaze on you, assessing whether or not you’re truly asleep.

The mattress shifts—and Ghost’s massive arm wraps around you, pulling you towards the center of the bed where the warmth of Johnny’s body lingers. Your eyes open, limbs flailing a little, a sound of confusion in the back of your throat. 

“Go back to sleep,” Ghost rumbles. “Just moving you to the middle. You’re shaking.” 

The warmth of his body is a sedative, a hypnotic that lulls you back toward that sleepy place even if it means ignoring the throbbing between your legs. You bury your face in his neck like you had with Johnny, and it’s his turn to shiver, maybe. When Johnny returns to the bed, he spoons against your back, breath fanning against your neck. Here between them, it’s positively hot. 

You drift off back to sleep, and the next time you awaken, the sun is a blazing arch on the horizon, and Ghost is waking you again for watch duty. 

[thef1diary]

A White Christmas | D. Ricciardo

Merry Smutmas: BONUS FIC

warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral, husband!dad!daniel

— Happy Holidays & Merry Christmas from your favourite daniel sluts! (aka me n @emchante)🎄🎁 while this may not have been the perfect smutmas, we both thoroughly enjoyed writing each fic and we hope you enjoyed reading them just as much. Here’s the bonus fic, as promised. Be warned, there’s a lotta holiday filth ahead 👀

It was Christmas Morning, and the soft hush of snow blanketed the world outside the frosted windows. The flakes drifted lazily from the sky, a picturesque white Christmas that seemed almost too perfect to be real. Inside, the warmth of laughter and joy filled the air as you and Daniel watched your three kids eagerly tear into their presents. Their delighted squeals and wide-eyed wonder made the early wake-up call more than worth it. Wrapping paper flew across the living room, the scent of cinnamon rolls wafted from the kitchen, and the fire crackled softly in the background.

Breakfast followed shortly after—simple but perfect, with pancakes, eggs, and hot chocolate for everyone. The kids chattered excitedly about their new toys, their little faces—a close replica of Daniel’s—glowing with the magic of the day. Once the plates were cleared, you dressed them in their holiday sweaters, ready to head off to their grandma’s house where you and Daniel would join them later in the afternoon.

The house was quiet now, blissfully so, as you stood by the doorframe, waving goodbye to the kids as they piled into the car with their aunt. Once they drove away, Daniel closed the door, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind as he pressed a lingering kiss to your neck.

“Finally,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and teasing. “We’ve got the house to ourselves for a couple hours.”

You turned in his arms, raising a brow at the sly grin tugging at his lips. “And what exactly do you plan on doing with this time, Mr. Ricciardo?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead he walked over to the Christmas tree and picked up the last neatly wrapped present sitting underneath. His grin grew wider as he handed it to you. “Open it and find out.”

You quickly unwrapped the present, your curiosity piqued, only to find the sheerest, most delicate lace lingerie you’d ever seen nestled inside. The deep red fabric was soft under your fingertips, accented with intricate embroidery and ribbons that left little to the imagination. Your cheeks flushed, but Daniel’s smirk only deepened.

“And here I thought we were trying to be nice for Christmas,” you teased, holding the garments up for a better look.

“What can I say?” he replied, stepping closer until his hands were on your hips. “I wanted a very, very naughty gift this Christmas.” His lips brushed yours, his voice a whisper. “And I plan on unwrapping it right now.”

It didn’t take you long to change. When you stepped into the bedroom wearing the lingerie, Daniel’s eyes darkened instantly, his gaze raking over every inch of you.

“Turn around,” he commanded softly, his voice low and rough.

You did as he asked, feeling his gaze burn into your back as you gave him a full view. His sharp intake of breath sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could say anything, his hands were on your hips, pulling you back against his chest.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands roamed over your body. “Look at you, love. All wrapped up for me.”

You let out a soft laugh, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “You like it, then?”

“Like it?” His hand slid between your thighs, finding the growing heat there through the thin fabric. “I’m obsessed.”

He didn’t wait for a response before nudging you gently towards the bed. You let yourself fall onto the soft mattress, his hands quickly finding your thighs to spread them apart. Daniel knelt between your legs, his hands gripping them firmly as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee. His mouth trailed higher, and when he reached the thin lace of your panties, he paused to look up at you.

“Look at you, adding some sweetness to my gift,” he murmured, his voice filled with dark amusement.

You didn’t have a chance to reply before his mouth covered you, his tongue pressing against your cunt through the lace. You gasped, your back arching off the bed as he teased you, his tongue working you over with slow, deliberate strokes and kisses.

Daniel’s lips teased you through the lace, his tongue hot and wet as it moved against the thin fabric, dampening it further with each slow stroke. The friction of the lace against your sensitive skin was intoxicating, a mix of pleasure and torment that had you gasping, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you.

“Daniel,” you whimpered, your hips shifting, desperate for more, for him to pull the fabric aside and give you what you needed.

But he only chuckled against you, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. “Patience, my love. I like seeing you like this—needy and desperate for me.”

He slid a hand up your thigh, his touch firm and possessive, before his fingers slipped beneath the lace. He didn’t move it away. Instead, he pressed against your slick folds, the fabric catching every motion as his fingers teased and circled your clit.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “You’re soaking through it.”

You could only moan in response, your body trembling as he continued to torment you with slow, deliberate strokes of his fingers. His mouth joined again, his tongue pressing firmly against your lace-covered pussy, and the combined sensations had you spiraling out of control.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he commanded, his voice low and rough against your skin. “Dirty this pretty lace for me.”

It didn’t take much more. His fingers pressed just right, his tongue relentless as it worked you through the fabric, and the pressure built until it exploded, your body clenching and shaking as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your thighs trembling as your cum coated the lace, leaving it soaked and clinging to your sensitive cunt.

Daniel groaned in approval, pulling back to admire his handiwork. “Fuck, look at this,” he muttered, his fingers tracing the damp lace. “You’ve completely ruined it. Just how I wanted.”

Before you could catch your breath, he was moving, flipping you onto your stomach with ease. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you onto your knees, your ass high in the air as he positioned you exactly how he wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice filled with reverence and hunger. He slid his hands down your back, over the curve of your ass, before grabbing the lace and pulling it to the side, finally uncovering your cunt.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his hands spreading you wider. “Absolutely perfect.”

You felt him against you a moment later, the thick head of his cock teasing your hole as he slid it through your wetness, gathering everything you’d already given him.

“Daniel, please,” you begged, your voice breathless and broken.

“Please what?” he taunted, his voice dark and teasing as he paused at your entrance.

“Please fuck me,” you cried, pushing your hips back against him.

He didn’t make you wait any longer. With one smooth thrust, he buried himself inside you, filling you completely. You both groaned at the feeling, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he stilled for a moment, letting you adjust.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice rough with need.

Then he began to move, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, each thrust deep and deliberate. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your cries and his guttural moans.

“You’re taking me so well,” he moaned, his hands digging into your hips. “Such a good girl for me. So tight, so wet.”

You couldn’t form a response, your mind foggy with pleasure as he set a punishing pace, his cock hitting deep with every thrust. Your arms gave out beneath you, your face pressed into the mattress as he continued to take you, his grip never faltering.

“Gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice strained as he leaned over you, his lips brushing your ear. “Feel you squeezing me already. Do it—cum all over my cock.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing as another orgasm tore through you. He didn’t slow down, fucking you through it, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release.

With a low groan, he pulled out at the last second, his hand stroking himself as he finished over your ass. The heat of his cum splashed across your skin, thick and hot, marking you in the most intimate way.

Daniel’s breath was ragged behind you as he steadied himself, his release warm and sticky on your skin. His hands slid down your hips, almost soothing, before he traced a finger through the mess he’d made.

“You look even better like this,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. “Covered in my cum.”

You shivered at his tone, feeling his finger gather some of the wetness on your skin before he pressed it to your lips. “Open,” he commanded, his eyes locked on yours as you turned your head slightly to look at him.

Your lips parted, and he slid his finger into your mouth, watching intently as you closed your lips around him and sucked. His groan was deep and guttural, his other hand coming to stroke your hair. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your cheek.

When he pulled his finger free, you turned fully, taking in the sight of him. His chest heaved with every breath, his body glistening with sweat, and yet his cock was still hard, standing proud and ready. The sight of him—so undone and yet still wanting—ignited something primal in you.

Without a word, you slid off the bed, sinking to your knees in front of him. His eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in surprise, but the smirk that followed told you he knew exactly what you intended.

“Look at you,” he said softly, his voice dripping with lust. “So fucking eager.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, your hands wrapped around his thighs, your touch firm as you brought your face closer. Your tongue darted out, licking along the underside of his cock, tasting him. He hissed, his hips jerking slightly as you teased him, your tongue swirling around the head before you took him into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back as his hands found your hair. “That mouth of yours… feels so damn good.”

You worked him with practiced ease, your lips sliding down his length as your tongue pressed against him. Your hand joined the motion, stroking the base while your mouth focused on the tip, hollowing your cheeks with each movement.

Daniel’s grip in your hair tightened as his breathing grew heavier. “You’re gonna make me lose it, love,” he said, his voice strained. “So fucking perfect, on your knees like this.”

You hummed in response, the vibration sending a shudder through him. His hips bucked slightly, and you took him deeper, letting him hit the back of your throat. The sound he made was sinful, his control fraying with each passing second.

“Shit,” he groaned, pulling back just enough to take a breath. “I need to see you.”

He withdrew from your mouth, and you looked up at him, your lips swollen and glistening. His eyes darkened at the sight, and you continued stroking him with your hand.

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock, gaze connected with his as you whispered, “cum all over me, Danny.”

You tilted your head back slightly, your tongue flicking out to catch the first drop of his release as he came. His moan was deep and raw as he spilled over your face, the warmth splashing across your cheeks and down to your chest. He aimed deliberately, painting your lace-covered breasts with streaks of white, each one a claim on your body.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his breathing uneven as he admired his work. “You’re a goddamn masterpiece.”

Your hands came up to your chest, your fingers trailing through the mess he’d made. You looked up at him, your gaze heated. “All yours,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry.

He knelt down, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you deeply, the taste of him still on your tongue. “Always mine,” he murmured against your lips.

Painted in Daniel’s cum, it was truly a white Christmas, one you’d never forget.

taglist: @lilorose25 @thenotoriouserg @a-distantdreamer @leclercsluvs @fat-meh @wintxr-widow @amirahart @alishamai @rendezvoushn

[rootedinrevisions]

Cop Car

SUMMARY: You and Jake enter a restricted area to watch the planes take off. It's all fun and games until the two of you end up cuffed in the backseat of a car. Things only get worse when your dad, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell arrives on the scene. Loosely based on/inspired by Cop Car by Keith Urban because apparently my thing lately has been making fics out of songs.

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87

The faint roar of jet engines reverberated in the distance, a low hum that vibrated through the night air. You were wrapped up in Jake’s arms, your back pressed against his chest as you both lounged in the truck bed, staring at the vast sky above. There was a thrill, a kind of reckless energy, in sitting just beyond the "No Trespassing" signs, so close to the runways where the Navy's finest pilots took off.

Your heart raced, though it wasn’t from fear of getting caught. It was from being here, next to him. You felt the soft thud of his heartbeat as you lay back against his chest, your body cocooned in his warmth.

“You sure this was a good idea?” Jake’s voice was low, tinged with amusement as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

You grinned up at him, the glow of the airstrip lights casting soft shadows across his features. “Since when have you ever cared about breaking the rules?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. “Fair point. But if your old man catches us—”

You cut him off with a playful laugh, turning in his arms so you could look up into his eyes. “We’ll be fine. I’ve got a plan.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a plan?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded confidently, leaning in closer until your noses almost touched. “If we get caught, I’ll just tell them how much I love planes. They’ll understand.”

Jake shook his head, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll get us out of any trouble.”

You leaned back against him, your eyes flicking up to watch as another jet took off, its engines roaring to life and tearing down the runway before disappearing into the night sky. There was something magical about it, watching those planes cut through the darkness. You’d loved planes ever since you were a kid—since the first time your dad had taken you up for a ride.

Sighing contently, you snuggled deeper into Jake’s embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back. The moment was perfect, just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. All the worries of tomorrow didn’t matter. It was just you, Jake, and the thrill of being somewhere you weren’t supposed to be.

“Hey, look,” Jake said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Another one.”

You followed his gaze, watching as a fighter jet lifted off into the air, its sleek frame disappearing into the starry sky. For a second, you imagined what it must be like for Jake—to be up there, soaring through the clouds, with nothing but the horizon ahead of him. You admired his ambition, his drive.

“What’s it like up there…you know when you’re flying?” you asked, watching another jet take off, its lights blinking against the darkness.

Jake’s laugh was low, vibrating through your body as his arms tightened around you. “It’s the best feeling in the world…besides being here with you.”

You smiled, tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of his face, the shadows from the runway lights dancing across his jawline. There was something about being here, just the two of you, that felt untouchable—like nothing could ruin this moment. It felt like the world belonged to just you and him.

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted it—the glow of headlights approaching from the other side of the fence. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Uh, Jake,” you murmured, sitting up a little. “We’ve got company.”

Jake followed your gaze, his jaw tightening as the headlights got closer. A black SUV with the words “Military Police” emblazoned on the side rolled to a stop just a few feet away from Jake’s truck.

“Shit,” he muttered, sliding out of the truck bed and extending a hand to help you down. His expression was still calm, but you could feel the tension rolling off him as the door to the SUV swung open.

Two officers stepped out, their faces stern and their postures rigid as they approached. The taller one, a gruff-looking man in his mid-40s with a salt-and-pepper beard, was the first to speak.

“You two realize this is a restricted area, right?” His voice was sharp, no-nonsense.

You exchanged a glance with Jake, your heart thudding in your chest. “Uh, yeah,” Jake said, holding up his hands in surrender. “We were just watching the planes. Didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

The officer’s eyes narrowed as his gaze shifted to you. “And you? You got identification on you?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t on base legally, and you knew it. While Jake was a Navy pilot with all the right credentials, you were just the daughter of one of the Navy’s most legendary pilots. That wasn’t going to help much right now.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “I… I don’t have any ID on me.”

The second officer, a younger man with a buzz cut, stepped forward. “Name?”

You hesitated, glancing at Jake before answering. His green eyes were serious, silently telling you to be honest. There was no talking your way out of this.

“Y/N Mitchell,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The officers exchanged a glance, clearly recognizing the name. “As in Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell?” the first officer asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nodded, your heart sinking. “Yeah… that’s my dad.”

The older officer exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple as if already anticipating the headache this was going to cause. “Well, Miss Mitchell, you’re not supposed to be here. You’re aware of that, right?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Jake cut in. “Look, this is on me. I brought her here. She just wanted to see the planes. I’ll take full responsibility.”

The officer gave Jake a once-over, clearly unimpressed. “And you are?”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin,” Jake said, pulling his Military ID card out of his wallet and handing it over. The officer examined it under the flashlight before handing it back, his expression still stony.

“You know better, Lieutenant,” the officer said, his voice low and stern. “You’re military personnel. You should know what ‘No Trespassing’ means.”

Jake clenched his jaw but nodded. “Yes sir, I know. I screwed up.”

The officer gave a nod to his partner, who immediately stepped forward and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “I’m afraid you’re both coming with us,” the younger officer said, reaching for Jake’s wrists first.

“Wait, is that really necessary?” you asked, panic rising in your chest as you watched them cuff Jake.

“Afraid so,” the officer replied, his tone almost bored. “Regulations.”

Your breath quickened as the officer turned to you next, holding out the cuffs. “Turn around, ma’am.”

You swallowed hard and did as you were told, the cold metal of the cuffs clicking around your wrists. The reality of the situation began to set in, and for the first time, a sliver of fear crept in.

Jake met your eyes, and despite the cuffs, he managed to give you a reassuring smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady, “it’s gonna be fine.”

You nodded, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You wanted to believe him, but the weight of what could happen hung heavy in the air.

The officers escorted you and Jake to the back of their patrol car, opening the doors and motioning for you to get inside. You slid in first, Jake following closely behind, the door slamming shut behind him. The inside of the car smelled like leather and disinfectant, the overhead light casting a dim glow across your faces.

You slouched against the seat, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all. Jake caught your eye and raised an eyebrow.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft as the officers stood outside making phone calls.

You nodded, resting your head against the seat. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

Jake exhaled, his gaze drifting toward the flashing blue lights reflecting in the window. “Your dad’s gonna kill me.”

You let out a soft laugh, the tension easing slightly. “He might. But hey, at least we’ve got a good story now.”

Jake chuckled, leaning his head back against the seat, his eyes closing briefly. “Yeah, some story. 'Remember that time we got cuffed for watching jets take off?'”

You grinned, leaning your head against his shoulder. “You know, we could try to make a run for it.”

His eyes snapped open, and he turned to you, disbelief written all over his face. “You’re crazy.”

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Maybe. But you love it.”

He shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “I do.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of the situation fading as the minutes ticked by. Outside, the officers were still making calls, seemingly in no rush to let you go. But you didn’t care. In this moment, sitting in the back of a patrol car, cuffed and facing who knew what kind of trouble, all that mattered was being here with Jake.

He glanced over at you again, his expression softening as he took in the way the blue lights danced in your eyes. He couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked, even in a situation like this. And for a second, all his worries about tomorrow and whatever consequences awaited him melted away.

“Your dad’s never gonna let me see you again, is he?” Jake asked, half-joking, though there was a hint of concern in his voice.

You smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “We’ll figure it out.”

Just then, the familiar sound of car tires on the gravel made you both look up. The unmistakable silhouette of your father, Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, appeared in the distance, his boots crunching rhythmically against the gravel as he approached the patrol car. The blue and red lights cast long shadows over his form, and even from inside the car, you could see the tightness in his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. He was pissed, no doubt about it.

Jake shifted beside you, his relaxed demeanor faltering for the first time since the police had shown up. His face fell, the reality of the situation finally hitting him. “This is gonna be bad,” he muttered under his breath, glancing sideways at you.

You could only nod, your stomach twisting with a mix of dread and embarrassment. If there was one thing that had always been constant in your life, it was your dad’s protective nature. And now, seeing him storming toward the car—where you sat in the back, hands cuffed, with Jake beside you—it felt like you were about to face the full force of it.

Just as Maverick reached the car, the officer nearest the door gave you and Jake a nod, his face stern as he reached for the door handle. 

“Alright, out you two,” he said, his voice gruff but controlled. 

He opened the door, and the cool night air rushed in, cutting through the warmth of the enclosed space. Jake was the first to move. He slid out of the seat with a quiet grunt, his wrists still bound by the cuffs as he straightened to his full height. The officer standing nearby gave him a once-over, clearly unimpressed, before placing a hand on Jake’s arm to guide him to the side of the car.

Then it was your turn. You followed Jake’s lead, scooting across the seat and stepping out into the gravel. The moment your feet hit the ground, you felt the weight of everything hit you all at once—the flashing lights, the tension in the air, and your dad’s unwavering gaze locked on the two of you. The officers didn’t waste time; you were both led a few paces away from the car, standing side by side as Maverick looked between you and Jake with that intense, assessing stare.

Jake, to his credit, stood still and silent, his jaw clenched tightly. You could sense the regret rolling off him in waves. His shoulders were stiff, and for once, he seemed unsure of what to say. Not that there was much he could say to fix the situation.

Maverick’s eyes moved between the two of you, taking in the sight of his daughter cuffed and standing beside Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin. His frustration was palpable, but the way he lingered on you for a second longer made your stomach twist. This wasn’t just anger—this was disappointment.

The older officer cleared his throat, drawing Maverick’s attention for a moment. “Captain Mitchell, sir,” he said, more formally now, clearly aware of the gravity of the situation.

Maverick’s gaze didn’t leave you and Jake, his arms crossing over his chest. “What’s going on here?”

The officer quickly explained, outlining how they’d found you both in a restricted area and how neither of you had proper authorization. The moment he finished, there was a beat of silence. Maverick’s eyes narrowed as they settled on Jake.

“Lieutenant Seresin,” he said slowly, his voice deceptively calm, “care to explain why I’m getting a call in the middle of the night saying my daughter’s in the back of a patrol car with you?”

Jake straightened up, squaring his shoulders. “Sir, it’s on me. I brought her out here. I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t,” Maverick cut him off, his voice sharp. “You didn’t think at all, clearly.”

You winced at the harshness of his tone, knowing this wasn’t going to go over well. The officer standing beside Jake glanced between the two men, but remained silent. Maverick’s gaze shifted to you, and the weight of his stare made your heart sink.

“Y/N, you know better than this,” Maverick said, his voice firm but with an edge of concern. “You know what happens when you break the rules, especially on a military base. What were you thinking?”

You looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Maverick sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning to the officers. “Can you take the cuffs off?”

The younger officer hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. “Sure, Captain.” He stepped forward and unlocked Jake’s cuffs first. Jake gave a slight nod of thanks but didn’t move otherwise, still standing rigid beside you.

Then it was your turn. The officer released the cuffs from your wrists, and you immediately rubbed at the sore spots where the metal had bitten into your skin. The weight of the cuffs was gone, but the tension hanging between the three of you was suffocating.

Maverick gave the officers a short nod, signaling for them to step back. Then he crossed his arms again, his eyes flickering between you and Jake. “You two are lucky it was just the military police who found you,” he said, his voice low but filled with authority. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened if this got reported up the chain? You’re both smart enough to know better.”

Jake shifted beside you, finally finding his voice again. “Sir, I take full responsibility. Y/N shouldn’t get in trouble for this. She was just with me. If there’s any punishment, it should be mine.”

Maverick’s gaze hardened as he stared down Jake, a long silence stretching between them. Finally, Maverick spoke, his voice cold. “This isn’t about punishment, Seresin. This is about trust. You’ve got my daughter out here, breaking rules, putting herself in a dangerous position, and you didn’t think for one second about what that means?”

Jake flinched, guilt flashing across his face. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to put her in danger.”

Maverick exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he turned to you, his expression softening just slightly. “You okay?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the situation settle even heavier on your shoulders. “Yeah… I’m okay. I’m sorry, Dad.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Maverick said, his voice gentler now, though the tension still lingered. “But you’re coming home with me.”

He turned back to Jake, his face hardening again. “And you, Lieutenant… this doesn’t go on your record, but if you’re serious about my daughter, you’d better start using your head.”

The night air hung heavy as Maverick walked back toward his car, his command still lingering in the space between you and Jake. Though the cuffs were off and the immediate crisis seemed to be over, you couldn’t shake the knot tightening in your chest. Maverick wasn’t letting this slide easily, and both you and Jake knew it.

“Lieutenant Seresin,” Maverick called out, his voice stern and carrying authority, making it clear this wasn’t a request.

Jake, who had been silently rubbing his wrists, snapped to attention. He straightened up, his posture rigid, falling back into his role as a Navy officer. “Yes, sir.”

Maverick’s gaze hardened as he took a step closer, his voice unwavering. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to say goodnight to my daughter, and then you’re going straight back to your quarters. No stops, no detours. Understood?”

Jake nodded, his usual confidence visibly absent. “Yes, sir.”

Maverick’s eyes narrowed slightly, the warning in his expression unmistakable. “And Lieutenant… Don’t think this is over because you apologized. You put her in danger tonight, and that doesn’t sit well with me. I expect better from you.”

Jake flinched at the words, his jaw tightening as the guilt in his eyes deepened. “I understand, sir,” he said quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

Maverick held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded toward you. “Go on. Say goodnight.”

Jake exhaled and turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of regret and something softer, more vulnerable. As he stepped closer, he hesitated for a second, glancing briefly toward Maverick, then back to you.

Without saying a word, he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you with a tenderness that melted the tension in your body. You let out a shaky breath, resting your head against his chest as the warmth of the embrace momentarily blocked out everything else—your dad’s watchful eyes, the police cars, the chaos of the night.

Jake leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead instead of your lips, a gesture that felt protective, as if he were trying to shield you from the weight of everything that had happened. “I love you,” he whispered against your skin, his voice rough with emotion. “This won’t change anything. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You nodded against his chest, your throat tight with unspoken words. “I love you too,” you whispered back.

Jake squeezed you gently one last time before letting go. You could see the strain in his expression, the regret hanging heavy in his posture as he pulled away. He gave you a small, reassuring smile as if trying to make everything feel less complicated, even though you both knew it wasn’t.

You reached out, pulling him in for one final hug, a silent goodbye filled with the promise that things weren’t over between you. Jake closed his eyes briefly as he held you, then slowly stepped back, his hands lingering on your arms for a moment longer before he let you go completely.

Turning away from you, he walked toward Maverick, who stood by the car with his arms crossed, his expression still stern but no longer as harsh. Jake gave him a sharp nod, acknowledging the silent tension that still lingered between them.

“Get going, Lieutenant,” Maverick said, his voice firm. “And don’t let me hear about you being anywhere other than your quarters tonight.”

Jake nodded, his voice steady but low. “Yes, sir.”

Without another word, Jake turned and headed toward his truck. You watched as he got in, glancing in your direction once more before he started the engine. The sound of his truck pulling away filled the quiet night, and soon enough, the taillights disappeared into the darkness.

Maverick let out a slow breath once Jake was gone, his rigid stance loosening ever so slightly. He turned toward you, his expression softening as he stepped closer, his eyes searching your face. “You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, filled with the concern of a father who had been shaken but was trying to hide it.

You nodded, though your heart was still racing. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Maverick sighed, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you into a hug. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he murmured, patting your back gently. “Let’s get you home now.”

You leaned into him, finding comfort in the familiar embrace, but even as you walked with him toward his car, your thoughts remained on Jake, his whispered promise still echoing in your mind.

[bangaveragewhitewine]

laundry day

Dad!Eddie Munson X Mom!Reader 

Laundry day in the Munson residence. 

Word Count: 1.1k

Author’s Note: After weeks and weeks of struggling to write, I finished something and I’m genuinely happy with how it turned out. It’s short, it’s sweet. I hope you like it!  

proofread by @specialagentmonkey (best!!), dividers by @saradika-graphics

Nimble fingers pluck freshly washed socks from the basket, pinching wooden pegs to hang them carefully from the washing line in the garden. 

You watch him with a smile on your face, thinking of his reaction if you had told him all those years ago that this was how it would be. Ink-stained and guitar-string scarred fingers that rolled joints with muscle memory alone, hanging out baby clothes on the washing line in the garden. Your garden. A green patch of land sewn up tight against the house; your home together, a few miles from the city.

You think he would laugh, deep dimples and that smoky cackle and perhaps a hopeful sparkle in his eyes, if you told him all those years ago that this is how it ends up. The two of you standing side by side, barefoot in the grass, hanging out baby clothes,  watching them flutter in the breeze against the big blue sky.

Do we make it out of here? I didn’t fuck things up, did I? Am I good… A good Dad? 

He places the pegs delicately to drape one of his t-shirts (black) next to one of her sleepsuits (pastel yellow), hanging by the toes. A pair of your undies, two pairs of his boxers, another pair of tiny socks.

Eddie cried the first time he held one of her socks. The gravity and weight of this tiny thing, its overwhelming magnitude. His world was forever changed after he held that scrap of white cotton. An intimidatingly small sock that fit in the palm of his hand, its pair laid out on the bed with the spoils of your shopping trip - vests and baby grows and mittens. 

“Why am I crying? What the hell, it’s so small?!” He had laughed through tears and you laughed with him until you held each other crying a salty blend of happy and terrified tears. And then Melody came and she cried and smiled and laughed, and she wore those tiny socks.

She looks just like him, follows him like his shadow. Dark curls, big brown eyes, impish mischief. He taught her how to headbang as soon as her neck was strong enough. Toddling now, she squats on her baby-fat legs and dips clumsily into the laundry basket to hand him one of her socks, then one of yours, one of his own, and on and on until the basket is empty.

“Thank you. Thank you, Mel. Thank you very much.” Letting her know her help is invaluable after every item is passed and pegged. 

She beams at Eddie with that sunshine-bright smile, appreciating his appreciation of her helpfulness. Sometimes she will look over at you, sitting on the picnic blanket full of forgotten toys and books, and wave or babble-tell you how helpful she’s being with one hand on her Dad’s leg to keep her steady.

“You’re such a good helper, Melody. Good job!” wiggling your fingers her way before she goes back to helping, handing Eddie one of her t-shirts.

“Dada.”

“Thank you kindly, Miss.” 

When he reaches down for the next item, mentally calculating how many pegs are left and how much washing there is still to hang, Melody reaches up without anything to hand him. 

“Up!” 

“Up? Am I hanging you with the laundry?” Eddie asks, hands on his hips. You bite your lip, smiling at their standoff.

“Up, Dada!”

He is easily weakened by her doe eyes and that pouty lower lip. A critical hit through the Melody-shaped chinks in his armour. 

He sounds more like Wayne when he lifts her, knees creaking and his back twinging, and settles her on his hip. A kiss and then another shared as she holds on tight, their heads together and you can’t tell where her curls stop and where Eddie’s begin.

“Is that better? See, these are the socks you handed me.” He pokes one with his finger, smiles when she shadows him. “Mama’s socks and Melody’s pyjamas. Daddy’s vest.”

He pinches a peg, hands it to her to inspect as you cross the garden to join them.  

“Hi, Mama.” Eddie smiles, warm like the sun, and draws you close with his arm around your waist.

“Hi, Daddy.” His unshaven cheek bristles against your lip, prickly but no less lovely than Melody���s baby-soft face as you dole out kisses. “Hi, darling girl.”

“Mama!”

Okay, maybe her cheek is a little more addictively kissable and you find your nose nuzzling the warm pocket of her neck until she’s shriek-giggling right in her Dad’s ear. His battle-worn eardrums from decades of heavy metal are no match for her, making his eye twitch. 

“Jesus. The pipes on this kid,” he tuts, blowing a raspberry on her other cheek for good measure until her laughter rings through the garden, mingling with your own in-love-with-life laugh.

Eddie’s laughter is low in his throat lest he unleash that near-dastardly cackle into the sky. The low rumble settles into your bones and you feel fit to burst with how happy you are. How lucky you are. 

Eddie’s fingers slip beneath the hem of your t-shirt, squeezing your waist as you curl against him. Three bodies swaying gently in the breeze like the clean clothes that flutter on the washing line. 

Barefoot in the green grass, you balance the laundry basket on your hip, passing the last few socks and vests to Eddie. Passing them slowly, you watch as he guides Melody’s little fingers to drape and peg them carefully. He murmurs praise against the crown of her head, presses proud kisses against the curls they share.

The basket is empty and you step back, admiring their hard work. A washing line full of clean clothes - band shirts and sleepsuits and socks in three sizes. There are bedsheets and towels and Eddie’s work overalls still to be washed, clothes to be ironed and folded and put away inside your little house. They can wait. 

For now, you stand and watch the laundry in the gentle breeze against the big blue sky. You think about the boy you fell in love with; the blush on his cheeks when you first held his hand and the way he smiled at you after the first kiss. You think of the late nights lying on his bed, dreaming out loud about the future and wishing on shooting stars and fallen eyelashes that one day those dreams would come true. 

Eddie is already looking at you when you turn your head. Thinking about the girl he fell in love with, thinking about how he would have smiled if you told him all those years ago that this would be how his life turned out; still side by side, hanging baby clothes on the washing line in your garden. 

thank you for reading! reblogs, comments & likes are cherished and adored

[solxamber]

Romance Clichés With: Kalim Al-Asim

Cliché: Been here all along

Others: Leona ; Azul ; Vil ; Idia ; Jamil ; Riddle

You and Kalim had a routine. Every so often, you’d sit him down and give him the ultimate spa treatment—fancy hand scrubs, oils, and finally, a glossy layer of nail polish. He’d become your cheerful test subject, and he loved it. Any chance to sit close to you and listen to your latest stories was pure gold for him.

Today, as you meticulously painted his nails in the prettiest shade of gold (because, really, what else for the heir of the Asim family?), you were in the middle of a rant. Kalim was sitting cross-legged across from you, his hands splayed out on a small towel between you, his smile broad and his attention entirely on you.

"And then," you continued, voice full of indignation, “Ace has the nerve to say, 'Maybe you just aren't good at picking teams.’ Like excuse me, who carried us in that last game?"

You didn’t catch the soft laugh he let out or the way his eyes never left your face. You were lost in your tirade, as he’d seen you get so many times. To Kalim, though, your frustration was the cutest thing he’d ever witnessed. He didn’t care if you were ranting about terrible teamwork or about Ace’s complete lack of respect for your skills; he just loved being here, with you, listening to every word you said.

“I mean, do I not deserve a little credit here?” you huffed, lifting his hand to blow lightly on his nails, setting the polish. “A little respect?”

“I respect you!” Kalim chimed in with all the enthusiasm in the world, his grin stretching even wider as you glanced up at him, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, you’re the only one apparently,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know how you put up with me sometimes. You’re a saint.”

Kalim giggled. “Aw, it’s easy. You’re, like, my favorite person in the world!” he replied, so naturally, as if he hadn’t just dropped a little confession right there in the open.

That made you pause. Something about his tone was so genuine, so incredibly warm, that you finally noticed the look on his face. Kalim was gazing at you with those big, sparkling eyes of his, his expression as open as the sky—completely adoring, soft and fond, like he was seeing every word you spoke as something precious. There was something in his smile, in the gentle way he watched you, that made your heart do a funny little flip.

“...Wait a minute,” you said, unable to tear your gaze away from him. “Are you actually serious?”

Kalim tilted his head, smile never wavering. “Of course I am!” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because…” You faltered, suddenly feeling a bit flustered. “I mean, you always seem so… I didn’t think you actually…”

Kalim’s face lit up, and he gave a little laugh, like he couldn’t believe you didn’t get it yet. “I think you’re incredible, you know that? You’re always there for everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. You’ve been here for me since day one,” he said, sounding almost in awe. “How could I not love you?”

For a second, you were speechless. Your mind raced, piecing together every look he’d ever given you, every laugh, every little moment you two had shared, and it all suddenly made sense. The way he was always so enthusiastic to spend time with you, the way he lit up when you entered the room, the way he seemed so content just sitting beside you while you went on about the most mundane things…

It was like a light bulb flickered on in your head. He’s… he’s loved me all along.

“Kalim,” you said softly, a bit of awe creeping into your voice, “I think I just realized that… I love you, too.”

Kalim’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling in pure joy. “Really?” he asked, like he’d won the lottery. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since forever!”

His joy was contagious, and before you knew it, you were grinning like an idiot, a warmth spreading through your chest. “Since forever, huh?” you teased, gently setting his hands down so you could lean in closer. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He shrugged, giggling. “I was gonna! But I was waiting for the perfect moment.” He glanced at his freshly painted nails and then up at you with that boyish grin of his. “And hey, I think this turned out to be pretty perfect.”

You let out a laugh, both of you breaking into delighted smiles as you moved to take his hand in yours, his fingers still a little tacky from the polish. “You’re an absolute dork, you know that?”

“Maybe!” he agreed, shamelessly. “But I’m your dork now, right?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but your heart was thumping wildly, and you knew there was no one else you’d rather be sitting here with, exchanging goofy smiles. “Yeah,” you admitted, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “You’re my dork.”

Kalim let out a soft, dreamy sigh, tilting his head to look at you like you’d just promised him the world. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes half-lidded in bliss, and he practically melted beside you. “I can’t believe this is real…” he murmured, voice full of wonder.

“Oh, it’s real alright.” You gave his hand a squeeze, already thinking of all the things you wanted to do now that the truth was out. Date nights, laughing over silly things, maybe even bringing him along to rant to about every single Ace-induced annoyance. “We’re really doing this.”

And with one last look of pure adoration, Kalim leaned forward, grinning. “I’m so happy,” he whispered before pulling you into the warmest, most joyous hug you’d ever felt. You were both laughing, a perfect mess of feelings as you hugged him back, finally realizing you’d both been here all along, waiting for this exact moment.

Masterlist

[webbluvrsugar]

babydaddy!JJ taking your son to the beach

JJ was laidback, laidback enough to forget that he was taking your little boy to the beach, laidback enough to arrive at 6:00PM at your place when your son has already been crying all day because his ‘daddy’ didn’t come, and when seeing the tearful look on the kid’s face, he could help but beg you to let him take him, almost getting down one one knee and saying “Please, I — I know I fucked up but he’s my son, aight? I can’t see him sad like that.” to convince you, doing everything to get you to let him take the boy, and when you finally do and grab your son’s little chubby hand, saying that in fact, his dad came, he was just a little too late, the boy light up immediately, letting out cheerful sounds when placed on top of his shoulders.

“Make sure he has fun.” You tell him, no, demand, because if he makes his day suck after forgetting he was even meant to come, you’ll probably kill him, and he knows it.

“I — I will.” He nods intensely, making sure you can see he’s regretful.

“And don’t let him eat rocks, nor sticks, or sand, or fuckin — bugs, don’t let him eat bugs.” You point a finger at him, your son pushes it away and makes a ‘pshhhh’ sound, definitely influence from his father while you frown and correct him.

“Hey, I’m not that bad of a father!” He raises his hands, the kid slightly tilting on his shoulders before he tugs JJ’s blonde locks.

“Whatever, get him here before nine.” You sigh.

JJ nodded again, gulping as he turns away from you. “Ready to go punch some sharks?” He asks your kid, he smiles brightly, lightly slapping on his father’s shoulders.

“Yeaa!!” He giggles, his tiny arms shooting at the sky, JJ hypes him up, completely ignoring your wish as you shout ‘No punching!!’ to them, closing the door when they walk away.

JJ makes sure the kid has a great day as you said, he rolls him on the sand until they’re all dirty, plays catch with him as if he’s a pup because he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, dunks the kid head first in the water, makes him fall by placing a foot in front of him, everything that he knows you would probably disapprove of before finally quieting down, gathering around some small wooden shop.

“Woaaaah look at that fucking board, buddy.” JJ whispers while dragging his kid closer to the store while they leave the beach. “Shit’s amazing!” He smiles in excitement, the little mini version of him smiles too.

“Shit’s amazing!” The toddler shouts, JJ immediately gets a frowny look from the cashier, as if reminding him directly of you, he gulps, stays silent before pulling the kid away.

“Yeah whatever, maybe let’s just… get you home to yo’mama.” He sighs, he can already feel that whenever they get to your place, he’s in trouble.

“Fucking board!” The kid repeats, flapping in excitement as he takes little steps towards the sand, his crocs long forgotten somewhere around the beach.

“Hey! Don’t say that again, and… start walking faster.” JJ picks up the kid on his arms, starting to run with the boy again.

When they get there, he’s got this huge, proud smile on his face, the boy’s hair is filled with sand, maybe a few tiny rocks, his clothes a bit wet too.

“Where are his crocs?” It’s the first thing you ask, tilting your head and raising a brow.

“Donated.” JJ smirks.

“To where?” You take a step forward.

“The ocean.” He chuckles, the kid leaves his grasp to stand at your side as you roll your eyes. “But hey, got him here before nine.” He points out.

You scoff, kneel down before your kid before asking him: “Did you have fun?” You smile and he nods, one hand coming to rub a mix of sand and dirt off his cheek. “Yeah? How was it?” You ask again, just to make sure, a little smile peers at his lips.

“Shit’s amazing!” He repeats, clapping and giggling before looking at his father.

You give JJ one short glance, he can feel his mood — and pride — fade right before your eyes.

“Yeah…. real rude woman at the beach, kept cursing, you wouldn’t believe it if you saw it,” he pauses, grabbing your face and pressing a peck to your lips as he slowly walks back.

“Which is why I have to go and you just… correct our little champ.”

taglist: @nemesyaaa