#Tom cruise x reader

[mqverick]

red murder || . ｡˚ ✧

mature themes, 18+

blood mentioned, consider yourselves warned

“Shower me in blood, child

Shower me in lipstick.”

·:*────────── ✮ ───────── *:·

A biblical angel. The meaningless chatter of the riches was faintly evident in the atmosphere as you locked eyes with someone, who you didn’t know at all, who had such a striking stare into, not only your weak eyes, but also your entire body. He looked like a biblical figure, an angel perhaps, but there was something about the way he stood, shoulder lazily leaned against the velvet curtain, that pegged him not to be a creature of purity.

No, he was so distinguished and poignant, that it made you forget who you even were. Despite the fact that he was the one boring into your soul, you found yourself inexplicably dependent upon the gaze he’d cast on you, as if your heart would simply get squeezed stopped if he looked away.

Captivating could be another word to describe the façade of the luscious blonde haired stranger, eyes politely stiffed into the pockets of his expensive, elegant coat, decorated by golden buttons that shone under the dim light of the room. His eyes were either gray or hazy blue; either way they drew you in dangerously, causing you to get deeply lost in their shadowy gravitation. You wondered why he was, only for the sake of it, knowing well that the chances of getting to see him outside of the gathering were close to zero. Nevertheless, your insides turned painfully up and down as he kept the eye contact strong as ever, mind twisting at the thought of what he could possibly be thinking about.

Whoever he was, you hoped dearly that he’d have no ability to read minds, otherwise you were as good as gone. You were still young and inexperienced, but that never stopped your imagination. The corners of his lips turned into a slight smirk as he finally looked away, giving you the chance to regain control over yourself and remember how it felt to breathe. Who was he?

You opted to avoid approaching him, dreading the inevitable possibility of fainting upon his aristocratic stance. You walked into the mass of the crowd, fading into the pretentious laughters and snickers, heart beating fast into your chest as you placed your gloved hand over it on your chest, hoping it’d help it get back to its steady rhythm. You found escape in a dark hallway.

You felt dizzy just by the look of a wanderer in a charity ball. You took a deep breath, squeezed your eyes shut to regain your consciousness and let your pupils blur back to their senses. Your chest heaved painfully when you caught sight of his piercing icy eyes glowing into the obscurity of the room. You need to run, a tiny voice rang in your head, but the buzzing sounds of the blood pumping right into your ears was too loud to not cover the challenging warnings of your inner conscience. Your legs stayed frozen in place, blood running cold in your throbbing veins.

He finally approached you, slowly but with steady steps. The limited light blended with his skin, which you could still barely make out as his eyes moved up and down your body. He looked abnormal once again and you wanted to scream from the top of your lungs, but something inside you prevented you from making the smallest sound. You opted for playing it nonchalant.

“Have we met?” you asked firmly, eyebrows knitting together at the soft chuckle he let out.

“I believe not, at least not yet. I’ve noticed you. From across the room you captured my attention,” the curves of his mouth went up slightly as the smirk on his face grew larger and evidently smugger. “Don’t be nervous, my love.”

“Me nervous?” you asked, voice trembling now.

“Indeed you are, no? The way you’re standing here just like you stood back in the main room, all by yourself. Legs weak, the small shake of your knees… I can see it all.” His eyes wandered down your neck, growing particularly fond of the little vein there pump your warm, sweet blood. You followed his gaze, unable to see what he was so fixated on, catching back his attention as you pulled your sleeve higher up the shoulder in a kind of discomfort that you couldn’t really explain.

“What are you?” you found yourself questioning.

Not who, but what. The name and origin of the man did not concern you as much as how he possibly managed to look so pale, yet stand alive in front of you very eyes, with such a pompous demeanor. He chuckled, still intensely gazing at the side of your neck, down to your collarbone, then back at your lips. Shivers ran down your spine, but you kept your calmness, at least on the outside. You slightly tilted your head and waited for an answer, but instead, he gave you a smile.

One that you could not read for the sake of it.

Was he enjoying holding you in the emotional state of mind that you were in that moment, while he stood barely five steps away from you? you pondered quietly in your head, but it was almost as the man in front of you could read every single thought behind that head of yours. Your heart drummed against your chest, you backed away with every small step he took closer to you.

“Don’t be frightened, my love. I mean no harm.”

The tone of his voice and newfound appearance, that you’d truly never seen in any other person before, pegged you to think otherwise. “Quit calling me that,” you gritted through your teeth.

“Fine. Maybe I do mean you a little harm.” He burst out in chuckles the second he noticed your eyes slightly widen at his statement. You were at loss of words — what was so amusing to him?

“What is it that you need from me?” you tried again, but there was nothing you could possibly elicit from him that wasn’t a snarky snicker or stomach aching smirk. Your eyes fogged with fear and an inexplicable desire for knowing him better as you watched him grin the same time your pulse quickened significantly. You took another cautionary step back. He took one forward.

“I want to give you the choice…” he said carefully upon the cell of your ear, long fingers coming up to slightly graze against the skin of your jawline. He lets the sharp edge of his metallic ring barely, just barely, follow the curve of your cheek, causing a thin, white line to form as he pressed with enough force to just see a scar forming, but not letting any blood come out of it. You couldn’t help but feel the sensation of pure bliss to the way he touched your face, even though the voice that urged you to save yourself and run was getting louder and louder by every passing second. “…That I never had. You could come with me, spend the rest of your life by my side, be the companion that I’ve longed for for years.”

Your heart was racing. You were astonished by the choice — half of a choice, you’d call it, since he hadn’t given you the second part of it yet — he’d proposed. You could feel every vein, either thick or thin, pump wildly the blood through it, until it reached up in your brain, blinding it completely from any logic you’d ever owned. “And why shall I be the companion of a man I’ve barely spoken five words to?” you replied sarcastically.

“Because I could take all the pain away. Give you a life like mine… where pain, suffering and death don’t exist. I could make you stronger, faster, smarter, give you all that the world has to offer, that you mortals never seem to seize… or even understand. You could be forever youthful. Just give yourself to me.” Your breath got suddenly stuck in your throat, a look of shock temporarily wrapping around your reddening eyes as you kept them open, momentarily forgetting how to blink.

“And what would happen if I don’t wish for that?”

He looked up, as if mockingly enough for your poor naivety, then swiftly grabbed you by the throat, your voice disappearing instantly. His fingers gripped around the sides and you felt his ring hurting into the skin, but it felt as though he’d cast some sort of spell that could not enable the sense to escape or even speak. “I could take your life away and no one would even come to find you,” he whispered gently in your ear.

Once he removed his hand from around your neck, you could finally start breathing again as the dizzying blur slowly faded away. He looked at you with anticipation, waiting for your reply.

“And how shall you ever do that? I could scream right now and have you be the one lying dead.”

“So blissfully unaware…” he mumbled softly, and like a ray of light, you heard him hiss as something sharp — the hard surface of… teeth… more specifically fangs? — threateningly bordered on the lower side of your exposed neck, which he held with his hand, tilting your head towards the wall that was across from you.

The epiphany hit you so suddenly and quickly that you had to refrain yourself from yelping, now finally out of the state of oblivion you danced around into. A vampire. A vampire, you figured, kept muttering in your hallowing brain in order to genuinely get yourself to pull out of the fanzines of what could’ve been a dreadful nightmare, when it was reality, hard, cold reality splashing into you like a bucket of freezing ice water.

“I’d rather you finish me than make me that loathsome creature of your own,” you struggled to breathe out, nevertheless the voice came out firm and dominant, to which Lestat turned a blind eye to as he moved up closer, invading your personal space and almost having you pinned against the rocky surface of the wall behind you.

“Your wish shall be my command, my child.”

The last thing that you remembered before a soul consuming cloud of darkness covered the bright ability of vision you owned was the faded blur of the vampire kneeling down, as you slowly began to lose sense and control over your own legs and brain. Lestat, as you’d found out his name was, had been sitting by your side on the maroon silky sheets of his own bed, carefully running his long, skinny fingers through your neat locks. The way the lamp on his nightstand shone made your hair look like they were going to catch on fire. The vampire hummed in pleasure as he let his eyes flutter shut for just one second, during which he only came in contact with the feel of your velvety hair that so smoothly rolled around his steady digits. A first blink, then another. You were in a room that you didn’t recognize, nor felt comfortable in. Your pupils were dilated as you awoke from the slumber, sclera pinkish to red instead of white, as if you’d been crying.

Nothing about the setting felt familiar. Your sighting soon got restored and the heart was caught inside your throat when you laid your eyes upon his face, golden hair falling on top of his shoulders, face pale — almost white — but still beautiful; like he was filled with life, as ironic as that may be. Suddenly, you were hit with all the memories that ruggedly formed into your brain before you’d fallen unconscious on him at that ball. You pulled back, your head just an inch from hitting the wall behind as he laughed amusedly.

“Wake up… I’ve waited for so long to hear you speak once more…” he spoke in a gentle whisper that almost felt like a lingering caress on your cheek, his eyes glittering in the dim light. “Wake up, my love.”

Your limbs were somewhat trembling, power of defense against him unknown, as you fought back the urge to scream from the top of your lungs, unable to prevent his next move. There was something about the way he’d sat next to you, all so calm and unbothered, you almost wished you knew what was going on in his mind behind those light blue — almost gray — eyes. It had caused a newfound sense of anxiousness for the unexpected to pit deeply into the curves of your stomach, retinas glossy and puffy as he moved his hand on top of yours. You retrieved it immediately, but the action didn’t seem to dishearten him enough to cut the physical contact with you. Instead, it encouraged him to stomp even further into your space, cold index finger lightly, almost caring, grazing the outline of your chin’s shuddering skin.

It felt rewarding for Lestat; having you in such a state of mind, helpless, completely at his mercy. Your fate depended solely upon him and him only, even if that meant you’d have to beg him to spare you. He had no hostile intentions towards you, though, just simply enjoyed the way the terror entered your body, as you fought against it.

“Don’t be afraid,” he cooed, but you snorted.

“You spoke the same words earlier and here I am, in the house of a stranger, vainly trying to gather back my senses.” The tone of your voice was still on the same line that you’d left it during the first conversation with him at the ball. If Lestat was blind, he would’ve foolishly believed you weren’t frightened by him at all, which excited him.

How was it possible that such a beautiful creature, human amongst humans, had managed to evade his attention all that time? The tip of his thumb padded the side of your jawline softly, rubbing small circles there. “You’re troubled, my dear. I must refrain from my nature if I want to have you by my side, thus you shall not be scared about my actions towards you.”

“And why such kindness, if I may ask?”

Lestat’s eyes lingered on each feature of your face as he drank in the image of you, the woman who had captivated him, as much to the character as to the looks. The hair delicately falling on your shoulders, stopping just before the curve of your breasts, which was deep enough for him to study, every detail of each curve. The fear that consumed you in that very moment, as he sat so close to you, made something in him stir, a hunger that could not and would not be denied.

“Your human nature… it fascinates me.” His grin broadened, his voice thick with desire. He slowly reached out, brushing away the hair on your soft cheek. “The way you perceive things so fiercely, even though death threatens you at every second. Mortality is a curse, my love. I would save you from it. But I have no need for your blood.”

“Oh, Lestat, but you’re a fool, I’m afraid,” you spoke with a satisfied smirk upon your lips. He tilted his head in confusion, still seemingly intrigued nevertheless. “Immortality makes a man miserable. You forget to love and live. And what is the purpose that you’ve brought me here for? Be your eternal companion? I’ll never be yours. Let the years make me your slave for as much time shall pass, but the end of my life will come and find me one day, and I’ll be free again.”

Lestat’s brows furrowed in frustration as he took your words in. “You’re such an ungrateful woman,” he gritted through his teeth, the previous sweetness of his voice now completely gone. There was a small fire burning in his eyes, but that didn’t frighten you either, seeing as you preferred him to kill you in rage rather than sugar talk you with fake desires. Your heart pounded.

“If you don’t let me go on your own terms, I’m going to scream. Kill me for it, if you must, I won’t bring any resistance. I’m giving you a choice.”

The irony of your own choice of words made Lestat’s blood boil. You, a no one human being, had the audacity to twist his words into a joke?

“Scream all you like, my dear. It would serve you no purpose.” And as soon as the sentence left his mouth, you screamed from the top of your lungs for help, eyes watering in anticipation. Lestat got up from the bed, leaned against the wall as he crossed his hands across his chest, waiting.

He watched you with his typical air of amusement as you screamed in terror. Finally, a maid entered the chamber, concern and stress written all over her tired face from the yell that had echoed all the way downstairs. Her poor French accent soon died down her lips as she asked “Ce qui s’est passé?” while looking around for any suspicious actions. Lestat took her by the throat, sinking his fangs deeply into the collarbone as he used the sharp ring on his thumb to cut a small line there open, killing her faster. The blood began to pour down the entire floor, thick, dark and warm. He looked refreshed as he pulled away, throwing her limb body onto the ground as you watched in utter fear and disgust. Not the tiniest hint of a sound was able to come out of you as you covered your mouth in shock, tears rolling down your cheeks. Your entire body felt electrified.

Lestat smiled, savoring your qualm. He came back closer to where you were sat, shaking his head in disapproval. “Look what you’ve caused now… Are you happy with yourself?” You turned to glare at him, flames shooting through your red eyes as he kept trying to hold a laugh back.

“You’re foul! That woman was not involved!”

Suddenly, his face hardened. “I told you no one would come to help you,” he spoke, standing over you, the blood of the maid dripping down his cheek, painting his clothed chest like an empty canvas. “You have no choice but to turn to me, for I am the only chance you have at survival.”

“I loathe you,” you gritted through your teeth.

Lestat couldn’t help but smile at your disdain. He approached you slowly, his eyes moving up your body and then to your neck. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he spoke once more, his voice a whisper. “Good. Use that hatred. Hate me as much as you desire. It won’t stop you from coming to me, it’ll only make the urge stronger.”

You sighed, falling back into the bed as your hands clasped tightly over your eyes, hair messy and unruly as part of you accepted that his words weren’t just a figment of imagination. Somehow, you’d found yourself deeply lost into his midwinter eyes, ebbed ever so gently with cement, accentuated every feature of his sharp characteristics, glistening like stars melted in platinum. You wanted more, just like the way he’d predicted; more of those eyes, of his life, of who and how he turned into a vampire, if he missed his mortality at all, whether or not he enjoyed poetry as much as you did…

Ravishing was a way to put it. Lestat had wrapped you helplessly around his angelic — or was it even demonic? — charm, pulling you in further and further just like core electrons are tightly bound to the nucleus. You wished to escape from the invisible grasp, but you couldn’t.

“Do you miss your mortality, Lestat?” you asked out of nowhere and he looked a bit taken aback by your choice of question. Nevertheless, he came and sat back by your side on the bed, allowing himself to admire the way the silky fabric of your dress had fallen just a tad down your smooth shoulders.

“At times I do…” he spoke without hesitating, his voice a gentle, almost scared, murmur as his eyes fell to the ground. “There are times when I yearn for the sensation of being human once more. I miss the sense of wonder and discovery that comes with being mortal, and the feeling of truly experiencing life for the first time...” He looked back up at you in front of him a faint smile curling on his lips. “You remind me of that feeling, my love. That is why I chose you.”

You sighed in defeat and despair. There was no possible way out of this, you reckoned, just needed to find the will and strength to make amends with what the future held for you.

───

The following night, you allowed him to dress you up in the prettiest dress you’d ever laid upon your body. The burgundy colour and the rich, but delicate fabric fell down your curves so harmoniously that Lestat looked mesmerized by the way it draped over you. He’d complimented your figure as lovely and even though the certain choice of words had given your mind a little dizzy spin, you’d shown zero reaction to him. Instead, you followed him, arm strictly wrapped around his own as you strolled down the dark paths, before he opened the door to a ravishing ball for you. The memories came crashing down like a violent wave of déjà vu, that you so desperately wanted to wash off your mind.

Ironically enough, with your arms entangled, you felt some inexplicable sort of safety. You didn’t recognize any of the people there, but Lestat had promised you a fancy night out, just for the sake of it — and who were you to say no? He narrated the background of the marquess, who was sat royally in the middle of the main hall, two young male servants on each side of where her chair was placed, laughing politely along with her.

“See her? That’s the widow St. Clair. She had that young fop murder her husband,” he whispered lowly into your ear, causing the small hairs on the back of your neck to tingle. You gave him a strange and unconvinced look.

“How dare you speak such words of felony?”

“I can read her thoughts,” Lestat’s voice rang clear, that same soft murmur filling his throat. He looked at you with a playful grin; he enjoyed watching your expressions as you came into realization of the extent of his abilities. He also noticed your sudden freeze, and the corners of his lips broadened. “The thoughts run deep inside a mortal’s mind. They’re so easy to read, and so tempting to listen to,” he whispered. His voice was soft, sensual as he came even closer to you...

“And… and you’ve invaded my thoughts already, I shall presume?” You didn’t need an answer to your own question, already confidently aware of what his reply would be. “What am I thinking of?”

His tone was gentle as his own thoughts wandered inside of your mind, listening to the sounds of your consciousness and the things you thought of. “You’re wondering why I’m even bringing you to such a social gathering. You’re contemplating a way to get out of it... but you’re also secretly curious as to what kind of people will be attending such an event,” he leaned into your ear, his breath coming out warm against your skin. “You’re scared, my love. I can hear your heart accelerating in your chest. The faint sounds of your mind wandering into unknown territory.”

Your cheeks grew red and the saliva barely made it past your throat as it slithered down the length of it in a painful manner. He’d read you like an open book and you didn’t even have to speak a word out loud for him to come to said assumption. It indeed terrified you; how he’d been able to invade the privacy of your own mind, how you weren’t and would never be able to stop him from doing such thing, simply because the desire to stay in peace was beyond your power.

Lestat let a small smirk cross over his face as you blushed. He had found it was rather humorous how he could always seem to have this effect on you. “Don’t be shocked. It’s a trick I’ve learned over my years as a vampire. It’s… become something I hold no control over; if I focus on one person too long, I can hear the innermost secrets of their mind, their desires… their sins.”

“Their desires, you say…?”

You couldn’t help the question when it flew out of your mouth, just like a young child yearning for knowledge of its world. Lestat smirked.

“Yes. Even their most intimate desires... it’s quite intriguing to see the depths of the mortal realm.”

“I want to know about your desires, in that case.”

“Is that so?” his low voice was inviting, close to seductive, you beckoned. His eyes momentarily took a glance at your long legs and the way the dress fell over them, before you spoke again.

“It’s only fair since you know my own ones, already. And don’t even dare deny such thing, I know for a fact that you’ve done it.”

“How perceptive of you, my beloved,” Lestat’s voice was still a soft whisper, tracing the outline of the call of your ear, and he stepped even closer to your side. His breath hitched slightly as he took in the scent of your skin, your femininity. His eyes traced down to your lips again, and his own desires came to life. “At this moment, my desires are simple... they include the two of us alone… together... no one else.”

“No one else…” you repeated with a fragile tone.

The vampire’s voice lowered as his eyes wandered down your body once more, taking in the way your chest rose and fell with your short breaths. “I imagine the two of us without the noise of the crowded ballroom. The way that no one else is there to hinder us… our bodies would merge together, with no one around to intrude as, you and I… free to do as we please.” His mind wandered to the possibility of you alone in his room, of what you could do.

“Oh?” you encouraged him to go on, as if less than twenty four hours ago, you hadn’t uttered out that you loathed him. “You’re always so poetic when you want to end up in bed with someone, Lestat? Speak more to me with what we’d do. In this volume of voice… these words…”

You were undoubtedly washed with a sense of newfound arousal for the vampire and it didn’t escape his attention. His voice had grown raspy with the words that poured from him, a certain type of hunger coming over him as you listened.

“I can’t help but wonder about your sudden change of heart,” he chuckled with a smirk.

“I’m weak at this very moment and I’m letting you take advantage of it. We’ll go back to your manor and we’ll have all the privacy we need… we can spend the night alone, together, as you said.”

His eyes were locked on yours as his mind continued to drift away into those lustful desires. He craved you, wanted you in a way that not even his vampire nature could fully comprehend. Your hands curled around the lapels of his silky shirt and you then run your fingers all the way down his body until they clasped around his own hands.

You couldn’t tell how the time passed, finding yourself from one moment to another; from a fancy, loud ballroom, to a oaken, hand carved door that led into a lavish French-furnished bedroom, which you had —oh, so well — gotten used to. There were heavy shades on the window, an almost magical mosquito netting falling across the sides from the bed, like golden tears. You looked around for a moment, trying to help the blur of your thoughts to comprehend that this was beyond a dream reality, that it was life.

Life, as ironic as it might seem.

Lestat walked behind you as he shut the door, step light and slow. He took his time with tracing the outline of your shoulder blades that the dress allowed you to reveal, his index finger gracefully teasing the skin with only the physical contact of the digit and the bit of the nail that stuck out. His breath hitched when his hand travelled lower on your back, right hand coming up to twirl the tip of the zipper playfully, silently asking you for permission for his next move. He’d ordered all the staff to leave, so that when you’d entered through the mansion’s doors, he’d locked it behind them.

He could see you hesitate, not that he cared much about it. It was certain to Lestat that once the silence fell in, you’d come to be too focused on your intimacy with him to think back on your own emotional barriers. His assumptions proved true, once he quickly unzipped your dress and you looked back at him from over your shoulder with parted lips, not complaining, not asking him to stop. His eyes were almost sparkling as the candle light flickered on your pale face.

“Lestat…” you hummed, mostly as a plead.

But he didn’t say anything back, just picked you up in his arms, laid you upon the velvet sheets of his bed and getting on top, his gaze captivating and unnerving, head tilting to the side so that he could plant a trail of wet, sensual kisses all the way down to your neck, his tongue resting against the veins that popped out as you stretched your head backward for better access.

Lestat’s body was pressed flushed against yours, his now wrinkled shirt fallen down midway through his shoulders, revealing his bare chest as his mouth travelled further down, his left hand gripping around your neck. He moaned softly as he tasted the sweet scent of your skin, the feeling of your pulse rising against his own body.

“Please,” his voice was an alluring murmur as he spoke, his thumb stroking your collarbone. He could feel the desire growing within him to posses you, take you as his own. “Let me have you.”

───

You reckoned it was still nighttime when your heavy eyelids began fluttering open. You recognised the sound of a soft snore next to your ear, a pair of still wet and plump lips caressing and tickling the spot right below your earlobe. You slightly rose from the bed, careful as to not disturb Lestat and rubbed your eyes, but you instantly regretted the action, seeing as the chilly weather trapped inside the huge room caused your underdressed body to shiver. You brought the covers close to your chin and appreciated Lestat’s features. His body next to you didn’t offer much warmth, but the just feeling of having him there in such state had your cheeks matching a crimson shade of red. You hummed in pleasure.

You didn’t mean to wake him, nor made any sound to achieve such thing, but somehow, he’d half-opened his stunning eyes. You were still afraid of him, even if it was somewhat there. He smiled unintentionally when he acknowledged your presence, but didn’t say a word.

“This… it doesn’t have to mean anything,” you were quick to speak in a shaky voice. He only offered you a chuckle in response, bringing a hand out to brush the hair that fell into your face back behind your cheek, hugging you closer to his body. You wanted to attempt to feel his heartbeat, but somehow, your own was loud enough to cover any other possibly existing sound.

Lestat pulled the blanket over the two of you and rested the side of his face on top of your head as he laid a gentle kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes again and he leaned closer, his lips hovering just above yours with his breath being warm and inviting, as if beckoning you to merge with his own body. “Dream of me, my darling.”

───

You poured the second steep and drank out of the fine china cup, noticing the fragrance of the tea. Sweet Vietnamese cinnamon with a hint of floral honeysuckle that began to wrap around your head like the ‘I rivali di se stessi’. You’d really outdone yourself with the tea, finding the variety of herbs and scents in Lestat’s kitchen a joyful surprise to kill time with. You’d woken to the sound of what was almost identical to the pitter patter of sensuous rain on the windowsill. You saw him sitting at the huge, shining black instrument that looked like the sky on a cool summer night, coaxing impossibly soothing and amazing melodies from it. Lestat seemed lost as his fingers flew over the keys like swallows darting in a pond for fish. You sat on the couch across from him and sipped your tea with tired eyes.

“Why’d you stop?” you questioned once the sound was gone and his fingers were just resting on top of his knees. His breath was lost, too.

“You want me to keep playing?” His voice was hoarse and rasped, and he seemed to have lost some of the energy he had when you’d first met him. You pondered the reason, but not out loud.

“Sure.” He began to play again, the same slow, sad melody. You couldn’t help but wonder if it reflected the way he’d been feeling inside. As his fingers strolled through the keys, he looked at you from time to time, almost as if he wanted to say something, but his words always failed him before. “…When did you learn to play?”

“Hm?” He looked away from the piano briefly, his hand not stopping from playing. He didn’t seem to expect the question however, and so he felt a bit taken back. He began to speak slowly, as if he had to think about his answer a little. “My mother taught me how to play. She was a musician and she was very talented. She was a pianist...” He paused to think again. He didn’t want you to know much about his past, especially his human years, but he didn’t want you to think that he was just trying to change the subject either.

“Oh?”

“Yes…” Lestat replied softly, his tone remained steady. “She taught me how to play music, but also helped me understand it. It’s a form of… expressing, even if you can’t physically say it, you play it. Play with your heart, your emotions.”

His hand continued under the same melody, although his voice felt a bit more nostalgic. Still, you watched intently, your eyes following his every movement slightly from over the cup you held against your lips. You’d taken a fancy to the way he spoke sometimes, to his life and past.

“Did you have any family? I mean, besides your mom…” You knew the question was wrong and uncalled for, but it felt as though a burden leapt out from your body as it left your curious mouth. Lestat removed his hands from the instrument and got up. The heart trapped against your ribs was hammering, unable to know what feelings and memories of his you’d just triggered.

“Family?”

“Yeah,” you assured him. He didn’t seem any kin to reply to your question, however. “I’ve run away from mine. Mother held a knife to my throat every time settling down was mentioned amongst the family dinners. Said I’m old enough to convert to a church and become a nun. I don’t particularly care for marriage or any other form of settling down for that matter. I’ve got a free spirit that won’t rest until I travel in every inch of the world.”

You noticed him smile a little, weakly. But you could see him hesitating, hold back, suddenly all stiff. You asked him again about his family, but the only thing you managed to get out of him was a defeated murmur about the story having faded along the line, that it didn’t matter anymore.

“My story is much similar to yours… but it’s a long one, and it’s mostly full of unpleasant memories,” he said softly. Lestat could see in your gaze an unspoken desire to know more of his past, but he couldn’t allow you to witness the ugly side of him just yet. You urged to push him to reveal more, nevertheless, genuinely interested and curious.

“You ran away too?”

“It’s none of your concern to know that.”

His tone raised, frustrated now. You’d hit a nerve, it was certain, but would you risk to upscale his mood, whose limitations you hadn’t explored yet? You simply stared at him as he walked towards the heavy, red and golden curtains, turning his back at you. It wasn’t hard to realise that he couldn’t bare look at you, that if he did, you might’ve taken advantage of reading the raw emotions across his features, a curse that followed him through his early teenage years, up until for all eternity — as the future held to him.

“Whose concern is it then? I don’t see anyone else trapped in this prison of a manor!”

“Prison... prison?!” Lestat heard the comment, and it caused him to feel anger stir inside of him. You didn’t know what a prison felt like, this estate and this mansion was... “This estate is not a prison,” he said harshly, before yanking you by the arm and dragging you across the room in swift movements, all the way down to the basement.

The door that opened to the cold and damp room was torn down, old enough that the woody material on it had lost its brownish colour. Instead, it was a light beige, spider webs all over the rusty metal mechanisms that held it together. He pushed you inside, throwing you with force that caused you to miss your step and fall flat painfully against the dusty ground. He slammed the door behind you as he got in, teeth gritted.

“What the devil is going on inside your sick mind?!” you screamed, getting up back on your legs as you dusted your dress off. Your eyes matched his, sharp, snapping as they glowered.

“You want to live in a prison, yes? Have my blessing in that case,” he responded. You’d insulted him, the place he owned and grew himself up in. He held the door handle shut as he leaned against the door with his back facing it, patiently awaiting for your pleads to let you go. You understood that he wasn’t planning on freeing you any time soon and the anger bubbled within your nerves, matches starting fires in your head and heart. You didn’t mean the words that came out of you in the unfortunate moment, or maybe you did, to some extent, but it still hurt.

“I understand now why the memories of your family must be so unpleasant. No one would want a child like you, so arrogant and selfish. I pity the poor people!” Each letter escaped from your lips with poisonous stabs in Lestat’s heart.

He was stunned as the words reached his ears, hadn’t expected you to resort yourself in such a low place. “Is that so?” He needed to stay mad, slap you, punish you — do something, but all he could bring himself to dwell on were his years as a child, a human. He stared at you, reminiscing every detail, getting to live in his mortal body and soul for one last time as you speechlessly stared back at him, not finding the courage to apologize for the cruel level you’d stooped to. He heard you mutter his name as he almost broke the door in attempt of pushing it open, disappearing into his bedroom and locking himself inside. Ironically, his coffin felt freezing that night.

Lestat had lost the sense of understanding the climate around him a few centuries ago.

───

The next day passed and you still felt shaken. Lestat, with his usual tenderness toward you, had disappeared. Hadn’t spoken one word to you, not even walked in the same direction as you. It was weird how he’d managed such thing, seeing as you both lived under the same roof. The bed of one of the many guest rooms you’d chosen to hid into had been a ghost before your legs. It felt uncomfortable, unwelcoming, unable to hold your presence on it. You spent the night before scribbling drawings on a yellow paper you’d found in one of the nightstand’s drawers, not knowing what else to do with yourself. Twenty four hours being alone in a house with at least more than one lonely person. You took a deep breath and decided you needed to find him, see how he was doing. You’d softened towards him, it seemed, in less time than you’d expected. Your brain was still terrified to accept the idea of it, but the aching inside of your heart didn’t give it any other option.

You walked outside of the room and searched for him everywhere. Yvette told you she’d last seen him go outside. Back upstairs, you heard the soft sound of water running into the main bathroom and curiously walked over, leaning against the door just for a peak. Your mouth dropped and you shrieked loudly in unexpected terror. The bathtub went by the shade of an almost black red, thick, even if it merged with the water. There were bubbles covering the top and Lestat smirking next to it as he took a step closer.

“I prepared a bath for you,” he announced with a smile. You lost your voice along with every other possible function of your system. Lestat looked for a moment, the blood in it did fill him with a certain hunger that he had not felt before. He could almost taste it; the thought of you coming into the tub was almost alluring, he had imagined how you would look in that water... and how you would taste inside that water... he was salivating.

“W—Wh…What did you do?” you asked, your voice trembling, horrified at the freak show.

“What do you think I did?” his words came out with a cold tone, as he stared at you. His face was a bit grim, yet still his eyes were detailed with a certain lust. “You’re going to ask why, I assume. Why did I kill them…? Or why did I bring their blood here?” his voice was full of sarcasm as he spoke, he was making you more confused and scared, but this time, he was not planning to back down to your puzzled feelings and expressions.

“Both… Both!” You felt your knees weaken as you crumbled to the door behind you, the smell of the blood causing vomit to erupt in your throat. He looked at you as you collapsed upon the doorframe, the sound of your gag causing him to smirk a little. You had successfully lost all sense of control, and that was beyond pleasing to him.

“I killed them because I needed fresh blood,” he said slowly, he would not tell you anything more. A step closer, then a hand pointing at the tub, which haunted your soul. “Get in the tub.”

“No. No… no — no — you can’t… you can’t…!” You couldn’t speak. Your eyes were teary and your face had paled and he looked happier than ever. Lestat didn’t want to hear your plead, he didn’t want to hear you beg for mercy. His desire was taking over him, and now that he had killed a few poor slaves in the woods and the bloodlust inside of him had grown in intensity.

“You don’t have a choice.” He then walked towards you, his movements slow and precise. He wished to take what he wanted from you, no matter what you’d do to convince him otherwise. You’d cut deep with your previous words, which never went unnoticed nor forgotten. “I want to shower you in blood, my child.”

His eyes had grown a bright crimson as he got close to you, pulling you into his grip. You thought you were about to pass out, your body limped down on the floor, unable to move or resist. Lestat could feel your weakness, your fragility as you leaned against the door. One more pull and he began to drag you away from the wooden entry. You got more and more ill as the smell got stronger, your mind buzzing as his devious laughter echoed in it. Your throat was closing up and the need for air was growing more immense with your every weak breath. “Why are… you doing this?” you mustered with a middle pause.

“Because of what you said.”

“B-Because of what I… Leave! Let me go!”

You were kicking the air, panicking, trying to run away from him in desperate attempts. He smiled, twirled around your helpless body and hummed the melody of an old Italian song. The tears fell from your eyes artistically, in a way that they almost resembled the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Paradise, your hands clutching on every item possible for a steady grasp that would still his intentions, free you from them. As your ultimate option, you resulted in begging with choked sobs. The pleads caught him off guard.

He couldn’t tell if it was truly fear, or a ploy of some kind to get out of the situation. He was hesitant, yet still had a choice to make, and the limitations highlighted the accident of choosing poorly due to the temper of the moment. He could feel the moisture dripping from your eyes as you begged him not to do this to you, but the hunger for the fright your vocal chords held was still there, distracting him from judging correctly.

“You mocked me…” there was still a hint of anger in his voice, but not the overwhelming kind. In fact, he felt more collected than ever. You’d brought this situation upon yourself…

“This… Lestat, please, please, I want this to end, please…” you sobbed into the comfort of his neck, your arms wrapping around him as they trembled. Lestat could feel you shaking against him as you sobbed. The intensity that he had felt was now fading, a little empathy rising towards you for the first time since you’d insulted him. Your fear made you seem so much weaker, so much more vulnerable, and it made his heart hurt as he looked at you, unfamiliar with this side of you.

He couldn’t stay mad. And he had to let you go.

“You’re making it difficult for me to keep you safe. As much from others as from myself...” he said softly as he loosened his grip on you, his hand holding your arm now was a soft and gentle one. It was not the grip of a killer, it was the grip of a lover. Yet his eyes were a reminder, still burning.

“This… it’s a nightmare, right? None of this happened. The tub… it’s just a nightmare?” you asked him, deluding yourself into a lie that you believed would calm you down. You were still on the verge of passing out, your eyes heavy and swollen as they blinked the remaining tears away.

“Yes... it’s just a horrible nightmare,” he spoke softly as he kept holding onto you, he wanted to lie to you if that meant that you’d start feeling safe around him again, comfortable, that you’d forget all about the tub. He could tell you were still scared, even if you had relaxed a little. He would not allow you to be afraid, did not want you to remember any of this. He only wanted you to remember being safe in his arms.

“I’ll wake up to your bed tomorrow?”

“Indeed.”

“I need to go to your bed…” you murmured under your breath, your eyes half-lidded as he nodded and took you in his arms. Your head rested on top of his shoulder and you couldn’t really tell what was happening around you; what was real and what was not, but in your mind, it mattered no more than a useless piece of information. Lestat carried you all the way to his bedroom and helped you on the bed, as he removed a few layers of clothes of his own. You found the warmth of the scent this particular bed held somewhat comforting, that you weren’t alone anymore. He came up back by your side and stroked your hair as he kept whispering in French, a language that even though you spoke less than fluently, always seemed tricky to understand.

“Tu as un beau cou.” The poorly spoken words grazed just the outline of his vampire fangs as they left his mouth and embraced your throat. Lestat leaned down just a little to place a lingering kiss on the side of your neck, right were your pulse was beating — throbbing — in a way of letting you know that he’d provide you with eternal safety; even from his own self. He cherished the satisfied tiny moans you let out as his promises hugged your soul and sighed. Even with your presence around, his room still felt cold and for a moment he allowed himself to wonder if it’d feel the same way in case he were a human.

“Je sais, mon amour,” he heard you sheepishly reassure him, not understanding in the slightest how you’d managed to do such thing in all your tiredness and corpse-like state. He was the one with the ability to read the mortal mind, yet it seemed like you’d known every inch and depth of his darkest and deepest thoughts since the moment you laid eyes on him. And oh, how he wished you hadn’t. Because Lestat refused love.

He refused the idea of love, thought of it as something miserable and pessimistic, because how could anyone devote themselves so much to a person to forget their own problems and beliefs. Poems, philosophy, theatre, music; they all refused love in a way. The destructive kind.

But his head tilted to the side as he sat in his coffin, watching you descend to sleep, and suddenly he was gone from the world, helpless.

───

“I want to breathe fresh air. Your house is suffocating me,” you’d said to him only a few days later after finding the strength to look him back directly in the eyes like you weren’t afraid. He posed as a danger to you now, after the cruelty with the tub, but you were superior to any of his schemes. The walls suffocated you seeing as he barely let you walk around the town, afraid that he’d lose you, that you’d run away from him.

The sky that night was tranquil. The dark canvas of the it was adorned with countless points of light, like shimmering diamonds scattered across a velvet cloth. The celestial bodies twinkled and glimmered, casting a soft, ethereal glow that captivated the imagination. You always loved to watch the stars, to admire the constellations.

And that night, Lestat was in a good mood, so even though his reply had been hesitant at first, he’d eventually let you do as you wished. With his hand secured around yours, he’d promised to take you to his favourite place, his hiding spot as a newly discovered vampire, his memory founder. You strolled around the town, walked for what felt like several minutes. The setting was unfamiliar and the thought of getting lost crossed your anxious mind for a split second, but given to the concentration on his face, he seemed to know exactly the roads he strolled through. There was a small forest, one you’d never stumbled upon in all the years you spent in Louisiana, even though you were certain you’d walked past it at least once. The air was chilly and there were no others around in kilometers; just you and Lestat. It was the type of place that many nobles would avoid. It reminded you of the haunted forests your mother would read to you about in the night tales to put you to sleep.

“Here we are. Do you like it?” he asked as he let go of your hand, intertwining his fingers together as his hands fell over his crotch. He looked at you.

“Yeah, a lot actually. How come I’ve never known about this place before?”

“Well…” Lestat explained, “It’s an unnoticed spot. Not many appreciate its natural beauty,” he spoke softly, as he looked around the forest once again. “They’re afraid to come here at night, and they try not to pass by during day as well. I don’t know why, if that’s your next question.”

“And how did you discover it?”

“I used to come here often.” There was no use in hiding that answer. He had been a child who ran away, and during those years where he explored this vast estate, he had found this forest. He didn’t know it was haunted — according to the superstitions — back then, but even now when he was aware of it, he would come here often. He had not left for such a long time. It felt like home.

“By yourself?”

“Yes…” He knew the answer was pathetic, that it gave his longtime loneliness away, and he regretted admitting it out loud. “You know, we’re similar in more ways than just our past.”

Your eyebrow cocked in confusion. “And how is that, may I ask?” Lestat paused for a moment, as your question made him think. That part hadn’t always been so hard when it crossed his mind many nights during sleep. Perhaps it had been the fact that he didn’t have to look at you when he thought about his past, but... now he had to.

“We ran away from it. We both know what it’s like to be alone.”

“But we’re not alone anymore, isn’t that what you’re trying to say?” you listed his words before he could do it himself, your voice weary, tears burning in your eyes, even though you understood that he emotional pressure was more overwhelming for him than for you. He’d opened up to you, just a hint of it, you realised, but you couldn’t know why and it pained you.

“We’re not... I...” he grew unsure, unable to finish.

“I want to watch the stars.”

Lestat’s mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but remained in that position, looking at you silently, surprised. “We can watch the stars,” he agreed and took you to a more open spot in the forest. It was clearer and there were less trees that would potentially block the view of the sky. The both of you sat on the grass, legs crossed as your eyes focused on the moon.

“Do you have a favourite constellation?”

Lestat thought about it for a moment. there were many stars he had been drawn to over the years, and he had studied quite a lot of them as well. But perhaps, there was one that particularly stood out to him. “Scorpio,” he said softly as he tried to look to see where it was in the night sky. His gaze was focused towards the stars as you spoke again.

“Scorpio? How so?”

“It stung Orion to death. I do the same with humans in reality. Well, drain them to death…” he paused and laid back on the grass, letting his body become one with the somber pasture. His eyes still stood out, even as the pitch black sky made it really hard to find your own step around. “It’s also one of the first constellations I studied.”

You gave him a little smile and carefully positioned yourself next to him on the ground. “I didn’t know astrology intrigued you.” Indeed it felt odd to listen to him speak about his interests, however it created an invisible bond between you. For once, he looked at the stars with company. He wanted to take your hand, show you that this was something he’d never gotten with anyone else, cherish the moment. You felt him do so, eventually, and tried not to react as if to give yourself away. “Can you guess my favourite constellation? But you shan’t read my thoughts.”

“Mm…” he considered. “Cassiopeia.”

“You read my mind,” you simply stated.

“I guessed.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then don’t.” He turned to look at you and so did you. He was holding back from something, it was evident in the way his Adam’s apple bobbled, the way his eyes had a bizarre shine in them that they’d only get before he was about to ask you a question he knew unlocked more and more of him to you, which he both allowed and feared.

“Go ahead,” you encouraged, even though he hadn’t asked anything at all.

“Do you believe in fate at all?” Fate, as in, everything was meant to be in a way. He couldn’t help but think of the idea as you laid down together, in the presence of the dark blue sky.

“I think fate is misery. I don’t understand why it’s got to punish us for things we didn’t even ask for to happen. It kills us all in the mind. But I do believe in it, nonetheless. We’re all its slaves.”

“Why do you believe in it if it tortures you so much?”

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t you ask yourself the same question? Sometimes we don’t have an answer, we just let things be the way they are.”

“I think that what you call misery shaped me.”

“So you’re miserable, then?”

Lestat frowned as the words came from your lips. “No,” he spoke, his tone seemed to grow a bit frustrated. “I most certainly am not miserable, but I just think…” he sighed harshly, he knew what he was trying to say — he just couldn’t explain it properly — and maybe the way you stared at him, waiting in so much anticipation made him lose his track of thoughts along with his own words.

“You want to go back inside?”

He nodded and got up, upset over the fact that the time had been cut off so shortly. He felt strangely warm, as if he’d recently fed enough to cause the blood run through his veins, and he wondered if you’d make him feel that way every time you gave him the slightest hint of attention.

The night was deep and his house hollow as you stepped into it, ready to take your separate ways in the rooms, but the boldness coursed through your neurons as you asked him if he’d like to have a sip of wine first. No, he replied, he wouldn’t wish for one, because wine no longer got him drunk or offered him any form of careless enjoyment. You just sat by yourself near his piano and grazed your fingers over the last four keys. A messy, silent melody came out and for a second, it echoed over the entire room, one, two, three times. You wondered if it symbolized how lonely Lestat was.

It felt gut wrenching, even though you knew he was unpleasant, seeing him have no one in his life. Seeing him know so much about the stars and have no soul to talk with about it. You went into your room and changed into a nightgown. The breeze from the windows made it feathery against your body as it flew a little under your arms when you entered Lestat’s bedroom without making the slightest noise. His coffin was covered; he’d fallen asleep perhaps. You seized the opportunity to give his room a sharper notice.

There was a neat black vase with golden details placed on the dresser, it even had a rose in it. A rose that had lost its bloom; it was just wrinkled, a little yellow—growing to brownish—near the edges, all dried up, dusty and ready to crumble. A soft touch on the back of your neck caused you to gasp as you turned around only to realise it was Lestat, seemingly paler than usual, for a reason.

“Did I disturb your peace of going through my stuff?” he asked, but his voice didn’t sound mad.

“I don’t want to sleep just yet.”

His eyes followed yours until they fell to the rose you were examining. With a swift twirl, he brought it around his fingers and held it in front of your face. “Pour toi, ma chérie,” he whispered with a smirk as you took it and placed it over your chest, right where your heart was still steadily beating.

“Pourquoi le gardes-tu encore? C’est pourri.”

A disheartening sigh followed by a slight shrug of his exposed shoulders. “It symbolizes a lot.”

“Like what?” you persisted. Lestat took the rose from you and rubbed it between his palms as it turned from a dead flower to dried up powder, piled up in a tiny hill on the rug. You couldn’t understand his sudden burst, the frustration within him, but you were very aware of the fact that even the slightly wronged word could snap him. He didn’t reply to the question, either, just paced forward until he reached the bed. You felt the rest of the world move in front of your very eyes in a sped up warp, you laid right below his body, unable to move in resistance. How he got you in that position was beyond your brain to comprehend and for a split second, you wished to scream, but then remembered.

Lestat lowered his semi-opened mouth right above the vein in the spot he’d first noticed back at the ball, right there, an inch upper than the collarbone, pulsing and pounding in such a sweet way that he was unable to resist the image, how it’d taste like if only he allowed his sharp fangs sink in it, have the dark red blood make a mess out of his mouth, feel the nectar drip on the skin, the tongue. Something about it was so romantic, so deep for him, but he couldn’t do it.

“Laisse-moi faire de toi un vampire, mon amour. Laisse-moi t’offrir la vie d’un Dieu,” he murmured into the side of your neck as he placed the most tender and fragile wet kisses upon it, it was the closest he could get to his request anyway.

“No, Lestat, leave!” you panicked, instantly denying. He was under control, or maybe he wasn’t, but taming the lust that grew in him wasn’t such a difficult task, you’d discovered.

“S’il te plaît,” he pleaded, stripping the sleeve of your clothing down your shoulder with his thumb. He was trying to avoid the conversation you so desperately wanted to have about his past, knew that if he tried seducing you, you’d forget all about it and either end up in bed with him or run off scared. Either way it was working. The smirk was displayed proudly across his lips, his breath smelled like a mixture of an expensive fruit based alcoholic beverage and rosemary. You couldn’t tell how your brain functioned at that moment, as Lestat rose closer to your face and stared at your lips, wetting his own with his flushed tongue. He teased you, leaned down as if to kiss you but pulled away the very centimeter his lips were to touch yours and moaned lowly, almost like a ghost of a whisper. He pressed his thumb on your neck and held you tight, then bent down again.

He drew closer, and for a moment, it almost seemed as if you had pulled away. You staring at him with your boring common eyes, nothing compared to his, and then his lips enclosed on yours; soft yet immersive, gentle yet powerful all the same. All there was was the two of you, or one of you, rather, and all he could feel was you.

“Tu ferais mieux de me tuer,” you whinged as his teeth tugged softly at your lower lip in his motion to pull away. His breath got caught as he cocked his head to the side, eyes still lustful and hot. “Kill me, Lestat, since you can’t have me the way you want me to. Kill me like you promised once.”

“I didn’t—didn’t promise anything like that,” he stuttered while kissing your clothed cleavage.

“But I ask for death. Otherwise we shall be this way always, imprisoned in the hope of ‘what if’.”

Lestat stared at you, smiling, becoming a hazy dreamlike vision, then hyperclear. “Ah, but the price is high,” he laughed, sinking back into the scent of your body passionately, wanting to become one with it. You were serious, in a way, and that he knew, but even the slightest thought of staring at your gray corpse would kill him internally for all eternity. He couldn’t possibly…

“We could be both covered in blood,” you suggested again in a strangled moan. You felt his teeth against your skin, he smiled at the dumb images you had to offer in order to wrap him around the strong spell of undeniable temptation.

“You could be mine forever,” he insisted.

“You’re losing me already, Lestat,” you whispered, but he was too caught up in undressing you to hear. Just a few more months, you promised to yourself as you gave in the pleasure of the night.

───

Lipstick, you found, was how falling in love felt.

Starts off in a smooth surface, full of vibrance and colour, but eventually it comes to an end, either that is natural and non-bumpy, simply finishing because there’s nothing more to it except a few smudges—remainings—on the lid that you can’t get rid of, or it breaks in half, violently, with roughness, tears, anger. Just like when you apply lipstick and the bar becomes too soft to stay on.

Lestat had been your lipstick kind of love.

Except you never knew whether you actually truly loved him or if it was the illusion of him that had you so wanderlust and captivated to him. Months had passed, you’d stayed by his side through all the fights, all the murders that followed in his need to feed, the broken glasses and frames. He always ended up showing a bit more to his fragility after every rage, the stronger, the more. He’d grown to be an open book to you, attached, unable to let go, afraid. Vampires could love. And each human sense was triple as intense for a vampire, so when Lestat fell in love, he devoted himself to it completely, loved hard and immensely, never held back or restrained his emotions. Of course, he never said it out loud.

It had been a while since he’d had someone, a person, a real person to hold on to, to caress their hair at night, to whisper sweet nothings to, to just feel like he can be free with and love deliberately.

Nights were so deep and slow, the stars faded away every time his heart beat faster for you. A vampire could only cry once, he remembered he’d once been told (by whom was unimportant).

You were done, you decided. Had suffocated enough, had cut yourself from the world for him and that was the end of it. You had grown rather fond of him, enjoyed having him around, loved kissing him and talking to him, even fighting with him had become familiar, almost in the dream of being a family with him. You saw him sitting over the piano, contemplating. He raised his eyes at you once found around your presence and smiled. You motioned him not to get up and instead dragged your feet exhaustively towards his side, bringing a hand over his cheek, cupping it softly one last time as he obliviously leaned against it.

“You look handsome tonight, Lestat,” you said.

Indeed, he was impeccably dressed, just like always, in such royal clothes, each layer holding a different peel of his personality. Every feature of his face was smooth and calm, bright and pale at the same time, but the surface felt like a fresh painting; exquisite and vulnerable to any touch. It was probably the only time you’d ever seen him gift you with such a genuine, heartwarming smile.

“I’ve been wanting… dreaming of telling you something. For a long time now, I fear,” he began the moment you removed your palm from his face and instead placed it over his hands in his lap. His fingers found yours immediately and interlocked quickly, excitedly. It broke your heart.

“I’m leaving,” you announced harshly and suddenly his thumbs froze against the top of your hands, which he dropped. He felt lightning crackle through his veins and time slowed down. Your stomach had lost no time in twisting into knots, but you put on a façade that said otherwise, showed you off as strong and determined, cold, hollow to any emotion.

He stilled and looked at you with his jaw agape, mouth quivering. You weren’t just saying it, you meant it. You were doing it—he was losing you. Lestat felt his heart clench around nothing at all.

“Have I done something? I’ll give it to you, whatever it is that you need, I promise.”

His hands were now catching yours again, this time in utter desperation, a form to plead and beg. Your chest heaved as you noticed the corners of his eyes well up, retina glossy and wet, as though… no, he couldn’t—wouldn’t—waste his only chance to let the tears go down, because he was sure that whatever he did, he’d fix, there was a way, he knew it, he was sure of it. He’d offered you so many things, for God’s sake! A house, food, clothes, safety, his trust and love, and you were throwing it all away, like you hadn’t stolen his soul and merged it with yours to become one, like you hadn’t reminded him what it felt to be alive again, after centuries of suffering eternity. Because you had been right when you said to him that eternity kills; it slaughters the purity of the heart, fights against hope. It forces you to be alone as you watch everyone you love perish. And Lestat had been there, still was, would always be.

“I told you, Lestat. I’m not your slave. And I can’t do this anymore, I can’t stay here… it’s killing me. And don’t you—don’t you—dare say anything foolish about how you feel about me,” you threatened through trembling lips, fighting back tears the same way he was, except you didn’t know how long you could put up with the pain.

“You all leave me!” he yelled as he got up from his seat, covering his face with his hands as he moved in circles. “You leave me when I need you the most, you want me dead! All of you!” In his rage, Lestat raised his fist and shattered the marble vase that sat on the coffee table next to the instrument, pieces falling everywhere all over the floor, sounding exactly like the way his heart was breaking. And there it was; the first tear.

It fell from his face in a rush, violently hitting the cold ground, burning his cheek on its way down. His only cry, his only pain, all out in the open as he saw his world come crashing down. And what broke him the most was the look on your face, the urge you felt to remain nonchalant, though. Like your heart wasn’t ripping in half either, like you wouldn’t desire him, love him, give him a chance. Like you hadn’t let him kiss you all those nights as a silent way to confess his love for you, no.

“I’m not yours, I never was,” you struggled out.

“I’m yours. Don’t you see it? I would do anything for us, just let there be an ‘us’ for once, I beg you.”

“You just don’t want to be alone,” you breathed as his chest sunk with each breath. “You don’t love me, Lestat, you just love having someone to keep you out of the misery in your endless life.”

“You can’t… you can’t leave me… you can’t possibly believe all that,” he cried as he grasped your hands, but you pulled away, took a step further away from him with each try he made to get closer, to hold you for one last time, because if he ever had you around his embrace at that moment, you’d never be able to let go. You’d leave and Lestat would look for you in the face of everyone he’d kill to feed from with pure hearted and pleasure at the same time, such sickness that drew you away from him. He shook his head in denial, refused to let himself reason as you faded into a memory, or even a long lasting dream he never wanted to wake up from.

“I must…”

“I can’t bear it! Come back to me… when did I even lose you? When did you start to slip from me? I did… I did everything… I confined in you.”

“You needn’t say such things, Lestat…”

“You’ll stay.”

“No.” The answer was final, he knew it. Lestat De Lioncourt, knelt before your very eyes, broken down to the core, unable to get a hold of himself as his fingers weakened and he watched them slowly let go of yours, now holding nothing. He couldn’t hold you, just like he couldn’t hold anyone else in his life, not even himself.

The sun and moon yearned for each other, but time kept them apart. Eclipses would the only brief moments of bliss, when both of you could pretend that death hadn’t rooted into your souls, where Lestat spent the rest of eternity loving you.

FIN.

for my girl @honeymvnt !! this is your insanely late birthday gift, i hope it lives up to your expectations from all the nights we talked about it. love you 🫵🏼🎀

[sivyera]

DATING MALE CELEBRITIES WOULD INCLUDE...

ft. tyler hoechlin, jacob elordi, tom cruise, jeremy sumpter, robert pattinson, cillian murphy, henry cavill, tom hardy, sam worthington, tom felton, rupert grint

a/n: i was focused on actors that doesn't get much attention but if you have any other celebrity in mind, please let me know in the comments! also i don't know if this is good because i included their favourite things, hobbies etc (with you ofc) just to make it more detailed and not boring... so i hope you guys like it:) if you want more detailed fic or just about one celebrity, let me know!

༻♛༺

⤷ Tyler Hoechlin

-Tyler writes you love letters. Pretty often. When he cannot be with you or is busy with his job, he'll sit down at night when he's alone and write you a letter about how much he misses you, how he's doing and about his job.

-Tyler loves sports, mostly baseball. So he'll take you with him to play baseball; he doesn't care if you don't know how, he will be happy when you just throw a ball to him. He'll take you to hockey matching or ice skating, if you don't know how to ice skate, don't worry he'll gladly teach you.

-He can talk a bit Spanish so he'll sometimes call you by Spanish pet names like cariño, mi amor or querida. And he'll be all cheesy about it which makes you laugh but it's also really sweet when he does that.

-Tyler loves his family so he was a bit nervous when he first introduced you to them, because their opinion mattered to him but he also loved you. But his nervousness disappear right after you and his family clicked. His family loves you which makes Tyler so happy.

-He plays guitar so he often plays to you. He loves how your eyes light up when he plays, he just loves making you happy and if he's making you happy by playing on his guitar, he'll gladly play all day.

-Tyler also loves traveling so when he has a week off, he takes you somewhere to the forest camping or to the ocean to relax, depends where you wanna go.

⤷ Jacob Elordi

-Jacob would post you on his instagram like ALL THE TIME. On his stories or just regular post because he loves to show you of. He will also post the most random photos of you that you didn't even know he took. But he loves every single one of them.

-Because of his role on 'the kissing booth' he learned how to drive a motorcycle so sometimes he takes you for a ride, it makes the both of you feel so free and you are with each other.

-No surprise that Jacob loves sports. His most favourite are basketball and surfing. Which means he takes you to play basketball with him or watch him how he plays with his friends, cheering for him ofc. When it comes to surfing he'll gladly teach you but again he prefers when you cheer for him or just watch him after that you two will have a playful fight in water.

-Jacob is a huge cuddle bug and he just loves when you lay on his chest so he can wrap his big arms around your tiny figure. When he cannot cuddle with you he will have one of his arms on your shoulder or around your waist.

-Jacob is actually a fan of poetry so you often find him reading it, but he will be over the moon if you read him his favourite poetries. You two will also have deep conversations about the true meanings of the poetries.

-He's a huge dog lover so it will be no surprise of you two get a dog, maybe two.

-He will get your name tattooed on his chest close to his heart. And you two will get matching tattooes.

⤷ Tom Cruise

-Tom loves skydiving which makes you a bit worried all the time since it's a extreme sport but if you are also a fan of extreme sports than he'll take you with him.

-Tom likes junk food like chips, fries, coca-cola etc. so you two have almost everything that comes to your mind at home. When you two watch a movie and cuddle on the sofa, he always has some chips or popcorn.

-He loves when you read to him and he really appreciate it because he loves hearing your voice and he has dyslexia which makes it hard for him to read. He usually lays on your chest while you read to him and play with his hair.

-He's a pilot and he own several aircraft so when you need to relax and he needs to take a break from his job, you just get into one of them and fly wherever you two wants.

-Tom loves under water scenes, which makes him love water. Like I said when you two needs to take a break from work and the fame, you fly in is aircraft somewhere and the 'somewhere' it's mostly somewhere where is hot weather or beach or ocean/sea.

-Tom is famous for doing all of his stunts because he's a adrenaline junky but it makes you sometimes worried because it can be dangerous. He always make sure that after a stunt he goes to you, tells you he's okay and kiss you.

⤷ Jeremy Sumpter

-Jeremy loves traveling and his favourite color is green, which leads you two take a trip to the forest, pretty often. Just walking around, listening to the singing birds, holding each others hands and having silly or deep conversation, depends on the day and mood.

-Jeremy is a dog lover. He has a dog named Bear and he takes him on the trips to the forest you two go. Bear absolutely loves you which makes Jeremy happy.

-He loves your cooking but he himself is a bad cook so he either helps you, but you have to give him detailed informations or he just hugs you from behind and watch you cook. If you make his favourite food he will be the happiest man alive, his favourite food are spaghetti.

-Jeremy also loves sport and to his favourite ones belongs baseball and soccer. He used to play them when he was a kid so his mom shows you some of his photos where he is in a dress or something. He also takes you on matches and explains you all the rules.

-He also loves water and swimming, so when you two goes on some vacation is usually somewhere to the ocean.

-Jeremy loves the movie called 'The Deer Hunter' so you two watch it like all the time while cuddling on the sofa or bed. His face in your neck, his arms around your waist and your hand playing with his blond curls.

⤷ Robert Pattinson

-Robert is a music lover, he wrote few songs and he can also sing pretty well so it was no surprise when he wrote a song about you, then sing it to you while playing on the piano.

-He's fluent in French so when he's feeling extra romantic or just in a playful mood, he will talk to you in French or call you by some French pet names like Mon amour or Mon chéri, otherwise he calls you darling, my love or baby.

-Robert loves cooking and when is it with you, he's even more happy to do it. Sometimes when you are exhausted from job, he'll prepare you a nice dinner and visa verse.

-You two watch war, drama or horror movies together. For example 'The Exorcist' or 'Come and See' are the type of movies you two watch together, because he's a fan of paranormal same as you, which leads to deep conversations. Rob is hugging you from behind while still laying down on your shared bed. Him kissing the back of your head once in a while.

-Robert is a dog lover, he always helps the homeless dogs but he can never keep them. You two will soon get a dog and it will be one of the best decisions Rob could ever make (the first, best one was to start dating you).

-Rob is literature fan which means picnic dates. You two somewhere private, laying on a picnic blanket with some homemade food, reading books and then having deep conversations about them.

⤷ Cillian Murphy

-Cillian also loves music so it will be no surprise if he will made a song about you and he'll gladly sing it to you. He didn't write you just a one song, you have a full album of his songs that he gave you.

-At nights were you have a trouble to fall asleep, he will read to you. He will read you another chapter of your favourite book or poems he wrote (they are often about you). After he's done reading, he'll hug you tight with your head placed on his chest, rubbing small circles on your back with kiss on your forehead.

-Cillian is also a big fan of literature and he loves when you give him recommendations. He doesn't care what genre the book is (detective, romance, horror,...) if you recommended it to him, he will read it.

-You two end up getting a dog or a cat, maybe both. Because Cillian is an animal lover, you will do most of the job around the dog/cat because Cillian is often really busy but he'll always make a time for you.. and the dog/cat.

-He's big fan of a Liverpool football club so you two will often be seen on their games with matching t-shirts and caps.

-His favourite part of the day will be night (or every day time he can spend with you) because he can read to you, have you in his arms, cuddled up to his chest while placing soft kisses on your forehead, cheek, lips, neck (any part he can reach)

⤷ Henry Cavill

-Henry, to your surprise, loves playing games on his PC. When he plays he'll have you sat on his lap with his arms idly wrapped around you while still having his hands on the controller/mouse. From time to time he'll kiss any part of your skin he can reach (cheek, neck,..).

-He rides a motorcycle and he loves when you wanna ride with him. Your arms wrapped around his waist while just riding around with no care in the world.

-Henry can speak a bit of Italian, French and Spanish and if you will help him to get better in those languages, he'll be so grateful. But this 'learning dates' you two have never goes as you planned, because he is always distracted by your beauty.

-He also loves cooking so if you had a bad day, Henry is already waiting at your house with dinner and fresh flowers.And for dessert, a warm bath with soft kisses all over your face.

-Henry can ride a horse so one of his ideas for date is a picnic at beautiful meadow but getting there on horses. If you can't ride a horse that's fine, you will sat behind him, if you can ride a horse maybe you two will even race who's gonna be there first.

-He loves cuddling you, because you feel so small in his big arms. He loves having his arms wrapped around you because it makes him feel like he's protecting you but when you stroke his hair he absolutely melts into you.

⤷ Tom Hardy

-Tom LOVES motorcycles. And he LOVES you, which means that you and him are often seen by paparazzi on his motorcycle either just for a simple ride or with packed things ready to sleep somewhere in the woods in tent or something similar.

-Tom loves challenges, so on these trips on his motorcycle, he makes sure there are some adrenaline, challenging stuff like jumping off of a cliff to clear cold water.

-Going into the gym together, watching him workout OR workout with him, but if you do work out with him he'll make sure to have easier workout with you because he's much stronger than you and he doesn't want you to hurt yourself.

-Tom loves reading comic books and he has one special comic book with Venom placed in the living room.

-He has a dog named Woody and when he's busy with acting, you will watch after him. Taking him out for walks, cuddling with him, playing with him and when he comes back and makes time for you and Woody, he'll make it up to the both of you.

-Tom has many tattoos all over his body so it's no surprise when one night when you two were making out you find out that he had you name tattooed on his lower belly near to his dick.

⤷ Sam Worthington

-Sam loves rock climbing for two main reasons, it's a excellent way how to relieve stress (besides spending time with you) and he can show off his back muscles, because he knows you love it.

-He's a lover of extreme sports so you can often be a bit worried that something can happen to him, but he always calms you down a bit with a kiss on your forehead. If you wanna try some of extreme sports with him, he'll be so happy.

-He's also a nature lover so trips are usually somewhere quiet and in nature, forest, meadow,... he loves going on trips with you because you two can be alone in peace and he can have you all to himself.

-He's an australian so it's no surprise he loves surfing. If you never tried it he will teach you but he won't be much focused on teaching, he's focused more on you and your beauty.

-Sam loves music AND he can play on the guitar and drums. He will take the guitar on the trips you two have, playing some songs you love on the guitar to you at the campfire.

-He also draws a lot. Many of his drawings are you or for you or of your favourite things. Please don't mind him, he just loves everything about you.

⤷ Tom Felton

-Everyone knows that Tom never left the Harry Potter fandom and you love Harry Potter as well, so it wasn't surprise when Tom posted you and him in a Harry Potter merch (him in Slytherin colors and you in your own house colors) on his instagram.

-He has a dog named Willow so his wallpaper is you holding Willow in your arms with Harry Potter merch on you (Willow has his Slytherin scarf and you have his Slytherin sweatsthirt)

-Again Tom as many other actors, loves music. He writes songs, sings, plays on a guitar. Many of his songs includes you and Willow, your relationship or his emotions.

-He will have your name tattooed near to his collarbone with a little heart next to it.

-Tom will show off his skills on his skateboard. He can skate pretty well and he's always so smiley and happy when you compliment him. If you ask, he'll also teach you few basic tricks but prepare for some bruises from all the falls, he'll kiss you as many times as much bruises you will have.

-Tom loves when you give him back massages, doesn't matter if you massage him with some fancy oils and with you palms stroking up and down on his back with some gentle rubbs or he can lay on your chest and you can scratch his back with you nails.

⤷ Rupert Grint

-Rupert loves ice cream and at one time he bought a ice cream van and gave ice cream to all the actors from Harry Potter with you helping him. He'll often take you on a ice cream date or will cuddle you while watching movies and eating ice cream.

-One of his favourite actors is Jim Carrey, which means you two often watch movies where he played and you somehow managed to get him a autograph form Jim, which made him incredibly happy you can't even imagine.

-If you two are not watching movies with Jim Carrey then definitely MCU movies, because he's a fan of marvel.

-Rupert love Artic Monkeys so when you two bake together there is always one of their songs playing softly in the background. He will often mumble the lyrics without realizing and if you point it out, he'll blush.

-Rupert is a dog lover so you two often visit nearest shelters and play with the dogs there. Rupert and you fell in love with one of the dogs, dalmatian named Teddy, so you adopted him. After a year you bought another dog but this time not from a shelter but from a verified seller.

-He loves photographing and his favourite things to photograph is you and your dogs, no wonder that there are so many pictures of you two or the dogs around the house, but he keeps his favourite besides him on his night table.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

There Are Limits

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

Summary: Maverick's new female friend brings out your spiteful nature. And seeing you with a new man is harder on Maverick than he'd like to admit.

CW: age gap, student/instructor dynamic, swearing, drinking, and did someone say bring on the angst?? Because you know I can deliver..

WC: 4000+

This is Part 5 in the There Are Rules universe.

“Captain?”

Maverick looks up when you step into his office. He’s sitting on the edge of his desk and there’s a woman standing between his legs, so close, she might as well be in his lap. When you enter, she steps away half-heartedly, looking slightly annoyed that her conversation with Maverick has been cut short.

Maverick’s cheeky grin falters when he sees you, and he clears his throat as he hops off his desk.

“Lieutenant,” he says. “How can I help you?”

You stare at him in shock, not sure how to react. The last several weeks haven’t been easy; in fact, you and Maverick have barely spoken since your mutual decision to terminate your romantic relationship. But seeing him with another woman is a whole new level of difficult.

“Lieutenant?” he says, lifting his eyebrows worriedly. He doesn’t bother to introduce his companion, with whom he is obviously very familiar.

You swallow around the lump in your throat and exhale slowly. Maverick isn’t the only expert in self-regulation. It’s a skill that’s proven quite useful, if not invaluable, during your tenure in the navy. And, although it’s always come naturally to you, recent events have seen that you receive plenty of practice. “Sir,” you say promptly, saluting Maverick in an entirely professional manner, as if you’ve never even had his tongue down your throat. “It’s about next week’s squadron dinner,” you say.

It's true that you meant to speak about the dinner – about how you were planning on skipping it to avoid an ever vigilant Cyclone who's been watching both you and Maverick like a hawk. Moreover, the less you see of Maverick these days, the better.

But the scene before you has severely shifted the trajectory of your plans. And the next thing that comes out of your mouth is hideously unrehearsed. “I was wondering if we were allowed a plus one,” you blurt out, your eyes darting pointedly between Maverick and his female friend.

Maverick stares at you mutely, as though it’s taking him a minute to process your request. “You want to bring a date?” he then asks, his eyes widening and subsequently narrowing in a matter of milliseconds.

You feel like you might sweat right through your uniform with the way he’s staring you down, but you stand your ground defiantly. “If I may,” you respond unemotionally; the way you’d address any other superior.

Maverick nods slowly, glancing at the woman who’s currently rifling through some papers on his desk. You ignore how comfortable she seems in his office, like she’s been here plenty of times before. “I don’t see that being a problem,” he says. “Who’s the lucky…?” His voice trails off and he lets out a nervous laugh. “Should be fun,” he finishes, giving you a wide, artificial-looking grin.

You smile back at him. “I agree.”

…

“Boyfriend,” Maverick says, his eyebrows shooting upward for a moment before he checks himself and pulls at the collar of his jacket as if it’s suddenly an uncomfortable fit.

You try not to acknowledge his reaction and instead introduce your date to some of your squadron mates. You’re not sure why Sam has decided to put a label on your relationship at this exact moment, but you’re not going to argue semantics in front of the one person you wouldn’t mind buying into this spectacle.

“It’s new,” you hear Sam blurt out, presumably cowering under the scrutiny of Maverick’s gaze.

You make a point not to look Maverick in the eye because you’re still upset about walking in on him last week when he was clearly otherwise engaged. But when Sam walks ahead, busy conversing with the other aviators, you feel a finger brush gently over the back of your hand. You pull both hands behind your back and square your shoulders to face your instructor.

Maverick is watching you solemnly. “This is good,” he whispers, although the tilt of his eyebrows says otherwise.

You can’t express how much it hurts to hear him referring to this situation as good, and yet, you nod, grinning rigidly. “It is,” you say, pausing to give him an opportunity to come clean about his own blossoming relationship.

But Maverick does nothing of the sort. Maverick is as unreadable as ever.

You’re about to walk away when the woman you’d seen in Maverick’s office appears from behind him. She nudges him on the shoulder to get his attention and shoots him a brilliant smile.

Maverick gives her a polite nod before turning back to you. “Lieutenant,” he says. “I’d like to introduce you to an old friend of mine.”

The woman beams at you and holds out her hand. “I’m Charlie,” she says.

You shake her hand and return her smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Charlie,” you say. “Are you an instructor at Top Gun as well?”

She chuckles, throwing Maverick a flirty glance. “Not for a while,” she responds, looking back at you. “Not since this one made me rethink that particular career choice.”

Maverick drops his head with a laugh. “Sorry about that, by the way,” he says.

Charlie shakes her head. “Don’t be,” she replies. “It all worked out.”

Maverick nods, looking at her affectionately. “Charlie went on to bigger and better things. And by bigger, I mean she went on to design rockets.”

“Wow,” you say, both impressed and jealous of the woman who seems to hold a special place in Maverick’s heart.

“And look at how far you’ve come,” Charlie says to Maverick.

Maverick grimaces. “I’m right back where I started,” he remarks. “Full circle.”

“You’re right back where you’re meant to be,” she says earnestly. “And I’m proud of you.”

Maverick shifts his weight uncomfortably, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans. “We better grab a seat before Cyclone has an aneurysm,” he says.

You turn to see Cyclone watching the three of you with an irked expression from the table reserved for your group at the restaurant. He shakes his head ominously as you make your way toward the others. When the three of you arrive at the table, he mutters, “How gracious of you to join us.”

Maverick glances at him with a slight smirk but doesn’t say a word while Charlie lets out a small chuckle, taking her place beside Maverick at the table.

You lower yourself into the seat next to Sam, right across from Maverick and Charlie. Cyclone is sitting to Maverick’s right, aggressively perusing the menu.

“I hear the fish tacos are good here,” Maverick notes when Cyclone lays his menu down on the table in frustration.

Cyclone gives him a sour look. “Not a fish person,” he responds tartly.

You stifle a laugh, exchanging glances with Charlie, who is also snickering.

“There are non-fish tacos as well,” Maverick points out.

Cyclone nods grumpily. “Yes, I saw the entire section devoted to the various tacos they serve. I can read.”

Maverick bites the side of his lip to contain a grin. “Enchiladas,” he continues quietly, as if to himself. “Quesadillas, chiles rellenos…”

“I want a burger,” Cyclone declares, flipping through the menu anew.

Maverick shoots you an amused glance. “Let’s start with drinks,” he suggests, sliding a draft beer menu in front of his superior.

“Good idea.” Cyclone sighs theatrically, rolling his shoulders to loosen some tension.

“Hey, d’you want to share a couple of dishes?” Sam offers, tapping you on the arm to get your attention.

You glance over at him quickly, having almost forgotten he was there. “Sure.” You nod enthusiastically, even though it’s the last thing you would ever think to do.

Once all the drinks and food arrive, and you and Sam awkwardly try to allocate your respective shares of the dinner, Charlie pipes in. “How long have you two been together?” she asks, gesturing at you and Sam.

“It’s new,” Sam, the self-proclaimed boyfriend who has yet to work up the nerve to even kiss you, reiterates quickly while you chew on a quesadilla.

You wipe your mouth with a napkin before confirming, “Not long.”

Maverick’s eyes rest on you for a split second before he returns his attention to the ceviche in his bowl.

Meanwhile, Cyclone regards you with a dubious expression. “Where did you meet?” he asks gruffly.

“Through some friends,” Sam responds excitedly, as though it’s the most fascinating fact of the evening.

You take another bite of quesadilla and avoid looking directly at any of the three people sitting before you.

But Maverick cuts the silence short. “Is it serious?” he asks, and both you and Cyclone shoot him threatening glances. Charlie looks up from her plate, trying to interpret yours and Cyclone’s abrupt reactions.

Sam, meanwhile, is smiling blissfully to himself as he pokes at the contents of his fajita before rolling it up. “I’d say it has some potential of getting there,” he says.

You nearly choke on a pepper upon seeing Maverick’s expression transform from mild amusement to unequivocal displeasure. His jaw muscles contract as he forcefully stabs at his dinner with a fork.

Sam clears his throat nervously and speaks in a noticeably higher pitch, “Of course, I can’t predict the future.”

You roll your eyes and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “It’s none of his business, anyway,” you say.

To Maverick’s left, you see Charlie’s jaw drop slightly in her shock at your informal – bordering on impolite – addition to the conversation with your superior officer.

Cyclone chuckles quietly, finally appeased by your interaction with Maverick. “At last, something we can all agree on.”

Maverick smiles politely. “I was just making small talk,” he says, laying his fork down without finishing his meal.

Cyclone gives him a flat look and leans forward to address his friend. “Charlie, how long are you in town?”

While Charlie and Cyclone engage in conversation, Maverick catches your gaze inquisitively, as if he’s trying to figure you out. His eyes are so penetrating, you feel like he can see right through you. He must know that your relationship with Sam isn’t even close to being serious. He must know that you’re probably going to break it off that very evening. He must know you only brought him because you were hurt and you wanted to hurt him back. Because Maverick has reconnected with someone of significance and is involved in something meaningful.

You tear your gaze away from him irritably. You’re about done letting Maverick stir up your emotions without so much as saying a word. You’re about done caring for a man who’s done nothing but cause you pain.

You rise from your seat and excuse yourself, heading for the bathroom near the back of the restaurant. No sooner do you break through the door, than you collapse onto the nearest sink and break down. You don’t even care that your mascara is leaving streaks down your cheeks, or that the tears are clouding your vision. You don’t even care that your hands are gripping the basin so tightly that your fingers are cramping.

You glance up at your reflection in the mirror; pathetic. How did you let yourself fall this far? This hard? This fast? You run the tap and dab some cool water on your skin, patting at the trails of makeup that your crying spell has left behind.

You take a deep breath, staring at your glistening face with a scowl, preparing yourself for the remainder of the evening. But just as you make your way for the door, it opens, and Maverick enters.

You jerk back in surprise, despite his history of showing up in places he isn’t supposed to be.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You panic. He knows. He knows that you ran away to cry. And this makes you furious. “I’m fine,” you respond curtly. “You shouldn’t be in here,” you add, gesturing to the door behind him.

He pulls his eyebrows together like he isn’t quite convinced. “You’re not okay,” he says.

You grit your teeth in anger. He can’t just ignore you for weeks and then try to comfort you like he gives a shit about your feelings. “Why are you here, Maverick?”

Maverick presses his lips into a thin line and breathes out steadily. “I was worried about you.”

You scoff resentfully. “Don’t be.”

Maverick sighs and lowers his head. “I can’t help it.”

You attempt to keep your voice even despite all the shaking your body is doing. “You better go, Captain,” you say spitefully. “Before Cyclone finds us. Or Charlie.”

He watches you soberly. “You asked me to stay,” he reminds you.

You stare wistfully into his eyes. He’s right, of course. You’re the reason he’s still here. Your relationship with him has been strained but civil since the incident on the carrier. There has been a mutual effort to avoid unnecessary encounters, and an unspoken understanding that, while romance is out of the question, it will take some time for both of you to move on completely. Obviously, you did not expect him to move on by moving in on someone new. Or old, in the case of Charlie, because the two of them go way back, apparently.

You struggle to remember why you’d wanted this – wanted him to stay despite knowing that nothing would ever come of it. In the moment, you were desperate not to lose him. But watching him carry on as though nothing ever happened between the two of you is absolute torture. You’d rather not witness just how little you actually meant to him.

You shrug. “Error in judgement, I guess,” you respond coldly, echoing his words from the night Cyclone had caught the two of you in the parking lot of the Hard Deck.

Maverick nods. “Been there,” he says pensively before turning to walk out. Just before he does, however, he glances back at you and adds, “I’ll wait out here until you’re ready.”

“Don’t,” you say.

Maverick meets your gaze with a weary look. “I’m not leaving.”

“What’s Cyclone going to think when the two of us come back together from the bathroom?”

Maverick shrugs. “I have no control over what Cyclone thinks.”

“What’s Charlie going to think?”

Maverick pauses in the doorway. “What’s Sam going to think?”

You roll your eyes. “He won’t even notice.”

Maverick watches you quietly for a moment, then says. “I doubt that very much.”

You lick your lips as a fresh round of tears threatens to obscure your eyesight. The fact that Sam isn’t here to check on you but Maverick is has not escaped you. “Go, please,” you whisper.

Maverick wavers slightly on the spot and, after a brief interval, holds his hand out to you. You glance down at it hesitantly as your stomach flips violently at the though of touching him again. Clearly, you’re angry with him, but the part of you that loves him always wins.

Slowly, you step forward and place your hand in his. He pulls you in the moment you make contact, wrapping his arms around you as he releases the door to the bathroom. He lets his face drop, pressing his mouth to the top of your head.

After a prolonged – mostly silent – embrace, you detach yourself from his arms and give him a nod. “I’m ready,” you say.

Maverick nods back without a word and then opens the door for you.

…

It’s past midnight when you hear the knocking, followed by some irregular footsteps and a string of quiet – but still audible – curse words. After a moment of hesitation, you unlock the door.

“Captain?”

Maverick is standing in the corridor before you, although calling it ‘standing’ might be a bit of a stretch. He’s not exactly stable on his feet.

You glance up and down the hallway to make sure that no one has seen him. “What are you doing here?”

Maverick is watching you with a squared jaw, as though he means to keep the purpose of his visit to himself. He breathes his frustration out through his nose before veering right into the doorframe.

“Sir!” you exclaim, grabbing a hold of his arm like you might have any chance of keeping him upright were he to topple over.

“Sir?” he murmurs, and you could smell the liquor on his breath. He catches your gaze now that you’re closer and, in another moment, his eyes begin to slip down your face before they finally close. “I told you,” he says, his mouth twitching as he grimaces. He pushes past you into the room.

You quickly close the door behind him, hoping nobody heard the commotion. Praying he’ll have the sense to keep his voice down.

But Maverick, it seems, isn’t nearly as concerned as you are about disturbing your neighbors. He rounds on you with a resentful expression and shakes his head. “I knew this would happen.”

You blink at him in confusion. “What?” you say. “What happened?”

“You happened,” Maverick says defeatedly. He takes a step toward you, his eyes flitting between yours as if he’s checking to see if you can relate.

But it’s a weekday and you had just drifted off to sleep when he’d started drumming on your door, so you’re not exactly following. You furrow your eyebrows. “I happened to what?” you ask.

Maverick watches you miserably, taking a step back now, as though he can’t decide which is worse: being closer or farther away from the source of all his troubles. “You two make a fine pair,” he manages to say, but not without a break in his voice.

You purse your lips, looking away from him. You’re not going to comfort a man who’s standing in his own way. After all, it was his decision not to be with you. Besides, Maverick brought his own date to the dinner, so you aren’t feeling overly sympathetic.

Maverick tears his gaze away from you and smacks a hand over his face. “What am I doing here, Lieutenant?”

It’s a fair question, to be sure; one you wouldn’t mind knowing the answer to, yourself. But you’re more immediately concerned about the consequences of Maverick’s unsanctioned visit to your quarters than the reasons behind it. “Maverick, it’s the middle of the night,” you say, shocked at how firm you sound despite the tremor travelling through you.

Maverick’s eyebrows converge and he shifts his jaw as his eyes well up with tears. “Yeah,” he whispers, nodding slowly.

“And you’re drunk,” you add when he takes a step toward you again.

“I am,” he admits, still in a whisper.

You ignore the stutter of your heart as he nears. “You can’t be here,” you warn.

He watches you wretchedly, giving his head a subtle shake. “I can’t,” he agrees.

You can hardly breathe when he finally stops before you, his soft eyes trailing down your face. His hand is coasting up the side of your neck before you even know what’s happening, and by the time his fingertips are hovering at the nape of your neck, you’re so lost in his gaze, it’s a miracle you’re still standing. Unsurprisingly, you aren’t in the state of mind to respond.

“I lied,” he says with a slight rasp despite the effort he’s exerting to steady his voice. “I think he’s terrible for you.”

You blink at him, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Sam,” he says. “He’s not the one.”

You pride yourself on your patience and understanding, even in trying circumstances; you’re not an unreasonable person by any means. But even you have limits. And, tonight, Maverick is testing every last one. “Are you the one?”

Maverick stares at you, his eyes swimming. Slowly, he shakes his head. “No, I’m not.”

You breathe out forcefully, astonished at his audacity. There is only so much you can let this man get away with. “Then, respectfully, shut the fuck up,” you hiss, pushing past him aggressively. You whip around sharply and point at the door. “Get out.”

…

The following afternoon in the briefing room, Maverick reviews the morning's flight footage with barely a look in your direction. He doesn’t even comment on the impulsive maneuver you pulled that left your partner confused and resulted in an uncoordinated hustle to regain momentum, costing your team valuable seconds that could have ended in tragedy were it a real dogfight.

Once the briefing is finished and the room begins to clear out, Maverick approaches your desk. “Can I have a minute, Lieutenant?” he asks in a subdued sort of tone.

You glance up at him grudgingly but don’t respond until the last of the pilots have left the room. “Is it about the Cobra Climb?” you ask monotonously.

“What?” He quirks his head in confusion before briefly closing his eyes and shaking his head. “No,” he says, and then adds, more emphatically, “No.” He lets out a heavy sigh and lifts a leg over the chair in front of your desk, sitting on it backwards to face you. “I want to apologize to you.”

You groan. “Not again.”

Maverick steals a glance at the door, ensuring that the two of you are still alone, and then he lays a hand over yours on the desk. “I’m sorry about last night. Showing up at your place – less than sober.” Maverick lowers his gaze with a disappointed frown. “I – I had no right. I have no right,” he says, looking back up at you. His eyes flit between yours imploringly, burdened with all the guilt he carries.

“Stop,” you say assertively, pulling your hand out from under his grasp. You can’t listen to another word. This entire relationship has been a series of failures in self-control, each one a ‘mistake’ in Maverick’s eyes for which he subsequently has taken full responsibility. You rise from your seat and gather your things mutely.

“Y/N,” he says hoarsely, standing up after you.

You shake your head. “I don’t need another apology, sir,” you say bitterly. “I just need some space.”

Maverick nods. “Of course,” he says. “And I’ve been denying you that – and I apologize –”

“I said, stop!” you exclaim, shooting him a threatening look.

Maverick trails you as you make your way to the door – the exact opposite of your request. You rush out of the briefing room, and he follows, not far behind. Thankfully, there’s no one in the hallway because he’s behaving irrationally, to say the least. He reaches for your arm and pulls you around to face him.

You gulp, staggering the moment you meet his gaze, the aching in his eyes undermining your determination.

“Let me finish,” he pleads in a whisper.

You exhale sharply. “Finish, then.”

Maverick slowly lets his hand fall away from your arm now that you’re no longer a flight risk and, this alone, hurts, because you want him to hold you forever. Even when you’re fuming, even when you’re yelling, even when you hate him.

“Seeing you,” he says slowly, evenly, as though he’s trying to compose himself as he’s talking. He takes a breath and tries again. “With another man –”

“Come on.” You scoff, even though your heart is already buzzing at the thrill of making Maverick jealous. “You can��t expect me to not date –”

“I don’t expect that,” he says. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

You think about the way you felt seeing him with Charlie and you’re instantly sorry for causing him that much pain, regardless of whether it was intentional or not.

“I was angry,” he says quietly. “At myself, mostly…” he trails off, moving his head to the side and lowering his gaze. “But also at you. And I blamed you for the way you make me feel.” He pulls his bottom lip under his teeth and grimaces. “But that’s not your fault,” he whispers shakily. “That’s on me.”

You bite into your lip to keep it steady. You wish you could look away because the devastation on his face is undoing you, but you aren’t strong enough. You take a step back and take a shuddering breath. “Please don’t look at me like that,” you say, your voice unsteady. You can barely get a grasp on his words because you’re too absorbed in his eyes.

Maverick’s eyebrows lift inward, as if your request has him concerned – or confused. “Like what?”

You roll your eyes – as if he doesn’t know like what. “Like that!” you respond as he takes a step toward you in alarm. “Just stop!” You sigh in frustration, unable to articulate your thoughts because his eyes are still commanding all of your attention.

“Where am I supposed to look?” he asks, agitated.

“It’s the way you’re looking at me,” you explain angrily.

“Are you listening to what I’m saying?” he asks urgently. “I need you to hear me.”

You shut your eyes and shake your head. “Enough, Maverick!” you exclaim.

Maverick stills immediately, watching you uneasily.

“You’ve been tiptoeing around me, treating me like I’m injured or in need of assistance –”

“I’m not –”

“You are and I’m tired of it. Why didn’t you call me out on the Cobra Climb?”

Maverick stares at you like you’re unhinged. “You want me to reprimand you?”

You let out a heavy sigh. “If you’re going to be my instructor – just my instructor – then instruct me. It was an idiot move and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“You were distracted –”

“You’re making excuses for me! Why?”

“Don’t question my teaching methods,” Maverick says in a low voice.

You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re afraid of confrontation so you’ve been avoiding me. You didn’t even think to give me a heads up about Charlie!”

Maverick narrows his eyes. “What about Charlie?”

“Whatever,” you grumble. “Just don’t stand here and proclaim that my bringing a date to the squadron dinner somehow threw you for a loop.”

Maverick studies you silently so you boldly meet his gaze. His jaw is set but there’s a tenderness in his eyes that nearly draws you in.

“Stop coddling me,” you say firmly.

You watch his Adam’s apple rise then fall as he gulps down whatever retort he decides to keep to himself. His jaw muscles contract once more as his eyes settle over your face.

You tear your gaze away. “And quit looking at me like you…” You sigh, unsure how to describe the inimitable combination of exasperation and affection you see in his eyes.

“Like what?” he asks, his voice rising in volume. You can tell that he’s becoming increasingly defensive as your blows continue.

You’re annoyed that he’s annoyed and you blurt the words out before you can stop yourself. “Like you’re in love with me or –”

“I CAN’T LOOK AT YOU ANY OTHER WAY!” he roars.

You freeze. Stunned by the volume of his voice. Stunned by the emphatic delivery. Stunned at his words.

He turns away in a huff, placing one hand on his hip while the other is balled up into a fist at his mouth.

“This was your idea,” you say quietly as he slowly turns back to look at you. You aren’t the one who refuses to even try, and he needs to acknowledge that.

“I know,” he whispers, his eyes brimming with tears.

You clench your teeth to keep your mouth from trembling. “Then stop,” you implore.

He shakes his head, pulling his lips into a rigid line. “I don’t know how.”

Tag List:

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@gingerbreadandpaper

[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 6 - Cockwarming

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

cw: instructor!mav, student x teacher relationship, power imbalance, angst if you squint?, age gap, office sex, oral sex (m receiving), penetration, cockwarming

word count: 1875

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

It takes Maverick about a minute to notice you standing in the doorway to his office. He’s swamped with paperwork, his pen nearly running out of ink at the scrabbling he’s been doing the past couple of hours. It seems you’d both ended up with irritable days, hence the reason you found yourself here in the first place.

It was late, thank God, and no one was really around anymore and you really didn’t feel like leaving base and spending the rest of the evening sulking alone at home. You knew that Captain Mitchell was staying in late, knew that if you didn’t wander in to see him, you might not see him at all over the next couple of days.

It was a bad habit he had. He gave you too much space. 

“Lieutenant,” he greets you now, a small smile curving the end of his mouth at the sight of you.

You ignore his propriety, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you. You try to match his smile. “Hi, Mav.”

He immediately drops the act. Eyes darting from you to the closed door, he asks in a hushed voice, “What are you doing?” 

You approach his desk, your failed smile replaced by a frown. You want to hug him. You want him to hug you, you mean. To make it all better. You’re not sure how to ask for that, though.

“Just wanted to see you,” you say instead, curious hands reaching for the objects on his desk. 

He doesn’t break eye contact as he takes each object from your hands, placing them back in their spot as you move them. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, sweetheart.”

Your heart sinks a little at the rejection, and he seems to notice the disappointment cross your face. 

“Come here,” he says then, beckoning you over with a single nod.

You step behind the desk and into his space, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. It’s risky; you didn’t lock the door and the blinds aren’t fully shut, but the kiss lasts maybe two seconds. It’s fine.

Mav smiles and looks up at you with a soft glint in his eyes, the one that reads I’ll see you soon, okay? It’s the look he gives you every time he sneaks out of your house, or drops you off. You’ve started to dread it. There’s so much uncertainty that comes with it. Every single time you see him after that affectionate look, he’s just your instructor again. The affection is gone and you’re never sure when it’ll return. It doesn’t matter how much you ache for him. 

Boy, how badly you ache for him now. A kiss is never enough.

You’re almost going to swallow your pride and leave his office, seemingly satisfied with the one little kiss, until your eyes land on his lap. Then at his paperwork, then at the door.

He cocks an eyebrow, curious.

Fuck. You slowly stride over to the door, battling with your choices, but decide you have no intention of leaving. 

“Wh–” Maverick sits up straight at the sound of the door locking, and then watches as you move towards the windows to start shutting the blinds all the way. “What are you doing?”

“I wanna try something,” you say confidently, like he already gave you permission.

“Try something?”

“Mhm.” You shut the last set, take a step back to make sure they’re all closed and then turn your attention to him again. “Blinds shut, door locked. I think you’ve left for the day.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. He drops his pen instead, tilting his head as he tries to figure out what it is you’re planning.

He sort of gets an idea when he notices your eyes scanning his side of the desk.

“Baby, I do have a lot of work to do.”

You smile. “And if I promise you won’t get your hands dirty? At all?”

Mav chuckles, shakes his head like it’s the most absurd idea he’s ever heard. It might be, you think, but it’s something you can pull off. The door is locked, after all.

“I think we’d be really stupid if we tried,” he admits, though his smile doesn’t falter.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you reiterate. “I just want to sit there. You can continue working.”

It’s like he opens his mouth to protest again, but then his lips press together instead, and he beckons you toward him with a nod like before.

Excitement fills you as he scoots his chair back to grant you access.

It’s hard to get on your knees in the cramped space underneath the desk, so you have to urge Mav to move his chair back with a gentle push to his legs. He complies, does his best to make as much room for you as he can. You find that you’re sort of shaky when your fingers pry at the button on his jeans, so he helps you with that, too. The position is slightly ridiculous, the chair a little higher than it should be, so you end up on your haunches when you pull his cock out of his briefs, and then sort of yank his garments down with your other hand for easier access. 

His eyes are still nervously peering at the closed blinds, making sure there aren’t any shapes or sounds coming from behind them, but you ease his worries when you take his shaft into your mouth. There’s no time to prolong this, so you get right to it; you take him in as much as you can, using a hand to stroke him at the same time. His knuckles are white from gripping the arms of his chair as he hardens in your mouth. Stifled groans leave his lips, filthy wet ones coming from yours. 

He throws his head back in silent satisfaction when you swirl your tongue around the tip, and accidentally groans out loud when you dip your head and trace your tongue down, and then back up his frenulum.

The noise he makes reminds you that you’re not supposed to make him cum here, that this is something different, and you pull back after a minute or so. Maverick is biting down hard on his lip, watches as you stand up off your haunches and immediately work your pants off. He shifts in his seat, positions himself as best he can for you.

With your pants completely off and kicked aside, you grab onto his shoulders and mount yourself atop his lap. Hovering above him, you reach down to grab him and line yourself up with him the best you can; usually he would do that for you but you did promise he wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty. 

“No moving,” you prompt, exhaling softly at the feel of his tip against your slit.

You whimper at the stretch—it stings just a little from lack of foreplay—but gradually sink onto him little by little. You let your body accommodate him, feel yourself growing wetter around him before you sink any lower. He tenses up, tries to minimize his reaction by gritting his teeth. The long groan that leaves his mouth is inevitable when you fully slip onto his lap, his cock buried inside you to the hilt. Christ, this is gonna be harder than you thought.

He seems to think so too, as his grip around your waist tightens slightly. “Sweetheart, I don’t—I don’t think this is such a good idea,” he groans.

“Just get back to work,” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

His hands leave your waist to resume his task, but his breathing remains heavy near your ear. You relax into him, face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. You’ve got your hug. This is all you wanted today.

Maverick scoots his chair forward as best he can, picks up his pen and shuffles through his papers. 

You try not to clench around him, a very difficult problem when he scoots forward slightly a second time, his balls rubbing up into your clit. You try to focus on something else, on his scent, past him at the frames on the wall, on the bits of light coming in through the blinds.

A minute passes.

Two minutes pass.

Three, and Mav still hasn’t touched pen to paper yet, clearly dazed by the situation. His eyes skim over the words he’s already written instead, trying to give his brain an idea on where to get started again. 

He wants to move very badly. It’s a terrible itch he needs to scratch.

He starts to think that this is maybe a form of torture. You try not to think much of it, try to pretend this is the hug you were here for, and it sort of works. Sort of. His cock prods at a very delicious spot inside you the more he begins to shift his hips, and it becomes harder and harder to stay still.

It’s when you hear his pen drop and roll across the desk that you realize Maverick is not so fond of your idea. Get back to work how, he must be thinking, and God, you hope he’s not frustrated that this whole ordeal probably just set him back. 

If he is, he doesn’t show it, instead wrapping his arms around you and inadvertently rolling his hips underneath you. You gasp, taken by sudden surprise, clasping a hand over your mouth when his hips jerk a second time.

“Mav,” you whisper. “I said—fuck, I said no moving.”

He scoffs, bows his head to lazily kiss at your collarbone. “You’re killing me. I’ll never go back to work like this.”

You bite back a moan. “I promised you wouldn’t get your hands dirty. I just wanted to sit he–”

He shuts you up with a sharp, fully intended snap of his hips. His arms drop to cup the bottom of your thighs, and neither of you care anymore after the first stroke. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room and it’s hard not to make any additional noise, suppressing your moans into little whines instead. Maverick starts fucking into you as if it were the first time, as if he’d never felt something so good before. 

Neither of you last very long.

Maverick’s thrusts get sloppy when you’re both seconds away, his tiring pace beginning to stumble. He’s smart enough to take you in for a deep kiss when you both cum at the same time, your quiet, high-pitched noises trapped in between your mouths. He continues kissing you through your unplanned orgasm, tongue licking against yours.

When he pulls back, you’re both panting heavily, savoring the glow. 

He helps you off of him eventually. Your legs are a little sore and shaky, and you clumsily stumble back against his desk. Maverick’s good reflexes prevent your fall, an arm around your waist, and you avoid landing on his messy stack of paperwork. You can’t help but snicker at how absurd this really was.

Maverick, on the other hand, has a smirk on his face at the sight of you propped over his desk.

[worldofheroes]

Christmas Surprise

tom cruise x younger!wife!reader

summary: your husband surprises you on Christmas Day.

warnings: slight strained relationship, age gap (not mentioned), fluffy Tom

wc: 521

a/n: based on this request. Merry Christmas/happy holidays everyone!

You weren’t the biggest fan of Tom filming over the holidays. He knew that, and he told you he did everything he could to avoid this, and you believed him. It didn’t mean you were happy about it.

Tom calls you on Christmas Eve.

“Hey you,” you answer your phone.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says. “I’m so sorry about filming over the holidays.”

“I know you are, baby, and it’s okay. You sound exhausted.”

Tom softly chuckles. “Yeah, I am. I wish I could be in bed with you right now.”

You smile at his words. “I know, Tom, I know. You’ll be home for New Year’s, right?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Good,” you smile. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay. Talk tomorrow?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

The call ends. You stay there for a moment, looking at your Lock Screen - a picture of you and Tom.

You get ready for bed - throwing on one of Tom’s shirts - and crawl onto his side of the bed. It smells like him and brings you comfort when he’s away. You wrap yourself in the blankets and his calming scent lulls you to sleep.

The next morning, you’re woken by the bed shifting.

“Tom?” you ask groggily, still not quite awake.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he says, leaning over and kissing your cheek.

“Mm, Merry Christmas,” you mumble.

Tom lays down beside you, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear.

The chills that you get from his whisper wakes you a little more.

“Tom?” you ask again, a little more awake.

“I’m right here, y/n,” he tells you.

“Tom!” you exclaim, turning over to face him. You cup his face in your hands.

Tom smiles and kisses you. You wrap yourself around him.

“I guess you’ve missed me,” Tom chuckles, kissing whatever skin he can get to.

“Mm hm,” you hum. “I thought you were filming.”

“We were but took a break for the holidays. I wanted to surprise you.”

“You sure did,” you say, this time you’re the one peppering his skin with kisses. “I just want to lay here all day with you.”

“Well, good news - you can.”

“No work calls?”

Tom shakes his head. “I’m all yours, sweetheart. Until the 12th.”

You take a good look at Tom before kissing him again - hungrily and needily.

“Easy, sweetheart, we have, like, 20 days,” Tom chuckles against your lips.

“Yeah but I haven’t seen you in like 30,” you reply, moving your kisses from his lips to the corner of his mouth and jaw.

“Alright, alright,” Tom smiles. “I’m all yours. Do what you please.”

You giggle. “Don’t tell me that.”

Tom pulls you onto him, and you straddle his torso, hands on his pecs.

“I mean it,” he says playfully, poking your sides.

You smile at him before you lean down to kiss him again.

“God, I love you,” you murmur against his lips.

“Mm, I love you too,” he replies.

“Best Christmas present,” you mumble against his lips, absolutely overjoyed he’s back home in your arms.

[malavera]

“You forgot I was young, once?” — Tom Cruise +18

Summary: You teased Tom for being old, you joked how his knees would crush if you were to ask him to eat you out. Tom felt belittled, challenged, so he wants to prove you wrong.

Tags: No plot, pure Smut, oral f/receiving, FingerFuck, Squirting, the use of a word “kitten”, Agegap (Reader is 26, Tom is 59) THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION AND +18 READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

tagging: @deanscroissant @tomsf18 @moondustfairies @helloitstsyu @call-sign-shark @love2write2626 @back-tooo-black

"What are you saying, baby?”

“Nothing.” You bit your lip with a sly smirk.

“Oh, you were saying something. Something about how I couldn’t give it to you just enough? Are you testing me?”

You and Tom had just started dating. You both wanted to take it slow, means… You haven’t done anything. You’re a young blood, while as dramatic as it would sound, he’s lived a lot of life. Being a young blood, means being a kid. You love teasing him about his age, about his stamina, that ends up with him challenging you to do some workouts with him at the Gym in his house.

But this time? It’s different.

Tom have been thinking about this comeback for a while. He understands how he has a jokester of a girlfriend, but sometimes… He just wants you to shut you mouth with something.

“Well… I know for a fact, that after you’re giving it to me goooodd… You’re gonna be falling asleep on my boobs.” You teased.

“And, no offense babe.. Don’t you think you will crush your knees if you do went down on me?”

You watched as Tom suddenly gets down on his knees in front of you, you were taken aback by his reaction but the smirk never leaving your face as for Tom, he’s looking at you with an expression that says you are unbelievable and you’re going to regret it.

Tom didn’t waste any more time and thank god you were wearing a pleated white skirt that he likes so it gave him easy access. His hands went to caress your shaven and smooth legs, eyes never leaving yours before he put his soft lips against your leg. He left kisses up from your legs to your knees, grazing your skin a little bit with his tongue.

“What are you doing, Tommy?” You gulped, trying to keep your cool.

Tom didn’t answer instead he kept his eyes on you and proceed giving you kisses. Your legs were pressed against each other though soon Tom slowly spread them, drawing the hem of your skirt up to your thighs as it is a little too short. Tom continued to give you kisses but this time its on your thighs. His thumbs pressing on each thighs while he leaves kisses on top of it.

Your favorite kind of affection to receive, is when someone gave your thighs full of attention and love. That is why you’re sitting there with your nails digging into the palm of your hands, your bottom lip tugged by your teeth. You could feel yourself getting soaked as it started to pool in your panties, soon you felt Tom’s breath getting closer and closer towards what you need the most.

You whimpered, and that made Tom halted his movements and looks at you from his lashes with a raised eyebrow. A smirk slowly showed on his face before he pushed himself slightly upwards just on top of your tummy.

“What’s wrong, sweets?” Tom slightly tipped his head to the side. “Did I do something wrong?”

“N-nothing..”

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” Tom smirked before he hunched your skirt up to your waist and rip your panties off from your hips. You gasp at the sound of your favorite navy blue panties being torn, you and your smart mouth was about to protest but before you could even do that, Tom shoved his mouth towards your glistening pussy. His tongue teases your clit, before it goes on to play around your pussy lips.

“Ohhhh…” You moaned, throwing your head back against the cushion. Tom could feel the way your pussy throbs, needing more attention. Of course, he would never stop. He wouldn’t stop proving a point. You whimpered when you felt his finger tease your hole, without further a do, Tom shoved his finger inside your cunt—his tongue never leaving your clit. You gasped even more once you feel him thrusting his finger in and out of you.

His tongue is his weapon.

His big calloused hands are the ones that’s stopping you from shutting your thighs together. He’s spreading your legs as if you were a butter on top of the leather couch. You were panting, gasping, you regretted whatever you said minutes ago that sets him off. Again, he’s doing this to prove a point.

His tongue laps on your cunt like a kitten licking its favorite milk. He could feel your thighs vibrates in his hands, though no matter how many times you’re about to shut your legs together he would notice and adds more pressure.

“Ngh! T-Tom.. P-please, it’s too much.” You breathlessly spoke in between your moans. Your body wanted to stop while your brain couldn’t help but enjoy the euphoria that he’s giving you by licking your wet cunt. You’re practically dripping to the expensive leather coach.

“S-stop, Stop! I’m gonna-” You whimpered, “I’m gonna c-cum!” You yelped before you sprayed out your release to your boyfriend’s, perfectly sculpted by god, face. Your thighs vibrate, your legs violently shook, your panting’s never stop.

Tom gave your pussy one last stride by his tongue before giving her a kiss. His hands went to wipe his face off from your spray. Your chest still heaves from the orgasm whilst Tom was pushing himself off from the kneeling position to sit beside you.

“How’d you do that? That was so good.” You whined as Tom laughs,

“You forgot I was young once?”

[cherrycruise]

winter with tommy ❄️

[helloitstsyu]

TikTok Tease | Tom Cruise 18+

My masterlist

Summary : You did a tiktok video in front of Tom and teased him with it.

a/n : saw something on tiktok and just can't stop to think about this. here's the link . Also i tried smtg different, this is on reader's POV.

Pairing : Tom Cruise x Fem¡reader

Wc: 2k ish

Warning : smut. do not enter if you're minor

I saw this video and I'm itching to do it to Tom. He's upstairs right now in his office having his last phone call meeting for the day. Meanwhile I'm just down here in the kitchen preparing for our dinner while i jammed to A Gangester's Wife by Ms Krazie.

"Darling?" his voice shoots in between the upbeat tune.

Looking up, Tom's walking down the stairs. Donning a casual navy polo shirt and a pair of jeans, he looks just as ravishing as he always is.

"Hi babe, dinner's almost ready.." i smile to him as he walks closer and joins me in the kitchen. "Everything okay with the call?" I ask.

"Yeah..." he nods with a smile. "It went well. We still have to call the studio and ask for the greenlight, but yeah, everything sorted out one by one— is that my favorite pesto?" He leans to the stove and takes a look at the food that I'm cooking. Tom takes an inhale deeply at the smoking food on the stove. "Ahh.. smells amazing," he grins.

I chuckle, "Two more minutes, and I'll be done,"

"Okay.." Tom sits down on one of the stool right in front of me. He he stares at me with glimmering eyes, kid-like kind of stares. He props his chin with both hands. His big smile never leaves as his eyes glued on me.

"What are you a five year old?" I laugh and shake my head.

Tom chuckles. His eyes dart down to see what I'm wearing. Suddenly, those cheeky grins turn into a dirty smirk as he furrows his brows. His glimmering eyes turn darker.

"Is that a new apron?" Tom cocks an eyebrow.

Looking down at the blue stripy apron on my body, i remember i just ordered this a couple of weeks ago since i get bored with the other basic black apron. Blue is Tom's favorite color, i thought it would be appropriate to buy it in this color. Seems like he likes it.

"Uh-huh." i nod.

"Hmm," Tom squints his eyes and smirks. "Looks good on you, darling," his voice suddenly changes, drops an octave deeper.

"Is that so?" I tease him with a slight head titl as i turn off the stove. I lick the spilled pesto on my finger while i look up to his eyes with that sireny-spelled gaze.

Tom chuckles, he shakes his head, "Baby.. no! I'm hungry. We're gonna just eat this delicious dinner you made." His smile is wide despite the stern in his voice.

"Okay!" You laugh, "What else are we gonna do– it's done. Stop gawking at me and help me plate,"

Tom laughs, "Gawking at you?" He repeats as he stands up and turns around the island. Tom captures me, his hands around my waist, and he pulls me closer to him. "How am i gawking at you, huh?" he tickles me.

I giggle and try to stop his attacking tickles. "Tom! Tom, stop!" I laugh and try to hold down his tickling fingers. Tom grabs me and pulls me to his chest. He places a deep kiss on my temple.

"Go on, help me plate, please," you ask nicely. He finally lets go of me and takes some plates from the cabinet.

Remembering i have a bright idea of how to tease him (again). I set my phone against the oil bottle. He doesn't even see me setting up my phone. Tom just focuses on scooping the pesto pasta to our serving plate. I take off the apron i wore and undo my messy bun.

Then i just pressed the record button.

The song plays, and he noticed I'm recording. He stops, and he looks up at my phone screen.

Daddy let me know that I'm the only girl. The only man that i need in this gangster world.

I mouth along the lyrics as it plays. Tease him a little by leaning down a little bit too seductively cause i was feeling the song. His mouth drops open. His eyes widen in a surprise to find my little tease. I can't help to get out of character and laugh at his shocked, stalled-breath expression. Tom's blushing, and he's absolutely stunned. Tom laughs and quickly hoists me off the screen.

"Darling!!" He laughs, Tom picks me up like my bodyweight is nothing, setting me to sit on top of the granite top island.

Hooked in. Nailed it. Just the right thing to do to turn him on.

I just can't stop laughing. Tom keeps giggling, and his face turns even a brighter shade of red. His eyes flickers lightly. "Did you call me daddy, love?" Tom asks.

"Hmm... Maybe.." i shrug my shoulders.

He shakes his head, he's smile never seems this wide. The earlier tiredness on his face seems to be gone. "You little minx," he whispers as he pulls my chin and kisses my lips.

"Say it again," he demands.

Chuckling, I shake my head.

"Darling... say it again," his voice is low, and sexily hoarse. The way his demeanor shifted as he commanded me, it struck a tingling heat inside of me straight to my toes.

"Daddy." I whisper.

"Mmmhmm.." Tom grins, showing his satisfaction from hearing me say the new nickname. "How did the song go again?" He asks. His nails are clawing on my thighs. He knows i like it when he does this. I muffled a whimper, my head rolling, and falling back. "Tommy..." i murmur.

Tom uses the advantage to place a kiss on my neck. He grips my hips and pulls me closer to him. He gradually picks up his pace, erotically sucks and nibs my sweet spot, earning me to moan lightly into his ears. "Tom..." i whimper, my fingers gripping the collar of his shirt.

I feel warmth tingling inside of me. Excitement rushing in my veins. I feel myself pooling under there.

His heated kiss moves down to my collar bone as his hands never stop to explore my body. He cups my tits. Kneading them and his finger circling my erected nipples.

"I thought you said you were hungry?"

He lifts his face off my breast and looks back to me. He gives me a wild smirk. "I am. Starving right now."

His hand slips underneath my tanktop, shifting it up to reveal my naked breast underneath. He passionately kneading one in his hand while he's busy sucking roughly the other. I moan, fingers running through his soft brunette strands, the feeling of his warmth slick tongue on my nipple starts to bring tingling pleasure throughout my body.

Opening my eyes, i look back straight to his eyes. His eyes darken with lust. He looks amazingly intoxicating. Sometimes, it still hasn't kicks in that i have him for real. That I have the sexiest bachelor of Hollywood all for myself.

I pull him by his shirt and kiss him again. Tongue hungrily meeting his. I desperately pull him even closer to me. His fingers tucks on the waistband of my shorts. He takes my shorts off and toss it onto the floor. Spreading my legs apart widely, Tom chuckles at my submissive display.

Tom shakes his head and takes a step back. "I ask you something, darling. I won't continue if you're not going to answer me." He cocks an eyebrow.

"Wha... Tom!" I exclaim in disbelief. "Kiss me," i mewl. I try to pull him closer to me again, but Tom laughs. He grips my hand and holds it down. "Try me, darling," he challenged me to disobey him. He meant what he said he wouldn't continue till he heard what he wanted to hear. Such a dominant of him.

"What? What do you want?" I chuckle.

"Remind me how the song goes again?"

"Daddy, let me know—" i start to sing the lyrics. A wild smile appears on his face.

"Good girl," he cooes, then he squats down, face to my needing core.

"Ohh--" i moan as i feel his tongue flicking on my clit. "Tom," i purr. He sucks me passionately. His eyes look up to mine. He notices i stopped singing and enjoying the sensation of his oral expertise.

"Finish the song," he commands and eats me roughly again.

"Oh.. fuck—" i moan.

My breath starts to ragging. Feels like my voice is stuck in my throat. I feel the ecstasy starts to forming inside of me, needing for it to be released. My mind buzzing from the pleasure. I buck my head back, fingers tucking on his hair. "Ngh.. Ah! Tommhh," I helplessly moan.

"Sing." Tom tells, and sucks me again.

"D-daddy... let me know that—  oOH!" I lost it again when i feel his fingers entering me. He pumps his fingers in and out of my cunt, coaxing me closer to the edge of spilling all over for him.

Climbing, climbing, pleasure keeps adding: He curls his fingers and make that deadly beckoning movement. He knows my body front and back. He knows exactly how to get me easily falling apart.

"F-fuckk! Yes! Right there!!" I moan, and moan, and moan.

All of a sudden, once I'm nearly gonna cum, Tom stops.

The feeling of unfinished pleasure makes my mind buzz. I whimper and squirm uncomfortably. How cruel is he. "Wha— why'd you stop?" I look down to him.

Tom shoots me an innocent look, he slightly shrugs his shoulders as he brings his coated fingers to his mouth. "You stop singing." He licks his finger clean.

I can't believe this man sometimes. "Oh my God— Tommy!"

Tom can only laugh at me. "That's not my name!" He titls his head to the side.

"Right—" I climb off the island and push him back till his back crashes the other counter. I roughly kiss him, hands circling to the back of his neck, i desperately kiss him.

"Daddy." I say in between the sloppy kisses. Tom smirks against my lips, hearing that nickname. Guess i manage to pull a new kink outta him.

"Daddy, let me know that I'm the only girl."  I whisper to his ear as i place a wet kisses on his neck. "The only man–" i nibs on his neck. "The only fucking man," my hand explores his toned abs, i pull the polo shirt over his head, toss it down to meet my shorts on the floor.

I look up to his eyes. "You're the one that i need in this gangster world, daddy,"

Tom chuckles darkly. He cups my face and pulls me closer to him again. "That's right, I'm the only one," he cooes. He then continues to hungrily kiss me again. His kisses move to my neck, quickly finding my sweet spot, and erotically he nibs it, leaving his mark of ownership on me. I can feel his buldge pressing against me.

"Ouhh, daddy please..." i murmur, practically begging him

"Please? Please what, darling?" He cocks his eyebrows. The excitement is way too apparent in his tone and gaze.

"Let me have you,"

Tom chuckles darkly. "Have me?" He shakes his head, "Oh, I'm having my way with you tonight, darling," He throws me over his shoulder like my bodyweight is a feather. A playful slap lands to my cheek as he brings me to the couch and both of us falling onto the fluffy couch. Tom unbutton his jeans. He doesn't bother to take the whole thing off but just enough to free his cock. He aligns himself to my entrance. His tips rubbing against my opening. Tom instantly bottoms up, his cock fully enters me, stretching me to the brim. I yelp and squeal to his chest.

"You're gonna beg for me to let you cum," he darkly whisper into my ear. Tom starts to fuck me in a relentless pace.

I moan.... hard. My brain rattling with the immense amount of pleasure he's giving me. Tom looks down at me with intense, lustful eyes. His cock went deep inside of me as he have me folded in half with my knees to my chest.

My head falls back, eyeing the ceiling, my vision of the light blurs. "Ohh... god–" my eyes rolls to the back of my head.

"Nonono, eyes on me!" Tom pulls my neck back straight for me to face him again. "Oh you feel so fucking good," he moans. His eyebrows knitting together but his eyes still darkly looks down at me.

My nails dig on his shoulder. Tom leans closer, rest his forehead against mine, eyes still locked on mine. He fucks me so hard that I'm sure I'd be sore tomorrow. But it feels too good that it'll be so wrong to tell him to slow down. And I'm too overtaken by the pleasure. Too drunk with the taste of him.

"F-fuck— Tom!" I moan and panting hard.

"Yeah? Yeah, you wanted this? You think you deserve to cum after you tease daddy like a little slut, huh, darling?"

I can only helplessly nod.

"Tom... don't stop... p-please!" i beg feeling myself getting closer to cum.

"Not stopping, darling... You feel so good, all nice and tight for daddy,"

"O-oh! Tom let me cum please... please!" I cry out begging to him. He just smirks at me, dark lustful eyes looking down at me and still he's fucking me hard.

"Daddy please.. daddy let me cum!" I beg. My walls throbbing around him. I feel fire burning inside of me. My fingers gripping onto the couch hard.

"No! Wait!" He pants.

"S-sshhiit, Tom!" I squirm all over the place, trying my best to hold it.

"Wait baby! Cum with me," Tom leans closer holding me tightly. His forehead resting against mine. His panting breath meeting mine. I cry, couldn't bear the overflowing pleasure needing for the snap to occur.

I can feel his cock throbbing inside of me. He's close. He's holding onto me hard. His thrust starting to get sloppy. And just like that i lose it. The moment i feel him throbbing inside of me i can't help to hold it anymore.

I breathlessly scream daddy over and over again, moaning hard as i make a mess and squirm all over him. The sight of me falling apart got Tom spilling too. "Akhhh! FuUCk! Darling!" Tom groans. He remain freezes as he stills himself empty inside of me.

For a moment, he takes a breather and just rest of top of me. What's better than sex with him is what happened after the sex with him. It's like our soul intertwined, and i just feel a deep connection with him. Tom rolls me over so I'm on top of him, his arms instinctively hugs around me. He kiss me deeply. Still with a messy breath, he look deeply into my eyes with that shimmering after sex glow.

"You okay?" He softly asks.

Still panting i just can smile and nod. Tom kiss me deeply again. "I love you," he whispers softly.

I smile and kiss his cheek. "I love you too, daddy,"

Tom laughs and kisses me deeply again.

[lieutenantfloyd]

A few of my favorite photos + gifs of Tom Cruise! ♡

[peacefxlmyko]

Does your Mother know?

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x fem!Reader

Summary: Somebody catches Maverick's eye at the bar. There's just a slight problem.

Tags: Fluff, AGE GAP!! but everybody involved is an adult, inspired by the ABBA song, sexy old man Mav

Notes: This is something old I once wrote about Slash but just changed it to Mav cause. Babygirl who's actually a wrinkly old man. Is obviously inspired by the ABBA song and I also used one of the lyrics lines. ALSO this is my first ever TGM imagine on here and I'm lowkey nervous so, please be nice. Also sorry if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!!!

Story after cut ✂️

Mav never thought he would end up in a situation like this. After the most recent Mission he just wanted to chill at The Hard Deck and let off some steam. The whole Dagger Squad had been tough on him.

But there he saw her. She was beautiful, but most importantly young. Probably in her late-twenties. He couldn't help but watch her throughout the night as she was hanging out with her friends. 

He was taking a sip from his glass when he suddenly felt eyes on him. He looked around and noticed that it was one of her friends. She was whispering to her while looking over at him. 

Out of nowhere, she suddenly stood up from the table and started walking towards him. She was wearing a gorgeous outfit and it took him all of his strength to not stare. This is inappropriate, Pete. You're old enough to be her dad, stop staring at her like that. He thought. 

"Hey" She smiled softly. "Can I sit with you?" 

He chuckled a little and shrugged, a bit caught off guard. “Suit yourself.” Her voice was even prettier than he thought.

"So.. what's a girl like you doing talking to an old man like me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, he was seriously surprised. 

"I noticed you looking at me and so I got curious" She grinned in response. Maverick chuckled, a bit embarrassed he was caught staring. "Sorry, you just.. caught my attention" He mumbled under his breath. 

"So, what's your name?" He asked curiously. "It's Y/N. And they call you…?" 

"Maverick." He smiled. 

Y/N. That name kept echoing in his head for a moment. 

They just looked at each other for a moment, unsure what to say next. She suddenly pulled out a piece of paper from her leather jacket, scribbling something on it. She put the little piece of paper right into Mav's hand and his heart skipped a beat at the contact. What the fuck was happening?

"Give me a call" She winked at him and was just about to get up until he stopped her. "Wait- Are you serious?" He asked. 

"You do know I'm old enough to be your dad, right?" He chuckled. "You seem pretty young to be searching for that kind of fun"

"I know, but you don't seem like the other older men staring at me. You're not as creepy as them" She replied teasingly. Soon she left again to sit down at the table with her friends.  

Maverick just slightly shook his head with a smile before taking a sip from his drink, still caught off guard by the whole situation that just went down. He looked down at the note in his hand before putting it into his jacket, just to keep it safe for later.

[deadxregulus]

Tom Cruise•☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•

-BLACK AND WHITE TOM CRUISE-

[honeymvnt]

Altitude [18+]

Tom Cruise x !fem!reader

Words count: 3.7k

A/N: taking a flight alone can be a nightmare, especially if you have anxiety but he knows how to help with it

Warnings: it’s a smut so, that’s the only warning I’ve got.

this is my Christmas gift for @dxddycruise bc she’s the best🎀

After putting your bags away you took the ticket of the flight in your hands for the thousand time and checked which one was you seat.

Most of the people were still trying to make the bags fit while you started to walk on the carpeted floor, searching with your eyes the number and... letter? Of your seat.

You’ve never been on a plane before and you had no idea what those numbers and letters were doing there nor how it worked.

You looked behind and there was a whole line of people just like in front of you and when you tried to reach for a hostess they were all busy helping the other passengers.

You were almost about to panic and let everybody walk ahead so you had more time to figure out where your seat was.

After a few minutes, when everyone had found their seats a man stopped behind you again and without even looking at him you gestured him to just go ahead but he did not move until when you looked up at him and when you did...

His eyes were staring into yours but you couldn't help yourself from looking at the rest of his gorgeous face.

He was smiling at you and it was honestly the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen, and the way his cheeks were rising when he noticed that you weren’t looking at him but staring at him as if you’ve seen a ghost (for him, for you it was more like you’ve seen a God).

"Do you..." he spoke up. The tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine until your feet and you gripped the ticket as if it could save yourself from fainting. He pointed at the paper between your hands and looked down at it for a moment.

He thought you were going to say something but all you did was just staring at him. You could tell it was getting really awkward when he let out a small laugh and slowly took the ticket away from your hands to read it.

"Yeah... I can't- find my..." you couldn't even finish the sentence when he looked back at you. "...My seat" you smiled and swallowed hard before you looked down at the paper to avoid his intense and penetrating stare that was already sending you over the sky before you even left the land.

He smiled back at you as you slowly approached the seats and you noticed that everyone was already sat, already glued to their phones, already planning the rest of their lives in their hands. How depressing it was.

"There you go" the man spoke up again and placed his hand on your waist just to help you out with it and he had no idea how much you loved it.

"Thanks" you smiled, glancing back at him before sitting next to the small window.

He looked at his ticket and with a surprised smile he spoke to you again.

"I guess we will share this flight together" you laughed as he sat next to you while you were trying your best not to look at him for too long.

He took his phone out of the pocket of his expensive pants and you had to force yourself to look at the empty view next to you just not to stare at his hands or his lips or eyes. He was so hard to ignore.

"I'm Y/N by the way" you said out of the blue when he put his phone away.

He looked at you again and extended his hand for you to take it.

"Such a pretty name. I'm Tom nice to meet you" you took his hand in yours and he gently squeezed it before he let go of it.

"Thank you... so is yours" you smiled and he looked right at your lips before noticing your eyes.

Whenever you looked at him, time seemed to stop and no noise around you matter except the one of your heart echoing through your whole body.

When the plane suddenly left the airport you held yourself on your seat. The anxiety in your body started fo grow uncontrollably: from the noise of the people talking until the engine of the plane and was scaring the shit out of you.

"Are you okay darling?" He asked.

Darling.

You didn't know what he was doing to you and you knew he had no intentions with you but he must've known by now how much he had caught you and how much you’ve been waiting for this moment.

You slowly looked at him and your lips parted slightly, ready to speak but he took the word before you could even form a sentence.

"I'm going to get you some water" he said.

"No it's okay, I'm fine" you smiled before he could stand up. You didn’t want him to leave you, not even for some water, and so he leaned back on his seat and looked at you a bit concerned.

"I'm okay, thanks" the corners of his lips raised and there he was, smiling at you once again. It was such a view for you. The kind of view you'll never ever forget about.

"Vacation?" He asked after a while, trying to break the ice with you as he noticed how tensed you were.

"No, not really..." you chuckled "you?"

"No... just meetings, the usual" Tom laughed after you but it wasn't calming you at all.

You were nearly about to freak out on that plane and the more you looked down the more you felt like you wanted to throw up but his presence was forcing you not to and besides how embarrassing it was getting because you couldn't stop gripping the seat and take deep breaths between a smile and another he was noticing it all along.

"Your first time?" He looked down at your hands before meeting yours eyes again.

"Yeah, is it so obvious?" You laughed awkwardly before you closed your eyes for a moment to take your breath.

"You want to..." he whispered you.

"To what?" You asked back at him a little confused about what he meant by that.

"To go to the bathroom?"

Right. What were you even thinking about now. You felt so embarrassed. All you did was embarrassing yourself since the moment you dropped your bags out of the taxi this afternoon and then the ticket and the seat, your anxiety kicking in right when a handsome man talks to you and now this....

"Maybe it's better" you nodded and stood up, walking out of the seats but Tom held your wrist and you felt your whole body heating up. For a second you really thought that the altitude hit you but it was him, the way he looked at you and touched you was making you feeling higher than you already were.

"Do you want me to come with you?" He asked you but you didn't answer. Your lips parted and you frowned trying to read between the lines of what he was trying to say.

"I don't want you to pass out in there" the little laugh he let out led you to say yes to him. You were going to say yes anyways, to anything he wanted, you were down for it and couldn’t forget yourself for thinking such things in front of his face.

"Sure, that'd be better" with this Tom stood up and walked behind you as you approached the bathroom, holding yourself on every single seat until the door.

"I'll be right here" he smiled before you entered the room.

Your hand reached down to lock it but instead you did not. You didn't know why you were in the bathroom. You really didn't want to be there but you didn't even want to be next to him and act like a scared little girl so you had to make your move.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and you washed your hands without taking your eyes off of your reflection. You wondered if he was wondering why you didn't lock the door, you wondered if he was wondering that you were wondering that he was wondering why you didn't lock the door.

You were thinking about dragging him inside the room and just kiss him, as a thank you maybe?

The water was still going and you were still staring at yourself before he slowly knocked on the door.

"Is everything alright?" He asked quietly.

He knew it was open and even though you weren’t there since a long time you wondered why he'd really came here.

He wanted what you wanted, it was obvious.

"Y/N?" He spoke again and you felt his hand on the doorknob of the room before you decided to speak.

"no" you lied. Well it wasn't a lie, everything wasn't okay... you wanted him. You wanted him to kiss you and you were trying your best to convince your mind that that was what he wanted too, that he wanted to kiss you and more.

You suddenly opened the door and there he was, standing in front of you with that goddamn suit that only made you dream about what kind of beautiful, sculpted body was hiding behind it and those eyes, those lips. Your mind was going crazy.

He slowly walked towards you without taking his eyes off of yours, not even to blink. His hands reached for your face and his lips crashed on yours.

You held yourself on his arms as Tom entered the room and locked the door behind him without stopping the kiss.

Your mouth opened to let his tongue slip between your lips. Your breath was stuck in your throat and all the anxiety was replaced with hot waves of excitement.

His hands slide down your sides until your waist before he pushed you against the door and kept eating your mouth as if it was his last meal. You moaned and moved your hands into his jacket so he could take it off.

He broke the kiss and smiled when he noticed how good you were reacting to all of this while your hands traveled down his chest to finally feel it.

He kissed you again but quickly moved down to your neck, nibbling on your skin and biting it too.

Never in your life you’ve experienced anything like this and even if this was very inappropriate, you couldn't deny that it was such a feeling you didn't want to end for any reason.

His hands found the end of your sweater and he took it off of you with a fast move before his lips kept moving down your body.

You bit your lips as hard as you could, trying your best not to make any noise but he was making it impossible. Your hands reached for his face and you kissed all of him, harder than before and he didn't hesitate to go even harder until when your lips were red and sore.

Your heart was racing and your legs were already shaking just by the excitement of his kisses and when one of his huge arms wrapped around your waist and held you up on the small sink you let out a gasp.

"I knew you would’ve liked it” Hearing his voice after all of this was just the beginning of the end for you and he knew it, fuck if he did.

You smiled and looked up at him while he moved your jeans down your legs and kissed your thighs before you stepped out of them.

Tom started to unbutton his shirt but you didn't want him to do it, you needed to do it. You’ve been fantasizing about it since when your eyes landed on him and you must've had the pleasure to do it.

He was standing between your legs and you slowly leaned closer to him. You kissed his hand and Tom smirked down at you, noticing how eager you already were.

You took his hand in yours and moved it between your legs as you started to unbutton his shirt.

You bit your lips again and opened his shirt just enough for you to kiss his chest and just take a taste of it. His free hand moved through your hair and then down your clothed breasts.

"Fuck..." he moaned when your lips moved a little lower just to tease him and to make him lose his patience because of it.

You looked down at him with a smile printed on your face when you noticed what you've done to him. You couldn't help yourself from it and touched his huge hard cock with a hand and the moan he had to swallow not to let anyone hear the both of you was going to be the end of you.

He bent down to kiss you again as you felt his fingers gripping your thigh and moving closer to your core.

Your back arched and another moan escaped from your lips before he kissed you to avoid it.

"I'd love to hear you my love" he said against your lips as you tried your best to keep yours on his.

"I really can't let you do that..." he smirked while he slowly lowered and got on his knees in front of your spread legs.

You looked at him in surprise when you noticed what he had in mind and the worst part of it was that you were sure you couldn't shut up, you couldn't be quiet if he really did this to you.

Tom started to kiss your thigh without taking his eyes away from you, moving even closer to your core, teasing the hell out of you as you held yourself on the sink beneath you.

"Please..." you whispered quickly when two of his fingers moved your underwear to the side and you saw how proud he was for having you like this, helpless and completely fucked up already.

"Please Tom..." if only he made a false move now, the whole plane, pilots included, were going to find out what was going on in there.

"I haven't started yet" his long fingers slid down your soaked folds, slowly enough to make you feel how sensitive you already were because of him.

Your eyes fell shut and your body arched toward his to feel even more.

"Eager, are we?" He chuckled and when you opened your eyes he was right above you, with his body pressed against yours so you had no other choice but stare into his eyes while his fingers were slowly entering you.

"Oh my...." you gasped but he immediately kissed you before you could moan even louder.

"Fuck-" you cried out at the feeling of his fingers stretching you out, curling inside of you to hit the right spot.

"so wet…" Tom said against your cheek, holding your thigh in place with his free hand.

You nodded eagerly and let him sped up the movement of his fingers between your legs and your hand unconsciously held his wrist.

"Mm yes... yes-" you bit your lips again to kill all the cries that he was dragging out of you with his fingers pumping into you.

"You're gonna cum for me, aren't you?" He asked brining his hand toward your neck.

You nodded again at his question while your legs started to shake uncontrollably. His fingers were moving so fast that you could've barely feel your own body. Your hands tightened on his shoulders as he helped you reach the peak of your orgasm.

"There you go" he said kissing your neck, moving his hand up to your cheek and close to your mouth.

"Cum for me" his lips moved up to yours again as you came all over his hand while you cried out his name repeatedly, biting onto his fingers to kill all the moans that you were desperately trying to let out of you.

"Oh god" you took a deep breath and your eyes eyes fell shut as he caressed your face and kissed you over and over again.

"I want you so bad" you whispered against his lips, trying to keep yourself composed even though you were already feeling weak again.

Tom chuckled and kissed your lips while his hands left your body to unbuckle his pants and free his huge hard cock.

You bit your lips at the sight and when he noticed it, well that made him very proud.

"So do I" he replied and teased your sensitive folds with the tip of it before he slowly slide into you.

The way your walls stretched around him sent you straight to heaven and back and the way he was even struggling to go deeper just made you want to scream the lungs out of you.

"Fuck you're so big..." you moaned quietly and he let out a low groan as he tried to fit all the way in.

"And you're very tight" Tom held your thighs with both of his hands and spread your legs even more as your body started to get used to his massive size.

"Oh please fuck me..." you cried out in desperation when you felt your walls clenching around him.

"Say it again" he said staring deep into your eyes, holding your face with a hand.

"Please, fuck me" you repeated, breathing heavily and tightening your hands on his arms.

He looked down at your lips and kissed you while his cock slide almost out of you and slowly went all the way in again, with a slow, torturous pace that only made more eager and desperate for more.

"Oh fuck... I can't" you cried out but he was enjoying how stimulated you were and how badly you needed him to just break you.

"Yes you can..." Tom moved his lips down your jaw, until your neck while you were struggling to keep it quiet.

"And you will" his pace quickened as your legs wrapped around him to keep him even closer to you.

"Oh fuck... fuck" you moaned but he quickly kissed your mouth again before speaking up.

"Quiet babe" he said panting and fucking you at the same time.

You bit your lips as you felt your whole body giving in more and more. Your legs were trembling and your hands moved up his arms until his shoulders and face. God he was so beautiful.

His dark hair fell in front of his eyes as he looked down at the both of you but he quickly moved a hand through it so you could see his beautiful eyes again.

Just his face was driving you insane and the rest was killing you.

He was fucking your brains out and you were just about to let go when you began to feel his cock throb inside of you.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum again" you said against his lips.

"Not yet" he whispered next to your ear before moving away from you.

The sudden emptiness you felt made you gasp and moan at the same time. Tom quickly held you down from the skin and grabbed both of your arms, placing them behind your back.

"You cum when I tell you to" he continued and spun you around so you were facing the small mirror of the bathroom.

He bent you over the sink and slide all the way in again. Without giving you time to adjust to the size he started to pound into you with no mercy, hitting spots that not even his fingers could've reached.

"Tom- fuck" you were cut off by your own moans but he did not stop, he did not slow down.

He was giving you just what you wanted in the best way you wanted it.

"You want it, don't you?" Tom said against your cheek. Letting go of your arms so you could hold yourself up and he grabbed your hair and forced you to look at him through the mirror.

"Say it" he whispered you, speeding up the pace even more, till the point you couldn't take it anymore.

"Yes... yes-" you said straight away as tears ran down your cheeks and his lips moved down the back of your neck.

"Such a good girl" these words, sent you over the edge and he knew it by the way your walls clenched and gripped his cock so tightly.

"Yes just like that..."

"Please" you cried out.

"Let go for me darling, give it to me" and so you did.

He didn't stop moving back and forth until when your orgasm wasn't over and he had to place a hand over you mouth to keep you quiet while he finished himself inside of you, until the last drop.

"Oh fuck..." he moaned too and held himself on the sink even though you could feel the weight of his body over yours.

You two stayed there for a few moments to catch your breath before he slowly turned you around and hugged you close to him. You were both glowing with the after sex aura and the thin layer of sweat as you wrapped your arms around him and he did the same, trying to hold you up.

You slowly pulled away and kissed him again one last time.

“I hope you’re feeling better now” Tom said with a chuckle and you playfully rolled your eyes at him

“You think so?”

“Well I hope so” you laughed and kissed his lips one last time before you opened the door to check if anyone was there or if anyone heard what have happened but he held your hand and dragged you inside to kiss you.

You both quickly dressed up again and tried your best to look exactly like when you stepped into the bathroom.

“I think I’ll take you out on a date” His hands were holding your waist from behind as you slowly left the bathroom and you felt his lips against your neck again.

“You better” he laughed and you held his hand as you slowly approached your seats as if nothing happened.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

There Are Consequences

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

Summary: While hiding your relationship is an essential requirement of maintaining it, Maverick struggles to hide his feelings when another man becomes involved.

CW: age gap, student/instructor dynamic, swearing, and where would we be without the angst, people??

WC: 3000+

This is Part 3 in the There Are Rules universe.

You’re packing up when Maverick calls your name from the front of the room. You look up at him warily as the officers around you start rising from their seats.

Maverick clears his throat, his eyes locked on yours and, even as the rest of the room is bustling after a long day of flying and debriefs, you’re suddenly completely still. Everything always slows down when his gaze settles on you.

“Can you hang back a minute?” he asks.

You nod, sliding out of your seat. You head to the front against the flow of traffic while Maverick walks around his desk to meet you. He stands a good five feet away, riffling through some papers in his hand, until the last of the officers leaves the room.

Maverick glances up at you once everyone else has gone, gingerly setting the stack of papers down on his desk. “Lieutenant,” he says quietly. “That was some flying today.”

You blink at him, a small smile spreading on your face. Surely, he didn’t call you up here to talk about aviation.

Maverick watches you levelly, not a hint of humor in his face. “You broke the hard deck.”

“For a second,” you say, rolling your eyes. “To avoid a collision –”

“Breaking the hard deck is a collision with the ground,” Maverick interjects.

You sigh. “You would’ve done the same.”

Maverick shakes his head. “You can’t keep using that excuse.”

You stare at him moodily. “You’re not denying it.”

Maverick furrows his eyebrows. “We train like we fight, Lieutenant. So that we can fight like we train. You keep breaking the hard deck during exercise, you’ll end up crashing during combat.”

You seethe under the guise of a polite nod. “Yes, sir,” you reply.

Maverick narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side as though he isn’t convinced that you’re done arguing. “I don’t care if you’ve got bogeys on your tail chasing into the cliffside – you might as well have gone straight through the rock.”

You glare at him, holding back every single retort that threatens to escape your tightly sealed lips. “Yes, sir,” you manage to utter, gritting your teeth the moment the words leave your mouth.

Maverick watches you patiently, waiting for you to dispute his logic. When you don’t, he takes a step forward. “Lieutenant,” he says calmly, his eyes sweeping over your face.

“Captain,” you reply.

He moves just a touch closer, letting his fingers skim the back of your hand. “I need you to be more careful,” he says in a near-whisper.

His proximity dizzies you until you can hardly decipher his words. “Mm-hm,” you respond vaguely.

His thumb draws a couple of circles into your palm, but he never quite takes your hand. “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant,” he says in a low voice.

You close your eyes, letting out a wavering sigh when his breath warms the apple of your cheek. “Aye aye, sir,” you say quietly.

Maverick releases a partially stifled groan, pressing his head against yours for a moment before he steps away. “That shouldn’t turn me on,” he says, backing away further as he holds his arm out, pointing at you.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?” you ask, a little bewildered because you’re still stranded in a moment that’s already passed.

“You calling me that,” he says, shutting his eyes and shaking his head as though he’s attempting to clear it of your sorcery.

“Sir?” you ask.

He laughs tensely. “Stop.”

You press your lips together to keep from smiling. “Captain?” you say innocently, exploiting his weakness now that you’ve caught on. You take a step forward.

He sighs, bringing a hand to his face. “This is bad,” he warns as you approach, although there’s an amused grin on his face.

You bite your lip, smirking. “Do you like it when I’m bad, Captain?”

Maverick’s mouth drops open for a second as he watches you in awe. “Lieutenant,” he says hoarsely, placing his hands on your arms before you can come any closer. “If you’re trying to test my self-restraint, you’re winning.”

“Am I?” you ask softly, trying to push yourself against his hold.

Maverick moves his head to one side, setting his jaw as though he’s bracing himself for a difficult task. “I’m begging you,” he whispers, turning back to look at you as his breathing becomes more pronounced. “Don’t come any closer.”

“You started it,” you say.

He nods. “I won’t make that mistake again,” he says, finally letting go of you and shaking out his hands wearily. “We can’t do this here. If anybody finds out –”

“I know, I know,” you say. “There will be consequences.

…

Later that evening, you meet your squadron at the Hard Deck. You nod at Maverick and Cyclone, who are seated at the bar, but walk past them to join your friends. You spend the night going over the day’s hops with Phoenix, kicking Rooster’s ass at pool, and exchanging furtive glances with your instructor who has yet to run out of creative reasons to look over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of your group near the back of the bar.

It has been two weeks since the locker room fiasco but, in all this time, you and Maverick have barely had a moment alone. Between the grueling training and keeping up appearances, there has hardly been time for romance, so when you see Maverick getting out of his seat and pulling his leather jacket over the fitted, white t-shirt he’s wearing, you can’t help the disappointment you feel.

You down your martini moodily and rise slowly, leaning on the table.

“You doing okay?” Phoenix asks.

You nod, feeling the significant weight of your head as you perform said action. The third martini must have been a double. Still, you straighten your back and release the edge of the table. “Never better,” you respond, taking care not to lose your balance as you spin on the spot. You let out a sigh upon seeing Maverick’s back as he nears the door and start unhurriedly for the bar.

But before you reach it, a man in service khakis steps into your path. Not only is he wearing an exuberant grin, he’s also still sporting his aviators despite the late hour and lack of sunlight indoors. “Hey there, gorgeous,” he says in a jubilant voice.

Cyclone looks up from where he’s seated at the bar and raises his eyebrows in your direction before pointedly turning away. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that Maverick has come to a halt near the exit.

“What’s your poison?” the man asks, putting a hand on your arm and gesturing to the bar.

You watch him quietly for a moment, trying to decide whether you’re devious enough to take advantage of the situation. After all, the moment the man lays his hand on you, Maverick turns to watch you from where he still stands by the door, and you can’t say that the pissed off expression he’s wearing isn’t wildly attractive. But, ultimately, you look up at the man who’s now putting his arm around your shoulder, and say “I’m good, thanks,” and slip out from under his embrace.

“Come on,” the man insists, taking a hold of your wrist as you start to walk away. “One drink, sweetheart.”

In your periphery, you see Maverick start to make his way back toward the bar. “No, thank you,” you reiterate, pulling your hand out of his grasp.

But when you turn away, the man steps into your path. “Don’t be like that, sweetheart,” he says, putting his hands on your waist.

Before you can respond, you hear Maverick’s voice, much closer than you would expect him to be. “I believe the lady said no.”

You glance over to see the threatening look on his face despite the composure in his voice.

“Hey gramps, how ’bout you take a hike?” The man chuckles.

You notice Cyclone turning back to face the three of you, his eyebrows hovering even higher than the last time you saw them. He meets your gaze with a cringe just as Maverick narrows his eyes. “Step away,” he says in a low voice. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

The man leers at Maverick. “Or what?” he asks, tugging you forward.

It takes but a moment for Maverick to wedge himself between the two of you and grab the man by the collar of his uniform, nearly lifting him off the ground. “I suggest you get out of here right the fuck now,” Maverick growls, displacing the man several feet. He drives his back into the bar before finally letting go of his shirt.

“Woah! Woah!” the man yells, clearly not prepared to take a beating for what he thought might be a decent hookup. He holds his hands up, cowering. “I’m leaving, pop.”

Maverick glares at the man as he stalks off in a hurry. You glance nervously between Maverick’s curled up fists and the relaxed set of Cyclone’s shoulders. He’s watching Maverick in amusement. “Well, that was entertaining,” he comments while Maverick continues to seethe.

You wince as Maverick’s jaw hardens in response, not entirely optimistic that Cyclone won’t end up in his path of destruction. You bite your lip as Maverick finally releases a controlled breath and looks in your direction. His eyes sweep fleetingly over your face, although he holds your gaze for a deliberate moment before turning to Cyclone. “I can’t stand that kind of arrogance,” Maverick mutters, reaching for a bar stool next to his superior.

Cyclone smirks at him pointedly. “That’s ironic.”

Maverick gives Cyclone a flat look but doesn’t respond.

Cyclone takes advantage of the break in conversation to glance in your direction. “You alright, Lieutenant?”

You gravitate warily toward the bar. “I could use a drink,” you respond honestly.

Cyclone calls over the bartender while Maverick looks over his shoulder to steal a glance in your direction. He’s wearing an unreadable expression and this about doubles your level of anxiety. Cyclone distributes six shots of Tequila between the three of you and, lifting his shot glass, says, “I thought you were leaving, Maverick.”

Maverick eyes Cyclone impassively. “Is that your toast, sir?” he asks.

Cyclone chuckles. “Why not?” Then he downs his shot.

You follow suit, squeezing your eyes shut as the bitterness of the liquor settles in your mouth. You let out a quick breath before sticking a wedge of lime between your teeth and cringing as you bite down. When you notice both Cyclone and Maverick watching you in amusement, you give them a forced smile. “Oh my god,” you mutter around the lime wedge still in your mouth. “So good.”

The men laugh and you take a breath of relief, feeling the tension dissipate. Maverick raises his second shot glass and, while Cyclone reaches over the bar for the saltshaker, winks at you with a discreet smile. This tiny gesture is enough to send a ripple of electricity through your body.

Cyclone lands back on his barstool with a loud sigh and offers Maverick the salt. Maverick holds up a hand to indicate that he isn’t interested so Cyclone just shrugs and starts sprinkling his hand.

You glance at Maverick just as his eyes linger on yours once again and the desire to touch him becomes disastrously overwhelming. You feel your heart begin to race when you recognize the longing on his face before he squares his jaw and looks into his shot glass. He brings it to his lips, but Cyclone stops him with an outraged “Maverick!” He looks at Cyclone in surprise while the latter shakes his head in disapproval. “It’s your turn to give a toast.”

Maverick lets out a weak chuckle, reverting his gaze to the liquid in his glass. “To the mission, of course,” he says. He takes his shot quickly and then looks at you with a mild squint, as though he’s studying your reaction.

“Of course,” Cyclone agrees and, as he tips his shot glass back, you feel the back of Maverick’s hand brush lightly against your knee.

That’s when the troupe of enthusiastic aviators arrives at the bar. “Excuse the interruption,” Hangman says. “But this looks like a party I want to crash.”

Maverick raises his eyebrows at him. “Typically, I advise my pilots against crashing,” he says.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes at Maverick’s joke while the rest of your squadron gathers around.

Maverick rises, allowing the newcomers access to the counter, and gives you a subtle wink as he moves through the swam of aviators. “See you kids tomorrow,” he says with a smirk.

“Captain!” you exclaim, leaping from your seat and squeezing through the bodies crowding the counter.

Maverick glances back at you warily. “Lieutenant?”

You hesitate for a moment, wondering how appropriate your ensuing request might sound. “Mind giving me a ride back to base?”

Maverick blinks at you mutely before his eyes briefly slide over to Cyclone and then back to you again. “Sure,” he says pleasantly.

You give him a tight smile before turning to bid your friends a good night. Cyclone gives you a quick nod and returns his attention to the beer someone’s just handed him. Apprehensively, you make your way toward Maverick, who’s about halfway to the door. Maverick turns on his heel as soon as you reach him and marches briskly toward the exit. “Keep up, Lieutenant,” he mutters under his breath as you pick up your pace.

“Are you mad?” you ask quietly as he holds the door open for you.

Maverick meets your gaze. “No,” he says with a shift of the jaw as he fights to keep a straight face. “Impatient.”

You raise your eyebrows, stepping over the threshold with a small laugh. Maverick walks out after you and gestures to the parking lot at the side of the building.

Once the two of you are past the large windows of the establishment, you feel Maverick’s fingers weave through your own. The afternoon sun has sunk below the horizon and the long shadows of palm trees start to melt into the soft darkness of dusk. It's thanks to this cover of nightfall that Maverick pulls you aside behind the Hard Deck and, after a quick glance over his shoulder, finally looks you in the eye. “Good evening, Lieutenant,” he says and, even in your pocket of darkness, hidden between the spotlights of two unsuspecting streetlamps, you see the twitch of his lips as his mouth curls upward.

You smile back at him. “Good evening, Captain,” you respond, not meaning to sound quite as sweet as you do, only you’re so enamored by his eyes, it’s damn near impossible to keep from melting.

Maverick brings your hand up and presses it to his mouth, closing his eyes as he lets out a breath. He shakes his head, meeting your gaze with a more serious expression. “Sorry I intervened,” he says.

You blink at him in surprise. “I’m not,” you respond. “I mean, I know you know I can handle myself.”

Maverick chuckles. “I assure you, I don’t doubt your competence.”

You lower your gaze to watch his hand tighten around yours. “It was nice, having you stand up for me.”

Maverick reaches up with his other hand to lift your chin. “I almost decked him.”

You laugh. “I noticed.”

“I think I reacted before I realized that I probably shouldn’t have.”

“Hmm.” You pause, searching his face. “I know the feeling,” you say finally, perhaps a tad sarcastically.

He watches you quietly for a moment, knowing exactly what you’re getting at. “Your barrel roll,” he concedes.

“I was inverted before I even realized it.”

Maverick nods. “You’ve got great instincts.”

You gaze at him thoughtfully. “My point is, I don’t think I would have done the same maneuver at a lower altitude. Another reflex would have kicked in.”

“Look, I’m not going to stand here and deny that you’re a talented pilot. But I’m also not going to commend you for a reckless stunt that put your life in jeopardy and nearly caused your pursuing aircraft to lose control,” Maverick states firmly.

You pout your lips teasingly. “Not even a little?”

Maverick grins reluctantly. He brings his head down to rest over yours. He’s silent for a moment, breathing calmly, in unison with you. “That was some flying today, Lieutenant,” he mutters finally, echoing his morning lecture in an infinitely more agreeable tone. Affectionate. Proud. “Couldn’t have done it better myself,” he half-whispers. His hand moves to cradle your cheek while he places a tender, burning kiss on the corner of your mouth. Your lips part as you let a soft, whimpering sigh escape in the midst of your mounting desire. His lips linger longingly on your cheek before he shifts his weight to move closer and kiss you again. He’s not even kissing your mouth and the passion of the moment is already driving you wild.

Then, just as you’re about to insist on a proper French kiss, a booming voice impedes your plans. “Maverick!”

Maverick leaps away from you like he’s been stung, as though this action might negate what Cyclone has undoubtedly already witnessed. “Sir,” he starts, his tone confident despite the alarm on his face. “Let me explain” –

Cyclone silences him by holding up a hand. He glances mutely between you and Maverick. “I don’t have to tell you what kind of position this puts me in, Captain.”

“I understand that, sir,” Maverick responds with a stiff nod.

Cyclone stands quietly for what seems like a full minute before speaking again. “This ends now,” Cyclone declares levelly, the hushed quality of his voice adding a threatening tone to the statement.

“There’s nothing to end,” Maverick assures him. “This was an error in judgement, and it will not happen again.”

Cyclone juts out his chin in a grimace and shoots a stern glance in your direction. “This ends now,” he repeats, ensuring to enunciate every syllable to emphasize his point.

You don’t say anything, but Cyclone doesn’t wait for you to respond. He heads out into the parking lot, leaving the two of you behind.

Maverick drags a hand over his face. “Of all the fucking people” –

But you don’t let him finish. “Nothing to end?” you say hurtfully. He looks up at you wearily. “An error in judgement?”

Maverick watches you resignedly. “What would you call it?”

The despair on his face frightens you; makes you consider the possibility that his response to Cyclone might have been more deliberate than simply a spontaneous evasive maneuver.

Maverick sighs. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. You meet his gaze; his eyes brim with tears but his jaw is set. “I take full responsibility.”

As if you want an apology. As if you need to place blame. You take a step toward him, but he retreats.

He lets out a labored breath and blinks back a flood of tears. Then, he says in a strained whisper, “This ends now.”

You might’ve accidentally broken the hard deck but, just like that, Maverick intentionally breaks your heart.

Read Part 4

Tag List:

Not sure when Mav's tag list got so long! As always, let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in my works <3 The rest of the list is in the comments.

@wandering-wah

@callsign-sunshine

@ghost-heart34

@birdy-bat-writes

@matya4

@wkndwlff

@nyx2021

@bellamy1998

@oliviah-25

@alexxavicry

@army24--7

@thefandomimagines

@dracosluvbot

@smit41

@scenesofobx

@Criminalmindsandmarvel

@lunamoonbby

@malums-trash-can

@malindacath

@karleetakeenan

@callsign-echo

@toothemoonanddback

@broketraveler87

@atarmychick007

@shanimallina87

@creativitybeware

@xoxabs88xox

@Yoyop7

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

@rrocky0ah

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@lilianashomaresparza

@latetedslesetoiles

@Elenavampire21

@starberryhorse

@ginger-gabsq

@sarcastic-sourwolf

@risingtripletaurus

@callsignmaverick5

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@hermaeusmorax

@littlebadariell

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

@iamabeautifulperson18

@living-in-my-imagination88

@wintercap89

@mavrellover91

@gingerbreadandpaper

[mitchellpete]

Dating Maverick (Headcanons)

summary: What dating Mav is like. (In ‘86 and in TG:M)

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

genre: fluff, a bit of angst

word count: 1278

A/N: if anybody wants a drabble/one-shot or for me to expand on any one of these (or if you wanna just talk about or exchange hcs), drop me an inbox! 

-

1986 (and a few years after-ish)

Maverick is a very gentle lover. It didn’t seem so at first, with how cocky and flirty he might’ve been to catch your attention, but after the second date? So vulnerable and soft with you.

He can sing! Like actually super well. You noticed one day and now you ask him to sing when you can’t sleep. He was kind of self-conscious at first, used to singing with Goose in a playful, rowdy manner, as opposed to softly to you. He grew more comfortable as time passed, and now he likes to sing you his mother’s favorite songs.

But also gets incredibly obnoxious sometimes and will loudly impersonate Elvis while you’re trying to get something done.

Spontaneous road trips on his motorcycle (when he’s able). Dinner in Oceanside. Lunch in Palm Springs. A pick up in Vegas. A day in Phoenix. When? Now! Now?!

Knows the Southwest like the back of his hand, actually. It’s not as fun as flying, but driving through the wide, open stretch of desert with you clinging behind him is one of his absolute favorite pastimes.

Is from somewhere in the Southwest, therefore he absolutely hates the cold. Will have the heater on in the winter time and is not opposed to getting wrapped up in blankets by you. You tease him on how easily cold he gets, and he’ll playfully go “Whatever.”

You frequently find random candid photos of you. Taped to his wall, to his fridge, suddenly framed on his bedside table. He almost never mentions them until you laugh and point them out, to which he responds, “I thought you looked pretty there.” (With a shit-eating grin.)

Definitely has one in his F-14, by the way.

Is very stubborn about his attire. Very insistent on dressing like a cowboy at all times. You had to buy him his first pair of beach shorts.

Loves seeing you in his clothes; he’s crazy about it, actually.

Very cute lunch dates. He knows the best diners.

He likes taking you out for ice cream. Sometimes you share a cone and watch the sunset and the planes soaring through the sky. 

He’s the best kisser. He prefers soft, sensual kissing and it definitely has its effect on you.

He has a habit of leaving paper planes everywhere. Some with love notes in them, others with funny doodles. Sometimes it’s just both of your names written, a little heart in between. 

He rambles a lot. He’s very, very passionate about flying, and about his plane. Though you might not know what he’s talking about, nodding along with a simple smile and asking him a few questions makes him so happy. “Well, no, you see..” And then he goes on and on again. 

At the same time, Maverick can be difficult sometimes. Especially after Goose. Sometimes he feels he needs to be alone, but don’t take it personally. He appreciates your support, but he’s been conditioned to “suck it up and move on.” It weighs on him to have to try, so expect him to be a bit quieter at times, a bit slower. You can sit around with him as he sulks, your head on his shoulder to let him know you need him, and that he’s loved. That he doesn’t have to isolate.

You get to watch him visibly becoming Bradley’s father figure. 

“Hey, about tomorrow’s date. Can I bring the kid?” 

Melting when he’s got Bradley in his lap in front of you, making airplane noises with a french fry to watch Bradley giggle and clap. Your heart swells at how good he is with him.

“Pete.. You can’t take him to watch that movie; it’s not for kids.” His signature grin. “Carole won’t mind.”

-

TG:M

Still sings to you. Or, in general, really. He likes to hum while making you breakfast.

He writes all your dates on his calendar. 

He’s very playful with you. Likes making you double over in laughter because it usually results in you wrapping your arms around him and kissing him.

But he also enjoys when you tease him. Tell him there’s something he can’t do as well as he used to and boy, he will prove you wrong. He insists he’s getting better with age.

He’s still as flirty as ever. Except, you’re already dating, so he does it to watch how flustered you get. He loves making you blush.

He likes pet names. Sweetheart and honey are the ones he calls you the most.

He still does not like proper beach attire. Will roll up his jeans and call it a day.

He loves beach days with you, though. He likes laying back on the sand and watching you sunbathe, or play in the water.

You’re almost scared of phone calls now, with the way you’ve been called and informed of the accidents he’s been in while testing his planes. Though most are minor, you can’t help but worry that the next one might not be.

You’ve cried to him a couple times, making him promise he’ll be careful.

He’s a bigger cuddler at his older age, with the habit of pulling you from where you stand, from whatever you’re doing, and tugging you into bed with him.

He likes it when you play with his hair. It’ll lull him to sleep sometimes. Especially when you gently massage at his scalp, and bonus if you’re giving him kisses too. The fastest way to get him asleep, truly.

Alternatively, he also likes playing with yours. He’ll randomly twirl a strand when you’re in front of him, will tuck another behind your ear, will softly intertwine his fingers in it while you lay on him. 

When he’s able, sleeping in together. As often as he can. 

He notices you so well. If something is bothering you, he’ll make sure to find out what it is. He’s also a very good problem solver (duh, but with mundane things too). You feel like he deals with a lot, so you don’t always take every single one of your problems to him, but boy, when he figures out something is wrong? Expect him to walk you through the simplest of things if that’s what you need. He has an unbelievable amount of patience with you. And if it’s something he can’t help with, he’ll at least want to be there with you as you deal with it. He can be the best listener if you need him to be.

Is a lot more domestic and able to settle down. Likes the idea of having a “home” with you. (Not that he didn’t when he was younger, but he feels more grounded now. More grown up. Able to breathe a bit better.)

He makes your coffee just the way you like it. If he’s up before you, he always wakes you up with it, and a kiss on the forehead.

The days spent in his hangar. 

Sometimes, in the summer, a late night thunderstorm will pass through, and there’s nothing more thrilling than cuddling up to him in the trailer, the both of you giggling at the sound of the rain pattering and the loud cracks of thunder. 

But also the days! Though he’ll be occupied with something, you’re always a mere 10 feet away, reading or sketching or entertaining yourself in whatever way you can. Other times you just watch him work. Other times you ask him to tell you his infamous stories, or about his dad. He’ll have sort of a sad smile as he talks, but you know that he loves talking about the past. You make sure to always make room for it in the tranquility of the desert.

[worldofheroes]

It Was You

pete “maverick” mitchell x reader

summary: when maverick knocks on your door, your true feelings emerge.

warnings: friends with benefits, student/instructor dynamic, age gap (not mentioned), language, drunkenness, make-out session

wc: 823

a/n: based on this request! not necessarily exactly like the song but there’s angst. hope you enjoy!

It had been almost two months since you broke things off with Maverick.

Not that the two of you were really dating, it was more of a friends with benefits type relationship, but after a month you realized how bad of an idea it was to fuck your instructor.

You were doing well, but whenever you passed Maverick in the halls on base, he would give you puppy eyes, like he was trying to apologize for something.

One Friday night, you’re at home watching a movie with your new fling. He’s nothing to write home about, but you needed someone to get your mind off of Maverick.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on your door.

“I’ll get it,” you say, standing up from the couch and heading to the front door.

When you open the door, your smile fades.

“What are you doing here?”

“I miss you,” Maverick mumbles. You can smell whiskey faintly on his breath.

“Maverick,” you sigh. “You’re drunk. Please go home.”

“Not drunk,” he continued to mumble.

“Mav, this is embarrassing, please go.”

Ryan walks up behind you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, he was just leaving, right, Pete?”

The use of his name over his call sign stings not just Maverick, but also you.

Maverick nods, and stumbles off your porch.

“Wait,” you call out. Maverick stops, back still to you.

You turn to Ryan. “I need to get him home before he does anything he’s gonna regret in the morning. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“How do I know you’re not gonna do anything?” Ryan asks.

“Trust me, nothing’s going to happen.”

Ryan stares at you for a moment.

“I’ll be right back,” you mutter, stepping across the threshold.

Maverick is still waiting at the bottom of your steps.

“Why did you come here?” you hiss.

“I miss you,” he repeats, looking at the ground.

You grab his arm and start to lead him to his house.

“Mav, I told you.”

“You don’t look happy with him,” Maverick frowns.

“This is not your place to tell me who I can and can’t date,” you quip.

“Gimme another chance,” he pleads.

“We can’t, Pete. You’re my instructor. There are rules.”

“Fuck the rules.”

“Not these rules. You can do whatever the fuck you want up in the air but we have to follow these rules, Mav.”

You guide him up the steps to his house.

“We were good together,” he mumbles.

“Don’t do this, Pete,” you say, feeling your throat close up and tears forming in your eyes.

Maverick looks up at you with sadness in his eyes.

“I won’t, I’m sorry for knocking on your door,” he says, suddenly stone cold sober.

“I need to go before I do something stupid,” you say, turning away. “Goodnight, Mav.”

“Goodnight, y/n,” Maverick whispers.

You go back to your place, where Ryan is still waiting.

Later that night, as you lay in bed with Ryan, you can’t stop thinking about how you’d rather be next to Maverick.

You spend the weekend with Ryan, but your mind is filled with Maverick. As Ryan walks you to your door Sunday night, you find some courage.

“Ryan, I don’t think this is working for me,” you say.

“What?” he asks you.

“I wanted to make this work, but I just don’t have the same feelings that you do for me.”

“It’s Maverick, isn’t it?”

“Ryan, I…”

“No, I get it. Goodnight.”

Ryan turns on his heel and walks away. You watch him walk out of sight and you walk to Maverick’s house.

You knock on his door, and he answers almost immediately.

“Y/n,” he says softly.

“You were right, Mav,” you say, on the verge of tears.

“What?”

“I miss you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you after Friday night.”

Maverick doesn’t say anything.

“If you changed your mind and don’t feel the same anymore, I get it and I’ll leave if you tell me,” you say, rambling.

Maverick leans in and kisses you, hard. Your arms wrap around his neck instinctively, and you push him back inside his house, kicking the door shut behind you.

He pushes you up against the door with a thud. Maverick’s tongue eagerly swipes against your lips, wanting in.

Of course, without any hesitation, you part your lips for him, his tongue moving in and swiping against yours.

A moan slips out of your mouth and into his, and he sighs happily.

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me,” Maverick tells you.

“You’re the worst thing that’s happened to me,” you tease.

He smiles. “I know you don’t mean that.”

You giggle and kiss him again, happy to be back in his arms.

“I’m sorry I walked away, I was scared,” you say softly.

“Don’t be, y/n,” Maverick reassures you, pulling you in for a hug. He kisses the top of your head.

“Mav,” you sigh, squeezing him tighter, never wanting to let go ever again.

[malavera]

daddy daddiest