#pete mitchell fanfiction

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Best of the Bad Boys | Part II

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

Summary: You've fallen for the best of the best. Unfortunately, he also happens to be the worst of the worst.

CW: mild angst, swearing, fluff

WC: ~1900

Part I | Masterlist

“Why didn’t you tell me Viper was your father?” Maverick calls, following you out into the lot.

You’re walking briskly ahead of him because you were hoping to postpone this very conversation. You slow your pace a touch and glance back at him over your shoulder. “You didn’t ask.”

Maverick gives you a disgruntled look and slides a pair of aviators over his eyes. “Cute,” he replies curtly, walking past you toward his bike.

“Did you tell my father what you’re giving me a ride in?” you ask, eyeing the motorcycle skeptically.

Maverick pauses briefly as he grabs the handlebar and lowers his head to peek up at you over the rims of his sunglasses. “Your father trusts me to fly jets. I think he’d be okay with the Ninja.”

You shrug nonchalantly. “It’s your ass on the line.”

Maverick exhales sharply and takes a step toward you. “Exactly,” he says moodily. “You could’ve given me a heads up.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again!” you exclaim in a forceful whisper, very conscious of how close he’s gotten. “I never come here.” You look around anxiously, ensuring that no one is around. “Today was an exception – obviously,” you finish, rubbing the back of your head where your clip had broken against it.

Maverick watches you intently. “Are you okay?” he finally says.

“You already asked me that,” you retort grumpily, lowering your gaze.

“I’m asking again.”

“I’m fine.”

Maverick lets out another sigh and then mounts his bike. He glances over at you. “You coming?”

You hesitate for a moment before climbing onto the back of the seat. Tentatively, you take a hold of his jacket, being careful not to actually touch his body.

But Maverick takes your hand in his and brings it around his torso, pressing it into his abdomen. You hold your breath nervously, trying not to think about the ripple of abs you can feel underneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt. “I’m not going to be flooring it,” he says, starting the engine. “But I’d still prefer it if you held on.”

You bring your other hand around to his stomach, wondering if riding around on a motorcycle is really the best pastime for someone whose limbs are still feeling like jelly after an – albeit minor – collision. You know that your father would certainly not approve. And yet, you somehow feel like you could trust Maverick to deliver you home safe and sound.

As Maverick pulls out of the lot, he yells to you over the roar of the engine, “You thought you’d never see me again?”

You stare at the back of his neck, wondering how the heck you’re going to reply. Thankfully, the motor is loud enough that you have some time to think about it.

When Maverick slows to a stop at a red light, he turns his head to the side so that you’re graced with the contours of his side profile for several moments. He doesn’t strain to look at you over his shoulder but the pause as he lowers his gaze to the asphalt is enough to confirm that he’s awaiting a response.

“I didn’t know you were planning on staying,” you say, trying to infuse your voice with confidence despite your discomfort.

Maverick revs his engine just before the light turns green and starts rolling through the intersection the moment it changes. He doesn’t say anything else until he parks outside your house and kills the engine. “I wasn’t,” he says evenly and then climbs off the bike. He turns to look at you coolly and offers a hand to help you down.

You ignore his outstretched hand and dismount without his help. “You weren’t going to stay?” you ask casually, pretending that the impending answer is entirely insignificant to you.

Maverick shakes his head. “I turned down the offer last week.”

You gulp anxiously, suddenly severely distraught at the thought of Maverick leaving – even though you apparently ‘never thought you’d see him again.’  “But my dad said – does he know that you turned down the offer?”

Maverick watches you in silence for a second and then nods. He drops his gaze then and mutters, “I called him this morning, told him I was reconsidering my decision.” His eyes meet yours again with a stoic expression.

You blink to break the eye contact and look away uneasily. “How come?” you ask nonchalantly.

“Just felt like sticking around for a bit,” he says.

You glance up at him and, while he’s still not exactly smiling, the crease between his furrowed eyebrows has softened a touch. You realize that his change of heart must have had – at least in part – something to do with you, considering it happened immediately after your encounter. But you’re too afraid of being wrong to voice this theory so, instead, you say, “Even so, I’m hardly ever on base and I don’t exactly hang out at the officer’s club very often. The chances of us running into each other again were pretty slim.”

Maverick narrows his eyes. “You gave me your number.”

“Would you have called?”

Maverick stares at you. “I wouldn’t have asked for it if I wasn’t going to call.”

You shrug. “It was a fake number.”

Maverick raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Alright,” he says. “I’ll see you around then.” He turns back to his bike and swings his leg over to mount it. “Or I guess I won’t,” he adds, turning the key in the ignition.

You panic and take a step toward him, placing your hand over the handlebar and grasping it firmly. “Can you image if I had given you my real number?” you ask. “You would’ve called – maybe” – you add with an eyeroll – “But, if you had and my father picked up? Then what?”

Maverick holds your gaze as your words sink in. Of course, your logic is sound. You couldn’t give him your real number. “You could’ve told me he was your father,” he says levelly, clearly still abundantly vexed. “What else did you lie about?”

You tighten your grip around the handlebar until your knuckles turn white. “Don’t act like you had any intention of seeing me again. And, if you did, how would I know? It’s not like you have a history of committed relationships.”

“What do you know about my history?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow as though you’ve piqued his interest.

You freeze for a moment and press your lips together crossly, annoyed that he’s caught onto the fact that you know more about him than you’d originally let on. “Are you going to take the position?” you ask irritably, completely ignoring his question.

“How can I?” he asks, raising his voice. Then, in a desperate whisper, he adds, “I slept with my superior officer’s daughter!”

You stare at him guiltily. “He doesn’t have to know,” you say.

“I know,” Maverick responds, his eyes boring into yours.

You sigh. “Pretend you don’t.” After a few moments of silence, you let go of the bike and give him a tight smile and a small wave as you start to back away.

Maverick doesn’t wave back. He watches you grimly as you retreat until you finally turn your back to him and ascend the steps of your porch.

You pause at your front door, wondering if you're ever going to see him again. But as you start to dig in your pocket for your house key, you feel a hand graze your upper back, and you whip your head around in surprise. How Maverick managed to scale your porch in under five seconds is beyond you, but you’re far too swept away to ruminate on the details.

Maverick waits a beat, his fingers sliding down your arm as you rotate to face him. His gaze slips momentarily to your lips before he says, “I’m not good at pretending.”

You stare at him in shock as the familiar weakness in your knees – a recurring ailment where Maverick is concerned – threatens to compromise your balance. Standing there, admiring the angles of his face, you suddenly can't think of anything more awe-inspiring. “You should take the job,” you say feebly as he draws ever closer.

Maverick sets his jaw and breathes forcefully out through his nose as though he’s combatting a sentiment he’d rather not express. “Okay,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead. This move destabilizes you further.

You glance up at him and his lips brush softly over the tip of your nose. Your heart springs violently into your throat and then proceeds to bounce around your ribcage like a pinball. He smells like leather and cologne and his light eyes hold your gaze like a magnet. “I’ll stay away from the base,” you say quietly, not daring to believe your own words.

His hands slide up your shoulders and then your neck and then he cradles your head in his palms. “Okay,” he repeats, his face so close to yours that you can almost taste the citrus in his aftershave.

You try to control your breathing, closing your eyes as his thumbs sweep gently over your cheeks. “We can forget all about this,” you whisper very faintly, as though you don’t want to be heard.

Maverick nudges your face with the tip of his nose and mutters, “Okay,” in a warm, humid whisper. His lips move slowly over yours and, languidly, he wraps an entire arm around the back of your neck to bring your closer. He takes a few steps toward you but, since you’re already flush against his body, you’re forced to take a few steps back.

“Thank you for the ride,” you mumble against his lips and you feel him grin at your words.

“My pleasure,” he responds without taking his mouth off yours. He guides you backward until you’re against the front door of your house and suddenly you realize that you’re making out with a Top Gun aviator under your father’s roof.

This thought startles you awake and you brace your hands against Maverick’s chest, giving him a slight push.

Maverick withdraws instantly and drops his head with a heavy sigh before glancing up at you with a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” he says, despite the unapologetic grin.

You scoff with an eye roll and shake your head. Not only is this turn of events the complete opposite of your earlier proposition but it’s also very much something you swore you’d never do. Maverick is just about the worst decision you could make and yet, here you are continuing to make it. “My friend told me you’re trouble,” you say, straightening your posture because you’re now addressing something of utmost importance.

Maverick’s mouth tightens slightly as he attempts to keep a straight face. “Susan?”

“Yes, Susan,” you retort mockingly, surprised that he remembers her name.

Maverick purses his lips, shifting his jaw in thought as he squints his eyes at you. “What sort of trouble?”

You give him a flat look. “She wasn’t specific.”

He nods. “How convenient.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You’re denying this?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Nah, she’s probably right.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Good to know.”

He meets your gaze with a more genuine expression. “Come on,” he says. “It’s not like you haven’t already made up your mind about me.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, ignoring the way his eyes are sparkling in the afternoon sun. You’d love to just be straightforward and ask what his true intentions are, but that seems lame and boring and awkward. And you’re none of those things. So, you say, “Would you like to come in for a minute?”

Maverick gives you a small smile and nods. “Okay,” He responds.

Maverick Tag List:

The rest of the list will be in the comments. Let me know if I missed you! As always, let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in my Mav works!

@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

[rebelliousstories]

Vintage

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,012

Main Masterlist: Here

Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist: Here

Summary: No matter how old he gets, there’s something so nostalgic about drinking a coke from a bottle on the beach for the holidays.

Consider Donating: Here

There was just something so peaceful about being at the beach on Christmas. A chill in the air, sand between your toes, people all around. It sounded chaotic, but it was not. It was relaxing, especially to the man who had just been granted leave from the Navy for two weeks. And night one was definitely going to be at the beach.

“Mav, if you wanna get going to make it on time, we need to leave!” A feminine voice shouted through the house. She was on a mission to find her lover who had disappeared.

“I’m coming, sweetheart.” Maverick called back, adjusting his Henley. The shower had done him good at making him presentable after working on his plane for the better part of the day.

“There you are, pretty boy,” she teased as soon as she saw him step out of their bedroom. Immediately, her hands came up to wrap around him. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she asked, “ready?”

Nodding, Pete did a the phone-keys-wallet pat down that he always did. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Hopping onto one of the many bikes that Mitchell owns, the couple zoomed through the streets of San Diego. She held on tight as he weaved in and out of the roads. Lights blurred past them as the wind whipped through her hair. Thankfully, she had the wherewithal to tie it back before hopping on. The speakers on the bike kept blasting wonderful 80’s music as they tore down the roads, continuing faster and faster.

Pulling into a parking spot right up at the front, the couple made their way on to the pier to experience the little festival going on. There were so many stalls and vendors for them to choose from; it almost appeared to be too much to do in one night. Excitedly, they stopped off at a stall and grabbed a hot chocolate to enjoy as they walked around.

They found different food stalls and indulged in free samples. She even got herself a new ring from one of the gemstone vendor near where they had parked. It was just a wonderful night to spend with each other. Maverick had unknowingly stumbled upon a stall with bottled drinks.

“Honey, look,” she pointed, “they’ve got bottled coke. Didn’t you used to go crazy for that when you were a boy in the 30’s?” She continued to tease.

Rolling his eyes, Pete pinched her side, “very funny, darling.”

However, he let his eyes linger on the bottles. They did not even look like the new ones they had come out with recently. Those bottles had the classic design; the design he remembered drinking as a young man back in the 80’s. Stepping up to the counter, she ordered the some actual dinner rather than the snacks they have had along the way. Casting a look at her boyfriend, she quickly tagged on two drinks.

Taking Pete’s hand, she pulled them over to a table while they waited for their order to come out.

“You alright, Mav?” Her hand reached over the wooden table to hold his.

“Yeah,” he answered, but it was a bit distant. “Just got a memory in my head, you know.”

Smiling, she stroked her thumb across the top of his hand. “Tell me.”

“Okay, so,” Pete started, “one time, Goose and I were waiting on a plane. One of our buddies had agreed to give us a flight out east to where Carol was, but we had to wait till he got off duty to get the flight. Which meant that we were stuck in San Francisco for about ten hours. Goose had this brilliant idea of going to the beach while we waited since it was a nice day out.’

‘So there we were, in our uniforms with bags, just sitting on the beach. All of the sudden, some kid with a cart rolled by and asked if we wanted something cold to drink. He had water and different sodas. But we just got two cokes in bottles for a dollar. We sat out there drinking our cokes, waiting for our flight. It was a good day.” He finished the story just as their burgers were coming out. However, when the drinks were put on the table, he paused.

“Figured you’d like a coke.” She smirked, already popping the top off of hers on the edge of the table. “Maybe we can make this a Christmas tradition. Cokes on the beach? I mean, I know I’m not Goose, but maybe a second best.”

Pete just huffed in disbelief as he was able to get his hands around the sweating bottle. Popping it on the table just like his girlfriend had done, he took a sip and smiled. “You will never be second best to anyone.”

After a moment of silence, he spoke up again. “Thanks, darling. I really do appreciate the thought. Haven’t had a bottled coke in years. Not since everything went to cans and bottles were difficult to find.” Maverick smiled at her, clinking their bottles together.

“Anything for my vintage man.” He rolled his eyes at her tease.

“I’m not vintage. I’m classic. Get it right.” Pete replied, taking a bite of his burger.

“Eh, tomato, tomahtoe.” She shrugged, taking a bite of her own burger.

“You’ll be walking home if you keep that up.”

With a gasp, she pressed a hand to her chest in faux shock. “My darling boyfriend would never do that to me after I got him dinner and a coke bottle, now would he? He wouldn’t prove to be a grumpy old man?”

“I’ll show you a grumpy old man,” he grumbled, shooting his eyes up through his lashes.

“Oh, you better.” Sending a kiss through the air and over their food, she took another sip of her coke and relished in the moment she had with him.

All Pete offered a smirk and an impish wink in return. Sometimes the best things in life are those vintage classics that we all remember at a better time of life.

[thewulf]

Downright Gorgeous || Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Summary: Request - Hi! Can you write a request about ‘86 Maverick where they’re like at the club or something and some other pilot tries to flirt with the reader and that makes the reader feel anxious and nervous, so when Maverick sees this, he gets all mad at the other pilot and protective over the reader and he defends her. Just something angsty and fluffy:) I’d totally understand if you don’t want to write it

A/N: Who doesn't love a good Top Gun 1986 Mav! He's so precious.

Pairing: Young Pete "Maverick"Mitchell x Y/N

Word Count: 3,400+

You’d known Pete for almost as long as your brother, Nick, had. He’d only beaten you by a few days. You were a Naval nurse that always seemed to be stationed close to your brother. The first time you met Pete was when he got sucker punched in the face by a rather handsome man in Tom Kazansky. He went running to medical and you were his nurse. He was enamored with you quickly, especially learning that you were Goose’s sister, twin sister at that.

After years of playful flirting and happen chances you were moved to Miramar right after your brother and Pete were shipped off. Curious it was. You missed him, truly, so it was a little exciting to get the call. The two of you were literally attached at the hip growing up, being twins and all. This was the loneliest time in your life, you’d be amiss to say you were jealous he’d found a replacement for you so quickly after he left for flight school. Those couple years between school and deployments were your least favorite as the two of you barely saw each other.

You were captured in that Mitchell charm rather quickly that first time you met him. It took you a moment to piece together that he was your brothers new friend. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t think he was handsome as hell, even if he wasn’t the kind of guy you’d normally go after.

You knew you could look but couldn’t touch. Not with Nick’s best friend. He’d skin your ass alive, and you knew that. That didn’t stop you from forming a massive crush on him as you got to know him more throughout the years though. The two of you shamelessly danced around what could be on a daily basis. Nick knew there was probably something more there. Even if he tried to deny the connection the two of you had. He’d only be able to stop it for so long. But he’d keep trying for his sake. He knew as soon as Pete committed to somebody the time he got with his best friend would dwindle quickly. But, if Pete was going to get with somebody he’d be thrilled for it to be you.

You’d just gotten into Miramar and settled in when your brother invited you out to The Hard Deck for some drinks. He promised it wouldn’t get too rowdy knowing you were much more of a homebody rather than a party goer these days. When Nick casually mentioned that Pete would be coming with him you quickly agreed. Nick wasn’t stupid. He knew all about your silly little crush on his best friend. He could get you to go almost anywhere if Pete would be going. He then turned around and convinced Pete to go by mentioning that you agreed if he’d be there. Little did Nick know he was playing mini matchmaker as the two of you got closer and closer with each little activity he’d planned.

When you walked through the front door of the Hard Deck, after putting some effort into the way you looked because… Pete, your attention was drawn to the bar where your brother and Pete were already sitting, “Well I’ll be damned. Y/N Bradshaw out at a bar. A sight rarely seen.” He stood offering his seat to you as the bar had already filled out earlier on in the night than you’d expect. You’d be lying if you said you thought far too much of the little interaction. He was just being kind. You were his best friends twin sister after all. Nothing more, no matter how much you wished it differently.

You rolled your eyes punching him in the shoulder, “Keep that up and I’ll high tail it right out of here Mitchell.”

He winked leaning on your barstool rather than Nick’s, “Love that mouth on you Bradshaw.”

“Jesus, I’m sitting right here.” Nick sighed rolling his eyes at the two of you. Seemingly realizing the two of you were closer than ever at actually going for it. He’d seen Pete lay it on thick before, but this was something else.

Pete flicked his eyes over to his friend, “Wish you weren’t.” That got a laugh out of you. He was so fucking smooth when he wanted to be. Nick simply flipped him off before muttering something, grabbing his beer, and heading to the other side of the bar.

“Can’t believe that worked.” You laughed while flagging down the bartender to order your drink.

Pete smiled at you, taking in your appearance. You hadn’t a clue the massive crush he too harbored on you. Nick didn’t know for sure, but he thought he knew it was deeper than he was making it out to be. Pete wasn’t shy about making comments. He was always careful not to cross a line. But lately things were changing for the two of you. He was utterly pulled to you. Wanting to be around you at nearly every turn. Like two magnets drawn to one another.

“You should know by now Goose does what I ask him to.” He raised his eyebrows studying your face for your reaction.

“Does he now?” You asked leaning back after thanking the bartender for your pale ale.

Pete nodded slowly grinning right at you.

“Won’t be the same case for me. But you know that.” Not having a clue where the outwardly confidence was coming from you took a sip of your own beer eyeing him curiously.

Laughing, he nodded his head in agreement, “Trust me pretty, I do.” Pete smirked seeing the inevitable blush that started forming on your cheeks. It wasn’t the first time he’d used that name on you, but damn did it make your heart race. You wanted nothing more than to have him think you were pretty.

You decided to push it tonight because why not? Pete always pushed it, maybe it was your turn, “Pretty?” You asked leaning forward towards him, utterly interested as to what he had to say to that.

Pete raked his eyes up and down you sitting frame slowly, so slowly, “Downright gorgeous if I’m honest.” He nodded agreeing with himself.

“I don’t think Nick would like you saying that.” You could’ve sworn your heart stopped at the way he smiled at you. Like nothing you’d ever seen before with him.

“Goose isn’t around. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He leaned forward staring right at your lips. He surely wasn’t afraid to hide his desires. Desires you wished the two of you could act upon.

Before anything further could go on Pete was pulled into another conversation to his side, literally. A hand grabbed him and pulled him. You heard the groan as he turned back to you, “Be right back pretty. Iceman here needs some help.” He winked at you before receiving a clap to the back of the head earning a snicker from you.

It wasn’t five seconds later another person tried and succeeded in sitting at Pete’s spot, “I’m sorry, that spots taken.” You spoke not looking over. Truth be told you hated confrontation more than anything.

“Well, I’d argue it’s not.” A male voice spoke. You rolled your eyes finally looking over at him. ‘Course he was a pilot in those pretty white Navy uniforms you loved so dearly. He would’ve been handsome had he not opened up that ugly mouth of his.

“My friend is just using the restroom. He’ll be right back.” You looked around for Pete after losing him in the crowd to his pilot buddies. Your brother was long lost to the crowd as well. You’d just have to deal with the pig on your own.

“I’ll hold his spot until he’s back then, beautiful.” That got you to look at the sleezy man once again. He just wasn’t getting your hint.

This right here was why you avoided places like these. You peaked around once more feeling defeated not spotting any familiar faces in the crowd, “I’d rather you not.”

He laughed, a gross sound compared to Pete’s casual one, “Playing hard to get is adorable hun.” He cooed, mocking you. Surely a man who rarely got rejected. Maybe you should just get up and give up the spot. It wasn’t worth it at this point. This douchebag was being relentless, and he wouldn’t stop, you knew that.

Your frustration was evident on your face, he clearly wasn’t picking that up, “Please, just go, my boyfriend will be right back.”

He laughed that nasty laugh, throwing his head back, “Oh he’s your boyfriend now? Was just your friend a moment ago.” He leaned forward placing a hand on your knee. You jerked it back quickly without much of a second thought while sending him a nasty glare.

“Don’t touch me.” It didn’t sound as menacing as you’d have hoped. A shaky sounding voice exited as you’d prayed somebody would come and save you. The dude clearly didn’t have any boundaries.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He cooed at you again with that stupid smile creeping up all over again.

Lucky for you Pete had seen the interaction as he was keeping an eye on you. The dude seemed harmless at first until he laid a hand on you. Disgust crossing your face let him know you weren’t comfortable in the slightest. He had to do something. You were his best friends sister.

Before you could respond Pete did for you, “Get the hell out of my seat. The fuck is wrong with you?” Pete nearly growled. A sight you had yet to see from the man. It made you feel weirdly attracted to him at that very moment, a protective nature unfolding before you.

The man smirked while getting up from the seat, “The friend boyfriend I presume.” Shooting you a wink he turned back to Pete.

Pete shook his head, “Fuck off Lieutenant.” You saw the man glance at Pete’s status on his uniform indicating his recent promotion to Captain. There was something. The man rolled his eyes this time before walking away leaving you with an enraged Pete.

He turned to you looking you over. His expression softened seeing your irritated gaze, “Are you alright Y/N?” He asked looking you over, afraid of what the answer could be.

“I’m fine.” You looked away from him quickly feeling almost embarrassed at how quickly the entire thing escalated.

He sat down looking at you skeptically, “Are you sure?”

You nodded finding his concern more than endearing, “Yeah.”

“You don’t sound like it Bradshaw. The woman I know is usually a lot more decisive.” He pressed wanting to make sure you actually were fine. As much as you tried to deny it or wanted to hide it Pete knew you. He knew what your ticks were and handsy men were certainly one of them.

Closing your eyes, sighing, then taking a sip of your beer you thought for a moment, “I’m okay. You got here just in time. I just…” You paused not sure where you were going with it, “Never mind.” You spoke softly in frustration with yourself. Why was being real and vulnerable with him seeming so impossible? He’d been nothing but patient and kind with you, why were you having a hard time returning the favor? Digging down into the next layer seemed so scary, you’d never let anybody do it before. Maybe, just maybe, you were terrified to take the next step with somebody. Let alone your fucking brothers best friend.

Pete shook his head terribly unsatisfied at that answer, “No say it pretty girl. Stop hiding from me. It’s just you and me here, nobody is listening in.” He could see your eyes nervously trailing the bar. Like you were planning your escape. God, he really did know you and your mind because that’s exactly what you were planning, the great escape.

You gulped down a few drinks of the cold beer trying to find the nerve before continuing, “I just wish men would listen. I told him no five times and he wouldn’t take the damn hint Pete. It’s not the first time either. Seems like every time I come to one of these stupid bars this type of shit happens.” You sighed setting the coaster you were playing with in your hands down, “That’s why I hate coming out. It happens more often than not.” You admitted to him. Slowly you looked over to him, afraid of the reaction you would get from him. So often you’d get dismissed, your concerns tossed aside. It’s truly why you just stayed home. It was easier to avoid the situation entirely rather than get victim blamed for whatever action the man of the day decided to do.

You watched him process your words though. Really listen. A brief flash of hope surged through your body as he seemed to be the first male, other than your brother, who actually listened to you, “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry you have to worry about that. I’m sorry we are like that…” This time he paused looking away from you, trying to find his words. Because this wasn’t easy for him either. He was Pete, the playboy. The guy who flirted with anything that moved. The guy who could get whatever he wanted. But with you? You made him feel special. You filled a void he’d been searching for. He was convinced that was why he was the way he was. He was searching for that something that he could never seem to find. Then he found you. But you were off limits. So, he doubled down and tried to find something just like you, or better. But that was a pipe dream, he knew it. Nobody was like you. Nobody could compliment him as well as you did. Nobody seemed to come even remotely close to challenging him like you did. You were quick, witty, charismatic, everything he was looking for in a partner.

You nodded listening to him. Before you could respond though he continued, “I won’t lie to you Bradshaw, I was one of those guys. Been one of those guys. Thought it was charming or some shit like that. But you’ve opened my eyes to it. A lot of these guys think they know better, they’ll never listen. They’re asshole pilots.”

You laughed at that, feeling a small weight being lifted off your shoulders. Pete was digging with you, willing to get deeper than either of you had before, “Like you? An asshole pilot?” You joked with him, wanting to lift the mood just a bit.

He pushed your side lightly, loving the banter between the two of you. That’s how he knew you really were okay. Or that you’d be okay. He’d make sure of it, that was for damn sure, “Oh pretty.” He tossed back the last bit of beer from his glass, snickering after he gulped it down, “You’re sitting with the biggest asshole pilot out here.”

You laughed at that comment, “For some reason, I don’t have a doubt in my mind at all.”

He grinned enjoying seeing you with a smile on your face once more. He adored that smile of yours, “Only in the air though.”

You pushed his side in return, “Now I know you’re lying.” You shot him a wink loving the reactions you were able to stir out of him.

“You’re nothing but trouble Bradshaw.” His laugh was infectious. You couldn’t help but to join in giggling with him. There was something about him that just made you feel so utterly like yourself, perfectly content.

Feeling overly confident you answered him, “I don’t think you’d have it any other way. I get the feeling you like it.”

He nodded, a growing smile on his face, “I do. You know what else I like?” He looked you over again, letting you know just how pretty he thought you really were with that smirk washing over his face.

You cocked your head to the side wondering where he was going with this, “What’s that?”

He grinned loving every second of this, “You, I like you Y/N.”

You were sure your cheeks were as red as a damn tomato, sure of it. Your heart picked up to a rapid-fire speed as you processed what he said to you, “You… what?” Was all your brain could think to spit out at that comment.

His smile only grew seeing you work through it knowing he had completely thrown you off your game. He loved doing that to you. The overthinker you were surely didn’t account for this though, “I like you. Isn’t it obvious Bradshaw? I call you pretty, flirt with you all the time, annoy your brother to death about you.”

The blush on your cheeks surely darkened at that, “You do? He’s never said anything.”

Pete nodded, “Don’t think he’s actively trying to hook his best friend and sister up.”

“Well, when you put it like that.” You laughed realizing how ludicrous it really did sound. Was this actually happening? He actually liked you?

When you went silent for a moment and got that far off stare he knew he needed to speak up, “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours Y/N.” He took your hand in his, a bold move. One he’d been dying to do for quite some time. Between the alcohol and the confession and your obviously good reaction to it all had him feeling a little bit more daring with you than he’d normally would have been.

“You like me?” You turned to him with a look of confusion on your face.

He nodded quickly, “I thought I made it pretty obvious.”

“You probably did. I’m just clueless sometimes.” You smiled relishing in the feeling of Pete holding your hand in his much larger ones.

“You don’t say.” He gave your hand a squeeze letting you take your time. Not forcing you into any sort of confession.

But you wanted to give him one, because damn did he make you feel all sorts of things, “I like you too. You know that?”

This time it was his turn to have that shocked expression cross his face, “You do?”

“A lot.” You nodded your head at him, “More than I probably should.”

He leaned in a little closer now, closer than he’d been before, “I’d argue against that Bradshaw.” Brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face he took you in at a distance much closer than he’d normally seen you. Breathtakingly beautiful, that was his conclusion.

“At the bar? Really guys?” Your brothers annoying as hell voice broke the concentration the two of you had on one another. Pete rolled his eyes while you turned away in embarrassment.

Pete sighed before flipping his eyes to his RIO, "Goose! Really man?” Pete threw him a nasty look before pulling away from you.

“That’s my sister.” He shot him an equally as nasty look with his arms crossed over his chest. If your face wasn’t as red as a damn tomato from the confession it surely was from getting caught by your brother.

“Adult sister who can make her own decisions.” You coughed making sure to insert yourself between the bickering boys.

Nick only flipped you off. Pete gave you a high five loving how you could get under your brothers skin just as deep as he could. He was convinced the two of you were made for each other.

Nick scrunched his nose getting that defeated look across his face, “I don’t condone this.” He pointed at the both of you.

“But?” You interjected knowing he had more to say. Nick always had something more to say.

“I can’t stop it either.” He shook his head before looking right at Pete, “Maverick I swear to God if you hurt her in any way… I’ll beat the living shit out of you.”

Pete smiled knowing that was a valid threat, “I wouldn’t expect anything less Goose. Trust me though, I think it’s her you have to worry about. She’s going to break my heart.” Pete shot you one last wink before grabbing your hand in his. Letting Nick know just how serious he was planning to take this one. You weren’t like his flings of the past. You were different. You were you. He was waiting on you and here you are. Ready to start this life with him, one step at a time.

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[mqverick]

Walking On Air || chapter 9

Take me to bed or lose me forever, was what Carole said to Goose every time they were together, having fun. Maverick never really understood what she meant by it until he started having feelings for you. It was exactly how he felt about you; he needed to just fuck everything and everyone, every obstacle in the way, and take you with him before he could lose you to someone else — which ironically enough, had already happened.

Or so he thought, until the other night.

He had been so fixated on the fact that you were taken so deeply inside of him, that he believed he could never fully have you, that part of your mind would always stay true to Iceman, even if the miracle happened and you broke up with him.

Hearing the drunken words come out of your mouth, so rushed and so painfully angsty, got him hoping you might be getting lost in the same path he’d been since the day you spoke to him for the first time. Drunken words were — in fact — sober thoughts, after all. Not to mention that it was the — what, third? — time he almost got to kiss you. Maverick was not the one to pine after someone, he was used to the exact opposite effect, never having to chase anyone.

He liked having to chase after you, though. He liked to dream up flawless scenarios of you, desperately wanting them to come to life. He liked how much of a dopamine rush he got from those breathless conversations and moments with you. It was hard to resist the urge to keep his feelings buried, opting to play them off as a charismatic, casual flirt — because that was what he’d been used to. That was all he knew.

You liked the way he yearned for you as well. He just made you feel so irresistibly wanted and loved, even if his cockiness never really helped his pure feelings come to light. You were very aware of them though, you were in the same page as him, never mind the fact that for you, it happened as an accident. Sure, a little flirting never hurt anyone — but oh, he was holding your hand (and for some reason you found yourself struggling to breathe steadily.)

In the morning, you woke up wanting to beat yourself to death. You’d been mindless; consuming all that alcohol, getting yourself hammered and ignoring the consequences.

Goose’s words were bloody when he said that Maverick technically had every right to hit on others. Goose’s words teared your heartstrings in pieces and made you conscious of how you’d been accusing everyone else to be a jerk, when in reality, you’d been the only twat in the story.

Maverick probably hated you.

Tom would probably hate you, too.

You tried. Gave it your all — good point to chuckle — to make your relationship with him work, but every time you closed your eyes, your mind betrayed you, unable of getting a certain someone out of the picture. The worst thing was the fact that you didn’t even really care whether Tom would want to cut you off once he found out about the situation you’d been dealing with.

You were frightened of the scenario where Pete stopped caring about you, mostly because it was impossible to imagine. Therefore, you did your best to turn yourself invisible by making up a rushed excuse of being too hungover to properly function at Top Gun, opting to stay home.

Tom respected your decision, wishing you to get well soon as he gave you a sweet kiss goodbye.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you fell back on the couch with a plop. You felt as if hours had passed when a thud on the door startled you. You fumbled to get up, standing unblinking as you opened the door to see Maverick holding a paper bag with both of his hands as he fiddled the heel of his shoe around the floor while chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Heard Ice say you felt poorly and got you something,” he spoke lowly, reaching his hand out for you to take the item he held. Your lips parted in silent surprise as you hesitantly invited him in. “Look, I know you don’t want to see me, but you might as well say a word, because it’s getting sort of weird.”

“Maverick, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d bring you a little something to eat.”

You honestly despised the man. How did he still care about you after you you’d been unable to seal your mouth shut the night before, yammering about mistreating you (mind the irony), you didn’t know. Still, that did not constitute an obstacle for you to lunge forward and fling yourself into his arms, your head hitting against his chest as you encircled his waist tightly. You moved your head a little, stopping dead in your tracks as your ear picked up the sound of his heartbeat violently increasing.

He still had to reach for you, taken aback by your sudden affection and not being sure how to react. Maverick’s brain short-circuited, until everything finally clicked and he was holding you so close to his body, he thought he was squishing the life out of you — but he never heard you complain.

“I’m so sorry, Pete,” you whispered, muffled in the fabric of his shirt. You wanted to say more, apologize for being so ridiculously indecisive and not giving him the chance to move on, instead having him wait until you could grow a pair and end things with Tom, but the words died down in your throat when you felt his fingers tangle in your hair, his palm now cupping the back of your head. He knew you could hear his heartbeat and he also knew it was giving him away.

When you pulled away, your knees buckled and you almost melted into a puddle. His hands had somehow traveled down to your smaller ones, holding them delicately.

Take me to bed or lose me forever.

“It’s a grilled cheese, in case you were wondering, by the way,” Maverick blurted, looking over to the paper bag with the food you’d left on a counter.

“I love it.” I love you.

“I need to get going.”

“No,” you argued, grabbing his hand in yours the moment he reached for the door handle. “Stay here with me. I’m sure Viper’s more than happy that you’re not there to wreck the planes. Goose might be missing you, but he can cry about it to Carole when the day is over.”

Maverick let an amused chuckle escape from his lips as he wrapped his fingers around your wrists, gently rubbing on the skin with his thumbs.

“You want me to stay with you?” he asked in disbelief. It was adorable how flustered he was.

“I’m not repeating anything, Mitchell.”

With a little smirk and a smudge look on his face, he moved toward you, leaning in closer to your lips, which was a scenario you’d accepted, hadn’t he had a sudden change of heart and went for your forehead instead, pressing a long, warm kiss against it that made you shudder under his touch.

“You want me to stay with you,” he chimed, sounding more as if he was bragging to himself.

You tried to stifle a smile as you placed your ear over his drumming heartbeat, already forgetting you had the whole ‘sick from the booze’ act to keep up, but then again, when had you ever been able to hide what you really felt around Maverick?

“We can’t be here though,” you suddenly mouthed, the image of Tom unlocking the door to you and the man he hated snuggling comfortably up on the couch causing sweat to form on the back of your neck as you pushed Maverick away from you and fixed your fingers through your hair.

“Why not?” You gave him a knowing look that made him sigh. “We can’t hide forever, you know.”

Deciding to ignore his comment, you dragged him outside by the hand, nodding where he’d parked his motorcycle. “Cliff tops,” you silently explained and saw the corners of his lips turn upward as he helped you onto the seat.

It seemed to startle him when you wrapped your arms around his middle, laying your face against the fabric of the leather jacket that covered his back, turning his head ever so slightly to look at you with that charming Maverick smirk of his.

Your heart hammered against your chest as he began driving, hair flying carelessly through the wind, leaning further into him and clutching your intertwined hands firmly against his stomach.

Your brain felt as if it was fogged by the light fragrance he was wearing, head nuzzling on his shoulder now, lips moving dangerously close to his cheek. You let them carefully graze his skin, feeling him shudder — or was it just your mind playing tricks on you?

After having arrived at the tops, Maverick got off his motorcycle, lending you his hand to take as he helped you get off as well, shaky, nervous fingers testing the waters as he gently let them linger around yours, waiting for your hand to pull away. Instead, your knuckles tightened, grasp sinking into his, not daring to look up at him for capturing his reaction.

He sat next to you on the hill, so close that the warmth radiating from his outer thigh gave you goosebumps. You shifted just a little, so that your leg could be touching his, eyes darting down on your lap as you crossed your arms.

“It’s beautiful up here. I like how I can consider it our spot now,” you heard Maverick mutter.

“Our spot?”

His head turned to look at you. “Yeah. Ideally, the first time I would’ve liked to bring you here would be a date, but I can settle for the late sneak-out after your fight with Kazansky.”

Your heart clenched as you hesitantly met his cherishing gaze. You hadn’t wanted anyone like that in really long time and it felt like something was sucking the soul out of you. “Maverick?”

“Hm?”

“When you’re flying, you might lose power. It’s a fatal risk, but it doesn’t stop you from enlisting in the Navy. Flying at up to 700 mph, the smallest mistake can be deadly, your plane could plunge out of the sky, break apart on impact. The cockpit is too small, so you’ll feel like your losing your breath even though you might not have died just yet — and it’s all terrifying and out of control.”

Maverick stared blankly at you, waiting for you to make a point. “What are you trying to say?”

“This is exactly how I feel whenever you look at me,” you finally mustered the courage to confess, seeing your lip starting to quiver. Unsure of how to properly weave the complexity of your feelings, you opted to let your pinky softly wrap around his.

Maverick stared at you, jaw slightly hung, eyes gleaming. “You feel that way about me?”

His question came out so shaky and gentle that it worsened your situation of trying not to break down right there in front of him. “Of course I do. You’re so ridiculously insufferable, I hate you.”

He cocked his head to the side with the tiniest hint of a smirk. “But you love flying.”

“I love flying,” you confirmed, letting the rest of your fingers wrap around his hand as you brought it over to your lap, holding it firmly enough to believe that what was happening in that moment was not just a figment of your imagination.

“I love flying, too.”

With hope written all over your face, your mouth stretched into a grin, holding back a giggle. God, when had you turned fourteen all over again?

Right when you were about to say something, you felt his lips ghost above your forehead before he was leaning down just a bit and kissing the bridge of your nose as tenderly as he could, making you dizzy and unable to think straight. Kiss me, kiss me before I regret it, before I start thinking again. He stalled against you, foreheads now touching as he realized that you hadn’t moved away from him yet.

“Take me to bed or lose me forever.”

“What?”

“It’s what Carole says to Goose. Said. I don’t know if she still tells him that. I never got it, to be honest, but all I know is that I don’t want to lose you, Maverick. Never,” you explained breathily.

“You’re not losing me, not even if you want to,” Maverick chuckled, letting a warm puff hit your already very reddened cheeks. You smiled at him, head now moving forward, so that you could nudge the top of his nose with your own.

“Pete,” you whispered, the words coming out as a ghost tugging at his heart. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, bringing you oh so impossibly close to him that if you squinted hard enough, your lips would be touching. And there it was again; that look he’d been giving you ever since the day you met, lovestruck eyes melting into yours. “Drop looking at me like that, Pete.”

“I can’t,” he spoke, voice weary as if he was on the verge of tears. “You walked in the room the first time Viper came in and the breath was knocked out of my lungs the very same second. So, no, I don’t think I can look at you in a way that’s not giving away how deeply head over heels I—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, stunned by his words. “Don’t continue the sentence, Mav. Don’t continue it, because if you do, I’m going to lose every last ounce of self control I have in my body right now and I should warn you, there’s not much remaining.”

Maverick nodded slowly in acceptance before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, then deciding to be brave, ducking down just the right direction to kiss the corner of your lips. His palms were still holding onto your cheeks, applying more pressure now as he let his mouth linger, heads connecting. You were about to lose it; all the sanity in your system, all the thoughts of do’s and dont’s. With a slight angle twist, he could be kissing you properly, on the lips, but every cell in your body was sweating to prevent that from happening. It was killing you.

“I love flying so much, Roger. So much that I don’t care if it costs me my life, I’m going to keep pursuing breaking the typical rules and fly on my own. It makes me feel alive,” Maverick confessed.

“You should,” you replied breathlessly. “It’ll get you places, Pete. You can hold your own.”

“Take me to bed,” he whispered, loud enough so that you heard him, a small smirk creeping up against the — now flushed from the kiss — corners of your lips.

“Or lose me forever.”

tags:

@holishol

@honeymvnt

[maverickbabes]

Maverick teaching you how to ride his motorcycle

You've always wanted to learn how to ride your husband's motorcycle since he always rode it around and it was fun riding with him.

"Alright my love you ready?" Maverick questions with a hint of worry in his emerald green eyes.

"Yes I am" You said a little too confidently and that made him chuckle.

"Okay so what you're going to do...." He begins explaining how to turn on the bike and how to maneuver/control it.

"I got it, watch" You tell him and revved up the engine before kicking the stand back.

He didn't get the chance to stop you as you accidentally release the start button, causing the bike to move forward at a fast pace.

"Shit!" You cursed and tried to get control of the bike but you ended up catching you foot on the gravel, causing you to topple over and fall.

Pete rushed over to you and lifted the bike off your leg then knelt down to aid your leg.

"I'm fine it's just bruised.. Ow" You grumbled out but winced when he gently touched your calf.

"You either fractured it or sprained it. Worse case scenario is you broke it." Maverick says as he wraps his arms under you and stands up, carrying you bridal style.

"Mav I can walk put me down" You tell him trying to wiggle out of his arms but he just tightens his grip and continues to walk to the house.

He twists the knob then kicks the door open before walking inside and kicking the door shut once more. He sets you down on the couch before kissing your head softly.

"Stay here, let me go get the supplies" He says before heading to your guys shared bedroom to get the supplies as you sit there, mad at yourself and in pain.

He comes back seconds later, arms full of the supplies and you look down at your lap - embarassed with the situation.

"Alright let's get you patched up shall we?" He jokes and begins to tend to your leg.

You didn't even notice you were crying until you felt his thumb gently graze your cheek, wiping your tears.

"What's wrong y/n? did I hurt you?" He questions as he moves closer to you and you shake your head.

"I'm so dumb. I was trying to show you that I could do it and I ended up with a sprained or fractured ankle" You said crying softly and he wraps his arms around you.

After him consoling you, you calmed down and felt better which made him happy.

"Next time, let's not to do something like this again my love" He said chuckling and you smacked him playfully in the chest.

A/N: Yayyyy we have a Maverick headcanon (even though top gun summer is over) hope you enjoy darlings!.More writings are coming soon, I'm kind of getting out of my writer's block :))

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Doc Is In 🩺 | Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell Imagine

Takes place during TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x doctor!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, slight profanity, mentions of medical operations | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 2.7k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @wildellaa 🤍)

Premise: Funny how a routine checkup after a near-death experience can lead to sudden revelations. For the dagger squad, this revelation comes in the news their infamous instructor happens to be quite close to the new base physician…who happens to be a high ranking Air Force personnel.

Note: I’m sorry by how long this took and I apologize if its bad/weak 🥹 I started a new job (my first job every) and it’s been a wild couple weeks but I promise I’m coming back! Also side note- the joke I added about the Air Force Dress Blues is an actual jab the branches use against the Air Force 😂 my mom was in the AF for 24 years and hated the Blues after they changed the uniform.

———————————

“Are you feeling any lightheadedness, nausea, or ringing in your ears?” Nat squinted against the light shining in her eyes, but adjusted before answering.

“No, just a little shaken. That’s all.” She kept her gaze forward as instructed, blinking once the light turned off. A light chuckle left the physician's lips.

“I would expect so after what you just experienced,” her smile was kind, jotting down notes on the pad beside her. “Normal behavior, but if you feel any of the symptoms I just listed at any point let me know. It doesn’t appear you have a concussion but we can never be too careful. And no visible sign of injuries to the chest or torso, indicating you had a more graceful landing than most pilots I see.”

“Is emergency ejections a common occurrence for you, Colonel?”

The woman chuckled, “You’d be surprised. Between the Air Force and Navy, my resume with treating you a lot doesn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon.” She goes to the computer to enter the report, “Most cases involve broken or bruised ribs. But thankfully you appear in good shape. We just wanna watch out for any changes regarding your head.”

Nat nodded, moving to zip up her flight suit while the physician, an Air Force Colonel, the highest ranking for Air Force officers, with the last name L/n-Mitchell, wrote up the report notes on the computer.

Huh, funny how she shared the same last name as her boss.

“Your vitals are normal, no visible external injuries, and no sign of a concussion,” she repeated, fingers typing away, “but again we’ll keep an eye on those. I’ll get you and Lieutenant Floyd checked in for overnight observation—in the meantime is there anyone I can call to bring you anything you might need?”

“No need,” Nat waved a hand, “They’re all out in the lobby waiting for an update.” Rooster had sent her a text saying they had her and Bob’s things from their locker and food from the base Exchange.

Colonel L/n-Mitchell chuckled, “I’ll go grab them for you two.” She goes to the edge of the curtain, speaks to the person on the other side briefly before moving the fabric away to release the divide between the two spaces. When she does so the curtain reveals a pale-faced Bob on the opposite side.

“You good, Floyd?” Nat asks, untying her boots to make herself comfortable since she was to stay the night. Her answer was a groan.

“I might have thrown up a couple times.”

“What’s the diagnosis?”

“Just the case of my stomach being flipped upside down,” Bob leans back until he’s sprawled out on the bed. “I’m surprised I didn’t crap my pants.” Phoenix cringed, but bit back a laugh.

The Colonel placed her pen in her front pocket, smiling at the aviators, “I’ll be right back with your friends. Hang tight.” She opened the front curtain and disappeared, combat boots echoing with each step.

Bob and Nat waited about five minutes tops when she returned with Jake, Bradley, Mickey, Reuben, and Javy. “They’re in one piece,” she teased, moving to the side so they could all greet each other.

“We got your favorite,” Jake lifted a bag from Subway. Pulling out two sandwiches for Nat and Bob. They thanked them and started showing down when the curtain drew back again to reveal Pete.

“Sorry I’m late,” eyes instantly go toward the physician causing a smile to form on his lips. “Well this is a surprise.” Her own smile appeared.

“I told you I was transferring here.” The statement had all eyes, minus Bradley’s go wide. In fact Bradley mirrored Mav’s happy expression. Indicating he had some sort of familiarity to the Colonel.

Pete shocked them even more when he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I was expecting to see you next week,” he lets his eyes wander her uniform clad figure, grinning from ear to ear. She was in her Air Force ABUs, “Did you get in last night?”

“I did. Got settled at tlf, was planning on surprising you tonight but it looks like fate had other ideas,” she giggled, accepting his kiss causing gasps to ring out. “I take it this bunch belongs to you?”

“Hold the phone,” Javy said what everyone was thinking. He pointed at Mav, “You,” then pivoted to the woman, “And you are….”

She finished for him, “married.”

“Married!”

“I missed some chapters.”

“You never said you were married,” Phoenix stated, not seeing a wedding ring on either of their hands. It was common for military personnel to not wear rings due to their jobs, but surely Maverick would’ve mentioned in passing.

“I thought you guys knew.”

Javy scoffed, “We sure did not. Let alone to the base physician.”

“New base physician,” she corrected, “I just transferred here so really no one would have known. Although,” she turns to Bradley, “I thought you would’ve said something, Bradley.” The pilot just shrugged and mumbled how his thoughts were occupied with Nat and Bob. “Anyway, it is nice to meet you all. Sorry we had to become acquainted in these circumstances.”

The pilots were flabbergasted. First to find out that their instructor was married, and second to discover it was to a full bird Colonel.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Colonel,” Jake began, not used to addressing Air Force personnel. The Navy’s equivalent to a full bird colonel was Captain. Which happened to be her husband's rank. And generally when licensed physicians enter the Air Force they’re automatically ranked Captain or Major. So it made him wonder how long Pete’s wife had been in the Air Force to reach the rank of Colonel. “But where were you before coming to Miramar?”

“Vandenberg.” Ah, the Air Force Base up north in central California. One of the largest bases in the country and satellite home of both NASA and SpaceX.

Not to mention in the last two decades it had several shark attacks on its beaches.

The next hour consisted of the squad asking the couple several questions including the typical, “how long have you two been together?” “Have you always been in the Air Force?” And “Why haven’t you mentioned you were married, Captain?”

“Again, I thought you knew,” Mav reinstated, slightly flustered from the knowing look he received from his wife.

“We’ve been married ten years,” Y/n explained with a smile. “Though we’d been friends for some time. So…” she brought a finger to her lips, “I wanna say it was 2004 when we met for the first time. I had just commissioned.”

“What did you come in as?”

“Captain,” she answered Payback, “well, Lieutenant in your case.”

“And how long have you been a full bird, ma’am,” Mickey’s eyes were full of curiosity. He thought it was so cool his instructor was the highest officer rank for the Navy and married to the highest officer rank of the Air Force.

“About three years,” her face was full of pride, as was Mav’s. “And to answer your question from earlier; no, I hadn’t joined until after six years of being a civilian practitioner following my residency.” If they were to do the math, it would put Y/n at graduating from both high school, college, and med school one year early.

Oh she was smart smart.

One could guess by the John Hopkins and Duke University class rings on her fingers.

“I gotta ask,” Mickey looked between the two, grin already forming. “Do you ever have rivalry?”

“You mean because of Air Force vs Navy?” Y/n laughed. “Of course we do. Especially during college football season.” Pete laughed with her.

“You’re outnumbered here, darling.”

She playfully scoffed, “It’s only fair since you were back in Lompoc.” Turning to the pilots who were holding back smiles she added, “fifteen years and things don’t seem to change. I hope,” she motions a hand between them, “we can find some civility. All things considered.” Of course it was a joke, the branch rivalry and all that. But Y/n loved a good friendly bicker and the squad seemed to also.

“Just don’t wear your Blues around here,” Javy started, “unless you wanna be called a flight attendant.” The entire room erupted in laughter, Y/n pointing a finger as if to say, ‘Good one.’ She hated how the Air Force Dress Blues looked. It was the running joke between the branches and she couldn’t blame it.

Every time she had to wear them when flying she was stopped by people asking where to find their gate.

Hangman let out a whistle after they all calmed down. “When I woke up this morning I didn’t expect It end with meeting Mrs. Mitchell?” The couple shared a look, a smile on Y/n’s face.

“I prefer Doctor Mitchell.”

Pete went into detail of how the two met—which had Nat snapping her head to Y/n only to receive a wink.

No wonder she mentioned chest injuries as a theme when dealing with pilots.

It was a stellar retelling of how the man decided to defy yet another Admiral resulting in him ejecting from a high speed plane over a mountain range. Y/n had recently commissioned and was sent to Langley Air Force Base in Virginia, but was TDY to Oceana Naval Base for a seminar. Seeing she was the most qualified and only personnel available at the time, she was to conduct Pete’s medical examination.

“So,” she mused at the name on the clipboard, not bothering to pay him a glance as he sat on the bed. “You’re the infamous Pete Mitchell everyone has been buzzing about.” Beelining to the computer, Y/n heard a deep chuckle.

“Guilty.”

The response led to a roll of the eyes, focusing on the screen in front of her, “Are you experiencing any nausea, dizziness, lightness of the head?”

“No.”

“Ringing in the ears, distortion of the eyesight, or pain in any area?”

“No, ma’am.”

The clicking of the mouse rang with each check off the electronic list, “It says you made physical contact with the ground when you landed. Are you feeling any discomfort in your chest or abdomen?”

Pete shook his head despite her not looking at him, “just a little soreness and a bruised ego. But other than that I’m good.” Biting back a grin, Y/n grabbed the stethoscope and began to turn.

“Well we can't be too careful now can we?” Upon settling her gaze on Pete Mitchell, Y/n felt an instant ‘Woah’ to her otherwise relaxed composure. Freezing for a bare second as their eyes locked before remembering where she was, stepping to his side to begin her evaluation.

Only her heart was beating a little faster than the average rate.

The nurse had already taken Pete’s vitals. Blood pressure, temperature, and all that. Now it was time for Y/n to conduct a more thorough scan.

“Deep breath for me, please,” were her instructions, the scope on his back, “And tell me if you feel any pain.”

Pete, hoping the skip in his own heart goes unnoticed by the doctor, does as he’s told. A slight wince causes her brows to raise in concern, “Commander?”

He clears his throat, “Yes, sorry. I feel a little tense.” She steps away from him, asking to point out the area. She places the scope lightly where he locates the discomfort.

“Deep breath, slow this time,” leaning in, Y/n pays close attention to the sound thumping against her ears. “Inhale.” Pete draws in a breath. “And exhale,” he winces again. Removing the stethoscope, the Captain instructed him to lean back until he was laying down.

“Would you mind unzipping your flight suit, Commander Mitchell?” Pete was left in his undershirt, suit unzipped to his hips allowing Y/n to lift the material to assess his chest. She was trying not to look flustered at her obvious attraction to the man. He had to have been nearly ten years older than her, probably in his 40s to her mid thirties.

Still, he was quite the looker. And without a ring on his finger.

The light purplish-yellow swelling on Pete’s torso was an indication he sustained more than just a damaged ego. “By my accounts, Commander, it appears you have acquired at least one if not two bruised ribs,” she lifts his shirt back down, helping him sit up, “I’m impressed you’ve managed to hide the pain you’re experiencing.”

Pete flushed, “I’m used to it. Feels no more than a tickle nowadays.” Y/n snickers, returning to the computer to log the report, “Well you certainly live up to your reputation.”

“I try to,” Pete winked, sending a ripple of warmth through Y/n. Quickly she shook it off to remain professional.

“I’m putting you on bed rest for at least three weeks. Considering this isn’t your first rodeo, I assume you know it takes three to six weeks for bruised ribs to heal completely before going about any physical activities.” Taking a pad to write down his prescription, Y/n continued, “over the counter ibuprofen works fine, but I’m gonna go ahead and prescribe you with Naproxen which is basically Aleve. Cold compress for ten to twenty minutes each day and I would recommend you coming back to the physician on duty for a green light before getting back in the box, Commander.”

Pete makes a face, tilting his head slightly, “You won’t be giving me the green light,” eyes flicker to the ranks on her collar, realizing they were indeed Air Force and not Navy ranks, “Captain?”

His question has her smile, albeit sadly, “Unfortunately I will be back at Langley, Commander. I only assessed you because everyone else on duty was occupied.”

Well that instantly had Mav deflate, stomach sinking at the thought of not being able to see her beautiful face again. Already the pilot was becoming smitten. He wanted to learn more about Y/n, like her career and the things that make her laugh and smile. The type of food she ordered and what she envisioned her life would be like.

“How long are you in town?” He couldn’t help but ask. It made her lips curl up.

“Till Sunday.” It happened to be Wednesday. Allowing the two half of week to allow the sparks starting to form to ignite into fireworks.

One can best believe Mav and Y/n took the opportunity once it was in their grasp. It started with lunch on Thursday to dinner on Friday and a late night drink at the bar on Saturday. By Sunday Y/n left with a light heaviness to her chest that was amended with the fact Pete’s number was in her phone and they had made plans to meet again. Langley and Oceania were not far in distance, so there was hope for the two.

And it was very well received.

The next five years were endless bliss. They had done the distance back and forth for some time and were lucky when they got duty stations near each other, but it wouldn’t be until they married that the Air Force and Navy would station them together or within the same state.

With Y/n as a licensed physician she could be sent to any base, be that Air Force, Navy, or Army. Working through the ranks at an impressive rate. Every base wanted her at their clinic then of course local hospitals were fighting to get her on their board. Then there was Mav as the Navy’s best fighter pilot with a reputation they both loath and admire. Sometimes they were at a base for six months to a year. Other times they didn’t even unpack the boxes.

Let’s just say….Pete lost count of the amount of disapproving looks when he fucked up.

“Seriously, Pete? Again?” Her eyes remained on the paperwork in front of her, arms crossed across her chest while her boyfriend pouted on the opposite side of the table. “We haven’t even been here for a year.”

“I know, but……” he paused, unsure if he would make it worse with his defense. “You did say you hated it here and wish to be reassigned.” He was met with a groan.

“That didn’t mean I gave you the green light to piss off your boss! Again!”

On their five year anniversary, Mav made sure it was one to remember. Following a long day at work all he said to Y/n was to change and met him in the car. Overlooking his typical Levis and white tee, she asked, “Any particular way I should dress?”

“Cute and cozy,” he kissed her cheek, “just like you love.”

Say less. Throwing off her Abu’s Y/n put on a sweater dress since it was chilly and simple shoes. Finishing off the look with one of Pete’s bomber jackets knowing he loved when she wore them. Evident by the smirk on his lips.

Driving down to their fav outdoor bar and grill they ordered appetizers and drinks while enjoying the live music and setting sun. Afterwards he took her to one of their favorite spots in the park. It was filled with lights and fountains, stars twirling from the sky above.

When it came time to present Y/n with the ring, Mav took her hands in his, got down on one knee and relayed a speech straight from his heart that brought tears to both their eyes.

“What do you say, Mrs. Mitchell?” He ended with a cheeky smile, the diamond ring sparkling from within its velvet boxed.

Teary eyed and grinning from ear to ear, Y/n leaned down to kiss him on the lips. “I prefer Doctor Mitchell.”

………………

Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry , @luckyladycreator2 , @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black , @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris

[topgun-imagines]

Day 14: I Remember Everything

Pairings: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x fem!reader

Synopsis: Both you and Maverick are struggling with the loss of Goose. Based on the Zach Bryan And Kacey Musgraves song ‘I Remember Everything’.

Warnings: Alcoholism, death, tears, bad coping mechanisms, break-ups & feeling of abandonment.

Word count: 1.2k

Ever since your boys went off to Top Gun, you couldn’t wait to see them. So, when family week rolled around, you, along with Carole and Bradley, boarded the plane together. Carole was ecstatic to have her sister-in-law joining her on the flight. It gave her someone to watch Bradley while she snuck in a few hours of shut-eye. You couldn’t wait to see your big brother. However, Goose wasn’t the only one you were excited to see. For the past three years, you and Maverick had been dating.

Throughout their time in Fighter Town, you had heard all about your boyfriend’s rivalry with Iceman. You remembered him from Goose’s time at the academy. You found that he was a lovely person. So lovely, in fact, that you went out with him for the entire time Goose was at the academy. You wouldn’t put his competitive side past him. Even if Maverick was stretching the truth just a little bit. You never imagined that the competition between them would escalate to where it was now. As far as you had been told, it was a healthy, safe competition. Now, however, you wanted to smack both Iceman and your boyfriend upside the head.

Your older brother was the most important person in your life. He had practically raised you. You could vividly remember crying for weeks when he left home for the academy. When Maverick and Goose had first been paired together, you had sat the rebellious pilot down and told him that while Goose trusted him, you weren’t so convinced. In that moment, Maverick promised you that your brother would always return safely to his family. Three months later, Mav took you out on your first date.

Maverick had quickly gained your trust. You soon came to learn that you and your brother were the only family that he had. That only helped to prove the fact that Maverick would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat for either of you. For that, you were immensely grateful.

Given their job, you understood that there was a large risk factor. However, you knew how good of a pilot your boyfriend was. If he had any control over the situation, everything would turn out okay. Even though you trusted him, you knew that sometimes, he didn’t trust himself. When he was up in the air, it was like he was flying against a ghost. You knew exactly whose ghost that was.

Mav had always thought that he was a disappointment, purely because he was his father's son. He had always been told that he would never amount to anything, all because of his last name. You saw how hard he worked to prove them wrong. That was one of the things you loved about him. No matter how many times he got pushed down, he always got back up.

This time, however, was shaping up to be very different than the others. This time, there was no going back.

Before they left for Top Gun, you had told Maverick about your ex. After all, you were pretty sure that he would be there as well. Oh, how right you were. It was just your luck that the two of them would end up going head-to-head for first place. At the beginning, you were thrilled with the idea of Mav and Goose getting to go to Top Gun. Now, you would give anything to keep them from ever getting a chance.

Only a few days after you had arrived for family week, there was a tragic accident. Maverick and Ice were tied for first and you knew that both of them would do whatever they could to win. What you didn’t know was that ‘whatever they could’ would come with a grave cost.

When you had first heard the news, you collapsed. You had lost your brother. The one piece of your family you had left and he was gone. Unsurprisingly, Maverick had turned into a mess. Goose was like the brother that he never had. Regardless of whose fault it was technically, Maverick would never stop blaming himself. Needless to say, Mav wasn’t handling the situation very well. Even Carole seemed to be having a better time coping with the tragic loss of her husband.

While a large part of you felt so sorry for your boyfriend, the other part wished he would open his eyes. He wasn’t the only person that lost somebody. But he was sure acting like he was. Carole had lost a husband. Bradley had lost a father. You had lost a brother. And yet none of that seemed to matter to your grieving boyfriend. To him, he was the only person that lost Goose. He began drinking his troubles away, not a single thought as to what all of this was doing to you.

Now, you were sobbing in the bedroom you shared with Maverick. He hadn’t been at the past few days of training, spending all of his time in the bar. With your boyfriend off god-knows-where, you couldn’t help but miss everything that the two of you used to have. Late nights spent cuddled up on that old ratty couch, Mav whispering sweet nothings in your ear the whole time flooded your mind as you continued to sob.

Goose wasn’t just your boyfriend, he was your best friend. A few days after the accident, the pain had worn off. Now, all you felt was numb. While Maverick had drinking, you had nothing. You had nothing to make that feeling go away. Through your tears, you finally came to a horrible realization. Your loving boyfriend was gone. He died in the same accident that your brother did.

You couldn’t stay with him anymore. Not if it was going to be like this. Was Maverick hurting? Of course he was. But were you also hurting? Yes. In the aftermath of the accident, you had assured Maverick again and again that you were there for him. That you would be the shoulder he could lean on should he need somebody. Instead, he had turned to drinking, leaving you with no shoulder at all.

Sniffling, you wiped your nose on the back of your hand and stood up from the bed on shaky legs. You hadn’t left the bed all day. Picking up the phone, you tried to call the bar where you figured Maverick was. When the bartender picked up and tried to hand the phone to Mav, your boyfriend refused to talk to you. The phone dropped out of your hand as you stared straight ahead. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Numbly, you began packing your bags. You had very few clothes, but you threw all of them into a bag with little to no order. Soon enough, your bags were packed and you were slamming the door of Maverick’s base housing. Time seemed to fly as you called a taxi to the airport and bought a ticket home. Sure, Carole and Bradley were still here, but you had no reason to stay. You would have loved to stay for Maverick’s graduation. However, you just couldn’t bring yourself to wait around for someone that was long gone.

a/n: thank you for reading! Join the taglist!

Tagging: @ohtobeleah @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @els-marvelvsp @kmc1989 @nyx2021 @mploopssek @callsignharper @seitmai @scarletmeii @inkandarsenic

[crazyk-imagine]

Hotel: Spin Off

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Fem!reader

Characters: Fem!reader, Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood, Carole Bradshaw, Bradley Bradshaw, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw, Ron "Slider" Kerner, Leonard "Wolfman" Wolfe (Henry "Wolfman" Ruth)

Warnings: Crack, apart of the crack au, the boys are in left field, no one knows how to protect themselves from the supernatural, this has been in my docs for a bit and finally found the words to finish it, chaotic goose and maverick, we love these crackheads as crackheads, am I posting this before work? Yes

Word Count: 735

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

You, Charlotte, and Carole weren't expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen today; it's Tuesday, a plain old Tuesday but- of course, Charlotte spoke too soon.

You walk out of the living room to work on getting started with dinner while Carole and Bradley work on getting the tv set up leaving Charlotte to quickly clean up the toys (since she's the one who brought them out [wanting to teach the youngest Bradshaw a life lesson]).

You brought up the idea of watching movies while you all wait for the guys to come home.

Her phone rings, her ringtone "great balls of fire", echoes throughout the living room, letting you all know it's her hubby calling.

You enter the kitchen in time to hear her tell Nick, "don't come home-"

You hear the instructor's laughter as you walk past the wall, unable to hear anything else; part of you can't help but wonder what she's talking about since they haven't had any issues lately.

You and Charlotte are the first and only ones she talks to if she needs advice, whether it be because of a relationship issue or how to make her hair look more fluffy and less messy, which is how lots of your conversations go.

-

Charlotte wanders around the kitchen making drinks (feeling you girls deserve them) while you work on the food, something you already planned on doing and not just because they all love your food.

You're in the cooking zone by the time you realize your phone is ringing) and not just because the blonde taps your shoulder, informing you otherwise.

You nod and walk towards the dining table to grab the hand towel, so you can wipe your hands and get rid of the vegetable juice to answer the phone.

You pick it up and hold it to your ear and resume chopping. You tap the speaker button and leave the phone close to you "Mav?"

"Who else would be calling you?"

The blonde chuckles.

"I don't know, a murderer."

The blonde behind you scoffs at the two of you.

"I want to murder that-" A scream cuts him off. "I hate them. I really do," he mumbles.

"Who the hell are you talking about, Pete?" You ask with amusement present in your tone. You pause, listening to the background noises, "Why does it sound like you're at a sketchy motel?"

"He's where?" She mutters, coming closer behind you so she can listen in.

He sighs, knowing he can't hide anything from you (or your extra set of ears). "We are."

"What the hell happened while I was at work?"

"You mean other than the fact that I'm dealing with idiots, not much."

You chuckle, swiping the chopped veggies into the pot on the stove. "Are you going to be home for dinner?"

He blows out a puff of air. "I don't know."

You purse your lips, knowing how idiotic the crew can be and can't entirely blame him for coming home late. "Be sure to call me when you know more."

"Trust me I-"

"Mayday, Mav, mayday! Wolf's pulling out the salt." There's a brief pause, "on the bright side, Slider's met his future wife."

He groans, "Jesus, I'm gonna go before they burn the place down."

You open your phone and check the post Carole sent you. "Hey Mav?"

"Yeah?"

"What the hell were you guys doing with a ouija board?" You can sense the cogs in his mind turning as he tries to come up with a lie.

"Just- I'll be home soon. This is connected to anything that's happened, we paid the electrical bill on the beach house, right?"

You glance at Charlotte. "We did."

She leans in, "if anything sounds sketchy, hangup."

"So now?" You roll your eyes. "Mav, don't stay out late. We paid the bill and don't wind up in the hospital this time, okay?"

"I make no promises," Nick shouts into the phone. "Let me speak to my, lady love. I need to say some things before I meet my maker."

"No, bye," she hangs up the phone.

"Char!"

"What? He was going on and on for so long."

"That doesn't mean you hang up on him."

She shrugs, "oh well." She walks back into the living room. "Care, your husband's going to come home possessed."

You hear her laughter from the living room and poor Bradley being confused.

-

Continue to the series - Top Gun: Crack

-

Tag List

@kmc1989 @blueoorchid

[jackiequick]

Welcome to our lives, princess | Top Gun Maverick Fic 🧸

Top Gun AU series ✈️

Setting: After Top Gun, Pre-Top Gun Maverick

Summary: Pete Mitchell and his friends Tom Kazansky and Audrey Davidson didn’t expect in 1987 to be greeted warmly with a knock on his door at 4 in the morning by a social worker carrying a small bundle of joy and paperwork. In her arms, held the one and only daughter of Maverick Mitchell.

—

The night was dead silent, having just arrived the last 24 hours before from a 4 week long deployment. The statement of the household wasn’t nothing grand but it was home, no one cared. Tom was dead asleep soundly in his bedroom, when the barking sound of the doorbell woke it him up. He wasn’t sure it was their drunk friends or some idiot freshman playing ding dong ditch on them again, either way he rolled out of bed slipping on a navy blue t-shirt and headed downstairs.

The moment he opened the door, he was greeted by a middle aged woman wearing glasses and a pencil skirt, with a very tight ponytail. She was holding a dark gray carrier but Tom wasn’t given a chance to full process the image in front of him. “Are you Mr. Peter Mitchell?” She asked, fixing her weight.

Tom furrowed his eyebrows and blinked a few times, “I’m sorry, who are you ma’am?”

“I’m Linda Colins. A social worker for California state, are you Mr. Mitchell, sir?”

“Ah um, no he’s upstairs asleep. He’s my roommate. I’ll get him for you.”

Tom lead the woman into the living room, watching her put the dark gray carrier carefully on coffee table. Once she did so, due to the fact of better lighting from the lamps, Tom was able to finally get a better view of the image in front of him. Inside the carrier held a small baby girl with some dark brown hair sticking up nicely and her skin was a light palette of oli tones. It matched his wingman perfectly, that was Pete’s daughter. He knew he had to call Audrey as soon as possible but first he had to get this gorgeous little girl’s daddy.

Iceman ran upstairs into Pete’s bedroom, quietly but quickly. He seemed so peaceful in his sleep, when Maverick wasn’t being chaotically charming, he was simply darling. Iceman rubbed his shoulder and whisper, “Mav, buddy wake up.” No response only a annoyed groan from his wingman, Iceman rolled his eyes and shock him again saying, “Maverick wake up. You can sleep later!”

Finally Pete Mitchell shot up from his bed grunting from being waken up at 4 in the god damn morning. He sent a sleepily glare to Ice and whisper yelling, “What the hell, Kazansky?!”

“You’ll see. Oh, before we go downstairs remember, your my great friend and I’ll love you all the same doesn’t matter your decision.”

“Okay? You’re being honest and weirdly confusing at the same time.”

Maverick followed his friend downstairs in utter confusion and still pissed off for being waken up this early in the morning. He rubbed his eyes a couple of time until he reached the living room, seeing the sight in front of him. The middle aged woman and the baby girl in the carrier. Pete Mitchell was spooked. He was speechless, he couldn’t speak, only listen to the lady speaking.

“Are you Pete Mitchell?” Said the social worker, holding a file.

Tom answered for him, “Yes he is.”

“Good. I’m going to cut to the chase, you are this little girl’s father. Can you confirm or deny this?”

“Who’s the mother?” Asked Tom once again, his eyes stayed on his friend who’s eyes were trained on the little girl in the carrier.

“Melissa Oxford.”

Pete snapped from his gazed taking a sharp breath and spoke, “Lissa? I um..yeah we met and dated a while back, nothing serious, i went to see her again months before deployment..she was gone, moved back to Indiana to get a job in her home town…or that’s at least what the neighbors told me…”

—-

Truth be told, Maverick wasn’t sure what happened to the woman, but he cared about the ladies he would spent time with even if it was only for a few weeks. Truly his heart belonged to Penny Benjamin but he knew he sadly couldn’t have her, due her father not liking him very much and the life that he tried his hardest lived. Iceman can see the gears and sadness pooling in his friends eyes, knowing he would’ve liked to know sooner and at a better time that his child existed.

The social worker, Linda, spoke again, “Yeah she was pregnant at the time and gave birth to your daughter. Sadly she died due to complications after the birth but said that if anyone deserved to take care of the kid, it should be her father.”

“And?” Pete asked, since he knew there was always a catch to theses things.

“She told the nurses, for me to tell you, that if you don’t want her she can be put up for adoption.”

Pete was frozen hearing all of this and trying to take in all it, he hasn’t even held his daughter yet but he’s being given all of theses information. It made him feel sick, he moved out of the spot he was placed in, moving over to the coffee table. He heard the social worker, Linda, speaking once again but he ignored her as Iceman decided to have a conversation with the woman instead. Tom wanted to give Maverick a clear solid moment with his daughter for himself.

Once Pete reached the coffee table, he pulled back the cover that mostly tried to shield the baby’s face from the light. Peeling over the straps that held the carrier together, he was finally able to take her in. He was met with a half sleep baby girl who yawn as her eyes fluttered gently as if trying to greet her daddy. Maverick can see the similarities between them.

Her color palette of soft oil skin, curled little nose that remind him of his baby pictures, and tucks of curly dark hair that sticked up ever so sweetly. Mostly her eyes said it all, they were a light shade of green that would grow to match his dark green ones. Maverick gently reached forward using the back of his pointing finger to gently and ever so softly run across her round cubby cheeks. Pete smiled as tears slowly appeared, he knew that this was his daughter, pride and joy. His little princess.

“..hi, baby girl. I’m your daddy..” Pete said, carefully taking her out of the carrier realizing that she must’ve been only 4-5 months at least, or he could be wrong. He heard her slight whimpers that soon hushed down once she safely curled in his arms. Her tiny face nuzzled into the crook of his shirt, near his neck as Maverick coo, “..aww sweetheart. I’m right here..don’t worry.”

It was a new kind of love that Maverick felt at the moment, he knew he would get disagreements from his friends about raising her but he didn’t care at the time. He fluttered small kisses onto her forehead and he could’ve swore he saw a tiny smile. He glances at a open file next to the carrier and the only thing that popped out was her last name. ‘Mitchell’ . Pete looked down at her and whispered, “You don’t got a first name, do you? That’s not right, sweetheart.”

He thought for a moment, trying to think of a few classic names for this little girl in his arms. His thoughts were interrupted when Tom came back in the room, taking a seat behind him, his eyes were trained on his friend and new found niece. It was the most adorable sight Iceman has ever seen in the years he’s seen Maverick. Yeah sure he seen Mav and little Bradley Bradshaw together but this was completely different from that. He rest his hand on his shoulder, leaning in to see the baby’s face. She was simply gorgeous.

“Hi princess, I’m your uncle Ice..” Tom said with a smile on his face, “..what we gonna name you?…you like a Penelope or a Nicole.”

Pete chuckled, shifting his quiet little girl who softly babbled in his arms. Mav thought for a moment, “…maybe Jennifer..Jenny?”

“Jenny? I like Penelope and Nicole better.”

“Jennifer P. Mitchell.”

Iceman smiled letting out a small joke, “I like it. But if you have another little girl who appears on our doorstep tomorrow, we’re naming her Nicole.”

“I doubt it, Ice. She’s the only baby girl in the world for this Naval family. Isn’t that right, Princess Jenny?” Maverick smiled, lifting her up as he stayed kissing her cubby cheek.

“She’s got you wrapped around your finger, Mav.”

“Just wait until you hold her, then she’ll be wrapped around your finger too.”

—

Later on the Linda returned from the kitchen after letting the roommate have a moment with the child, Maverick agreed signing the paperwork with Iceman who agreed to be this little girl’s uncle automatically. Linda Colins left both men with a baby bag and returned home at 5:45am.

Iceman and Maverick stayed up for an extra hour feeding, changing her diaper and putting sleep. Neither one of them really slept that night, taking in all the information and making room for the new attention to the house. Appears that baby Jen was a night owl, because the girl was a tricky one to get to sleep until Ice took it upon himself to sing a lullaby while Maverick took a small nap.

By the morning, 11:25am, the guys called up Slider, Carole and Audrey to tell them about the news. Slider decided to visit later that week, Carole was busy out of town with Bradley, meanwhile Audrey skipped work shortly after hearing the news and drive pasting a few red lights to the Kazansky-Mitchell household. She knocked on the door unable to believe the news until she saw it herself, believing it was kinda prank or that they stole a baby.

Audrey forgot she got keys to this house and once the door open her jaw dropped, having to pick it off the floor. A shocked chuckle escaped her lips at the sight of Iceman burping a adorable baby girl who babbled happily as if she was the princess of sun. The baby girl glowed a breathtaking smile and soft giggle utter under her breath, like she was speaking to Tom.

Maverick come out of the bathroom drying his hands after peeling on a clean burgundy t-shirt while wearing a pair of gray sweatpants smiling, “Hey Mama!”

Audrey snapped out of her trancelike state shaking her head and smiled sheepishly. “Hey—hi! So it’s true, huh? You didn’t steal her?” Audrey said, with a sunny smile taking a step over to her friends watching Maverick take the baby girl out from Ice’s arms.

“Nope. She’s mine and her name is Jenny. Jen, sweetheart, this is your Auntie Sunny! She will try to keep you out of a trouble when your toddler years arrive soon.”

“She’s adorable. Definitely your daughter, she has your eyes, c-can i?”

Maverick was more than happy, he gently set the baby in her auntie’s arms with such joy. Once the shock wiped away from her body, the love and laughter reached Sunset quicker than she imagined, little Jennifer Mitchell shined like the morning skies and babbled softly in her arms. She bounced her a bit as a small laughter escaped from Jenny’s body loving the attention and pure joy surrounding her. The baby girl was comfortable in all 3 of the adults arms, even she only spend half a day with them.

Maverick pulled out his camera snapping a couple of pictures of his daughter and her auntie, a few pictures were already taken of the small family. Pete Mitchell was already planning on buying a baby book this weekend and possibly tricky Slider into giving them a huge baby shower for they don’t have to buy too many stuff. To say Pete Maverick Mitchell was overwhelmed and overjoyed with this new found journey of fatherhood was something he couldn’t describe, especially knowing he had Audrey and Tom there every step of the way.

Thank you for reading this fic and hope you stick around for both in the future! Can’t wait to see your reactions to this haha

Fic tags: @topgun-imagines @mandylove1000 @gaminggirlsstuff @t-nd-rfoot @rooster-84 @theloveoftoms @hangmanbrainrot @msrochelleromanofffelton @hanlueluver @starkleila @gcthvile and etc.

[h-c-u]

The kids are alright pt 3

Summary: You go into labor two weeks before the due date, while Ice is giving an interview on the live TV

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x reader

W/C: 4k

Rating: PG

TWs: Labor and all stuff that comes with it.

A/N: Sooo.... The baby is here :) And this chapter was inspired by that interrupted interview with prince Harry, when he was still in the military Also - someone asked me why I wasn't calling Bradley "Rooster", so I might address it here as well - it's because in this universe, he's not a pilot, so he didn't get that callsign yet :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist | List of tags | Part 4

- Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! - you almost fell over when you felt a contraction. At first, you thought that it was Braxton-Hicks, but they were getting stronger and stronger over the last hour... Or was it even more...? 

You were home alone, so the situation was less than ideal, but you didn't want to worry Ice, just in case it was nothing, because you knew he was doing an interview today. You also didn't want to call for an ambulance, because you felt like it would be an overshoot, and you definitely couldn't drive alone.

Another contraction came and you had to hold a kitchen counter as hard as you possibly could if you didn't want to fall.

- SHIT. FUCK. - weirdly, swearing helped a little, but when the pain retreated for a moment, you quickly dialed Bradley, because you knew that he had a day off. Since the memorable dinner, you two became much closer, and you treated him now as if he was your younger brother. That's why you sighed with relief when he finally answered. - Where are you...? - you were out of breath and he immediately realized that something was wrong.

- I'm actually on my way to you, I'll be there in like two minutes.

- Oh thank gods... You'll have to take me to the hospital, so don't even bother coming in. I'll be waiting outside... - you've said. Bag. There was an emergency bag prepared just for this occasion and you took it with you.

- Is everything ok? - you only groaned in response, because another contraction came.

- I'm... I think the labor started. - you've said through gritted teeth.

- Oh shit, it's early! - he sounded a bit panicked. - I'm pulling in... - he said when you were locking the door behind you. - I'm here, I'm here! - he run out of the car and was near you in less than a second, taking the bag from you, and offering you his arm, so the walk to the car would be easier. - How do you feel? - you only shot daggers from your eyes at him in response. - Not talkative today, got it. - he helped you get into the front seat and pushed it as far back as he could, while you disconnected the call between you two, and immediately called 911. - What are you...? - another killer look from you shut him up really quickly.

- Hello, My name is y/n Kazansky and I'm in labor. I will be in a blue Ford Bronco riding to St. Barts from the south, most likely over the speed limit. I don't know the exact route, but I would really appreciate not being... FFFFFFUUUUCKKKKKKKK!!!!! - you screamed while Bradley started the car and pulled out of your driveway. - Sorry about that. Contraction. I know it's not conventional, but we would really appreciate not being stopped or chased. - you saw the surprise on your temporary driver's face when he immediately started speeding up.

- I don't have any patrols in the area, but I'll relay the message. Wait... There is a firetruck coming down from the highway, I can ask them to escort you to the hospital. - the lady on the other end of the call was extremely helpful already.

- Yes! Thank you very much! - you tried to breathe as calmly as possible and not push yet, considering that your water didn't break.

- I will also let St. Barts know that you'll be coming, so the team will be ready for you. How far apart are your contractions? - she was surprisingly calm, but that must have come with the job; after all you couldn't just lose your temper answering the emergency calls.

- You're an angel. They started maybe two hours ago and are now 4-5 minutes apart. - you sighed with relief, while Bradley swirled harshly to the left.

- Just here to help, ma'am. Can you tell me how dilated you are?

- I can't exactly see and I'm not gonna ask the driver to look under my dress now... I'd rather just get there as soon as possible. I see the firetruck! - you exclaimed happily.

- That's good, I just got the confirmation that they noticed you too, so it shouldn't be too long until you'll be with your doctors. - she remained calm till the end.

- Thank you so much, really. I'm gonna hang up now because I have to call my husband and tell him what's going on. Thank you again.

- Happy to help, ma'am. Good luck! - you laughed in response and finally ended the call when the firetruck in front of you turned it's sirens on.

- I didn't know you could do that with emergency numbers... - Bradley mumbled under his breath, still in panic mode. - But good thinking! - you could only grab something and scream because another contraction came and almost knocked you out. - I'm so glad I won't have to give birth... - he realized what he said as soon as the words left his mouth. - No, no, no, no! I didn't mean it like that! I'll shut up now! - if looks could kill, you'd be currently in a car accident, because Bradley would have died behind the wheel.

You finally collected yourself enough to dial your husband's number and put your phone on speaker. And there was signal after signal; he wasn't answering. So you tried again. And again. Until you arrived at the hospital. Bradley jumped out of the car and helped moved you to a wheelchair, while your oby-gyn was checking how dilated you were.

- Thank you, guys! - you shouted at the firemen, who helped you get to the hospital in record time. Some of them waved at you, and a few gave you thumbs-up. - Hi doctor Montgomery! - you said when her hands were finally away from your... nether regions.

- Hi, y/n... I guess we're doing this early. Is Tom coming in? - she gave you a soft smile and took the latex glove off, while a nurse started wheeling you into the building.

- Bradley, grab my bag when you'll park the car! I'm in good hands! - you shouted behind you. Everything was happening so quickly that you had trouble processing what exactly was happening. - Honestly, doc... I don't know. He's doing... WAIT! - the nurse stopped immediately, and your doctor looked at you confused as you dialed another number on your phone. Someone crazy and maniacal enough to actually do what you'll ask. In the meantime, you pointed at the television in the waiting room, where your husband was currently speaking about the latest navy investment, 16 new choppers.

- MAV! You have no idea how happy I am you answered. How far you're from Tommy? - you asked; the nurse wanted to start moving again, but you swatted at his hand.

- I'm right there, why?

- Give him your fucking phone. Now.

- Now? He's on live TV... - he said cautiously.

- I know, I can see that. Do you honestly think that I would have asked if it wasn't imfuckING SHIT.... - another contraction came, and you felt your water finally breaking. Doctor Montgomery dove under your dress once again.

- Y/n, we have to move to a birthing room, you're 6cm dilated! - her voice told you there was no room for a discussion, and yet you still tried.

- One sec, doc! I promise! I'll be good, just let me tell him I'm in labor. - you saw Maverick showing up on the TV, whispering something in Tom's ear, away from the camera, and passing him the phone. - Tom! You got to come to St. Barts now if you don't want to miss the birth of our daughter. - you could see his face dropping on TV.

- Are you...? - he stuttered a bit, but you couldn't even savor this moment of him not being fully composed.

- I'm fine, Bradley drove me, my water broke, I'm 6cm dilated, and it's happening. Like right now. Little Ms. Kazansky decided to follow her dad's mantra that being early is on time, and on time is late. So get your ass here as soon as possible. - you were speaking faster than you thought possible, and yet he didn't have trouble understanding you.

- I apologize, there is an emergency. - you heard on the phone, and his lips followed with a slight delay on TV. You saw him taking off the mic, grabbing Mav by the elbow, and running toward the newest investment. You managed to catch the last sight of them actually entering one of the choppers before the view changed to someone in the studio. - I'll be there. - he said. - And now be good to doctor Montgomery. - you only laughed in response. - I'm hanging up now, because we're getting up in the air. I love you. - you couldn't help but smile.

- I love you too! - and now officially you could focus only on your labor. - You saw that dr. Montgomery? - you grinned, and the nurse started moving your wheelchair toward a birthing room again.

- I did! And if I'm being completely honest, that was impressive. Although I can't help but wonder where he'll land. - you laughed through pain. - Ok, let's get you out of that dress and into a gown... - she helped you get up and undress, and was ready with a hospital gown. She also helped you onto the bed.

- He's a fucking COMPACFLT, he'll figure something out. - you laughed, when you were finally in the correct position, while the nurses were attaching all EKGs and other stuff to you. - Sorry for the swearing, it actually helps with pain... - you mumbled, and leaned on the raised part of the beb. - I guess it's already too late for the epidural. - you savored those couple of minutes without any contractions.

- Unfortunately, yes. - dr. Montgomery put a drop of gel on your stomach and put a USG wand to it. She went silent for a moment, but eventually, she smiled. - Ok, everything looks perfect. She's in a perfect position, the umbilical cord is visible and out of the way, her heart rate is normal, and you're officially 7.5cm dilated. It looks like it's gonna be a quick one. - she explained and moved the USG machine out of the way. - Are you ready to do this...? - you heard a commotion outside of the room and Bradley's panicked and angry voice came through the closed door.

- You better let him in, because he honestly might break the door. - you laughed, avoiding replying to her question because you didn't want to start without your husband.

One of the nurses opened the door and Bradley almost fell to the floor.

- Y/N! Are you ok, what's going on? - he was holding your hand in an instant, but he chose a poor moment because another contraction hit you, and you couldn't help but squeeze your hands around his forearm as hard as you could. He let out a quiet squeal, but nothing more.

- I'm in labor. Without my husband next to me. That's what's going on! - you've said through gritted teeth.

- Y/N, she's crowning, you have to start pushing soon... - dr. Montgomery was serious, and yet your stubbornness wanted to fight her so badly. That was until you heard a chopper nearing the hospital.

- That's Ice and Mav, go get them! - you slapped Bradley's shoulder, and he followed your orders without even thinking of stopping and asking from where exactly he should get them. But that wasn't your problem now, because there was another contraction, and you really felt the need to push, but you did everything in your power not to... Just a few more minutes...

- Y/N, I'm serious, if you won't start pushing soon, you'll be putting your daughter in danger... - you looked at her worryingly and you clenched your jaw.

- He's gonna be here any second now... - you wanted to cry because you had a plan. And it just shattered to pieces. But you still were holding desperately to the most important part of it, and you just couldn't let it go. Not yet.

- I know, sweetie, I know... But when the next contraction comes, I really need you to push as hard as you can, ok? I'll let you know when that will be, but please be ready, ok...? - her tone of voice was kind and soft, and you finally nodded. - Great. I'm here for you, and Tom will be here before she'll be out, I can promise you that. - you smiled a bit and dried your forehead with your wrist.

- Ok. - you exhaled when the door to your birthing room slammed open and you saw Tom, who was currently more than out of breath and red in the face. You didn't even see Mav and Bradley behind him, completely focused on your husband, who basically teleported to your side.

- Contraction is coming... Are you ready...? - dr. Montgomery asked and you nodded, pulling your husband's arm close to your chest and holding it tightly, almost like a teddy bear. - Hi Tom. - she welcomed your husband but shushed the other two men from the room. It was a miracle that when the next contraction came, you didn't crush Tom's arm.

- Good, good! You're doing amazing! - the doctor smiled while checking the situation. - I can actually see the top of her ears now! Tom, if you want to, you can get behind Y/n on the bed, like we practiced. - you sighed heavily, too tired and in too much pain for expressing complicated emotions.

- I love you... - you whispered when Ice was behind you, and you leaned into his strong body, which relaxed you almost immediately; muscle memory working faster than your brain could. - And I'm really glad that you made it.

- I love you too... And we'll talk about everything later because Bradley mentioned something about a firetruck. - he chuckled and you couldn't help but join.

- Another contraction guys, be ready... - dr. Montgomery said, and Tom wrapped his arms around you and intertwined your fingers together, so you would have something to hold onto.

This time you cried because it was just too much... Your scream full of pain echoed in the small room, and you felt your husband's lips on your neck, which surprisingly helped. You leaned more into him, actively pressing against him with your whole body and you could feel his muscles tensing. You knew he was whispering something to your ear, but you were in too much pain to actually process what he was saying.

- And we have the head! - you couldn't help but laugh through tears because you knew the worst part was still ahead of you. The good thing was, that everything was happening so fast, your brain didn't have time to properly catch up to was happening, because you were still in managing the crisis mode. - Another contraction coming! - why the hell they were so close together!? And why the hell you didn't realize earlier that you needed to go to the hospital? You'd be all nice and numb, but instead, you were digging your nails deep into your husband's skin.

You didn't know where one scream ended, and another began because everything started blending together. There was a moment when you felt something cold being pressed to your forehead, and another to your lips, but you weren't sure who or why did that. It did help a little though.

- Ok, sweetie, one last time, the shoulders are almost out! - the promise in dr. Montgomery’s voice brought you down for just enough to focus on that one last push, and after the massive amount of pressure, there was almost an instant relief, and you heard your baby girl cry, which instantly made you sob.  You could also feel Ice shaking behind you. - Tom, do you want to get here and cut the cord? - you turned your head to look at him, and you could just tell that he didn't want to leave you alone even for a second.

- Doc...? I know we talked about it being 20-30 minutes, but I feel the need to push... Like NOW.

- Oh! Then push! Now! Is everyone ok with me cutting the cord? - both you and your husband nodded, and you started pushing again. This time it took less than a minute and your placenta landed in the intern's hands, while dr Montgomery was checking and measuring your daughter. - Damn, that was quick! I'm a little bit jealous, not gonna lie! - she came back and put your baby girl in your arms. - She's perfect, all fingers and toes present, she's 48cm tall and she weighs 3.1kg. Lungs are fully developed and everything else looks good. I would still like to run a few more tests later, just because she's here 2 weeks early, but in my professional opinion - she's gonna be perfect. - You were registering what she was saying, but your whole focus was on this beautiful baby girl in your arms. She wasn't crying anymore, just looking at you with beautiful silver eyes. You knew there was a chance that this color would change over the next couple of months, but they could also stay the same since they were almost a perfect copy of Tom's eyes.

- Hi... - you said softly, and gently touched her nose with your finger and she fussed a bit. - It's nice to finally see you face to face... - you whispered again, completely ignoring the nurses who were currently cleaning you up because it simply didn't matter.

- She's perfect... And you were amazing.... - Ice whispered directly into your ear, looking over your shoulder at your daughter. - She's so tiny... - he added and gently cupped her head

- Oh, she'll grow... - you couldn't help but laugh. Considering how tall Tom was compared to you, you were genuinely surprised that she wasn't bigger.

- Did you come up with a name...? - dr Montgomery asked while she was filling up your file, and you looked at your husband and smiled.

- Yes, yes we did... Astrea... - he said and hugged you just a bit tighter, and placed a small kiss on the top of your head.

- That's a very beautiful name... Now I know we talked about it in detail, but I'm just gonna repeat it one more time... Try to feed her in the next hour, and try to get as much sleep as possible. How is your pain? - dr. Montgomery asked while she finished your paperwork.

- It's... manageable, at least with all the endorphins... - you replied, still lost in your daughter's eyes.

- I'm going to prescribe you something for it, and the nurse should be here any moment to help you with everything. I'm gonna go now, but I will be checking on you. And if you'll need anything else, just ask the nurses to page me, all right? - she smiled at you and nodded. - Are you ok with visitors? - you nodded again, gently cleaning your baby's head and face with a towel. You knew it was best to wait with a bath for at least a day, but that didn't mean she would have to be covered with amniotic fluid for that time. She was so quiet and so well-behaved. She didn't cry, just moved her arms a little, and just looked at everything around the room with those beautiful silver eyes.

- Do you need anything, dove? - Tom asked from behind you, also completely enamored with this little creature in your arms. He just couldn't fathom how such a perfect little thing was his daughter.

- Just... Stay there, ok...? - you leaned into him more, and allowed your head to rest on his shoulder. You were sticky from sweat and tears, but none of you cared.

- I'm not going anywhere... - he laughed quietly, and you hummed feeling the familiar vibrations behind you, and they did wonders in making you feel safe. He gently moved your hair from your face, and you melted into his cold hand.

- Hey guyyysssss... - Bradley whispered, a bit afraid that if he said something louder, he might scare the baby.

- Hi... - you replied and beckoned both of them closer. - Meet Astrea... - you couldn't stop smiling when you put her head a bit higher, so they could see her better.

- Hi Astrea... - Bradshaw's voice was still barely a whisper - It's a pleasure to meet you...

- Actually... We have something to ask you, kid... - Ice said, while the younger man still couldn't take his eyes off your daughter. You talked about it in detail over the last month and agreed on that; you just didn't expect that would ask about it so quickly. - We would like you to be her godfather...

- Hmmm? - he hasn't processed the request yet, still completely focused on Astrea. It was fun to watch his face catching up to his thoughts. - Are you serious? - he finally looked at you, still convinced that it might have been a joke.

- We're serious. - you replied and gently squeezed his forearm. - We figured that Mav already will have his hands full with you, and considering what huge help you were during this last month, we know we can trust you, and that's what's most important. - you smiled at him and only now you noticed tears gathering in his eyes.

- Yes! Of course, I will be her godfather! - he finally raised his voice above a whisper, and Astrea immediately looked at him with her piercing eyes.

- Then it's settled... uncle Bradley... - only now you noticed that Mav also had trouble keeping his face straight.

Since that memorable dinner, you had a serious, almost 4h talk about this whole situation, and - if you were completely honest - you felt more like a therapist than a friend... And there were moments when he wasn't treating you seriously, because how could you understand such complicated circumstance. He wasn't entirely wrong... But fortunately in the end everything was dissected, and discussed, and you two made peace about your intervention.

- Whoa, a lot of people! Is mama ok with that? - the nurse came in and was instantly the focus of the room.

- More than ok, thank you. They're family. - you smiled at Mav, while he tried to discretely wipe the tears that gathered in his eyes. He hasn't said a word since he came in, and if you knew that seeing a baby would finally shut him up, you might have gotten one earlier.

- Ok then. - she replied with a giant smile on her face. - How do you feel about a shower, dear? - she asked, and you honestly couldn't think of a better proposition.

- I'd love that... Ice, do you want to take her...? - you asked, but you already knew the answer. Of course, he would. And he did without batting an eye, finally holding his daughter for the first time in his arms. The nurse helped you stand up and only now you realized how much everything hurt, and that there was fluid running down your legs. - Bradley, my bag? - you asked and he pointed at the armchair, where your purple bag was. 

- Are ok to take the shower alone, or would you like some help...? - the nurse asked, and you were far past any shame.

- Help would be great, thank you, because there is no chance I'm gonna reach everything. Also, doctor Montgomery was supposed to prescribe me something for pain...? - you've mentioned because you were slowly coming down from that high of endorphins that pushed you through the whole labor.

- I know dear, everything is ready. But in my opinion, it would be better if we waited with the IV after showering. Will you be able to wait till then? - you nodded, while you were taking your towel, toiletries, and your personal gown from the bag. - Ok, dad... Off the birthing bed, we're going to wheel it out and bring the regular one, with everything fresh. - the nurse offered you her arm for stabilization while she was bossing everyone else around, and as if she willed it into existence, two younger nurses came into the room and started quickly cleaning all the mess from the labor.

Before you entered the bathroom, you took one last look at your husband, in full uniform, now standing up and holding your daughter who looked tiny in his arms; you could have sworn that she was much bigger half an hour ago... Ice looked at you with a huge smile on his face and mouthed a short, soundless "I love you".

[rose-pearls]

Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell - Masterlist

Hi! Welcome to my Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell Masterlist, there are other Top Gun characters that I write for and that you can find right here - Requests are open

If you want to have a look at other fandoms I write for it is on my Main Masterlist

Oneshots:

She needs some lovin'

A night at the bar makes you meet two different pilots, Maverick and Iceman

Through the seasons

Your relation with Maverick through the seasons.

Prohibited kisses

As Ice's sister you are definitely not supposed to be making out with Maverick, but you can't help it

Soft moment together - Smut & Fluff

Request: Hi! Can I get some soft fluffy smut with Maverick from Top Gun?

Back to Iceman - Part 2

He should've never let Tom walk away but in the end he did, it only takes him ten years to realise he can't live without him (IceMav)

Absent

Request: I wanted to ask if maybe you could do a work based off of the complicated relationship between Maverick and Fire (could be a different reader character (father!Maverick)

Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye

5 times Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky thought he would lose Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell + the one-time Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell lost Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky (icemav)

Little Kazansky - Stories

Request: Hey Darling! Idk if you accept cannon ideas but I have a few and you’re my only top gun mutual I talk to 🩵 it’s a mix of icemav and lil Kazansky :))

Prompts:

Did you at least think of me when you were with her?

Series:

The making of Captain Kazansky-Mitchell

!Father! Maverick: As Iceman & Maverick's daughter you had always been ready to enlist, until you heard a conversation between your fathers stopping you in your tracks for a moment. But if there is one thing you are, it's stubborn.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Can you write something with young!Maverick?

Something like where they meet and she has heard about his reputation (he's the type to only stay a few nights and then move on to the next girl). So, when one night, he approaches her all smiley and flirty (and maybe a little shy and cute) she thinks that's exactly what he wants from her - to take her home for a night of sex just to move on to other people the next day. And, even though she has developed feelings for him, she accepts it, albeit with no expectation that she will become anything other than just another one he spent a night with or that it was anything other than just sex and fun. So, imagine her surprise when he starts acting the exact opposite towards her from what she expected - always wanting to be with her everywhere, skipping nightlife to be with her, being super clingy and loving, etc, etc. She doesn't believe he has feelings for her but she just can't understand his behavior. She starts to feel overwhelmed because her feelings for him only get worse and she fears the day when he will stop giving her that kind of attention (maybe she thinks this is just a harmless game for him, where she is the shiny new toy he is getting to know until she no longer interests him that much). She confronts him, confesses her feelings, gets angry and tells him to stay away. He desperately tries to tell her about his feelings for her, that he has always been in love with her and has tried to get closer to her through everything he has done because he didn't know what else to do. She doesn't believe him and it's basically him desperately trying to prove his love for her and all that cute stuff with a really happy ending 💖❣️

I also imagined a lot of cinematic chase scenes, inspired by that sand chase in There Are Rules and the f14 airport scene in Altitude 🤣🤣 so there's that. Lots of desperate, all-consuming love, perhaps ending with a love making scene that includes it all? Making desperate, passionate and hungry love. Someone so in love that they don't even know what to do, whether to cry or laugh.

You could also include a classic “misunderstanding scene” that unearths deep-rooted jealousy, but is it not what it seems? Lol it's all very cliché but honestly, it's the best shit in the world when it's written by someone who knows what they're doing, I live for desperate love.

I know this is extra long but hopefuly you'll be able to make it, I simply love your writing. Thank you. ❣️❣️

Oooh what a fun request! Thank you so much for sending this in!! I hope you don't mind, I kind of see this as a series rather than a one-shot, just because there's a lot to cover XD

Best of the Bad Boys

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

CW: mild angst, swearing, fluff, allusions to sex

WC: ~2000

Masterlist

“That’s Maverick. Maverick Mitchell.”

You tear your gaze away from the animated man near the bar, throwing his arms around wildly as he describes some aerial trick he’s no doubt performed just that morning. You know exactly who he is, and yet, you turn to your friend jadedly and say, “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

She gives you a sardonic smile and skeptically scoffs. “Right. Like your father’s never mentioned his name.”

You shrug, glancing back at the pack of fighter jocks crowding the front of the establishment, each one admittedly a high-flier in his own right – pun intended. But Maverick… Maverick still manages to stand out. “He talks about all of them,” you reply nonchalantly, adding, “It’s not like I sit there and listen.”

“Why are you staring, then?”

You blink away, executing an elaborate eyeroll as you do, and fix your friend with a serious expression. “I can’t look?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“They’re nice to look at.”

Your friend nods in approval. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Doesn’t matter what his name is. What any of their names are. They’ll be gone in a couple of weeks.”

“Perfect fling material, if you ask me,” your friend wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“No thanks,” you respond with a grimace. Every couple of months, a fresh assortment of aviators arrives at Top Gun, ready to take on the world. Already the finest pilots in their respective squadrons, they are sent to train at the most elite fighter tactics school on the Pacific seaboard. Their egos soar higher than their jets and their heads are always in the clouds.

You see the various groups come and go – the program is only several weeks long – but it’s always entertaining to watch them transform over the course of their training. It’s why you frequent the officer’s club rather than any of the other pubs in the area. That and the cheap drinks.

“Probably for the best,” your friend sighs dramatically. “He’s got a reputation.”

You purse your lips, watching Maverick smile at the waitress as she distributes another round of drinks among the officers. You know about that too. “Point him out to me,” you say, as though you have no idea whom the conversation is about.

Your friend leans into the table and discreetly aims her finger in Maverick’s direction. “The pretty one,” she mutters.

You let out a small chuckle. “They’re all pretty.”

Your friend shakes her head. “Not that pretty.”

“Not that pretty,” you agree musingly. You make an effort not to fall for the top guns of Top Gun and, until Maverick, you haven’t had much trouble upholding that rule. But everything about him, from the squint of his eyes when he laughs to the radiant warmth of his smile, not to mention his muscular arms, makes your heart skip a beat.

And then he pivots in his stool and his gaze, coincidentally, lands on you. You hastily look away, hoping he didn't noticed you staring, and start to fiddle with the pearls of your necklace. Several moments later, you slowly lift your eyes to check if he’s still looking.

Your heart nearly springs up into your throat when you see that he is. His mouth quirks upward slightly before he gives you the kind of smile that says he’s confident you’ve already noticed him.

You don’t smile back. You’re not about to engage in this dance. You do not associate with pilots. Your friend, on the other hand, is all for the naval aviator experience.

“He’s looking at you,” she whispers excitedly.

“Stop,” you warn her sternly. “I’m not interested.”

“Well, I am,” she urges. “Let’s go talk to them. I like the blond one.” But before you can refuse for a second time, your friend mutters, “Oh god, never mind. They’re coming to us!”

You look at her in alarm and then gulp as several of the men from the bar approach your table. You glance up at them with raised eyebrows.

“Hello,” Maverick says, looking directly at you. He presses his lips together into a vexingly endearing sideways smirk.

When you don’t respond, your friend chimes in excitedly. “Hello, hello! Welcome!” she exclaims, as though she’s receiving guests for a dinner party. “I’m Susan. Hello!”

You eye her moodily as she motions for the newcomers to join the two of you at the table.

“Mind if I sit here?” Maverick asks, pointing to the seat next to you.

You meet his gaze reluctantly. “Knock yourself out,” you respond coolly. You’re still annoyed that he caught you staring and you intend to make it clear that you are not just some girl he can charm into bed.

Maverick’s smirk widens somewhat, as though he’s not quite buying the act. He takes a seat beside you while one of his friends starts chatting up Susan who seems very much to be enjoying the attention.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Maverick says, leaning over slightly so that he could speak more discreetly. “Slider, here, wanted to get to know your friend. And I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch him crash and burn.”

You glance at Maverick dubiously. “That’s why you’re here?”

Maverick looks at you, then, and his gaze drifts languidly over the features of your face. “Would you prefer a different reason?”

Ignoring the frantic stutter of your heart as his eyes settle on yours, you shrug and look away, taking a sip of your drink. If only he knew who your father was, he wouldn’t be so bold. “I would prefer honesty.”

“Okay,” he says, resting his forearm on the table. “Honestly? I couldn’t leave without meeting you.”

You glance back at him hesitantly, not sure how to react. “Why?” you ask, trying to control the embarrassing tremor in your voice.

Maverick drops his head and lets out a small chuckle. “I just couldn’t,” he says. “That’s as honest as I’m going to get.”

You eye him tentatively, wishing he weren’t so dangerously good-looking. His sheepish smile almost makes you forget that he dates women for sport.

But the longer Maverick sits by your side, the less important his apparent promiscuity becomes. And when the two of you wind up in the back alley behind the officer’s club, wrapped in each other’s arms, you aren’t overly concerned about the future outlook of this particular liaison. Something about the way he kisses your neck convinces you that some moderate heartache might just be worth it.

Maverick weaves his fingers through yours and lifts his arm over your head, pressing the back of your hand into the brick wall behind you. He cradles the back of your head with his other hand as his mouth moves hungrily beneath your jawline. You let out an audible sigh and he pins you even more firmly against the wall, as though the sound you made has aroused him further.

And despite your every intention to just kiss for a while before taking your leave – because you don’t do flyboys – Maverick has managed to change your mind without speaking a word. You want to tell him that you’re flattered but no thank you, instead, you breathe, “come back,” when he finally pulls away.

Maverick smirks at you and tugs on the hand he’s still holding so that you’re drawn directly into his arms. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers.

You wrap your arms around his body, flattening yourself against him like you mean to be absorbed. And he folds around you like a cocoon, his arms enveloping you so securely, you barely have to hold yourself upright. He moves backward, pulling you after him toward his bike.

…

“We fucked,” you tell Susan the moment she puts her car in park.

She looks over at you with wide eyes and an even wider mouth as her jaw literally drops. “You and Maverick?” she shrieks.

You wince anxiously and look around, making sure nobody heard her exclamation. Then you roll up your window and nod for her to do the same. “Keep it together, Susan,” you hiss. “We’re behind enemy lines.”

Susan grimaces apologetically but the remorse is fleeting and, before you know it, she’s eagerly bouncing in her seat. “As if you’ve been blabbering on about a fender bender for half an hour and drop this bomb right before you have to go!” she whispers feverishly. You give her a grievous look which she expertly ignores. “Was he good?”

You sigh. “He was fine,” you say curtly, still uncomfortable sharing the details of last night’s encounter while sitting in the parking lot outside Hangar 1.

Susan appears disappointed. “Just fine?”

You glance around once more and then respond quietly, “He was very good.”

“I fucking knew it!” Susan yelps, tapping you on the knee excitedly. “Tell me more!”

“Later,” you say. “I have to meet my dad, remember?”

She nods. “I’ll pick you up in half an hour?”

“Thanks, Suz,” you respond. “You’re a life saver.”

…

Your father, Top Gun’s very own Viper, paces back and forth as you sit in one of the chairs before his desk. He’s trying to keep his cool. “You sure you’re not hurt?” he asks again.

You nod tiredly. You’ve had a hell of a day.

Viper sighs moodily and shakes his head at you as though he’s not convinced.

It’s at exactly this moment that there’s a knock on his door and, as you begin to rise from your chair to leave your father to his duties, Maverick enters his office.

You freeze, meeting his gaze in alarm. Maverick, in turn, stops in his tracks, gaping at you from the doorway, forgetting even to salute his superior.

“Lieutenant,” Viper says. “You need something?”

Maverick, who seems unable to look away from you, stammers, “Do – I – uh…”

“Maverick,” Viper says sternly, and Maverick finally glances in his direction.

“Commander Metcalf,” Maverick says, a little dazed as though he’s surprised to find Viper in his own office.

“Speak, Lieutenant. I don’t have all day,” Viper grumbles, still irritable from the news he’s received during your visit.

Maverick, who seems unable to recall why he’s even come, gulps nervously and glances back at you again.

“Okay, well, thanks dad,” you say quickly. “I’ll be off now.”

Maverick’s face slowly morphs into a visage of terror as he realizes who you are and what, in fact, it means for him to have had relations with the commander’s daughter. He watches you in horror, beginning to mouth the word ‘dad’ before he catches himself and leaves his mouth hanging open on the ‘a’.

“How will you get home?” Viper asks you, not paying attention to Maverick’s reaction.

“Susan’s picking me up,” you respond.

Viper sighs again. Then, he sighs in Maverick’s direction. “Maverick, meet my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, this is Lieutenant Mitchell, recent Top Gun graduate and a helluva pilot. Hopefully, soon to be one of our newest instructors. If he finally remembers why he’s here, that is.”

Maverick glances anxiously between your face and Viper’s and then holds his hand out to you. “Pleased to meet you,” he says courteously, his eyes resting on yours for a significant moment.

You give him a tight smile and then give your father a hug. “I’ve got to go.”

Viper shakes his head all over again. “I still can’t believe that bastard hit you.”

“Who hit you?” Maverick looks over at you sharply, suddenly on high alert.

“Nobody – the other driver.” You exhale wearily, not too keen on repeating the story for a fourth time in one day. “I was in an accident –”

“Are you okay?” Maverick asks, immediately taking a step toward you.

“I’m fine, totally fine,” you assure him, taking several steps backward until you feel the doorknob at your spine. “I just need some rest.”

“We’ll sort out the car tomorrow,” Viper says.

“Hey, at least it wasn’t a jet, right?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Neither Viper not Maverick is amused by your humor, however, so you reach behind and pull open the door.

“Okay, well, bye dad! Mav – uh – Lieutenant Mitchell.”

Maverick stares after you as you retreat behind the door, still somewhat speechless.

“Tell Susan to drive carefully!” your father calls.

“Will do!” you call back.

Finally, Maverick speaks again. “I, uh” – he clears his throat – “I could give her a ride, sir.”

You pause in the doorway while your father purses his lips, considering the offer. Joke’s on him, of course, since Maverick has already given you one – just last night.

Read Part 2

Maverick Tag List:

I have no idea when this list got so long but the rest of it will be in the comments. Hope I got everyone, let me know if I missed you! As always, let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in my Mav works!

@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

[rebelliousstories]

Cranberry

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Death, Light Angst

Word Count: 2,100

Masterlist: Here

Summary: A certain unusual flavor that has held a special spot in the Mitchell and Bradshaw family every Christmas.

Christmas 1985

“Alright! I’m here! I’m here! I’ve got the goods!” Pete’s loud voice rang out into the government issued housing known as, the Bradshaw abode. A two foot tall blur came barreling towards his knees, and it was only a split second decision that still kept them in tack. He grabbed the youngest Bradshaw and hoisted him hip on to his hip.

“Uncle Pete!” Bradley exclaimed, hugging his favorite uncle. The man hugged him close, never once letting go of the boy or the bags in his hand.

“Hey bud! Oh, I missed you.” His words were music to the woman’s ears as a certain blonde haired lady rounded the corner.

“Pete!” Carol exclaimed, piling on to the hug that was started without her. Maverick took one arm and wrapped it around her, while pressing a brotherly kiss to her cheek.

“Hey Carol.” Pete took a deep breath in, finally enjoying being able to relax a bit with his closest friends.

“Oh, so this is where everyone went.” One more set of arms piled on to the group hug and encompassed them all.

“Hi sweetie.” Pete teased at his taller friend.

“Hiya hun.” Nick threw back at him. The one great thing about their friendship, is that each one could give as good as they got. But they were there to enjoy time as a family. Slowly but surely, each layer peeled away to reveal the bags that were still in Pete’s hands.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Should’ve taken these first, Pete. Here let me get those.” Carol tried to reach for the bags, but Maverick went head and stepped towards the kitchen to set them down. As he did, he felt Bradley being pulled from his arms by Goose, allowing him to move freely.

“I got it, Carol. Just tell me where you want stuff.” He offered, watching the woman fight every bone in her body not to take over.

“I just… well, alright.” While Carol and Maverick were busy in the kitchen, Bradley and Goose were busy playing with each other in the living room. A huge tree sat in the corner, complete with lights, ornaments, garland and other pretty decorations. It provided endless hours of entertainment as Bradley was still so little. He was amazed by the lights and colors coming from the tree.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Pete and Carol were having a blast doing the last minute preparations for their big Christmas dinner. Turning the giant turkey in the oven and basting it, toasting up some Hawaiian rolls, making the side dishes, and most importantly making the cranberry sauce. It was the one thing that Carol always insisted on making from scratch herself. An old family recipe that had been passed down for generations. It had become a staple of any holiday meal, or even one made on special occasions.

The family sat down for their meal, and Carol set the cranberry sauce delicately down on their table. For the rest of the night, there was conversation, laughter and entertainment in general. The cranberry sauce was always the highlight of the meal. No one was allowed to know exactly what or how much of anything was put into the sauce, but none of them cared. No one cared what she put in the sauce, only that it was delicious and a staple of their table.

//

Christmas 2020

“Babe! I’m back from the store. I got everything you needed.” A feminine voice rang out, carrying bags into the home. Pete wiped his hands down on a rag before stepping out into the foyer to help her with them.

“Thank you for getting these, dear. It really helped.” Maverick grabbed majority of the bags and pressed a loving kiss to his partners lips, before moving to the kitchen to prepare the very last thing they had to make. An old, and worn recipe card laid on the counter amongst all the ingredients that they needed for this particular dish.

“You’re welcome, Mav. Do you need or want any help?” She wrapped her arms around his body and pressed another kiss in between his shoulder blades. Maverick pressed his hands to her arms, yet shook his head.

“No, I got this. You go ahead and get ready for company. I’ll take care of this.” And with that, Maverick stayed in the kitchen while his lover went off to go get ready. He tried to follow the recipe as closely as he could, but these were written in not quite so accurate measurements. Finally, he understood when she used to say, “southern measurements.” It confused him to no end. A pinch, a smidge, a helping; these did not make sense. How much were each of them? By the time he finished the batch, his lover appeared from their bedroom, looking refreshed and festive in her brilliant red sweater.

“Mav, you okay honey?” Her hands trailed up his arms while he was standing over the pot on the stove.

“Will you taste this?” Pete gave the spoon with a small helping of the sauce to her lips. When she tasted it though, her face scrunched up in displeasure.

“How is it both too sweet and too salty?” She questioned, staring at the offensive cranberry sauce.

“I don’t know. I can’t understand these measurements so it didn’t turn out like I had hoped.” Maverick admitted, thrusting the card in front of her eyes. They scanned over the card and turned to her partner with a certain mischievous grin.

“Would you like me to help?” She teased, already getting to work on restarting their work station.

“If you think you can do better, be my guest.” He waved his arm to the mess he had made. She worked to first clean and dispose of the cranberries that had been used already, before setting up to try again.

As she read the recipe card, and followed the corresponding instructions, Pete was suddenly thrust back to all those years ago. Every Christmas and Thanksgiving where he watched Carol move around the kitchen to make this simple dish. He had a hard time shaking the memories of Carol and her loud, obnoxious singing that would inevitably bring him and Goose into. The way she would dance with Nick in the kitchen as she finished up their meals, or after them.

His mind blended them together, unable to discern one from the next. It brought him a sense of comfort that he had not felt since her untimely death. She seemed to understand the writings on the small piece of paper, as her movements never slowed preparing the dish. Turning off the stove, she set the pot off to the side to cool and grabbed a new spoon to scoop out a bit of the sauce to try. She blew on it to cool it down even faster and after several attempts to eat it, it was finally the perfect temperature for her to sample. Letting out a pleased hum, she grabbed another spoon and gave it to Maverick. He, too, stuck it in the cooling pot, and blew on it a few times before bringing it to his lips to enjoy. But he could not enjoy it. All that he could do was keep tears at bay. Noticing her lover bent over the counter with the heels of his palms in his eyes, she set her spoon down and wrapped her arms around the pilot.

“Mav, what’s wrong?” She asked, and he heard, but he could not bring any words to his lips.

“Pete?” She pried once more, and got an embrace in return. The man had turned around and brought her into his arms, while placing his head into the crook of her neck. There was no noise from the man, but there was a wet spot slowly forming on her sweater from where his head laid. She did not try to get him to talk anymore, just stroked a hand through his hair and over his back as he worked through whatever he was feeling at the moment. His tears slowed, as did the shake in his shoulders, to a point where he felt comfortable enough to pull his head from her neck. Pete wiped his hands across his face, trying desperately to remove the evidence of tears, however her hands caught the few stragglers that were still falling.

“I’m sorry. That just… that tastes exactly like how Carol made it every year. And your mannerisms are so similar in the kitchen. I’m sorry.” Tears welled up in Maverick’s eyes, but none dared fall. That was until she returned her hands to his face to cup it so gingerly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Mav. It’s okay to miss her. It’s okay to still hurt when you think about her.” She assured him, stroking gently over his cheeks. Pete grabbed her hands in his, and turned to place a soft kiss to each palm, before taking the hands from his face and holding her close.

“Thank you.” He whispered, leaning in to steal a kiss straight from the source. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, and enjoyed the feeling of closeness with her lover before they both were drawn away by the sound of a door opening. Turning in his arms, the couple watched a young mustachioed pilot walk through the door, taking off his boots, and removing his sunglasses.

“Mav?” He called out. The couple turned back to each other, and disengaged to go greet the man. Bradley stood in a Christmas patterned Hawaiian shirt, which Maverick was shocked he could even find but he guessed anything was possible with the internet now. Once the couple came into view, the woman ran up and greeted him.

“Bradley! So good to have you here.” She hugged him close, and he allowed himself the small bit of affection.

“Good to be here, Mrs. M.” He responded, only drawing back when she did.

“Bradley.” Pete now greeted, with a handshake, but that quite got drawn into a hug as well.

“Uncle Pete.” Both men knew what he said, but neither dwelled on it for too long. They pulled away as well, and went to the table. Both men grabbed plates of food, and set them down on the table. However, Bradley was stunned to notice the homemade cranberry sauce on the table. It looked so similar to-

“Alright, boys. Dig in.” Everyone went to work plating and serving themselves the bountiful feast before them. The couple placed a little bit of cranberry sauce on their plates, but when Pete passed the dish to Bradley, he refused.

“Sorry. I don’t like cranberry sauce.” He dismissed the plate that was still in the older pilot’s grip.

“Just try it, Bradley. Trust me.” Thy stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, before the younger pilot took the dish from Maverick, and dished some onto his plate. The couple watched Rooster as he tore off a chunk of bread and reluctantly ate the cranberry sauce on his plate; wanting to get it out of the way to hopefully wash down the store bought taste with the rest of his food. But this did not taste store bought. This tasted homemade. This tasted exactly like the cranberry sauce he ate growing up when his mom was still alive.

He could not believe what was in front of him now. In disbelief, he stared at Pete, who simply nodded his head with a wide grin plastered on his face. Turning, Pete’s lover was staring nervously at the man, hoping she did it justice.

“Did you make this?” Rooster whispered, fearing if he raised his voice even a little bit, that he would break whatever spell this one little dish had over him.

“Mav found an old recipe card that your mom had when she would make this. He tried to make it but he can’t read southern measurements like a woman can.” She joked, jabbing her eyes towards said man teasingly. Bradley vaguely heard a, “they’re so confusing,” and “not real measurements,” from the man, but his ears were rushing, drowning out all sound. Eventually, he took another bite, and another, and another, till there was no more sauce on his plate. It tasted like home. A home he had lost and never found his way back to yet.

“Thank you.” Bradley looked the woman in the eyes, hoping that his sincerity came across as much as he felt it. She rubbed his shoulder from here she sat, and everyone turned back to their meal.

[thewulf]

Authority Thing || Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Summary: Request - Hi can you write a request about Maverick x a shy pilot reader and make it fluffy. Like Maverick pulls reader out of her shell?

A/N: Kinda made this a shy pilot because she’s crushing on him not because she’s shy in general. Also turned out way more angsty than I was planning but it’s still super fluffy! Hope you still enjoy :)

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Y/N (2022 Version)

Word Count: 3.7k +

Edited again 3/11/24 after finding lots of issues - sorry!

He knew from the moment he spotted you in the back of the classroom on that very first day he was a goner. Physically, you were perfect. Your hair framed your face perfectly, your eyes reflected the sunshine in a way he’d never seen, your smile was truly infectious, you were perfect in all the right places.

Mentally, you were a challenge for him. You were shy. So quiet. He couldn’t seem to get through to you either. You were close. So damn close to taking that next step. But it’s like you were afraid. You were scared to fail. You were an exceptional pilot. Right on par with Hangman. You were good enough to block him out and take him down. You were able to prove that you were the best of the literal best. But something was stopping you.

You were never afraid to challenge your classmates. He got a kick out of it when you’d snap back at Hangman with the venom dripping in your voice. You were beyond intimidating when you needed to be. You didn’t need to talk shit because your flying proved how good you really were. You knew you were good. You knew you were great. You also knew your limits. You knew you needed to become exceptional. There was something more for you to give. You just had to find it first.

But Pete, Maverick, Mitchell? Maverick terrified you, in the best way. He was a legend. Literally never lost. Almost had five live air kills… you could go on and on about him. Ad to find out he was your instructor for the next six or so weeks? You knew you were toast. Absolute toast. Then you actually laid eyes on the Captain, and you wish you could’ve just exploded right there on the spot. He was handsome. So, fucking handsome. You locked eyes with him for only seconds on that first day of class before your turned away. You didn’t look back to him at all that class. Too terrified you’d make a damn fool of yourself.

So, you kept it short with him. Quick ‘Yes’s and No’s’. You’d often just take his corrections without fighting back. It confused him. You were so damn different with him than anybody else. You’d even warmed up to Cyclone, the Admiral for God’s sake. He saw you walking, talking, and laughing with him on your way to lunch one day. He didn’t have a clue as to why you were so shy around him. Why you’d rather run in the opposite direction than have to pass him in the hallway. It’d only been two weeks and it was driving him mad. He needed to talk with you. Was it something he did?

He would he decided. At the end of your next classroom session. One way or another he’d get some answers out of you. He needed to know if he did something wrong. It was gnawing at the back of his head.

“Birdie, if you don’t mind. Stay back for a second?” You looked at Bob who just shrugged, unsure of what your instructor could have wanted. You packed up slowly letting everybody trickle out before walking towards the front of the classroom.

Birdie. Your callsign. You had a love and hate relationship with it. You’d always joked that you felt like a bird in the sky when you were in training to become a pilot. Your friends promptly started calling you Birdie and it just stuck. You kind of wished you had a more fun story to tell other than the boring one of how you got your callsign. But alas, you didn’t. It was simple. Cute. Basic. Kind of like you. You’d never seen yourself as anything but ordinary. Just Y/N. Good at her job Y/N.

“Captain.” You let out a shaky breath. He made you nervous. So damn nervous. People of authority always did. And then he looked like that on top of it? Forget it. You were a goner. It wasn’t right to be thinking such unsavory thoughts about your damn instructor in your head. It made you act like a fucking weirdo in front of him. Case and point. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

“Good job up there today. Four for four.” You looked up from where you standing just quickly enough to see him staring right at you. Why’d he have to be so handsome? It was an unfair game that was suddenly being played against you.

“Thank you.” A small smile crept to your face hearing the compliment. It felt good. A small praise from the man giving you a small bit of confidence to look up to him but give him no more.

He nodded walking down to you, standing across from you. Your heart rate picked up quickly feeling his presence right there. Right in front of you. Oh, how you’ve avoided this situation masterfully. Now look where you were. Stuck alone in the classroom with him right there in front of you. What could possibly go wrong?

He waited until you looked at him to continue. He knew curiosity would get the better of you sooner or later. He was right. After thirty seconds of silence, you looked up.

He smiled seeing your doe-eyed expression. He shouldn’t feel this way about you. He shouldn’t want to brush the strand of hair that fell out of your bun away from your face. He shouldn’t want to run a hand along your back. He shouldn’t want to fucking kiss you senseless. But he wanted it. He wanted it all and more. So much more. What the hell was wrong with him? You were so young. So lively. Had so much to look forward too. Hell, you even had a shot of becoming an admiral if you had the drive to do it.

“Sir?” You asked, waiting on his question. His reason for holding you back.

He hummed delaying a second, “Everything alright?”

Nodding quickly your head turned up to him again, “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

He shrugged looking away for a moment. Giving you a second of reprieve from his gaze. Everything about the man was commanding. Everything, “No reason. You just seem to be a bit fidgety?”

What the hell was he going on about? You weren’t acting any different than you had been prior, “I do?” Of course, you were fucking fidgety. He was less than a foot from you not having a damn clue what he was doing to you. You could smell him. He smelled better than you imagined. Leather, oil, and cedar all mixed together. Way too good for a day instructing on base.

“Did I do something?” He spit it out. Well, it was out in the open now. It’s not like he could take it back. It sounded so terribly insecure when he spoke it out loud.

You shook your head, “No, not at all Captain.” Your heart started racing as he gave you a once over.

“Then what is it Lieutenant?” He asked with all the calmness in the world.

Your head was swimming. Swimming with thousands, millions of thoughts, “Sir?” Play dumb. That was always the easiest route to go.

“Why can’t you look me in the eye Y/N?” Why’d he have to use your name like that? It got your dumb hear racing faster than even you were used to.

Your eyes snapped to his. That was not the question you were expecting, “You… Authority makes me nervous.” You spoke quietly deciding to keep your eyes locked in on his. Not letting his statement completely reign true.

He grinned a wicked look before a much more innocent one came to face, you didn’t miss it though, “I make you nervous?”

You said nothing at first, nodding quickly in agreement instead, “Authority.” It was merely a whisper.

Mav’s face cracked into a simper while he studied your features, “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

You didn’t move your head, but your eyes moved to look to him, “I suppose that’s easier said than realized.” You admitted.

He stepped forward. Probably crossing a line, he shouldn’t have. But he couldn’t stand it. Why were you comfortable with everybody else but him, “What can I do then?”

You cocked your head to the side, “What do you mean Mav?” You asked so softly he thought his knees were going to buckle right then and there. You said his name so sweetly it took him off guard. He really should just let you go. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t be pressing you like this. He knew better than to. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to press on. Dig a little deeper. See you a little bit better. He was intrigued.

“Is there anything I can do to make you less nervous?”

You laughed softly. Get ugly? Stop looking like that? Stop being so hot in a flight suit? Stop being my flight instructor? “Afraid not Captain.” You sat back on the desk knowing this was likely not going to be over soon.

He took a seat next to you, “Why not?”

You shrugged, “It’s the authority thing. Call it trauma.” You joked.

He smiled along with you, “So, say I wasn’t your instructor…”

Cutting him off quickly you felt your blood run cold, “You’re not going to kick me off the squadron are you?” your panicked look made him feel awful

He shook his head quickly, “No, no never. It’s a hypothetical.”

You sighed softly, “Sorry.” You felt an overwhelming amount of embarrassment consume you. You’d worked so hard to get to where you are that even a little bit of an inkling of a threat sent you into overthinking mode. You weren’t proud of it by any means. It was something you were working on.

“It’s fine.” He smiled feeling your tension just radiate off your body. He seemed to pick up on anything relating to you. Again, he had to wonder. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Would you be as nervous around me if I wasn’t your instructor?” He quirked up a brow all too curious to hear your answer.

You laughed softly, “Yes, I would.” It was starting to become easier to talk to him. But he still intimidated the hell out of you. You hadn’t a clue how to navigate your superior being hot as hell. Normally they were old dudes who had kids your age. Not Maverick.

He huffed in almost frustration. He appreciated thar you were being honest with him, but he wasn’t sure what it was about him, “But why?”

You shrugged, “Still an authority, Captain.”

He placed a hand a little too close to yours, “You seemed just fine with Cyclone earlier.” He leaned in almost challenging you. He loved talking to you, but this conversation had gone of for too long now. Curiosity was literally killing the cat.

You nodded along with him, “Well yeah, that’s different.”

He looked at you incredulously, “How?”

It slipped out before you really meant to say it, “He’s married.” And then it was out there. It didn’t take Pete long to put two and two together. You were basically screaming that he was off limits and that Pete wasn’t. You didn’t mean to all but admit it but here you were. Heart hammering in your chest.

“I mean. He’s established. He’s not my direct authority. You know what I mean?” Even you didn’t know what you meant. You were caught red handed. Hand in the cookie jar. Damn. It is what it is now.

Mav shook his head with a lopsided grin, “I think I know exactly what you mean Y/N.” He also knew you’d never outright admit it either. He realized just how damn weird the whole thing was for you as well. He was your superior. You couldn’t cross that line either. Not unless you knew for sure that it was alright. The game the both of you were playing was dangerous. Very dangerous.

Thick tension hung in the air. You hadn’t a clue what to say to your instructor after accidentally telling him the real reason he made you so nervous. Not outright spilling the truth but putting making it rather obvious in your wake instead.

“I should get going.” You stood from the table you were sitting on.

He mimicked your actions, “Should you?”

Nodding your head you gave him a flash of a smile, “Yeah, long day tomorrow. You said so yourself. Right?” Raising your eyebrows, you knew you had him there.

His otherworldly smile lit up his face. God, he was so handsome. That just wasn’t fair.

“Right. Sleep well Y/N. See you in the morning.”

“You too Pete.” You weren’t sure why you used his first name, but it felt right. Felt like a step you wanted to take for yourself.

You didn’t catch the furious blush that rose to his cheeks at that. He knew he needed to pull back immediately, or he’d get himself, or you, in trouble. He couldn’t be blushing around Cyclone when you came around. He’d just have to ignore it. He could do that. Or so he thought he could.

Maverick must have gotten in your head. The next day was... less than stellar. You had a bad day. A very bad day. You landed without a single victory. With Rooster shooting you down for the second time that afternoon.

Sitting in the jet cockpit of the hangar you’d pulled your helmet off without much thought and just sat there. Thinking. You were fine yesterday. What the hell happened today? You’d been shot down five times. Twice by Hangman, twice by Rooster and once by Phoenix. You weren’t even close to shooting them down.

You were too eager with you grip making dumb rookie mistakes. Mistakes that’d have you shot down in an instant up in the air. All of them were able to see it and exploit it. A bad day. That’s all it was. It didn’t make you a bad pilot. Not in the slightest. You had to remember that. Drop today and remember how good you really were.

“Are you going to come down Lieutenant?” That voice broke you from the thoughts that were seemingly tormenting you in the cockpit. The ones that kept seeming to tell you that you weren’t good enough. You might’ve been the best at your home base but not here. No. You were average amongst the best.

Your eyes snapped open. Pete? What was he doing down there? He hardly came out here after training, “Yeah.” You answered quickly not wanting to leave him waiting. He wasn't one for patience, “Just thinking.” You knew you needed an excuse or he would press. No matter how lame it may be. But it wasn’t a lie. You really were just thinking.

He didn’t say a word as you came down the ladder. When you got a good look at him he almost looked, angry? His lips were drawn in a thin line. He had a hard time looking at you. Eyebrows stitched too close together for him to be in a good mood.

“What the hell was that?” His normally chipper tone had vanished. He sounded too much like an instructor now. He didn’t even sound like the Maverick you had gotten to know. No, a drill sergeant instead. He noticed your expression change as you realized this wasn’t going to be a fun conversation.

He felt bad doing such a 180 on you like that. But he had to, for your sake. Or so he thought.

“I’m not sure sir… I...” You stammered trying to come up with something. He’d already made you nervous and now this? You were a blubbering mess. Sure to look like the fool of a woman you knew they were likely expecting of you. See, the men could make mistakes. You couldn't. Women couldn't.

“Not a single kill today Lieutenant?” His voice stayed icy as you stood there forward like he was a drill Sargant. It suddenly felt like you were back in basic training all over again.

You looked down in what felt like shame, “No, Captain.” The voice that came out of you sounded weak. Likely because you felt weak. You didn’t feel like you were good enough to be here. Like all those kills you got against Hangman and Rooster prior to this day was just all just luck. Straight luck. Rationally, you knew better. You knew how good of pilot you were. You wouldn’t be good enough to get here. But your own mind was playing tricks on you. Planting seeds that should’ve never been dug.

He pressed further not seeing that he was beginning to push you past your breaking point. Further than even you would have expected from him. Your head was already coming down too hard on yourself. His words only seemed to dig that dagger in a little further that drove the final nail in the coffin of your confidence.

“What’s the problem then Lieutenant?” He stepped closer, challenging you. You weren’t in the right headspace for this. Not in the slightest.

You shook your head slowly, “I don’t know Mav.” Looking down at your boots you couldn’t bear to look up at his disappointed expression. You were just trying to hold back the tears at this point.

“You don’t know?” He sounded patronizing as if he was talking to a toddler.

“I…no.” Your voice was too shaky, so you stopped. Collect yourself. You could do this. You’ve done this hundreds of times before.

He must’ve not noticed the tears that were threatening to spill over as you looked up at him finally, “I can’t put somebody on a team who doesn't know what's going on. I need somebody who knows what they do wrong!" His voice grew from anger to frustration as he spoke. Yet he failed to see your utterly devastated gaze as he went on and on about things you had already known. Each word felt like a knife as he continued on, "You won't get a second chance on this mission. If you get shot down you're as good as dead."

Your heart ran cold, feeling as though it was shattering into a million pieces right then and there, “You don’t think I know that sir?” Your voice nearly broke as it wobbled through trying to finish the sentence.

He’d certainly noticed it then as his eyes finally found your tear stained cheeks. He usually knew how hard he could push. He could usually push you a whole lot harder, but he’d gone too far today. He knew when he heard that unusual waver in your voice.

He hadn't planned it but he knew he needed to back off, “It’s a bad day. It happens. Shake it off Birdie." The words come out of his mouth so fast he was sure you felt like you were getting whiplash from his hot and cold behavior. One moment he was nearly flirting with you then the next he scolding you.

He didn’t mean it. Not a bit of it. He didn’t even like being an asshole to Hangman, although it was fun sometimes. Being one to you made him feel awful. But he had to. He wasn't kidding when he said you didn't get second chances out there.

You shook your head, “I’ll do better tomorrow. I don’t know…”

He cut you off by placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. He hadn’t noticed how wound up about the day you had already been. He didn’t mean to push you further. He was just trying to be the instructor you needed to succeed on this mission that didn't have amazing outcomes.

This was the opposite of being tough on you though, “It’s fine Y/N. Go home. Read a book or watch some TV. Come back tomorrow. You’ll be just fine.”

You looked at his hand on his shoulder before looking at him, giving him a curt nod, “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You turned to walk away, brushing the tears away from your eyes.

Before you could walk through the locker room door you tuned back to him. After today you weren't sure if you even deserved the consideration,“You shouldn’t pick me.” You said so quiet you weren’t even sure if he heard it.

By the way he walked right over he must have. He grabbed your arm suddenly, not forcefully by any means, “Don’t say that. Why would you say that?” He genuinely felt awful for pushing too hard now. This didn't seem like you. You were headstrong. Stronger than even he seemed.

You looked down almost ashamed to admit it to him, “Because… because I’m not good enough sir. You saw me out there today. I'm as good as dead.” You were supposed to be the best of the best, but you hardly felt like it today. You were getting your ass handed to you left and right. Hangman was laying it on thick today too. He did that whenever he got the chance.

The day started bad when Rooster knocked you out almost immediately. And only got worse on subsequent runs. You were zero for four by the time you went up for the last round of the day. You got in your own damn head. It happened. It happened to everyone. You knew it. Still didn’t make it sting worse when you were on your thousandth pushup for the day.

He shook his head grabbing your hand quickly, “What are you talking about? You’re one of the best pilots I’ve ever worked with. You’re a fucking menace out there Y/N.”

You shook your head, “You’re just saying that because I’m about to cry.” You wanted to believe him. Maybe any other day you’d believe him. It was a no good, very bad day for you.

He only dropped his hand from your arm to bring it to your shoulder once again, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I’m not. I’m really not. Believe it or not.” He sighed collecting his thoughts once more, “I’m sorry. Really. I only come down hard on you because I know you can handle it. But I need you to not think like that. If you do get picked I need your head screwed all the way on. It’s not your run of the mill mission and you know that. You’ve got to be all the way there. All the way present. You hear me?”He asked.

You turned your head to look up to him, “Yeah. I hear you.” Your voice was much more you, more controlled.

He didn’t quite believe you though so he continued, “You are an exceptional pilot Y/N. The rest of the squad needs you to be. Bad days happen. Don’t let that asshole get to you.”

You smiled for the first time that day. It felt good talking with him. Actually, talking and not being afraid of him. A dramatic shift from that of moments ago, “You got it. Thanks Mav.” You wanted to thank him as a friend. Maybe a potential suitor. Not as a student. Not as a subordinate. But as a person.

He smiled for the first time that day as well. He had a long way yet to go with you, but it was a start. Something. He knew one thing that was sure. He was excited to get this damn mission over with. He didn’t want to be your superior anymore. He wanted to be your co-worker. The person you turned and laughed with whenever the most outrageous orders were given. He wanted to get there, was determined to get there.

“Sure thing, Y/N.” He let his hand fall, “See you at the Hard Deck tonight?” He asked curiously.

“You’re coming?” You’d seen him there the first night. You’d thought he was the most handsome thing in the bar. Hangman did not. Kept giving you shit for giving the ‘old man’ eyes. Whatever. You hadn’t seen him at the bar sense that night though. But he knew you guys went every Thursday. He listened.

“Maybe.”

You smiled once more, “You should. It’d be fun to see you kick Hangman’s ass in trivia.”

He laughed, a genuine one, one he hadn’t felt in quite some time, “How do you know I’m any good at trivia?”

You shrugged, “Have a feeling. Hope to see you tonight Pete.” The wink you sent him sent butterflies aflame throughout your body. Where in the hell did that confidence come from?

Pete legs went to jelly for a second as he watched you walk away. That you would. He was sure of it.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @dempy

[mqverick]

Waking On Air || chapter 6

Sleeping peacefully in your bed, you were cradling a pillow to your chest. The sun was beaming through the blinds causing you to stir slightly. It was chilly outside, blanket clung over your shoulders as you groaned when the first beam of sunlight hit your face. Your head was still throbbing from everything you’d experienced with Maverick last night; his hot breath still ghosting over your lips — you couldn’t get him out of your mind, which lead to you having some very intense dreams about him closing the gap between your lips and kissing you senseless.

With a heavy heart, you peeled yourself out of bed, (not) ready to face another hard day. You knew Iceman would question how you’d been feeling last night due to the continuous dodges of his calls — and frankly you hadn’t even thought of any excuses yet, nor cared to come up with any.

Your mind was consumed by Pete Mitchell and every little bit about him; how welcoming and loving his hug had been, how touch deprived you felt after the loss of physical intimacy with him, how he looked at you as if you were his everything, how he’d hovered over your lips, just a breath away from pressing his own softly against yours. You were all about Pete, Pete, Pete, Pete.

At Top Gun, your mind was still racing, especially after knowing that Maverick was just a few feet away from you (and Tom, but his existence had grown irrelevant since the almost kiss incident). You eased a little when Goose came up to you with a wide grin, announcing that Carole and Bradley would be coming to visit for a week.

You loved Carole — she was your girl-friend, the only person you felt free to talk to about anything and honestly, she decided to come the right time with everything that had been happening lately. With her, you were in a judgement free zone; you had an utterly great deal of trust in her and the feeling was mutual. You felt like crying when Goose mentioned that Maverick would be tagging along — and that apparently, both of you were invited over to their place for dinner.

It came with its price; being friends with Goose. He was Maverick’s best buddy, his RIO, it only made sense that they’d come together as a package deal, which meant that there would be no possible way to avoid him. Not that you really wanted to.

Except you did.

You had to start focusing on Tom again. Even thought it turned out as an unpleasant experience to you, you’d promised to give him another chance — you really wanted to and you truly believed he deserved it. Tom, it would be — no more letting yourself get wrapped around the ridiculous Mitchell charm that had you swooning in the air.

Having just arrived outside of Goose’s door, you knocked on the wooden surface, closing your eyes momentarily and preparing yourself to greet Maverick, who Goose had informed you was already there. You flinched a little when the door opened to reveal him holding little Bradley on his arms. His face looked pink, you supposed it was because the kid had been exhausting him with his games.

“Hey, you,” he breathed softly, giving you a little smile and scooting away to let you in. You returned the expression, muttering shyly a hi back. “Look who’s here, Bradley!” Pete exclaimed enthusiastically, handing him to you gently. You hugged the younger boy, taking him in your arms and spinning him around. He giggled, tiny fingers wrapped around your longer ones.

“You’ve grown so much, Bradley! I missed you.”

Maverick grin was threatening to tear his face in two — seeing you with a kid was making his heart beat rapidly against his rib cage. “Goose and Carole are in the kitchen,” he informed you and you looked up at him, nodding and letting Bradley know that you’d be right back. You made your way in the kitchen, squealing when you saw Carole. The blonde’s lips parted in silent surprise, eyes widening with joy and within minutes she was asphyxiating you in a tight embrace.

“Man, all this time I thought my occupation would kill me but you’ve been the secret assassin all along,” you joked, trying to free yourself from the hug because it was starting to hurt. Carole slapped your arm playfully in response.

“I haven’t seen you in years, I can’t believe it!” You both smiled and hugged again, the corner of your eye catching Goose in his ‘Kiss The Chef’ apron awing at you two. “God, you’ve got to fill me in on everything.”

A good amount of thirty minutes passed, having ended up telling Carole about literally everything, including the situation between Tom and Pete. It surprised you nonetheless how unbelievably unbothered she looked when you mentioned you might be having feelings for Maverick. Were you really that transparent?

“I love Mav, Roger, I’m not going to lie to you. That boy has been nothing but a delight to me and my family for as long as he and Goose have known each other — trust me, Nick has painted the picture between you and him so I could already figure out that you like him.”

“I don’t like him,” you denied, your inner voice laughing sarcastically in your head. Right that moment, Maverick walked into the kitchen, holding hands with Bradley and asking if the food was ready. Your voice got caught in your throat, which didn’t go unnoticed by Carole.

“You might’ve convinced me if you didn’t stop breathing the moment he walked inside,” she whispered to you after Maverick left. Your cheeks burned knowingly with embarrassment, eyes darting on the floor. “You both need to stop being so childish about it. You’re grown enough to know that the heart wants what the heart wants.”

It was true; you knew that. The heart wanted what it wanted and it was painful enough to have you emotionally wrecked; torn between dread of betrayal and heartbreak and chasing what you wondered could be love. All that you knew was that every time Maverick looked at you, you died a little bit inside knowing that it would be wrong to simply grab him then and there and kiss him like it was your last day on earth.

You excused yourself, seemingly upset but not bothering to care as you walked back into the living room. You stilled against a wall at the sight of Pete Mitchell — the cockiest man of them all — curled up on the rug, making takeoff noises and waving around a model plane in front of Bradley, who was having the time of his life. Your lips curled upwards at the image, a newfound fuzzy feeling tugging at your heartstrings.

Maverick’s head snapped towards your direction when the sound of a cough echoed in the living room — it was Goose, who’d been trying to hold back a snicker from watching you find yourself in a head over heels moment. The RIO rushed away from you before his friend could even see him and you wanted to punch him with inhumane force. Trying to play it off, you cleared your throat and approached the pilot, kneeling down on the carpet next to him and turning your attention to Bradley. The little boy hugged you, giggling.

Your head unintentionally turned towards Maverick, whose heart clenched painfully as he reminisced about the fact that you couldn’t be his. He gave you a tight lipped smile, bringing out a hand to gently caress Bradley’s blond hair.

You didn’t even realize how fast the time was going until you looked at the sunset outside of a window that was partly covered by a thin beige curtain. Bradley and you were seated on the couch, the younger Bradshaw having the laughs of his life bouncing up and down on your lap.

Maverick was somewhere in the kitchen with Goose — you occasionally scanned your eyes through the little window-thingy on the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room to find Pete stealing glances from you, which had you all flushed and hot.

“Roger, promise not to kill me,” Carole begged sweetly, standing over your shoulder. “Goose and I haven’t seen each other for a long time and we thought it’d be kind of nice for us to go grab a couple of drinks together. Tonight.”

“What about Bradley?”

“Well…” she trailed off suggestively, looking over at Maverick.

Realization hit you instantly, taking over your facial expressions as you glared at Carole. “No. No, Carole, don’t do this to me.”

“I wish I could say I’m sorry, but I’m really not,” the blonde said with a smirk and slight raise of her shoulders. You lifted Bradley off your lap, placing him on the ground as you stood up, ready to strangle Carole and go for Goose next. By the time you were about to react, the newly reunited couple announced that they would be taking off for a night of ‘fun’, as Nick liked to put it, leaving you, Maverick and Bradley trying not to suffocate into the awkward tension that had built up.

Clueless to your lack of emotion, the kid ran to his room happily, imitating airplane sounds. You plopped back on the couch with a heart-clenching sigh, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion.

“I hate your RIO. I fucking hate him,” you gritted through your teeth, not bothering to open your eyes.

“What can I say, Goose is a fabulous wingman,” Maverick replied proudly. You hated him as well, especially his smug demeanor and smirk.

“I’m going to ignore you through the rest of this night and go take a shower. Can you put Bradley to sleep?” you announced, already making your way to Goose and Carole’s room. Maverick obliged to your request. You carefully shut the door, not trusting it open when the cocky pilot was in the same place as you, knowing you’d be bathing. You peeled your clothes off of you in a hurry, deciding to wash your hair as well.

When you stepped into the shower, you let your body relax and follow the rhythm of the hot water dripping down your back. Truth was that part of you, the same one that’d been complicating both your loyalty to Iceman and relationship with Maverick, was sort of grateful for Goose’s wingman skills. Maybe you needed that night alone with Maverick. Maybe it was just a test for your limits; see how far he or you would take it.

Your hands massaged the soap against your abdomen, giving a warm rush throughout your insides. Obviously, the thought of Maverick hadn’t left your mind and you desperately wanted — needed — to act on it, but you’d be damned if you let your intuitive thoughts get ahold of you. Turning the shower control shut, you wrapped a towel around your wet body, entering the bedroom once again. The tension had eased for sure, but there was still a rather irritating feeling around, which you decided to ignore as you began dressing. You roamed through the dressers and found a large black tee and pair of sweatpants that belonged to Goose (by great chance). You put on your sports bra and then the stolen clothes, flinching when the door opened out of the blue. Your hands intuitively covered your private parts, even though they were fully clothed.

“Hey, just wanted to let you know that Brad’s asleep,” Maverick informed you, jaw slightly dropping when his eyes rose to look at you. You’d never been as gorgeous to him as you were that specific moment; looking so casual in Goose’s clothes, with one sleeve of the shirt hanging a bit down your shoulder due to the size and revealing a strap of your black bra, hair damp and dripping.

He wanted to just grab the back of your head and kiss you as if his life depended on it. Little did he know that you’d been dreaming about that too.

“Thanks,” you muttered lowly even though your heart was pounding violently against your chest. After dismissing him, you supposed he’d go away and let you be, but you were proved wrong as he did the exact opposite, walking further into the room and gently kicking the door shut. You swallowed harshly, fighting back your raging blush.

“Hi,” he said again, only this time with more softness in his voice, which caused your heart to do a little flip-flop. Ignorance was your to-go with response, but knowing how stubborn Maverick became once he set his mind on something — or rather someone — he tried one more. “How was your shower?”

“‘T’was fine, Pete. What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

His gaze burned into you, the hunger in his eyes making you barely lose your nerve. It was driving you out of control, palms sweating, blush eventually spreading across your skin as the tingling sensation that originated from your lower body but had managed to multiply its growth all the way up to your stomach caused you to cross your legs in hopes of stopping a certain wetness from pooling between them. You gulped down what felt a wall of bricks, fidgeting with your fingers all while refusing to hold his eye contact.

Maverick spoke without a warning, letting you know that he was also in need of a shower. You nodded shyly and got comfortable on the bed, switching on the small TV across from it that stood on the dresser. Nothing interesting was on — or maybe there was — but to you, the faint sound of droplets running down a certain body you’d been craving for the past couple of days just a door away from you was the most fascinating thing, a true attention span.

The noises from the TV had blurred out in the background somewhere along your fantasies as your brain partially collapsed into thoughts and feelings, letting your body take complete control. Your eyes rolled back, eyelids closing in pleasure while your thighs unintentionally squeezed tightly together in anticipation and arousal. You wondered if Maverick was thinking about you in the shower as well.

Suddenly, the doorknob of the bathroom twisted open and you prayed you didn’t look as flushed as you felt. For the first time, you got to witness Pete in an outfit other than his signature white t-shirt, bomber jacket and blue Levi’s. He’d probably grabbed Goose’s clothes just like you had earlier, throwing on a pair of gray sweatpants and a long sleeve black sweatshirt with sleeves that were too long for his arms. He managed to look exceptionally handsome and adorable at the same time, which honestly baffled you.

“Wanna sit?” you found yourself asking him. Maverick had never been the type of guy to refuse a request that tempting, so he slid right next to you on the bed, one leg on the mattress while the other was positioned on the carpet.

Even though your eyes were burning through the TV, you had no idea what you were supposed to be watching. Your organism was one hundred percent running on Maverick and how impossibly good he looked with those sweats. In attempts to get into a more comfortable position, the waistband had slipped off down the bone area above his hips, revealing a patch of skin.

His hair, just like yours, was wet and clinging on to his forehead. It looked even darker, which you thought was weirdly attractive, yearning to let your fingertips get a taste of how it would feel through and against them.

Bradley’s in the next fucking room and you’re thinking about sex with Pete Mitchell, pathetic perv, your inner voice screamed furiously inside your head. No, forget about Bradley! You have a whole boyfriend to yourself and you’re thinking about sex with Pete Mitchell, insatiable freak.

You shook yourself out of your nasty scenarios, laying there in complete silence with him. Your feet moved up and in a crouching motion. His eyes met yours and your breath hitched up unnecessarily — God, you were embarrassed of yourself. There were droplets of water running down across the length of his jawline, casting you almost jealous of how smoothly they crossed through his skin, wishing you could be just one of them.

“Roger,” he hummed your call sign, causing a dreamy look on your face, pupils dilating significantly as you got lost on his voice, needing desperately to get drunk on it as if you were a teenager experiencing the first drink at a party.

“I want to hate you,” you blurted out. Maverick furrowed his brows in confusion. “I’ve wanted to hate you since the day I met you.”

“But you don’t?” he questioned almost shyly.

“I don’t. I can’t.”

He couldn’t help the faint smile that painted across his lips, bringing a warm palm on your shoulder and grazing it all the way up until he brushed a strand of half-wet hair behind your ear. You leaned against his hand, hankering after the physical contact like a touch deprived person. You pulled away shortly after, though, realizing that both of you had been chasing each other’s lips in attempt to make the gap between you disappear.

“I know, we can’t,” he dismissed with hints of sadness in his tone. Little did he know you’d been equally disappointed. “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

Before he left from the room, he stopped one more time to look at you, leaning down, allowing his hand to rest against the back of your head as he pressed his soft lips against your forehead and muttering ‘good night’ in the cell of your ear.

Your hand ran up your forehead and through hair in despair of what would happen if you listened to your heart and followed Maverick in the living room. It had already been a stressful evening, you decided while tucking yourself in, face buried in the pillow as you squeezed your eyes in order to make your vision pitch black instead of seeing fantasies of what-ifs and maybes.

chapter 7

tags:

@holishol

@iheqrtaustin

[maverickbabes]

Everything will be okay

Everything will be okay

Maverick x female reader

Warnings: mentions of depression, mentions of self-harm, cussing, angsty stuff but a cute fluff ending.

Summary: You are struggling mentally and Pete is there to help you get through it.

You sat on the couch, lost in your thoughts as you held your knees up against your chest. Maverick was at work teaching the dagger squad leaving you at home alone. "Come on y/n snap out of it" You whispered to yourself as you felt tears once more begin to well up.

You sat there for what seemed like hours, just crying your eyes out and punching your leg in anger. You hated that you felt like this, felt like a failure, like you didn't matter. "ARGH" You screamed as you got up from the couch and punched the closest thing to you.

Which was a wall.

"Baby I'm home" Pete says closing the front door with his foot as he set his jacket on the arm of the couch. "Fuck" You mumbled under your breath as you wiped your tears hurriedly before walking around the corner trying your hardest to smile. "Hey honey how was work?" You said as your voice quivered which Pete noticed immediately.

"Hey hey what's wrong?" He asks as he places his hands on your arms, tilting his head concerned. "N-Nothing I'm fine" you whimpered as tears fell down your cheeks once more. "Stupid fucking tears" You mumbled angrily as you wiped them away with your good hand. "Hey those aren't stupid tears love, what's going on" He said as he pushes a few loose strains of hair away from your face.

Shaking your head, you collapsed onto the ground sobbing loudly as you felt every emotion course through you. "Oh baby shhhh it's okay" Maverick says kneeling on the ground as he held you in his arms. "I'm struggling Mav, I'm struggling and I can't seem to find a way out" You sobbed into his chest as you started to punch your leg again, surely to leave a couple of bruises.

Thoughts circled in your mind at a hundred miles a minute.

why am I like this?

what did I do to deserve this?

I'm worthless

"Stop! Please just make it fucking stop" You screamed as you attempted to wiggle out of his arms but he just held onto you tightly. "Shhh it's okay let it out" Maverick cooes to you as he rubs your back lovingly.

After a few minutes of shouting and crying, you started to calm down, feeling yourself slowly start to get sleepy from all the crying and screaming. "You doing okay there darling?" Pete asks you softly as he continues to rub your back and leave kisses on your forehead.

"Wanna tell me what's going on?" He says in such a gentle tone that it made you feel terrible for how you acted just a few moments ago. "I've been struggling mentally Mav. it's been like this for a few days and I don't know what to do. Half the time I feel like im just existing." You explained to him and he nods his head before looking you in your eyes.

"We are going to get through this. I want you to know that you are not alone at all. I'm going to be here right by your side every step of the way." He tells you as he rubs his thumb along the side of your cheek. You nodded your head before leaning forward, giving him a gentle kiss.

A shooting pain shot through your hand that it reminded you to tell him what you did earlier. "I punched the wall before you came home" You mumbled hoping he didn't hear you but he did. "I'll patch it up in the morning. come let's fix up your hand then run you a hot bath" He says before picking you up and walking towards the kitchen.