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jackiequick · 1 year ago

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TOP GUN OCs Part 3 ✈️

-> Click here to see the other parts

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Nurse Jordana "Echo" Walker 🩺

Callsign: Echo

Age: 38

Relationship status: Divorced, Single

Background: Jordana, known as "Echo," is a skilled medical doctor in the squadron. She earned her callsign due to her exceptional diagnostic skills and the ability to provide vital medical support during missions. Her father was a renowned military surgeon, which inspired her to pursue a career in medicine.

Personality: Compassionate, charming, level-headed, and dedicated to her patients' well-being.

Lifestyle: Echo leads a fulfilling life, both personally and professionally, and is committed to her role as a doctor.

Nicknames: Her colleagues often refer to her as "Jor” or “Jordan”

Extra information: What she loves the most is getting get nails dirty and behind the wheel of a car or plane, ever since she was a child she was fancied by the way Navy pilots took the skies and feel like nothing even better once they’re above the clouds. That feeling of watching the world spin around while your frozen to your seat in the air and the adrenaline you get afterwards.

She was flying for a while in the late 90s—early 2000s, when she saw plenty of pilots become jet washed and she didn’t like it one bit, hearing stories about plenty being injured on the job and not a lot of staff on board, so that resulted in her taking up a medical exam. A few short months later, she started working alongside nurses and doctors to help nurse pilots back to health. Which is where she met Captain Maverick Mitchell, as he was injured after flight testing and sent to the medical wing of the North Islands to get check up, he was charming and thanked her for cleaning up his wounds.

With a smile Jor told Mav, “You gotta be more careful next time, Captain.” Maverick just grinned and nodding, saying he’ll try to best more cautious even though sometimes tells him, he will be back in this medical wing a few short months later. And he was right, meeting Jor again as she was sewing his wounds near his eyebrow. That time, he brought a friend who got hurt with him. Wraith. So she had two patients to nurse back to health, thankfully they weren’t that badly affected from the crash. Just a few cuts, bumps and bruises.

It didn’t take long for Jor to meet the rest of the 86 crew members, as Hollywood, Wolfman and Slider would make appearances at the hospital along with their friends Iceman, Buzz, Valkyrie, Sunset and others. Sometimes it was for checkups, other times to see some of their friends at the clinic but sometimes they just liked hanging out with the staff. Mainly because they were good people.

Captain Apollo "Mack" McCleary🔐

Callsign: Mack

Age: 42

Background: Mack, known simply as "Mack," is a control room operator. He earned his callsign due to his impeccable skills in managing communications and mission coordination. His precision and reliability make him an essential part of the squadron.

Personality: Analytical, total sweetheart, humorous, reliable, and a natural problem-solver.

Lifestyle: Mack has a steady and disciplined lifestyle, often working long hours in the control room.

Relationship Status: Mack is married to his high school sweetheart.

Nicknames: His colleagues affectionately call him "Mac."

Extra information: Apollo has been in the multiple square areas and has been working ever since he started back in 2005 in the Navy, wanting to be apart of Blue Angels and be behind the controls. He has always been one to have honest honor and respect towards everyone around him, putting his trust and thoughts into pilots he believes who can take the heat as he navigates them from the operations center. Such as Iceman, he would give all his attention and follow his leadership, as he stands back in the frontline of the control room sending up to the skies.

But it also gets him into a lot of trouble, due to him listening to Maverick during the Darkstar Project for Mach 10! Apollo knew it was supposed to be canceled that day, but a part of him though they gone so far into the process of making a jet that can go hypersonic it was worth a final flight according to Maverick. So Mack and his team got to quick work setting everything up in the control room launching Maverick into the air as he commuted with him from the ground reaching Mach 10–but it cost him and Hondo in some trouble with Admiral Cain afterwards. Even though, Apollo got into some trouble he was secretly grinning due to the fact that they achieved that purpose for the project, running home to his high school sweetheart to tell them to the good news.

Afterwards, Hondo gave him a call telling Mack he would be sent to Top Gun to help manage communication and mission coordinations. He was humorous about the fact that he would be returning back to North Island. But he always knew that he would never have a bad reputation there, since one of his friends/lieutenants Fanboy Garcia and Payback Fitch would be sent out the same mission too. So let’s just say things got interesting when he saw how The Dagger Squad decided to challenge Maverick, because Mack was waiting for every single one of them for their push-ups with a smirk.

Mack had his arms crossed and said, “It was all shits and giggles, huh? Drop down and start giving me 10 then we’ll raise it to 20.” All the Daggers glared at him, dropping down giving him 20 push ups as Hondo grinned counting them.

Naomi "Nova" Reynolds🍻

Callsign: Nova

Age: 28

Relationship Status: Single

Background: Naomi, known as "Nova," is a bartender who owns a popular bar near the naval base. Her callsign reflects her vibrant and outgoing personality, which lights up the atmosphere in her establishment. She serves as a source of support and encouragement for the Navy personnel and fighter pilots who frequent her bar.

Personality: Charismatic, welcoming, and known for her sense of humor.

Lifestyle: Nova enjoys a social and active lifestyle, always looking to bring joy to those around her. But she also sassy, knowledgeable due to being a bartender so she knows secrets, and loves karaoke.

Nicknames: She's often referred to as "No" by her regular customers. The women know the rules for the bar set by Penny Benjamin, so she doesn’t have a problem telling people “No”, or “No roughhousing, take it outside.”

Extra information: Naomi never really knew what she wanted to do in (still doesn’t to be honest), as she always has dreams and aspirations for things but as time files so quickly it feels like those ideals weren’t coming as fast as she wanted. As Naomi always said she wanted to be a writer, a musician of some kind finding herself making stories and music, then posting them on social media for some sort of attraction. One afternoon, at The Hard Deck she decided to take a chance singing on the small stage with her old guitar and caught a few eyes.

Penny, the owner of the bar saw how nice of an impression she made on the crowd and offered her a chance to sing whenever she wants. She even asked if she was open to working at the bar as well, Naomi didn’t mind it at all and agreed to Penny’s offer. Training under her and practicing bartending. And to be honest, Naomi loved it!

Working at The Hard Deck made her smile, let her have some fixable schedules since she had an active lifestyle and socialize with brand new people everyday. It resulted in her meeting some friends such as Lucky Kenner, who she already met before she started working there, and the rest of the Daggers. Anyone who walks into the bar, she’s always the first one to greet them at the counter with a smile pouring drinks and taking orders. They would say she’s a sight for sore eyes with an encouraging enough smile.

Jeremy "Renegade" Turner 🗃

Callsign: Renegade

Age: 47

Background: Jeremy, known as "Renegade," grew up in a family with a military tradition. His father was a Navy pilot, and he followed in his footsteps. His callsign reflects his tendency to sometimes push boundaries and sometimes take unconventional approaches during missions, often against orders. Makes sense how he ended up with Maverick as a friend.

Personality: Adventurous, sarcastic and snarky, witty, a bit rebellious, and unafraid to take risks depending on the situation.

Lifestyle: Renegade is a single pilot who leads an adventurous and sometimes unpredictable life, as he’s always sent on missionary work to go undercover and investigate tasks for the Navy. Sometimes it makes him question his line of work and wonder when’s retirement for him again.

Relationship Status: Single

Nicknames: His fellow aviators often call him "Ren" for short.

Extra information: Due to him messing around with Maverick and his gang so much, it makes wonder if he needs new friends, then he remembers Iceman and Wraith are there then he feels a little better. He thinks he’s sarcastic, stubborn as hell and snarky until he met Iceman’s wife Daredevil also known as Hazel, who nicknames him Hawkeye as a joke.

Ren has been working on and off duty for years, everytime he thinks he’s off the hook or thinking retirement is on his way—BAM! He’s given new duties to watch over new records and recruits for TOP GUN, which in his opinion ain’t so bad. He actually liked the new fresh faced students at TOP GUN, being so young and spirited in the way they fly. Some are way cocky for their own good where they get in trouble with their superior officers meanwhile others are trying to keep an low profile and just learn from their own actions.

Ren being well..Ren, always try to get under their skin and see what they’re made of, in small manners. Like let’s say he’s talking to another person and a student is running in the halls, he tells them to not do that but they won’t listen. So in result, Ren would lean a foot outwards causing the student to trip and learn to not run in the hallway. “Oops..i said watch where your going!” Ren said with a little smirk.

Sometimes Ren gets dragged into the craziness of Maverick Mitchell and the others plan. Such as when he was given the role to return to Top Gun as an independent counsel with Hondo and Hazel, having to watch over the team of returning recruits for the highly competitive mission. A few of them, he trained himself being their co-instructor years back, being Payback, Phoenix, Yale and Harvard. Even met Halo once during her classes.

Ren was in charge of being the one up in the far skies and taking notes of the crews flying skills, measuring their speeding length as they went along. Having everything ready for pre and landing as well! Like said beforehand, Ren has a tendency to not always follow orders and end up regularly regretting it later depending on what it is, pushing a few boundaries when it came to Admirals. So in result, he was the one to open the hard deck without Admiral Cyclone’s permission for Maverick to fly and even a few other things.

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callmemana · 2 years ago

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Happily Ever After: Ignore the Poisoned Apple

This is a collaboration with the amazing and talented @crazyk-imagine ! Thank you so much for partnering up with me! It’s a fairy tale au for the 86’ Naval Aviator squad! I hope you enjoy the stories! 💛

A/N: the HEA’s are going to be mostly the same story line as the Disney movies, UEA are going to be darker and more towards the Grimm fairy tales/stories.

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years ago

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There Are Limits

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

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

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

WC: 4000+

This is Part 5 in the There Are Rules universe.

“Captain?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile back at him. “I agree.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

You scoff resentfully. “Don’t be.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t,” you say.

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

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

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

“What’s Charlie going to think?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

“Captain?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sam,” he says. “He’s not the one.”

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

You groan. “Not again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You exhale sharply. “Finish, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maverick stills immediately, watching you uneasily.

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

“I��m not –”

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

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

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

“You were distracted –”

“You’re making excuses for me! Why?”

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

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

Maverick narrows his eyes. “What about Charlie?”

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

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

“Stop coddling me,” you say firmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag List:

The rest of the list will be 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 works XOXO

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echoingbirdsofprey · 4 months ago

Text

Delicate (Jake's Version)

1 - Iceman's Daughter

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: swearing (as usual) and Jake just getting shit from everyone

WC: 2.5k

A/N: So I'm borrowing the twins idea...so Tyler and Jake are twins so those stories will coincide at some point. Enjoy please! Don't be a silent reader either!

Playlist

Sam didn't need a damn thing in this world. Not a thing. She certainly didn't need a man. She certainly didn't need any of these cowboy fighter pilots in Fightertown. They all seemed to want to flirt with her, but it always ended there. No one ever made a move because of who her father was.

Iceman.

U.S. Pacific Fleet Commander Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky.

Her father was one of the highest ranks in the Navy. And when she walked in a room, in a bar, or almost anywhere in Miramar, California, people knew exactly who’s daughter she was.

To say that Sam wanted for nothing was an understatement. Sam would consider herself well off with her almost brand new truck, that yes, daddy did buy, and all her pretty clothes, that yes, daddy did buy for her. She flaunted the fact that her dad bought everything for her. So it was no surprise that there hadn't been a man who could match up. Especially where Sam was much smarter than most of them, and worked harder than most of them too. She had a younger brother and sister, Mark and Alexandra, who were both in high school. Sarah, their mom, had always been a stay at home mom, and took the best care of them all, while Iceman did his duty. He provided a beautiful home, and whatever they wanted or needed.

But it didn't stop the guys from trying.

As she stepped through the open doors at The Hard Deck, a local bar where most of the military personnel hung out, Sam made a vow to herself. None of these stick jockeys were getting in her pants. Not now, not ever. These guys weren't getting a single thing from Sam. She went toward the bar and sat, noticing the sign that said ‘disrespect a lady, the Navy, or put your phone on my bar, you buy a round’ and she made sure to keep her phone off the bar.

“Nice touch, Penny, the sign’s new, huh?” She asked the brunette woman behind the bar. Penny had known Samantha since she was little and it had been about two years since she’d seen her. Penny whipped around and a huge smile that went all the way up to her eyes formed as she nearly ran to Sam.

“You’re back!” She exclaimed as she hugged Sam tight. “And you graduated?”

“I did. Dad was able to make it too.” Sam said, her tone turning slightly solemn. Penny hugged her again, tighter this time.

“I heard he’s not doing well...” Penny said quietly to her and Sam nodded.

“Yeah. So I’m home for now. Working remotely so that I can be here for as long as I need to.” Sam explained. “I’m meeting a friend here.”

“Well, it’s five so the entirety of the Navy should be showing up soon. Speaking of...” Penny said, glancing at someone as they came in. Someone that Sam also knew.

“Mav.” Sam said as Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell walked up and pulled her into a hug. He then sat and his eyes traveled to Penny. Sam knew they had some history, so she checked her phone and then saw Maverick turn to her.

“Tell your dad thanks for saving my ass. Again.” Maverick said and Sam laughed.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked and he explained that he was there on a special assignment. Sam nodded and felt a hand at her back. She turned to see her friend Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace. Another big hug and when the two parted Nat had a big smile on her face.

“I’m so happy you’re here. I’m glad I’ll have a friend to go to the beach with while we’re on assignment.” She said and Sam smiled wide. “And you can tell me all about Harvard and all those boys you met. By the way, you look super pretty as always.” Sam had worn a pretty, lacy dress, pink on the top and blue with flowers on the skirt. She had dressy flip flops on and her phone which had her wallet with her cards and cash attached to the case.

Nat said shed be back in a few and went over to the other Naval Aviators that were there. Sam took a moment and glanced around, taking in the familiarity of it all. There were the tables and high tops on one side, some booths here and there, and then there was a jukebox, a piano, and a pool table overlooking the view of the ocean. The sun was going down so the rays were shining in through the windows, creating interesting shadows.

She hadn’t even noticed the other aviators filing in, all meeting in the corner with the pool table. There was a tall blond, another blond with glasses, a rather handsome black guy about the same height as the first blond, and a shorter Hispanic man. They were all dressed in tan uniforms, names on their right chest, patches and wings on their left. All well put together.

Sam ordered a cider beer, and took a sip. That was the biggest thing she missed about Harvard. Every bar around had a different cider beer. She was going to miss being there in the chilly autumn months when the leaves were changing colors and falling, and everyone was decorating stupid early for Halloween. Penny smiled back at her as she chatted with Maverick, noticing Sam had seemed to be stuck in a daydream, her pink lips on the edge of the bottle opening. She was deep in thought until more of the tan uniforms walked in. A blond with a mustache who wore a Hawaiian shirt, whom she knew as Rooster, then a bearded black guy, two asian guys, an asian woman, and a dark haired white male who winked at Sam as he walked by.

Fuck.

She was trying to not be noticed and of course, one of them noticed her. She should’ve just taken her cider and gone outside onto the beach deck. She couldn’t now though. She had a great spot on the bar. And she did like people watching.

The taller black man and the tall blond had come over to the other side of the bar, asking for a round of drinks for them and their friends. Eleven beers in all. They had to come back and when they did, the black man smiled at Sam. She tipped her head down.

Well fuckity fuck.

She noticed Nat glance over and she decided to shoot her a text.

Sam: don’t mind me i’ll just hang out by myself

She saw Nat glanced down atr her phone and then up at Sam and mouthed a ‘sorry’ and then texted her back.

Nat: i’ll come back over in a few, catching up with Chicken Little

Sam: thought I recognized him, i forgive you as always 🥰

Sam nursed her cider and flipped through her Instagram, looking at her friend’s stories who were back in Boston.

“You here all by your lonesome, darlin’?” A voice asked from beside her. She turned to see the tall blond leaning on his elbow over the bar. His friend, the handsome black man, was standing to his left, staring at Sam with a smile. She sighed and pursed her lips.

“Waiting for someone.” She said, trying not to look at his stupid, very handsome face. He had an air of arrogance about him that unfortunately, Sam was instantly attracted to, but she couldn’t let him know that. And the accent? Fuck.

“Well, someone isn’t here yet, so...” He said as he scooted in a bit closer. His friend whacked him on the shoulder and the blond glanced at him with a smirk.

“New in town?” His friend asked and Sam’s eyes flicked to him. She took a sip of her cider and looked him up and down, just as another one of the tan uniforms walked up. This was the one that winked at Sam. Now she had the attention of three very good looking, very testosterone driven males, who were looking at her like she was a very unattainable snack. And they didn’t seem to know who she was. She saw Nat’s eyes gleen over and a horrified look spread across her face. Sam smirked at her.

“You’re TopGun pilots, huh?” Sam asked with a grin, as she left the beer close to her lips. The blond’s eyebrows shot up and a wild smirk spread across his very pretty, very kissable lips. God, did she want to kiss him. FUCK.

“Jake. Jake Seresin.” He said, holding his hand out for her to shake. She did, immediately noticing how warm his hand was. He flicked his head toward his friends. “This is Reuben Fitch, and Neil Vikander,” pointing first to the handsome black man and then the brown haired, freshly shaven white guy. Reuben held his hand out for her to shake and she did so. Neil did not, instead he just smiled at her.

She took another sip of her beer and glanced at each of them, up and down, before asking, “What are your callsigns, boys?”

Reuben said his was ‘Payback’, Neil’s was ‘Omaha’, and then Jake...Jake took a second, tipping his nose down and flashing his pretty smile before speaking.

“Know a little bit about pilot shit, huh?” Jake asked and she rolled her eyes at him. He smirked.

“I know a lot about a lot of shit. What’s your fucking callsign, Jake ?” Sam said, the swears rolling off her tongue calmly. Reuben and Neil broke out into a fit of laughter and they both patted Jake on his back as they left. Neil leaned in and said, ‘good luck’ to him. Jake’s eyes followed his friends for a moment before the sage green locked back on her mahogany brown ones.

“ Hangman .” He said as he sat on the stool next to Sam.

“See that wasn’t so hard was it?” She said, finishing her beer.

“Penny, m’dear, she’ll have another, on me.” Jake said and Penny shook her head and smiled as she took Sam’s empty and replaced it with a full, ice cold bottle.

“Oh, all I have to do is insult you and I get free beer? Excellent.” Sam said, starting on her second. Jake tilted his head and scooted closer, manspreading next to her. She placed her hand on his chest and looked him dead in the eyes. “Easy there, Peacock . I get it. You’ve got the prettiest feathers . Don’t need to see them any closer.”

“Goddamn you are somethin’ fuckin’ else.” Jake said, shaking his head, an opened mouthed grin plastered to his face. “ Let me buy you dinner .”

“Don't need you to buy me anything else, handsome.” Sam said and Jake just kept on smiling. He looked like a love struck puppy, all wide and sparkly eyed. The only thing that was missing was the wagging tail and the tongue hanging out of his mouth.

“Hard to get is your game then? I can hang .” He said and Sam laughed down the barrel of the bottle.

“That why they call you ‘Hangman’?” She asked and he didn't have a come back this time. He just sat there, smiling like a fucking idiot at her, clearly hoping his handsome fucking face would get her to do whatever he wanted. Oh, boy, when he found out who her dad was, he’d change his attitude for sure. She saw Nat heading back over.

“I see you’ve met Bagman.” She said as she placed her arm around Sam’s shoulders.

“Oh no, are you Phoenix’s girlfriend. Shit. Now I really wanna take you to dinner...I didn’t even catch your name, sweetheart.” Jake said, eyes darting between Sam and Phoenix. She scoffed at him and side hugged Sam.

“I'm not going to dinner with you.” Sam said, taking her phone out and opening Instagram back up. She scrolled for a moment as Jake watched her. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for her to give in.

“You really don’t know who she is, Hangman?” Nat asked, with a knowing smile. Sam glanced at her, Here it comes. The implosion of his self confidence. “Sam Kazansky...” Nat said and Jake’s eyes locked on Sam’s, then widened. He touched his beer to hers and then smiled and tipped his head.

“My Insta is jseresin90 when you decide to follow me.” He said, as he stood. He began to walk away and Sam's eyes followed him. He turned and smiled at her, saluted her and said, “Can't wait to see all your pretty pictures, Sam!”

She followed him with her eyes as he made his way back over to his friends. Sam turned in her seat as Nat sat at the bar next to her. She motioned to Jake.

“ So tell me more about Jake Seresin. ” She said and Nat smirked and asked Penny for another beer.

🛩️🛩️🛩️

As Jake continued drinking and playing pool, his friends and co-pilots teased him.

“What the fuck, Jake? Tell me you got her number.” Neil said, and took a sip of his beer.

“Yeah,, seriously, she’s hot as hell, man.” Reuben said, shaking his head.

“Well?” Bob piped up, with a smirk. Jake stopped as he was about to make his next shot, glancing around as everyone got quiet. And then he lied.

“Course I got her number.” He said, a bit sheepishly, and Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, the dirty blond with the mustache, raised a brow. He’d give him shit later but not here. They all laughed, a few of them sighed and rolled their eyes, and then they went back to drinking and conversing with each other for a couple more hours. When everyone was sufficiently drunk or buzzed, they all decided to head home.

Jake stepped out onto the patio and gazed out over the ocean. Behind him was his friend Coyote, aka Javy. He clapped him on the shoulder and shook him a bit, making Jake smile.

“You okay, man?” Javy asked, and Jake nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.” Jake said tentatively and Javy patted him on the back.

“When you wanna talk about it, I’m here.” Javy said and went back in, just as Rooster came out. Jake had turned to go back toward the parking lot and he drew in a sharp breath as he caught Rooster’s disapproving stare.

“You didn’t get her number.” He said and Jake shook his head.

“Why do you have to be an ass about it...” Jake said and Bradley stepped into his space.

“ Don’t ruin her. You’re gonna be in a world of shit if you do. You have no fucking idea who she is. ” Bradley said and Jake bumped his shoulder into his, as he brushed past him.

“There’s a whole side of me that y’all won’t ever see because you think I’m a dick. Fuck off and let me be.” Jake said as he went down the patio stairs and toward the parking lot.

“Maybe stop acting like a dick then, Bagman!” Bradley yelled as Jake got in his truck and slammed the door. He punched the center console and swore. He took his phone out and checked to see if he had any notifications. Nothing.

Fuck.

#jake seresin x oc #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #jake seresin #glen powell

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writing-with-yours-truly · 5 months ago

Text

Pete Mitchell (Top Gun Maverick) x reader: Returned favor

Warnings: Swearing

Additional information: No use of Y/N.

Requested by: N/A

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

My eyes flutter open and all I see around me is white. Small flakes of white drop on the exposed parts of my still body. Is this what heaven looks like? I guess not, since I'm not flying. I remember my crash. Maverick was out of flares, and so I went behind his plane, and used my flares to protect him, before getting taken down by a SAM. I just lay there on the ground for a moment. Until I hear whirring from what sounded like behind and above me. Only one type of machine makes that sound. I sit up and frantically look around. Shit. Shit. An enemy aircraft. Aimed right for me. The machine guns on the front quickly started warming up, so I run with all my might towards a nearby tree trunk laying on the floor. I just barely made it. Chunks of the tree had been shot off. Soon, the shooting stopped, but then the aircraft moved around to face next to me. The trunk of the tree cannot save me now. The guns started to whir up, and I braced. But the bullets didn't come. I was saved. An F-14 had just flown in and exploded the helicopter. The fiery skeleton of the helicopter landed to the ground with a loud crash, fire following suit. They just saved my ass. Thank God. Who was it, though?

I watch the F-14 as it goes to circle around, but a SAM follows it. Oh, shit. The missile hits the tail end, and it sends the aircraft down, wrecking in the distance somewhere. I found myself jump out of my own skin "Oh, god!" I exclaim to myself. Fortunately, I saw a parachute deploy, and a body was still in the parachute's grasp. The crash site didn't seem too far from me. A minimum of a half mile from my exact location. I stood up from my crouched position, and started on my cautious walk to the crash. I want to know who flew all the way back to the mission to save my ass. That was risky, gambling with an expensive plane like that. Especially for one person. They have family. I don't have anything to risk. It took forever to just get over to the site, as I had to be incognito due to enemy aircrafts surveying the area, due to the runway's destruction.

...

Finally, after what felt like an hour, I could make out the plane, and someone nearby it. I squinted enough and saw none other than...Maverick. So I save him and he returns the favor? Boy do I have some words for him. Coming down here, risking his life to save mine. I stormed over to him. Once he saw my boots in front of his, he looked up at me. "Are you alri --" I push him. "What the hell are you doing out here?!" I exclaim at the Captain. "Saving your ass!" He answered. "I saved you!" My voice was stern, and sounded like a mother's voice when she is scolding a child. "So I saved your life!" He yelled back at me. I rolled my eyes. The silence thickened for a few minutes. "Glad you came back to save my ass. Though I never asked." "You don't need to ask for a knight in shining armor." My response was an exaggerated eye roll. I put my hands on my knees in attempt to catch my breath. Yelling in thin air and cold wind really takes your breath away. Once the air came back to refill my lungs, I asked him a question. "How will we get back?"

...

"You're kidding me." I say as we look upon the enemy airbase. "Nope." Maverick answered, looking into a hangar. Smoke filled my lungs and the sound of alarms screeching replayed in my ear. The gust of wind blew the smoke towards the left and a plane came into view. I coughed as I got a lungful of the air. "Mav... Don't tell me..." I gasped, looking at the older aircraft. "It's our only choice." He looked at my face, noticing high levels of uneasy on my features. "Maverick, we haven't flown one of these since we first started!" His hand slipped into mine, causing a warmth to heat my face up. "You'll be fine. We'll be fine." He assured me, looking into my eyes. "You can't promise that." I answered, eyes watering. "I saved you so you could go home, and now...You might not. They can't risk any one else."

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #pete mitchell x reader #maverick x reader #x reader

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reigningqueenofwords · 9 months ago

Text

It's Not My Fault

Pairing: past Dean x Reader, past Reader x Mitchell (OC) Word count: 2,479

Read on AO3

Part 4 of It’s Not Mine

Two days later, Danny was over at John’s for a few hours. You had a meeting with your lawyer, and you asked John to watch him. He’d easily agreed. Dean was home, having the day off. While John played with Danny in the living room, he was making lunch while talking to Sam on the phone. “So, yeah.” He sighed, having told Sam most of the talk that he’d had with you the other night. “Hardest night of my life.”

“I’m still shocked she’s the reason behind your first arrest.” Sam told him. “I mean, I thought it would have been speeding and then mouthing off to a cop.”

“Ha ha.” Dean replied. “It had to be done. Not only did that dirtbag put his hands on her, I felt guilty. Had I not been an ass, she wouldn’t be going through all this. I’d beat his ass all over again, even with getting arrested. It was completely worth it.” He said proudly. “And I told her I want to step up and be Danny’s dad. Even if she doesn’t tell him I’m his father for years. I’ll wait.”

Danny giggled as he won at Candy Land. “Can I get a juice box?” He asked John.

“Sure thing.” He grinned. “I’ll shuffle the cards so we can play again. Deal?”

“Yes!” He got up and ran to the kitchen.

“-be Danny’s dad. Even if she doesn’t tell him I’m his father for years.” He heard Dean say into the phone, his back to Danny.

“You’re my daddy!?” Danny gasped, making Dean whip around. He dropped his phone in the process. Danny’s eyes were wide as he stared at Dean.

Dean picked up his phone. “Uh, I’ll call you back, Sammy.” He told his brother before hanging up, not letting him reply.

Danny was bouncing on his feet. “So, you’re my daddy?” He asked, hopeful.

“Shit.” He groaned. You were going to kill him.

“GRANDPA! Dean said a bad word!” He yelled, making John come to the kitchen, laughing.

“You used to do the same thing, Dean. Used to rat me out to your mother.” He was amused. “Why the long face?” He asked, confused.

Dean sighed. “He walked in while I was talking to Sam about being his dad. He knows.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Y/N is gonna be so upset.”

Danny tilted his head. “Why would mommy be mad you’re my daddy?” He asked, clearly confused.

John lifted Danny up. “The answer to that is boring grown up stuff.” He told him. “I’m sure your mom will be the best person to explain that. Okay?”

He sighed. “Fine.” He didn’t want to hear boring grown up stuff. “Can I have my juice box now?”

Danny was playing on his scooter on the sidewalk while John watched from his porch. You’d texted that you were on your way home, so Dean was hiding inside. As soon as Danny spotted you, he dropped his scooter and ran to you. “Mommy! Is Dean my daddy?!” He asked, hugging your legs.

“Um, what?” You ran your fingers through his hair. “Where did you hear that?” Did Dean tell him?

You glanced over as John made his way over. “He heard Dean on the phone with Sam apparently.” He explained. “Then told on Dean when he said a ‘bad word’.” He chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood. “Dean’s worried you’re gonna be really mad, so he’s hiding.”

“Of course he is.” You sighed. Moving to crouch, you took Danny’s hands. “Yes, Dean is your daddy, baby.” You didn’t want to straight up lie to him now that he was asking.

“Does that mean I can call him daddy?” He asked sweetly.

Swallowing, you shrugged. “We’ll have to ask him, but you can’t be upset if he wants you to keep calling him Dean, okay?” You wanted to slap Dean upside the head for talking about this where Danny could hear him.

Danny nodded. “Why wouldn’t he want me to? Doesn’t he like me? Why hasn’t he been my daddy before?” He sounded sad.

You were not ready for this. You currently felt like saying a bad word. “He loves you.” You heard John tell him. “Want me to get him for you?” He offered.

“Please. Tell him we’ll be in my backyard.” You lifted Danny, holding him close as you carried him to the back. This was happening so much faster than you’d thought it would. As soon as you were in your backyard, you sat down in a chair. “Dean was working hard, and mommy was in school.” You started. “And before you were born we had a big fight, and it took a long time for us to not be mad.” That was honestly the best way you could put it. It wasn’t a lie, but was a much softer version.

You shot Dean a glare when he walked into the backyard. “It’s not my fault.” He started, holding his hands up. “He snuck up on me.” He defended himself.

Your glare faded and you sighed. “I know it’s not your fault.” You rubbed Danny’s back. “I just wasn’t expecting to come back to get asked by him if you’re his father, if he can call you daddy, and then when I said he’d have to ask you…he asked ‘why wouldn’t he want me to?’, ‘doesn’t he like me?’, and ‘why hasn’t he been my daddy before?’.” You leaned your cheek on the top of Danny’s head. “I was just taken by surprise. I told him that you were working, I was in school, and we had a really big fight and it took a long time for us to not be mad.”

Dean moved closer and sat on the chair next to you. “Danny?” He got the little boy’s attention, smiling when he looked over at him. “Your mom’s right. We had a fight and were mad at each other, but I’m here now. If you want to call me daddy, you can. But if you want to keep calling me Dean, that’s okay, too.” He assured him.

Danny perked up, wiggling off your lap, to run to hug Dean. “I wanna call you daddy!” He said happily.

You watched, tears in your eyes. “Hey, Danny? Why do you go ask Grandpa if we can order pizza for dinner?” You suggested.

“Can daddy stay for dinner?” He asked, hopeful.

“Sure.” You nodded.

“Okay!” He happily ran to the backdoor, disappearing inside.

Looking at Dean, you let out a sigh. “Hurt him and I’ll be the one arrested for assault.” You warned him. “But…prove to me you’re going to be the best father he can be before his next birthday, and I’ll put you on his birth certificate.” You felt both options were fair.

“I have a feeling you’d make sure I was never found.” He shook his head. “And his birthday is Valentine’s Day, right?” He asked.

“Yup.” You smiled softly, turning to the door when you heard it open. “Pizza for dinner?” You asked Danny as he came out.

“Yeah, he’s going to ask Grandpa what he wants so he can come eat dinner, too.” He told you before going to play with his little soccer ball.

Dean’s court date was a week after Danny found out about him being his father. Which made it that much harder when you got told that Dean would be serving 30 days in jail. You had a restraining order against Mitchell, and Mitchell had one against Dean. You’d dealt with the legal system more in the past couple weeks than you had your entire life. To lessen the blow, you’d taken Danny out for ice cream. Sitting across from him in the ice cream parlor, you watched him for a moment. “Danny?”

“Yeah?” He looked up from his bowl of ice cream.

“You know how you’ve been really liking having your daddy around?” You asked, earning a nod. “Well, we’re not going to be seeing him again for a month. He got into trouble and has to go to a really long time out.”

He gasped. “That’s a long time out!” His eyes were wide. “I’m going to miss him.” He sagged.

“I know, baby.” Danny always looked forward to spending time with Dean. “How about we make him a lot of pictures for when he comes home? So he knows how much you were thinking of him?” You suggested. “After this we can go get lots of craft stuff at the store.” Part of this felt like you were bribing your five year old, but if this helped him cope with Dean being gone…so be it.

“Okay!” He agreed. “I’ll make him a picture of the Impala.”

You chuckled lightly at that. “He’ll love that.”

You had a small bin of pictures for Dean for when he came home. It would be any day now, and you also planned to buy him a pie. You’d attempted to learn to make one, but you decided it was a better idea to trust the professionals. The local bakery was good enough!

Your dad was watching Danny while you were at work and John went to get Dean from jail. You got a part time job working at the grocery store as a cashier, and while it wasn’t the best job, it was a job. Your goal was to move out of your dads in the next couple months, before Danny started school.

Getting home that day, you made your way inside and smiled when you heard Danny, your dad, Dean, and John goofing off in the living room. Danny’s laughter turned to a squeal laugh, making you chuckle. You moved to lean on the living room door frame, bag with the pie in hand. “Welcome home, Dean.” You smiled.

He grinned at you. “It’s good to be home, sweetheart.”

“I come bearing gifts.” You held up the bag.

“Grandpa says we’re gonna go out to eat to celebrate daddy being home.” Danny told you. He was on Dean’s back, holding on to him.

“Then, I guess I’ll put this in the fridge and then go change. Do I have time to shower?” You hoped you did.

John nodded. “Of course.” They were in no rush.

Dean carried Danny out of the diner, Danny’s head resting on Dean’s shoulder. He yawned, making you chuckle. “Can I have a sleepover with Daddy?” He asked.

“That’s up to him, baby.” You told him. “Why don’t you plan for a night you can play a couple board games or something? You’ll be asleep before we get home.”

“So? He can sleep on the floor in my room and we can play in the morning.” He countered.

“Can’t fault his logic. That’s what we used to do.” Dean told you. “I don’t mind sleeping on his bedroom floor if that makes him happy.”

Your dad and John hung back a bit, watching the pair of you. “I bet you they’re together within a year.” Your dad said to him, low enough you couldn’t hear.

John chuckled. “I give it 6 months.” He countered.

“I don’t know. Mitchell did a number on her, and she still doesn’t fully trust Dean.” He pointed out. “It’s gonna take her time to get through everything, and I can’t blame her.”

He nodded at that. “True. I think him beating the shit out of Mitchell helped. So is how he’s taken to Danny, and how Danny has taken to him.” They both knew Danny was the most important part of your life.

“So, see you at my house after you get some clothes? I can warm up your pie.” You offered as Dean put Danny in his booster seat.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way over.”

John was the first to pull out of the parking lot, followed by your father. You were next, and finally Dean. Dean headed in the opposite direction, wanting to grab something at the store first.

You’d gotten Danny’s teeth brushed after he changed into his pjs (with some help, he was so tired), and then gotten him tucked in. You were worried that you still didn’t have a text from Dean. Had he changed his mind?

Running a hand through your hair, you took the hamper of dirty laundry from his room and went to get yours. If Dean wasn’t going to come over, you might as well get something productive done. “Dad, do you have any laundry?” You knocked on your father’s door where he went to read.

He opened it and shook his head. “No, and you should relax.” He told you.

“Putting a load of laundry in isn’t exactly stressful. If anything, it’s the least stressful household chore. I can put it in, and forget about it while it does its thing.” You pointed out.

“Promise to relax while it ‘does its thing’?”

“Yes, dad.” You chuckled.

“Good.” He kissed your forehead.

You’d just turned the washing machine on when Dean finally texted you. Coming over now :)

Sighing, you went to meet him at the front door. “I was starting to think you bailed.” You told him as he got closer.

“Sorry, I had to make a stop at the store and got distracted.” He chuckled, pulling flowers out from behind his back. “A thanks for letting me be there for Danny.”

Blushing, you took them. “Oh, wow. Thank you. You didn’t have to.” You told him as you let him in. “You got distracted in the flower section of the store?” You teased.

He chuckled, shutting the door. “Uh, no. I went to the toy department. Wanted to get him something, but then realized I couldn’t decide on what. There were board games, card games, summer toys, cars…So many toys.”

You giggled at that. “What did you decide on?”

“I got us some summer toys.” He told you as you put the flowers in the biggest cup you could find, and made a note to get you a vase. “I got super soakers and a sprinkler thing for now.” He set the bags of plastic goodies on the counter. “Figured it’s been warm enough out, so might as well get something to cool off with.” He sounded a lot like a proud kid, which was adorable.

“He’ll love that. You two will have a lot of fun.” “Two? Sweetheart, I bought five super soakers.” He grinned. “We’re all gonna have a good summer.”

You raised an eyebrow, an amused look on your face. “We didn’t have super soakers as kids, so you’re living through our son, aren’t you?” You teased.

“...I may have asked my dad for one every summer until I was 12.” He admitted, making you chuckle. “But! I believe I was promised pie.”

“Let me heat it up.” You chuckled. “Dork.”

Tagging: @s0urw00lf

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dad!dean

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crazyk-imagine · 1 year ago

Text

Blast to the Past

Pairing: Leonard "Wolfman" Wolfe x Wife!reader

Characters: Wife!reader. Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Nick “Goose” Bradshaw, Robert "Bob" Floyd

Briefly mentioned: Carol Bradshaw, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, Ron “Slider” Kerner, Rick “Hollywood” Neven, Marcus “Sundown” Williams, Sam “Merlin” Wells, Charles “Chipper” Piper

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of the 86' squad, reader is still involved with Top Gun, mav and reader are besties, everyone still talks to one another, wolfman is a simp for his wife, wolfman and reader are lowkey hella cute, bradley remembering reader hanging out when he was a kid, reader teasing mav, reader thinking of hangman as mini mav, Bob being the reader's fav, Wolfman loves gossiping with his wife, this is lowkey gives off kicking your feet vibes

Word Count: 1,070

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

The text from Beau was not the one you were expecting.

Admiral Jackass

"You've been called back." Sent Read 1:02pm

Admiral Jackass typing…

You're one stop away from making dreams happen again, you shiver with anticipation and take a deep breath, thinking back to your favorite group of students when they were younger.

At that point, it was within the early years of your teaching career.

After the class of 86' you didn't teach as often but when there was an important mission or the admiral's needed someone they knew could get the lieutenants properly trained, they called you.

You take a deep breath, walking down the hallway, realizing you've missed the feeling you (still) get walking down the halls towards your next group of lieutenants.

You walk down the pathway in between the desks much like you did when you taught his class.

Another reason for the text, he's late and Beau wants them to learn now.

You turn and eye each of the lieutenants, seeing who's confident and who's not. Something else you were known for, identifying the weak and making them stronger if they're up for it.

It was how you got him back when he lost his family.

They don't call you "Sly Fox" the Modifier for nothing (you wish your husband didn't get that started, it's stuck and you can't get rid of it).

The corner of your lips twitch, remembering more of your infamous class of 86' only because of the overly confident blond sitting in one of the first few seats.

You lean against the podium, clasping your hands together. "Who thinks they have what it takes for this mission?"

They start turning, glancing at one another.

"Do you?" You turn your attention onto the infamous Hangman.

He smirks, messing with his toothpick. "I don't think, I know I do."

"Cockiness gets you and your crew into some seedy situations."

"It get me out of them."

The door opens and your favorite captain enters.

You straighten your posture and turn back to him. "These people are you crew, you need to have their backs, or no one will have yours and you'll be alone."

He walks down the path you and uses the confidence you told him to.

The one you've claimed as "Mini Mav" turns, flipping his toothpick before sinking into his seat, followed by two others.

"It seems it's my time to leave." You throw a wink in Pete's direction before walking towards the opening.

You didn't see the way Bradley's eyes widened at the way you interact with him.

He has a vague memory of you hanging out with his family once or twice and calling his mom after losing his dad.

"Don't have too much fun, Mav." You pat his shoulder, "you've got a live one."

He furrows his brows.

You glance back at the class once more before deciding to take your leave. "Good to see you again, Bob."

He smiles and waves back at you.

Natasha turns to him with furrowed brows. "How do you know her?"

He shrugs, "she taught my first class a while back."

"She remembers your name?"

"And," he shrugs.

"You were so her favorite."

You make your way to the opening of the hanger and sigh, "I told you guys to- no, no."

You pinch the bridge of your nose and groan.

One of the technicians runs back into the hanger tripping over his feet.

You pull up beside him on one of the carts. "I told you not to run. I wasn't upset."

"I beg to differ ma'am."

You grab them by their collar. "I'm going to show you a thing or two. I was trying to help you."

You drive back out without looking back, already knowing that Beau is shaking his head while Pete and the class are trying not to laugh.

"Do you get it now?"

He nods. "That wasn't as complicated as I thought."

"Good, now do it again to this row." You can see the excitement fall from his face and can't help but chuckle.

"No, kid. She's just messing with you." You husband wraps an arm around your waist, pecking your cheek as he places his hat on your head. "Hey, sweetheart."

You smile and lean in for a kiss, having missed him with the grandkids out at school and spending more time with their friends since they're starting to get more freedom from their parents now that they've proven themselves responsible.

"Feels like I haven't seen you in forever."

He smiles, "feels like it's been forever."

"It has. What brought you out here?"

"A little birdie told me you might be maiming one of the techs."

You scoff, "as if."

You both turn to the technician and finding him staring at the two of you in awe. "Holy- Wolfman and Sly Fox are married?"

"Where have you been?" Leonard asks.

"Under a rock apparently."

You snort, covering your mouth. "Alright, we'll talk more later. Get to work before Cyclone comes for you."

"Yes, ma'am."

You two start walking away and head towards the hanger.

You glance at him through your lashes, grateful he put his hat on your head. "You're not gonna believe who's teaching and in his class."

He groans. "Don't tell me, Mav's here."

You nod. "Along with baby Goose."

"Nick's kid is here?"

You nod, pulling him behind you.

You both turn the corner, searching over the hanger for the one person you want him to see.

Pete turns to you and pauses, raising a brow.

You sheepishly smile and pull your husband away from the hanger.

"He looks just like him, don't you think?"

"Mustache and all. Damn."

"What?" You stare at him, watching him get dressed.

"Goose would have loved this."

The corner of your lips tugs upwards. "I know." A wishful sigh slips past your lips. "You'll never guess what I discovered in their class."

"What?" He asks with amusement.

"Don't be a smartass."

"Hey, you married me in spite of it."

"Yes, yes. Whatever. Mav has a mini Maverick."

"Mav produced?"

You scoff, "no but there's a kid just like him."

"That's less fun than him teaching his own kid."

"He's got baby Goose for that."

"True." He closes the locker, "you ready?"

You all but run into his arms, letting his arm rest over your shoulders. "Take me home, honey."

"As long as you'll have me."

Tag list:

@kmc1989 @callmemana @blueoorchid

126 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 2 years ago

Text

Lavender - Ch. 34

You and Joel reconnect. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-33 found on Tumblr here.

Sorry for the Narcos gif guysssss

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: SMUT (fingering, unprotected P in V sex BE SMART PEEPS), mention of suicide. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 4.8k

“We need to find some place to sit this out,” Joel frowned, looking up toward the sky.

Something that came along with living in Texas was being able to read when a bad storm was rolling in. It wasn’t a skill he’d kept up in Boston - the climate was so different, he didn’t need to. But this part of the country was different. It was too cool for tornadoes, at least, but it didn’t take a twister to do some serious damage.

The dark clouds had been hanging overhead for hours and Joel had been watching them mount, their heavy, bulbous hangings sinking lower and lower in the sky. It was starting to get dark - too cloudy to properly see the sunset - and there was the distinctive, constant rumble of thunder in the distance.

“There’s not going to be much out this way,” you frowned. “It’s been a while since we saw much of anything…”

Ellie kicked a chunk of asphalt on the street, the scraping of it melding with the sound of distant thunder.

She hadn’t said much since you’d left Kansas City that morning. Joel dug shallow graves for Henry and Sam, lowering their bodies into the earth with a sickening sense of finality. He looked at Henry for a moment before he started to cover him in dirt. The wound on his head was where Joel’s scar lay. If things had gone the way he’d meant to that day, if it hadn’t been for your voice in his head…

“I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.”

If he thought about it for even a moment he could hear you clearly. He wondered if that was still true, if you still loved him. If he could win you back if you didn’t.

When he’d covered their bodies, you brought Ellie out of the motel. The girl put Sam’s writing pad on top of his grave, the words “I’m sorry” written on it.

“I tried to save him,” she said softly. “He… he showed me his bite and I thought maybe my blood…”

“Oh sweetheart,” you brushed her hair back and pulled her into your chest. “It doesn’t work that way, I’m so sorry.”

“It just…” she peered over your arm, down to the graves. “It felt like I should have been able to save him…”

You stepped back from her and met her gaze.

“You don’t need to save anybody but yourself,” you said. “It doesn’t matter if you’re immune or not. Saving people isn’t your job. It’s not what you’re here to do. You haven’t failed if someone gets hurt, OK?”

She nodded once before looking back at the graves for a moment and taking a deep, shaky breath.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said.

She hadn’t said much since. Joel was starting to miss the puns.

“Seen some cuts in off the road last bit,” Joel said, gesturing at the tree line. “They’re a bit grown over but probably get to hunting cabins and shit, we can follow the next one.”

There was another offshoot from the main road less than a mile up. Joel almost missed it, the gravel path so overgrown that it was almost entirely hidden. There was a wooden signpost inside some of the brush, the paint faded with moss growing over the raised letters: The MITCHELL cabin.

“So people used to have more than one house,” Ellie said, sounding skeptical as the three of you followed the remains of the drive. “Enough that people needed signs.”

“Yup,” your hands were looped through the straps of your bag. “Lots of people, actually. I had a friend in college whose parents had a beach house AND a hunting cabin on top of their regular house.”

“Same friend with the kid who you went to the space center with and shit?” Ellie asked, looking up at you.

Joel froze and you glanced back at him over your shoulder before looking back to Ellie.

“No, different friend,” you said. “Believe it or not, I had two. Pretty much just two, though.”

You’d told Ellie about Sarah. Maybe not by name - she clearly didn’t know it was at all tied to Joel. But she knew about Sarah. You’d talked about her, sometime before this trip. About the things you’d done together. You’d talked about her and him and your life together like it was something you remembered fondly, something that was on your mind. Something that was worth sharing.

He kept walking.

“Did you have more than one house?” She asked.

“No,” you laughed. “No, I didn’t even have one, really. My grandmother did, I just lived there. And she just had the one.”

She nodded along, like she was taking the snippets of information you’d given her and filing them away somewhere, keeping a running log of what life was like before the world ended. It was strange, her longing for this world she’d never seen. Her drive to want to return to something she didn’t know.

The cabin was bigger than Joel had expected, more of a vacation house than a true cabin. It was two stories, probably about the size of his house in Texas all told. He doubted anyone had been in it in 20 years. A tree had started to grow through the front deck, the trunk splitting the boards that had become covered in mildew and lichen.

But the windows and doors were all intact, things inside undisturbed. The air was stale and damp but it could be worse.

Joel took a quick look through the place just to be sure before finding the two of you sitting around the kitchen table.

“Anything bad in here?” Ellie asked as you pulled food out from your bag.

“Just you,” he smiled a little. She rolled her eyes but he could have sworn he saw her smile a bit back.

“Three bedrooms upstairs,” he said, setting the lantern out. “One at the back’s got a leaky roof. One down here. Looks like there might be some clothes and things. Sheets and blankets that don’t look moldy.”

“Apparently all we had to do to find a good place to stay for a few days was wander the woods in the midwest,” you said. “Who knew.”

“Kid, you take one of the rooms upstairs,” he said. “We’ll be down here, just in case someone does show up.”

After eating, you gave Ellie a book from your bag and she curled up in the corner of the dusty couch while Joel inspected the fireplace, opening the flue and clearing it. The thunder was getting closer.

“I’m going to find dry wood while I can,” he said. “Stay put.”

The distance made him anxious. Not that he went far, but it was getting dark. With his deaf ear, the sounds of the forest and the worsening thunder, he wasn’t sure he’d hear you or Ellie if you screamed. He missed the days of cell phones, when he could have just expected you to call if something happened. It was hard to focus on much else, not certain that the two of you were safe.

When he got back, you were on the couch, reading something on your lap by candlelight.

“Ellie has the lantern,” you said by way of greeting. “What’s it looking like out there?”

“Storm should be here any minute,” he said. “Might be good to stay here tomorrow, too. Just… after everything.”

“No clickers or anything?” You asked.

“Far enough out, should be safe,” he replied. “And no one’d found this place before us, should be off the radar of anyone else.”

“So we can actually breathe without someone trying to kill us?” You asked. “What a strange concept…”

He just smiled a bit while he built a fire, glancing back at you every so often to see the candlelight catching on your hair. You started absently humming something and he frowned.

“Is that Fast Car?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“You’re humming,” he said. “Fast Car?”

“Oh,” you smiled a bit. “Yeah, sorry, it’s been stuck in my head for a few days…”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “Just… haven’t heard it in a while.”

He wondered if you were thinking of him playing it on the guitar by the pool on a summer night, back when things were normal. When he took you to bed that night, he moved slow inside you, your soft sounds catching on your throat when you came.

“I’m going to check on Ellie,” you said, putting the book down heading up stairs.

Joel stared into the fire, watching as the wood was consumed. The thunder was close now, the storm almost upon you. He could feel the shift in air pressure when he was outside, the swollen clouds overwrought and ready to burst.

“And she’s out,” you said, carrying an armload of blankets and pillows. “Why is it so relieving when you know a kid is asleep?” You set the linens on the floor next to the couch and sat beside them. “It’s not like she’s a toddler or that we need to keep her from getting into things she shouldn’t. Except maybe the guns… But hell, she’s a teenager and we don’t have to worry about her sneaking out! But it’s still so nice to know that she’s asleep.”

“See how long that lasts,” he said as a rumble of thunder shook the house.

“Well, I gave her a sleeping pill,” you winced a little as you said it. “There were some left at the pharmacy in Lincoln. She’s seen enough today, she needs to sleep, it seems safe here… figured it was the time to use one.”

He nodded slowly. He was a little jealous that someone would be able to sleep that deeply. He hadn’t. Not in years.

You started spreading blankets out on the floor, near the fire.

“Figured we could have some padding for the damn sleeping bags if we need to be near the door,” you said. “Nice change from just the ground.”

You settled on the small nest you’d made facing the fire, your legs pulled into your chest, arms around your knees. Joel just watched you for a moment, your eyes reflecting the flicker of the fire, the curve of your neck, the barest hint of cleavage visible behind your button down shirt. You took down your hair, unwinding it from the braids, running your fingers through the curls that had formed in it until it hung loose and wild around you.

Fuck, he missed you. Missed touching you, tasting you, knowing you in a way no one else got to know you. He missed being the keeper of the things that were otherwise yours alone. The sounds you made when you were lost in pleasure, the way you twitched in your sleep, the expressions you made when deciding what to wear when getting dressed in the morning. It was like he’d become a museum of these things about you, things that he didn’t know what to do with now. But he couldn’t bear to lose them.

He moved closer to you, sitting close enough beside you that his arm brushed yours. You smiled a little at him. He hoped it would help, being closer to you. That it would ease this ache inside him. That something, anything, would provide some relief.

“How are you doing?” You asked after a moment.

Longing? Needy? Missing what he’d fucked up with you so much it hurt?

“Fine,” he shrugged.

“You sure?” You asked, twisting a little to look at him. Your brows were drawn together. “I’m not trying to pry, I just… I’m worried.”

He was close to you, so close to you. But the ache was worse, growing into something hot and demanding.

“Don’t want you to worry,” he said, his voice rough. He was leaning into you. He wasn’t meaning to, he wasn’t thinking about it, there was something in him just pulling him into your orbit. It was like gravity, not something he could deny or fight against. And he was having a hard time caring.

“Joel,” you said softly. The fire in him was spreading, from the center of him, through his limbs, his fingers, threatening to swallow him whole until he was nothing but ash at your feet.

His hand went to your face moving slowly, gently. Like he would an animal he didn’t want to startle. His fingers slipped into your hair. Your skin was soft and smooth below his palm and his lips brushed yours for half a moment before he kissed you.

You felt just like he remembered and he hadn’t realized how much he’d immortalized you in his mind until that moment, your lips moving against his own, your breaths coming in short, soft pants against him as he adjusted his body to be against yours.

But you pulled back from him, still so close that your lips brushed his own when you spoke.

“I can’t do this with you, Joel,” you whispered. “I can’t…”

You pulled back from him, slipping away from his hand, his touch. You looked like you were in pain.

“Baby,” he whispered back but you just shook your head.

“No,” you said. “I can’t… I just… I can’t.”

You got up and went for the door, leaving him on the floor behind you.

***

Your head was spinning, your chest tight. The air outside was thick and the thunder was loud enough that you could feel it in your bones. You fought to not cry as you stood outside the cabin, looking up at the trees and the clouds overhead.

It took everything you had to not go in there and jump on the chance that Joel was giving you. You wanted it - you wanted him - so bad it hurt. You’d never wanted anything more than you wanted him and he was there. So close. But he would destroy you, you knew that now. Shred you from the inside out until there was nothing of yourself left to try to save. You couldn’t do that, not anymore.

“Can’t do what,” he followed you out of the house and you closed your eyes and sighed.

“Joel,” you turned to face him, keeping your eyes closed.

“What can’t you do?” He asked, his voice calm. You opened your eyes and he was so close to you, so close you would hardly need to move to kiss him again.

God, kissing him…

“I can’t…” you crossed your arms over your chest to keep yourself from touching him. Your voice caught on your throat. “I can’t…”

“Baby,” he reached for you again but you pulled back and, suddenly, the driving, throbbing want shifted to something else entirely.

Why did he think he could just do this? Why did he think he could just touch you? Have you? Whenever he wanted?

“I can’t be the vessel that you use to work your shit out with, Joel!” You snapped. “I can’t do it, I can’t let you keep doing that to me it hurts too goddamn much and…”

“That’s not what this Is,” he said softly. “That’s not…”

“You and I both know that’s what this is,” tears stung at your eyes. “And I understand that you’re going through a lot, that you miss Tess, that you’re hurting because of…”

“No,” he shook his head. “No that’s not…”

“Yes, it is!” You said. “This is what we do, you and me. I fawn over you like some stupid little girl and you use me for whatever it is that you feel like you need and you throw me away when you’re done with me and I can’t fucking do that again, Joel, I can’t do it!”

“It’s never been…”

“When hasn’t it been that way?” You demanded. “When? The first time you fucked me after I practically threw myself at you like an idiot and then you ignored me for weeks? Was it when you broke up with me over the phone because I wasn’t worth the trouble anymore? How about when you blamed me for the worst thing that ever happened to you and told me you wished you never met me?

“Every time, every fucking time you want me I give in to you and then you put me down and I just sit there, like some broken toy, waiting for you to come back and I can’t do that anymore!”

There was a crack of thunder and the lightning was bright enough that you could see the pain on Joel’s face. His eyes were searching your own, desperate and sad.

“You think that’s all you are to me?” He asked quietly. “That you’re something that I use and throw away?”

You held his gaze and squared your jaw. He stepped closer, so close that your bodies were touching.

“I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you existed…” he said. You shook your head and bit your lip and tried to keep yourself from crying. “I never wanted to leave you but I was watching you give up things that you should have had, that you were good enough and smart enough to have. I was seeing you give up shit that you deserved because of me and I couldn’t let you put yourself on hold for me! I couldn’t be the thing that fucked your life up, I loved you too fucking much to be the thing that fucked your life up…”

“I watched you be with someone else for 15 years, Joel!” You choked it out. “You…”

“I was scared!” He said, all but yelling it. “I was fucking terrified!”

“Terrified of what!”

“Of not being able to survive if I lost you!” He was panting for breath. The thunder rolled and a fat raindrop landed on your forehead. He took a deep, shaky breath. “I couldn’t… What happened today, with Henry… The only reason I’m alive today is because of you.”

“What?” You breathed, your eyebrows knitting together.

“No one tried to shoot me,” he said. His voice trembled. “The scar… I’m the one who missed. It was the day after the outbreak and Sarah… We’d passed so many bodies, it didn’t seem like you could have survived and it felt… it felt like you were gone. Without her, without you it just… There wasn’t a point to any of it…”

“Joel,” you reached for him, your hand touching his face, your fingers finding the scar at his temple. He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch.

“When I tried,” he said. “When… when I pulled the trigger, I heard your voice in my head. What you said to me when… when I left you. It was like you were right fucking next to me and it… I flinched. Because some part of me knew you were out there somewhere. That life could be worth it again someday if I could just fucking get to you.

“But being with you again…” He closed his eyes. Rain was falling harder, faster. “Fuck, Baby, it was all I wanted but I was scared, I was so scared all the fucking time. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t… I knew that if something happened to you that I wouldn’t survive it and I couldn’t live with it. I couldn’t do it, that’s why I left, why I pushed you away. I was too weak, I was too… I was too afraid to love anything the way I loved you. The way I still love you. I tried to stop it, I tried to push you far enough away that I’d survive it but I can’t, I can’t stop… Loving you feels like all I know how to fucking do and I can’t try to keep myself from doing it anymore. I can’t keep doing it from afar, I can’t keep trying to keep you safe from arm’s length, I can’t live like this anymore.

“I know I’ve hurt you,” he said quietly. “I know that I don’t deserve to ask you for a goddamn thing. But I… Please. Let me love you. Let me try to get it right this time.”

The rain was falling and you could barely feel it, even though you knew it was soaking you. All you could feel was him, how close he was, how it was like he’d broken open all your defenses.

“I can’t handle you leaving me again,” you managed. Your hand was still on his face. “I can’t…”

“I won’t,” he breathed. “I know you have no reason to trust me but I will never leave you, never. I can’t…”

You kissed him. You couldn’t help it anymore, not when he was this close to you, not when he was offering you the only thing it felt like you’d ever really wanted.

His hands went to your face, twisting in your hair, cupping the arch of your neck, pulling you closer against him as the heavens opened and sheets of rain poured down.

He pulled back from you ever so slightly.

“We should go inside,” he said, your body cradled against his. You only nodded.

You barely made it in the door and Joel was tugging at the buttons of your shirt, fumbling with them until he was sliding the wet fabric down your arms and onto the floor, his mouth on your own. You pulled at his back, trying to not pop the buttons while getting to his skin as quickly as you could, eventually shoving the sleeves down his arms and exposing the smooth, tan skin of his chest, the softness of his stomach.

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he breathed, his lips trailing down your jaw to your throat, his big, warm hands splaying over back, pulling you tightly against him.

“I’ve missed you,” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his lush hair, pressing your lips into his chest. “I’ve missed you so much…”

His mouth traveled back to yours, his tongue slipping into you. You were breathing the same air as him, he was everywhere around you, the only thing you could feel, the only thing that you wanted to feel.

“Need you,” he groaned against your lips as he unclasped your bra. “Need to feel you, need to be inside you…”

“Joel,” you ran your hands over his back, his bared skin, feeling him, feeling like coming back home after years away. His hands slipped around to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them before hiking your leg over his hip. His hard length was pressed against your center and it was like a shock ran through you, a hunger inside you that you hadn’t felt since he last touched you.

Everything else paled in comparison, the overwhelming need clawing and ripping to get to him, to make him a part of you and you a part of him. You wanted him more than you wanted anything else, wanted him more than food or water or air.

He moved you to the couch and lowered you onto it, dropping on his knees in front of you. He pulled himself away from you enough to slide your pants and underwear down your body, casting them aside before he ran his hands up the inside of your bare thighs as you panted for breath.

It was exposing, the intimacy of him looking at you, his eyes roving over your naked body, lingering on your wet slit. You fought the urge to squirm, to shift and hide. He reverently slid his hands along your thighs, meeting at the apex of your legs. He gently, softly ran his thumbs over you until they met at your clit making you whimper.

“Fucking beautiful,” he slipped a thumb between your lower lips, slipping closer to your entrance. “Most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen…”

He left one hand against you as the other one slipped around to your lower back and tugged you closer, sliding your body to the edge of the couch, pressing his lips against yours again.

His kiss was harsh, starving, like he was going to devour you. As though he hadn’t already consumed you, swallowed everything you were.

He slipped his thumb up to your clit and pressed one finger into you, opening you for him so slowly it was almost painful. You moaned into his mouth and his finger hooked up into your inner wall into the spot that made you melt, the place inside you that felt like belonged to him and him alone.

“Need you,” you were panting, your body tightening around him.

“I know Baby,” he said softly, sinking another finger inside you. “Need to make you cum first…”

His thumb worked your clit, his fingers stretching you open, his other hand making you arch into his body, his tongue plundering your mouth. You were full of him, surrounded by him and you couldn’t get enough of him. Your whole body was tensing around him, tightening like a spring until you came and he swallowed your gasping moan.

The second you felt like you were in control of your body again, you reached for his pants, desperate to get him naked. You needed more of him, you had to feel more of him. He helped you, sliding his jeans and underwear down and off. You separated from him enough to look at him again.

It had been so long it was like seeing him for the first time. If you had to pick a favorite color, you were torn if it would be the color of his eyes or the color of his skin, the rich, golden tan of him. He was softer now than he had been before but his chest and arms were still firm and strong and you wanted nothing more than to be held against his chest in his arms. And his cock…

Joel had always been the best you’d ever had and the biggest. There were parts of you that no one but him had touched, his length thick and hard and dripping. Your body ached for it.

You swallowed, your heart thudding against your ribs as you looked up at him. He trailed his nose along your throat to your ear.

“I won’t hurt you again,” he breathed. “Never going to leave you again…”

He pulled you tightly against him and pulled you to the floor, laying you down in front of the fire on the blankets. Joel delicately ran his fingers over your tender sex, making you moan, collecting your wetness and covering himself in you before notching himself at your entrance.

He settled himself between your legs, the weight of him pressing into your hips, your stomach, his arms caging you in, fingers in your hair.

“I love you,” you breathed as he sank into you, his cock opening you up, your body taking him into you until he was fully inside you. His forehead dropped to yours as he panted for breath, giving you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Fuck, I love you,” he managed, gasping and desperate. “Feels so good, so fucking good…”

He kissed you again before moving in you. It was slow at first, aching and desperate. Like every ounce of pain, every moment of being without him was being worked out where your bodies were joined. He reached the end of you with every thrust, the head of him pressing against your back wall so hard there was a twinge of pain to it, pain you welcomed because it meant you were full of him.

You worked your hips back up against his and he picked up the pace as he kissed down your jaw to your throat, your breasts, taking a nipple delicately in his mouth, brushing his teeth over the tender nub.

“Joel,” you panted, your body tightening around him again, drawing in so much that it felt almost impossible for it to build any more. “Please…”

He released your nipple and kissed you again, his tongue fucking into your mouth the same way he was your pussy.

“Never letting you go,” his voice was frantic, desperate, his hips pressing hard and deep into you with almost bruising strength. “Never going to hurt you again, never… fuck, I love you, love you…”

Thunder shook the house and you cried out as you came, your walls clamping around him. He thrust into you twice more before he plunged as deep into you as he could and came undone, spilling into you as you gripped him tight.

He collapsed on top of you, still inside you, both of you panting for breath. Joel reverently ran a finger along your hairline before threading his hand into your hair, tilting your head to kiss you gently.

“You’re staying,” you said it, didn’t ask it. You felt it this time.

“Never leaving,” he breathed. “Never leaving you again.”

A/N: OHMYGOD WE FINALLY GOT HERE JFC. Yes you can get attached, they're together now, this is sticking, you can feel safe with these two idiots in love. I hope this at least somewhat lived up to the hype and the build up and that you're feeling somewhat satisfied! If not, there will be a fair bit more smutty bits from here onwards because obvs.

I do have a taglist, please let me know if you want to be added by commenting below!

Thank you thank you THANK YOU for sticking with this story! I know it's been a while since the main couple has been together (like 20 chapters???) and that probably wasn't what you bargained for getting into a fic like this so I'm thrilled that you're here and invested and reading. I love you all, thank you for making this such a joy to share!

Taglist: @paleidiot @ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel @drewharrisonwriter @flugazi @pedropascalsbbg @taoyuji @starstruckmusiciansartghost @splendsay @bigboiseason123 @jpbplvr@ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10 @sloanexx @ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings @arizonadaydreamer @mumma-moonchild @blackroseguzzi @candypeaches16 @kittenlittle24 @wrappedinfiction @oatmeaiboy @pedritosdarling @winchestergypsy90 @imnotdatboii @lalalalemonade11 @maknimuk1 @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes. @pedrosaidsheispunk @commanderawkward @n7cje @elliesgirlll @tsunamistorm123 @spookyxsam @leeeesahhh

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic

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