#tom cruise imagines
Text
“You forgot I was young, once?” — Tom Cruise +18
Summary: You teased Tom for being old, you joked how his knees would crush if you were to ask him to eat you out. Tom felt belittled, challenged, so he wants to prove you wrong.
Tags: No plot, pure Smut, oral f/receiving, FingerFuck, Squirting, the use of a word “kitten”, Agegap (Reader is 26, Tom is 59) THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION AND +18 READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
tagging: @deanscroissant @tomsf18 @moondustfairies @helloitstsyu @call-sign-shark @love2write2626 @back-tooo-black
"What are you saying, baby?”
“Nothing.” You bit your lip with a sly smirk.
“Oh, you were saying something. Something about how I couldn’t give it to you just enough? Are you testing me?”
You and Tom had just started dating. You both wanted to take it slow, means… You haven’t done anything. You’re a young blood, while as dramatic as it would sound, he’s lived a lot of life. Being a young blood, means being a kid. You love teasing him about his age, about his stamina, that ends up with him challenging you to do some workouts with him at the Gym in his house.
But this time? It’s different.
Tom have been thinking about this comeback for a while. He understands how he has a jokester of a girlfriend, but sometimes… He just wants you to shut you mouth with something.
“Well… I know for a fact, that after you’re giving it to me goooodd… You’re gonna be falling asleep on my boobs.” You teased.
“And, no offense babe.. Don’t you think you will crush your knees if you do went down on me?”
You watched as Tom suddenly gets down on his knees in front of you, you were taken aback by his reaction but the smirk never leaving your face as for Tom, he’s looking at you with an expression that says you are unbelievable and you’re going to regret it.
Tom didn’t waste any more time and thank god you were wearing a pleated white skirt that he likes so it gave him easy access. His hands went to caress your shaven and smooth legs, eyes never leaving yours before he put his soft lips against your leg. He left kisses up from your legs to your knees, grazing your skin a little bit with his tongue.
“What are you doing, Tommy?” You gulped, trying to keep your cool.
Tom didn’t answer instead he kept his eyes on you and proceed giving you kisses. Your legs were pressed against each other though soon Tom slowly spread them, drawing the hem of your skirt up to your thighs as it is a little too short. Tom continued to give you kisses but this time its on your thighs. His thumbs pressing on each thighs while he leaves kisses on top of it.
Your favorite kind of affection to receive, is when someone gave your thighs full of attention and love. That is why you’re sitting there with your nails digging into the palm of your hands, your bottom lip tugged by your teeth. You could feel yourself getting soaked as it started to pool in your panties, soon you felt Tom’s breath getting closer and closer towards what you need the most.
You whimpered, and that made Tom halted his movements and looks at you from his lashes with a raised eyebrow. A smirk slowly showed on his face before he pushed himself slightly upwards just on top of your tummy.
“What’s wrong, sweets?” Tom slightly tipped his head to the side. “Did I do something wrong?”
“N-nothing..”
“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” Tom smirked before he hunched your skirt up to your waist and rip your panties off from your hips. You gasp at the sound of your favorite navy blue panties being torn, you and your smart mouth was about to protest but before you could even do that, Tom shoved his mouth towards your glistening pussy. His tongue teases your clit, before it goes on to play around your pussy lips.
“Ohhhh…” You moaned, throwing your head back against the cushion. Tom could feel the way your pussy throbs, needing more attention. Of course, he would never stop. He wouldn’t stop proving a point. You whimpered when you felt his finger tease your hole, without further a do, Tom shoved his finger inside your cunt—his tongue never leaving your clit. You gasped even more once you feel him thrusting his finger in and out of you.
His tongue is his weapon.
His big calloused hands are the ones that’s stopping you from shutting your thighs together. He’s spreading your legs as if you were a butter on top of the leather couch. You were panting, gasping, you regretted whatever you said minutes ago that sets him off. Again, he’s doing this to prove a point.
His tongue laps on your cunt like a kitten licking its favorite milk. He could feel your thighs vibrates in his hands, though no matter how many times you’re about to shut your legs together he would notice and adds more pressure.
“Ngh! T-Tom.. P-please, it’s too much.” You breathlessly spoke in between your moans. Your body wanted to stop while your brain couldn’t help but enjoy the euphoria that he’s giving you by licking your wet cunt. You’re practically dripping to the expensive leather coach.
“S-stop, Stop! I’m gonna-” You whimpered, “I’m gonna c-cum!” You yelped before you sprayed out your release to your boyfriend’s, perfectly sculpted by god, face. Your thighs vibrate, your legs violently shook, your panting’s never stop.
Tom gave your pussy one last stride by his tongue before giving her a kiss. His hands went to wipe his face off from your spray. Your chest still heaves from the orgasm whilst Tom was pushing himself off from the kneeling position to sit beside you.
“How’d you do that? That was so good.” You whined as Tom laughs,
“You forgot I was young once?”
#tom cruise#tom cruise smut#tom cruise fic#tom cruise x reader#tom cruise imagine#tom cruise imagines#tom cruise dirty imagine#tom cruise dirty imagines#maverick#maverick smut#top gun maverick smut#maverick x reader#ethan hunt#ethan hunt smut#ethan hunt x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Imagine spending Christmas with Tom Cruise.
You and Tom were rarely home at the same time, but this year, for this holiday, you both managed to get lucky and be between projects, meaning you were both in the penthouse. He made himself busy with setting up for the holiday despite not being a celebrator of it himself - it was all for you. The Christmas tree, the stockings, the tinsel around the house, the decorations, he put them up himself rather than hire a decorator because frankly, he’d do anything for you.
You were more than ecstatic with all that he was doing, and you couldn’t stop giggling when he lifted you up, his strong hands on your waist, to put the star on the top of the tree. During all of this, you couldn’t stop smiling. The penthouse was looking more festive than you ever imagined that it could.
You grew up with family Christmases, not fancy ones, you didn’t grow up rich, but with a lot of heart, and a lot of spirit. Tom was trying to replicate that with the same blinking lights that played Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer when a certain button was pressed, and the old fashioned felt skirt around the bottom of the tree. To you, this was perfect, absolutely perfect.
Which lead you into hugging him once you were back down on the ground, holding him tightly. “You didn’t have to do all of this,” You told him. “I know you’re not into it-”
“I’m into what you’re into,” He told you, with a laugh. “And I have to admit, it does spruce the place up a bit.”
“Don’t you mean pine the place up a bit?” You quipped, horribly. He rolled his eyes but let out a laugh anyway. He was used to your sense of humor by now.
“Sure. Do we have to wait for Christmas Eve to put the presents under the tree, or can we start stacking them now?”
“As long as you don’t open them until morning, love. That’s one of the best parts.”
Requested by: Anonymous
#Tom Cruise#Tom Cruise x reader#Tom Cruise imagines#celebrity#celebrity imagines#request#imagines#x reader#tomc
103 notes
·
View notes
Text
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
@wandering-wah
@callsign-sunshine
@ghost-heart34
@birdy-bat-writes
@matya4
@wkndwlff
@nyx2021
@bellamy1998
@oliviah-25
@alexxavicry
@army24--7
@thefandomimagines
@dracosluvbot
@smit41
@scenesofobx
@Criminalmindsandmarvel
@lunamoonbby
@malums-trash-can
@malindacath
@karleetakeenan
@callsign-echo
@toothemoonanddback
@broketraveler87
@atarmychick007
@shanimallina87
@creativitybeware
@xoxabs88xox
@Yoyop7
@hallecarey1
@nik2blog
@rrocky0ah
@kpopgirlbtssvt
@lilianashomaresparza
@latetedslesetoiles
@Elenavampire21
@starberryhorse
@ginger-gabsq
@sarcastic-sourwolf
@risingtripletaurus
@callsignmaverick5
@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell
@hermaeusmorax
@littlebadariell
@simp-for-fictional-people
@ollyoxenfrees
@iamabeautifulperson18
@living-in-my-imagination88
@wintercap89
@mavrellover91
@gingerbreadandpaper
#maverick#pete maverick mitchell#top gun#pete mitchell#tom cruise#top gun maverick#maverick mitchell#maverick x reader#maverick top gun#maverick x you#pete mitchell x reader#pete mitchell x y/n#pete mitchell fanfiction#pete mitchell x you#maverick fanfic#maverick angst#pete mitchell angst#pete mitchell fanfic#maverick imagine#tom cruise x reader
947 notes
·
View notes
Text
Christmas Surprise
tom cruise x younger!wife!reader
summary: your husband surprises you on Christmas Day.
warnings: slight strained relationship, age gap (not mentioned), fluffy Tom
wc: 521
a/n: based on this request. Merry Christmas/happy holidays everyone!
You weren’t the biggest fan of Tom filming over the holidays. He knew that, and he told you he did everything he could to avoid this, and you believed him. It didn’t mean you were happy about it.
Tom calls you on Christmas Eve.
“Hey you,” you answer your phone.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he says. “I’m so sorry about filming over the holidays.”
“I know you are, baby, and it’s okay. You sound exhausted.”
Tom softly chuckles. “Yeah, I am. I wish I could be in bed with you right now.”
You smile at his words. “I know, Tom, I know. You’ll be home for New Year’s, right?”
“Yes, I will.”
“Good,” you smile. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll be home soon.”
“Okay. Talk tomorrow?”
“Yes, definitely.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
The call ends. You stay there for a moment, looking at your Lock Screen - a picture of you and Tom.
You get ready for bed - throwing on one of Tom’s shirts - and crawl onto his side of the bed. It smells like him and brings you comfort when he’s away. You wrap yourself in the blankets and his calming scent lulls you to sleep.
The next morning, you’re woken by the bed shifting.
“Tom?” you ask groggily, still not quite awake.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he says, leaning over and kissing your cheek.
“Mm, Merry Christmas,” you mumble.
Tom lays down beside you, pulling you flush against his chest.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear.
The chills that you get from his whisper wakes you a little more.
“Tom?” you ask again, a little more awake.
“I’m right here, y/n,” he tells you.
“Tom!” you exclaim, turning over to face him. You cup his face in your hands.
Tom smiles and kisses you. You wrap yourself around him.
“I guess you’ve missed me,” Tom chuckles, kissing whatever skin he can get to.
“Mm hm,” you hum. “I thought you were filming.”
“We were but took a break for the holidays. I wanted to surprise you.”
“You sure did,” you say, this time you’re the one peppering his skin with kisses. “I just want to lay here all day with you.”
“Well, good news - you can.”
“No work calls?”
Tom shakes his head. “I’m all yours, sweetheart. Until the 12th.”
You take a good look at Tom before kissing him again - hungrily and needily.
“Easy, sweetheart, we have, like, 20 days,” Tom chuckles against your lips.
“Yeah but I haven’t seen you in like 30,” you reply, moving your kisses from his lips to the corner of his mouth and jaw.
“Alright, alright,” Tom smiles. “I’m all yours. Do what you please.”
You giggle. “Don’t tell me that.”
Tom pulls you onto him, and you straddle his torso, hands on his pecs.
“I mean it,” he says playfully, poking your sides.
You smile at him before you lean down to kiss him again.
“God, I love you,” you murmur against his lips.
“Mm, I love you too,” he replies.
“Best Christmas present,” you mumble against his lips, absolutely overjoyed he’s back home in your arms.
#tom cruise x reader#tom cruise imagine#maverick x reader#ethan hunt x reader#pete mitchell x reader#requests#tom cruise x you
288 notes
·
View notes
Text
random “the outsiders” behind the scenes photos!!
#the outsiders#the outsiders headcanons#the outsiders imagine#the outsiders hcs#twobitsblade#rob lowe#tom cruise#matt dillon#ralph macchio#1980s#80s#80s movies#s.e hinton
628 notes
·
View notes
Text
A few of my favorite photos + gifs of Tom Cruise! ♡
#tom cruise#tom cruise fanfic#tom cruise imagine#tom cruise x reader#tom cruise x female reader#mission impossible#Ethan hunt#actors#tom cruise icons#top gun#top gun maverick#pete Mitchell#pete maverick mitchell
554 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dating Maverick (Headcanons)
summary: What dating Mav is like. (In ‘86 and in TG:M)
pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader
genre: fluff, a bit of angst
word count: 1278
A/N: if anybody wants a drabble/one-shot or for me to expand on any one of these (or if you wanna just talk about or exchange hcs), drop me an inbox!
-
1986 (and a few years after-ish)
Maverick is a very gentle lover. It didn’t seem so at first, with how cocky and flirty he might’ve been to catch your attention, but after the second date? So vulnerable and soft with you.
He can sing! Like actually super well. You noticed one day and now you ask him to sing when you can’t sleep. He was kind of self-conscious at first, used to singing with Goose in a playful, rowdy manner, as opposed to softly to you. He grew more comfortable as time passed, and now he likes to sing you his mother’s favorite songs.
But also gets incredibly obnoxious sometimes and will loudly impersonate Elvis while you’re trying to get something done.
Spontaneous road trips on his motorcycle (when he’s able). Dinner in Oceanside. Lunch in Palm Springs. A pick up in Vegas. A day in Phoenix. When? Now! Now?!
Knows the Southwest like the back of his hand, actually. It’s not as fun as flying, but driving through the wide, open stretch of desert with you clinging behind him is one of his absolute favorite pastimes.
Is from somewhere in the Southwest, therefore he absolutely hates the cold. Will have the heater on in the winter time and is not opposed to getting wrapped up in blankets by you. You tease him on how easily cold he gets, and he’ll playfully go “Whatever.”
You frequently find random candid photos of you. Taped to his wall, to his fridge, suddenly framed on his bedside table. He almost never mentions them until you laugh and point them out, to which he responds, “I thought you looked pretty there.” (With a shit-eating grin.)
Definitely has one in his F-14, by the way.
Is very stubborn about his attire. Very insistent on dressing like a cowboy at all times. You had to buy him his first pair of beach shorts.
Loves seeing you in his clothes; he’s crazy about it, actually.
Very cute lunch dates. He knows the best diners.
He likes taking you out for ice cream. Sometimes you share a cone and watch the sunset and the planes soaring through the sky.
He’s the best kisser. He prefers soft, sensual kissing and it definitely has its effect on you.
He has a habit of leaving paper planes everywhere. Some with love notes in them, others with funny doodles. Sometimes it’s just both of your names written, a little heart in between.
He rambles a lot. He’s very, very passionate about flying, and about his plane. Though you might not know what he’s talking about, nodding along with a simple smile and asking him a few questions makes him so happy. “Well, no, you see..” And then he goes on and on again.
At the same time, Maverick can be difficult sometimes. Especially after Goose. Sometimes he feels he needs to be alone, but don’t take it personally. He appreciates your support, but he’s been conditioned to “suck it up and move on.” It weighs on him to have to try, so expect him to be a bit quieter at times, a bit slower. You can sit around with him as he sulks, your head on his shoulder to let him know you need him, and that he’s loved. That he doesn’t have to isolate.
You get to watch him visibly becoming Bradley’s father figure.
“Hey, about tomorrow’s date. Can I bring the kid?”
Melting when he’s got Bradley in his lap in front of you, making airplane noises with a french fry to watch Bradley giggle and clap. Your heart swells at how good he is with him.
“Pete.. You can’t take him to watch that movie; it’s not for kids.” His signature grin. “Carole won’t mind.”
-
TG:M
Still sings to you. Or, in general, really. He likes to hum while making you breakfast.
He writes all your dates on his calendar.
He’s very playful with you. Likes making you double over in laughter because it usually results in you wrapping your arms around him and kissing him.
But he also enjoys when you tease him. Tell him there’s something he can’t do as well as he used to and boy, he will prove you wrong. He insists he’s getting better with age.
He’s still as flirty as ever. Except, you’re already dating, so he does it to watch how flustered you get. He loves making you blush.
He likes pet names. Sweetheart and honey are the ones he calls you the most.
He still does not like proper beach attire. Will roll up his jeans and call it a day.
He loves beach days with you, though. He likes laying back on the sand and watching you sunbathe, or play in the water.
You’re almost scared of phone calls now, with the way you’ve been called and informed of the accidents he’s been in while testing his planes. Though most are minor, you can’t help but worry that the next one might not be.
You’ve cried to him a couple times, making him promise he’ll be careful.
He’s a bigger cuddler at his older age, with the habit of pulling you from where you stand, from whatever you’re doing, and tugging you into bed with him.
He likes it when you play with his hair. It’ll lull him to sleep sometimes. Especially when you gently massage at his scalp, and bonus if you’re giving him kisses too. The fastest way to get him asleep, truly.
Alternatively, he also likes playing with yours. He’ll randomly twirl a strand when you’re in front of him, will tuck another behind your ear, will softly intertwine his fingers in it while you lay on him.
When he’s able, sleeping in together. As often as he can.
He notices you so well. If something is bothering you, he’ll make sure to find out what it is. He’s also a very good problem solver (duh, but with mundane things too). You feel like he deals with a lot, so you don’t always take every single one of your problems to him, but boy, when he figures out something is wrong? Expect him to walk you through the simplest of things if that’s what you need. He has an unbelievable amount of patience with you. And if it’s something he can’t help with, he’ll at least want to be there with you as you deal with it. He can be the best listener if you need him to be.
Is a lot more domestic and able to settle down. Likes the idea of having a “home” with you. (Not that he didn’t when he was younger, but he feels more grounded now. More grown up. Able to breathe a bit better.)
He makes your coffee just the way you like it. If he’s up before you, he always wakes you up with it, and a kiss on the forehead.
The days spent in his hangar.
Sometimes, in the summer, a late night thunderstorm will pass through, and there’s nothing more thrilling than cuddling up to him in the trailer, the both of you giggling at the sound of the rain pattering and the loud cracks of thunder.
But also the days! Though he’ll be occupied with something, you’re always a mere 10 feet away, reading or sketching or entertaining yourself in whatever way you can. Other times you just watch him work. Other times you ask him to tell you his infamous stories, or about his dad. He’ll have sort of a sad smile as he talks, but you know that he loves talking about the past. You make sure to always make room for it in the tranquility of the desert.
#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun: maverick#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fic#top gun x reader#top gun imagine#top gun maverick x reader#top gun fanfic#maverick x reader#pete mitchell x reader#top gun headcanons#pete maverick mitchell x reader#maverick x you#top gun 1986#pete mitchell#tom cruise x reader#*#mav
767 notes
·
View notes
Text
learning to warm cold hands || ethan hunt
summary: after a particular mission, sunshine isn’t sunshine anymore, and it worries him. (aka a cliche angst to fluff fic with the following tropes: slightly sunshine and super sunshine, who did this to you, etc)
words: ~1.4k
warnings: angst, brief descriptions of violence, ethan being overly concerned for reader, but not much else asides from that
a/n: first ethan fic (requested by a lovely anon, thank you!!) and second mission impossible fic! btw, this fic is kind of an AU? i don't have a specific timeline for when it happens, so you can squeeze it in wherever :)
“Y/N, status update?”
“Northwest exit, 430 meters. I have one on my tail. But you know I’m Usain Bolt 2.0! I can definitely outrun this doofus, I mean, I bet my mile time is way better than his. I could've gone to the Olympics, for God’s sake. The Olympics! Where are you?”
“Stay there, I’ll come find you.”
“Ethan, wait, you can't just tell me to—“ You don’t even get to finish before a an explosive sound echoes across the narrow alleyway. You make a sharp left turn but find that you’d just hit a dead end. The door was locked. Shit. You only had one bullet left and there was a guy who was definitely at least twice your weight—and over a foot taller, too—coming after you. You wouldn't even have enough time to reload.
“Y/N. Y/N—“
You don’t get to hear the rest of what he’s saying before the static fizzes out and you lose connection.
“Hey there!” You give the beefy man who’s now mere meters away from you a cheerful smile. “Lovely weather today, don’t you think? Too bad it’s going to rain tomorrow. I love the rain but I hate lightning, because I almost got struck a year ago.”
He doesn't look too happy at this, whipping his gun out without a moment’s hesitation. You squeeze your eyes shut and pray as you slide the bullet in and he pins you against the wall by your neck.
He brings the gun to your head, and your weapon clatters to the ground. You curse under your breath. You can feel your airways constricting and there's a searing pain working its way through you.
“You're not going anywhere, princess.”
There's a split-second; a microsecond in which he pauses. Very briefly. You don't think, just do—you knee him in the groin, hard, and quickly grab the knife that's sheathed in your boot.
Saying one last prayer, you plunge the blade in, not even looking to see if you'd aimed right. He falls to the floor, stumbling, and you then lunge forward to disarm him.
Another deafening gunshot rings out just as Ethan rounds the corner and finds you there, standing over the man’s dead body like the angel of death. A pool of blood surrounds your feet, and he doesn't think he wants to know if that's yours or his.
“You made it out alive. Good job out there.”
Glancing over at him, you nod, but don't say anything. You toss him the data files without another word, and board the plane.
“I'm proud of you.”
More strained silence. Huh, weird… he thinks.
“Y/N, are you alright?”
No response. Ethan repeats himself again, “Are you alright? Did something happen?”
You strap yourself into your seat and tilt your head back, digging your nails into your wrist. Anything was better than being awake right now…
“Well, someone's uncharacteristically quiet.”
Still no response. Not even a snarky quip like you'd typically reply with. No nicknames, no bickering, no random fun fact you googled on the way over here. “Did you know that a pig can digest an entire human body, bones and all? That makes me think a little extra every time we pass through the European countryside and see one of them.”
All he gets is silence from your end, and it starts to worry him.
That’s when he follows your gaze downwards. You're clutching the left side of your abdomen, trying your best not to make a sound.
His blood runs cold and his eyes darken. You can feel the pure rage radiating off him.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No…shit…Sherlock…” you croak out.
“You're hurt.”
No response again.
“Y/N, what the hell happened out there and who did this to you?”
More silence.
“Y/N, what did he do to you? How did he hurt you?”
After several more questions and several more failed replies, he forcefully moves your hand aside. Your shirt is stained a deep red and there's a gaping hole much bigger than Ethan wanted to see.
“You got shot.” He sighs. “Luther, how much longer?”
“Hour and five, but we can get there in 38.”
“Hurry.”
“On it.”
Ilsa brings him a thick roll of bandages. He tries to be as careful as possible as he disinfects and wraps up your torso, but every so often, you wince in pain.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart, just a few more minutes,” Ethan hurriedly apologizes. “Hang in there for me, okay?”
Once he's done, he sits down next to you and laces your fingers together, giving your hand a squeeze. You let out a shuddering sigh and slumped against him.
He pretends not to notice your watering eyes, or the crescent-shaped marks in your wrist. Or the way your left foot nervously taps out the rhythm to yours and his favorite song. Or the way your tears leave faint red tracks behind as they slip down your cheeks.
“I'm so sorry,” he repeats over and over again, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”
You don't sleep a wink that night. On any other day in Paris, you'd walk down to the farmer’s market below. You’d pick out Ethan’s favorite fruit and a new beret to have him wear jokingly, and maybe grab a croissant or two. Then you’d drag him along to the Louvre and point out each painting one by one and explain in great detail why you loved them so much. And he’d listen, because he could live purely off the sound of your voice for the rest of his life. He was never one for museums, but you loved them, and because he loved you, he started to love them, too.
But it's dark out, and after what had just happened the other day, you don't feel safe enough to leave the apartment. You tossed and turned for over half an hour before falling asleep, but jolted awake just a few minutes later, shivering violently. There was no way you were going to try and go to sleep again.
Ethan stirs awake, rubbing his eyes to see a dark figure slipping out the door.
He's quick to follow you up the staircase and to the rooftop. You're standing there in just a T-shirt (was that his?) and shorts, and it's freezing cold out, but you're sweating and fanning yourself.
“Y/N?”
You turn around at the sound of his voice. “Ethan…”
“What are you doing up here? I was worried about you.” He makes his way over to you and puts a hand on your shoulder, obvious concern on his face.
You bit your lip and started digging your nails into your wrist again.
“Talk to me, Y/N,” he pleaded. “Tell me what's wrong.”
You shook your head, feeling the skin of your wrist beginning to sting.
“Y/N, please. I want to help you. But I can’t do that when you won't talk to me, so please…tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m so tired, Ethan,” you finally spoke after a long pause, voice hoarse. “I should’ve—I shouldn’t be here right now, I should be dead because I panicked and I…I almost died. The man, he put the gun to my head and I saw my entire life flash before my eyes. I could’ve sworn to God that the whole ‘thing’ about you seeing your life flash by like a film reel was just a myth but it wasn’t. It scared the shit out of me because I kept seeing the same thing over and over. I thought…”
“What did you see?” he asked, voice gentle.
“I kept seeing your face. All I saw was your face.” You looked away, suddenly unable to make eye contact with him. Heat spreads across your cheeks. “I know I care about the whole damn team, but you—you’re my future, Ethan.”
He doesn’t say anything in response and instead, leans down to kiss you.
The sudden rush of warmth from his lips being pressed against yours makes you want to forget everything in the world and completely drown in him. This was home, you realized, and this is where I’m supposed to be.
And as the sun rises and spreads a brilliant pale glow over the horizon, Ethan can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was also exactly where he was meant to be. Not fighting bad guys, but rather, standing on the rooftop of a tiny building in the 4th arrondissement with you in his arms and your head against his heart. He thinks he could have a lifetime of this.
“You’re my future, too.”
tags (including those who may be interested! add yourself via this form, if you’d like): @mitchellpete @voguesir @fl0ating @lady-elena-adeline @the-multiverse-of-fandoms @ilsastrenchcoat @joyfullyswimmingface
#mission impossible#mission impossible fic#ethan hunt#tom cruise#ethan hunt x reader#ethan hunt x you#ethan hunt fic#ethan hunt imagine#mission impossible fanfic#mission impossible: rogue nation#mission impossible: fallout#mission impossible: dead reckoning#dead reckoning part one
542 notes
·
View notes
Text
Does your Mother know?
Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x fem!Reader
Summary: Somebody catches Maverick's eye at the bar. There's just a slight problem.
Tags: Fluff, AGE GAP!! but everybody involved is an adult, inspired by the ABBA song, sexy old man Mav
Notes: This is something old I once wrote about Slash but just changed it to Mav cause. Babygirl who's actually a wrinkly old man. Is obviously inspired by the ABBA song and I also used one of the lyrics lines. ALSO this is my first ever TGM imagine on here and I'm lowkey nervous so, please be nice. Also sorry if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!!!
Story after cut ✂️
Mav never thought he would end up in a situation like this. After the most recent Mission he just wanted to chill at The Hard Deck and let off some steam. The whole Dagger Squad had been tough on him.
But there he saw her. She was beautiful, but most importantly young. Probably in her late-twenties. He couldn't help but watch her throughout the night as she was hanging out with her friends.
He was taking a sip from his glass when he suddenly felt eyes on him. He looked around and noticed that it was one of her friends. She was whispering to her while looking over at him.
Out of nowhere, she suddenly stood up from the table and started walking towards him. She was wearing a gorgeous outfit and it took him all of his strength to not stare. This is inappropriate, Pete. You're old enough to be her dad, stop staring at her like that. He thought.
"Hey" She smiled softly. "Can I sit with you?"
He chuckled a little and shrugged, a bit caught off guard. “Suit yourself.” Her voice was even prettier than he thought.
"So.. what's a girl like you doing talking to an old man like me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, he was seriously surprised.
"I noticed you looking at me and so I got curious" She grinned in response. Maverick chuckled, a bit embarrassed he was caught staring. "Sorry, you just.. caught my attention" He mumbled under his breath.
"So, what's your name?" He asked curiously. "It's Y/N. And they call you…?"
"Maverick." He smiled.
Y/N. That name kept echoing in his head for a moment.
They just looked at each other for a moment, unsure what to say next. She suddenly pulled out a piece of paper from her leather jacket, scribbling something on it. She put the little piece of paper right into Mav's hand and his heart skipped a beat at the contact. What the fuck was happening?
"Give me a call" She winked at him and was just about to get up until he stopped her. "Wait- Are you serious?" He asked.
"You do know I'm old enough to be your dad, right?" He chuckled. "You seem pretty young to be searching for that kind of fun"
"I know, but you don't seem like the other older men staring at me. You're not as creepy as them" She replied teasingly. Soon she left again to sit down at the table with her friends.
Maverick just slightly shook his head with a smile before taking a sip from his drink, still caught off guard by the whole situation that just went down. He looked down at the note in his hand before putting it into his jacket, just to keep it safe for later.
#pete maverick mitchell#maverick x reader#maverick x reader imagine#pete mitchell#top gun#top gun 1986#top gun imagine#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#tgm#tgm fic#tgm fanfiction#dagger squad#tom cruise#tom cruise x reader
254 notes
·
View notes
Text
Altitude [18+]
Tom Cruise x !fem!reader
Words count: 3.7k
A/N: taking a flight alone can be a nightmare, especially if you have anxiety but he knows how to help with it
Warnings: it’s a smut so, that’s the only warning I’ve got.
this is my Christmas gift for @dxddycruise bc she’s the best🎀
After putting your bags away you took the ticket of the flight in your hands for the thousand time and checked which one was you seat.
Most of the people were still trying to make the bags fit while you started to walk on the carpeted floor, searching with your eyes the number and... letter? Of your seat.
You’ve never been on a plane before and you had no idea what those numbers and letters were doing there nor how it worked.
You looked behind and there was a whole line of people just like in front of you and when you tried to reach for a hostess they were all busy helping the other passengers.
You were almost about to panic and let everybody walk ahead so you had more time to figure out where your seat was.
After a few minutes, when everyone had found their seats a man stopped behind you again and without even looking at him you gestured him to just go ahead but he did not move until when you looked up at him and when you did...
His eyes were staring into yours but you couldn't help yourself from looking at the rest of his gorgeous face.
He was smiling at you and it was honestly the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen, and the way his cheeks were rising when he noticed that you weren’t looking at him but staring at him as if you’ve seen a ghost (for him, for you it was more like you’ve seen a God).
"Do you..." he spoke up. The tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine until your feet and you gripped the ticket as if it could save yourself from fainting. He pointed at the paper between your hands and looked down at it for a moment.
He thought you were going to say something but all you did was just staring at him. You could tell it was getting really awkward when he let out a small laugh and slowly took the ticket away from your hands to read it.
"Yeah... I can't- find my..." you couldn't even finish the sentence when he looked back at you. "...My seat" you smiled and swallowed hard before you looked down at the paper to avoid his intense and penetrating stare that was already sending you over the sky before you even left the land.
He smiled back at you as you slowly approached the seats and you noticed that everyone was already sat, already glued to their phones, already planning the rest of their lives in their hands. How depressing it was.
"There you go" the man spoke up again and placed his hand on your waist just to help you out with it and he had no idea how much you loved it.
"Thanks" you smiled, glancing back at him before sitting next to the small window.
He looked at his ticket and with a surprised smile he spoke to you again.
"I guess we will share this flight together" you laughed as he sat next to you while you were trying your best not to look at him for too long.
He took his phone out of the pocket of his expensive pants and you had to force yourself to look at the empty view next to you just not to stare at his hands or his lips or eyes. He was so hard to ignore.
"I'm Y/N by the way" you said out of the blue when he put his phone away.
He looked at you again and extended his hand for you to take it.
"Such a pretty name. I'm Tom nice to meet you" you took his hand in yours and he gently squeezed it before he let go of it.
"Thank you... so is yours" you smiled and he looked right at your lips before noticing your eyes.
Whenever you looked at him, time seemed to stop and no noise around you matter except the one of your heart echoing through your whole body.
When the plane suddenly left the airport you held yourself on your seat. The anxiety in your body started fo grow uncontrollably: from the noise of the people talking until the engine of the plane and was scaring the shit out of you.
"Are you okay darling?" He asked.
Darling.
You didn't know what he was doing to you and you knew he had no intentions with you but he must've known by now how much he had caught you and how much you’ve been waiting for this moment.
You slowly looked at him and your lips parted slightly, ready to speak but he took the word before you could even form a sentence.
"I'm going to get you some water" he said.
"No it's okay, I'm fine" you smiled before he could stand up. You didn’t want him to leave you, not even for some water, and so he leaned back on his seat and looked at you a bit concerned.
"I'm okay, thanks" the corners of his lips raised and there he was, smiling at you once again. It was such a view for you. The kind of view you'll never ever forget about.
"Vacation?" He asked after a while, trying to break the ice with you as he noticed how tensed you were.
"No, not really..." you chuckled "you?"
"No... just meetings, the usual" Tom laughed after you but it wasn't calming you at all.
You were nearly about to freak out on that plane and the more you looked down the more you felt like you wanted to throw up but his presence was forcing you not to and besides how embarrassing it was getting because you couldn't stop gripping the seat and take deep breaths between a smile and another he was noticing it all along.
"Your first time?" He looked down at your hands before meeting yours eyes again.
"Yeah, is it so obvious?" You laughed awkwardly before you closed your eyes for a moment to take your breath.
"You want to..." he whispered you.
"To what?" You asked back at him a little confused about what he meant by that.
"To go to the bathroom?"
Right. What were you even thinking about now. You felt so embarrassed. All you did was embarrassing yourself since the moment you dropped your bags out of the taxi this afternoon and then the ticket and the seat, your anxiety kicking in right when a handsome man talks to you and now this....
"Maybe it's better" you nodded and stood up, walking out of the seats but Tom held your wrist and you felt your whole body heating up. For a second you really thought that the altitude hit you but it was him, the way he looked at you and touched you was making you feeling higher than you already were.
"Do you want me to come with you?" He asked you but you didn't answer. Your lips parted and you frowned trying to read between the lines of what he was trying to say.
"I don't want you to pass out in there" the little laugh he let out led you to say yes to him. You were going to say yes anyways, to anything he wanted, you were down for it and couldn’t forget yourself for thinking such things in front of his face.
"Sure, that'd be better" with this Tom stood up and walked behind you as you approached the bathroom, holding yourself on every single seat until the door.
"I'll be right here" he smiled before you entered the room.
Your hand reached down to lock it but instead you did not. You didn't know why you were in the bathroom. You really didn't want to be there but you didn't even want to be next to him and act like a scared little girl so you had to make your move.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and you washed your hands without taking your eyes off of your reflection. You wondered if he was wondering why you didn't lock the door, you wondered if he was wondering that you were wondering that he was wondering why you didn't lock the door.
You were thinking about dragging him inside the room and just kiss him, as a thank you maybe?
The water was still going and you were still staring at yourself before he slowly knocked on the door.
"Is everything alright?" He asked quietly.
He knew it was open and even though you weren’t there since a long time you wondered why he'd really came here.
He wanted what you wanted, it was obvious.
"Y/N?" He spoke again and you felt his hand on the doorknob of the room before you decided to speak.
"no" you lied. Well it wasn't a lie, everything wasn't okay... you wanted him. You wanted him to kiss you and you were trying your best to convince your mind that that was what he wanted too, that he wanted to kiss you and more.
You suddenly opened the door and there he was, standing in front of you with that goddamn suit that only made you dream about what kind of beautiful, sculpted body was hiding behind it and those eyes, those lips. Your mind was going crazy.
He slowly walked towards you without taking his eyes off of yours, not even to blink. His hands reached for your face and his lips crashed on yours.
You held yourself on his arms as Tom entered the room and locked the door behind him without stopping the kiss.
Your mouth opened to let his tongue slip between your lips. Your breath was stuck in your throat and all the anxiety was replaced with hot waves of excitement.
His hands slide down your sides until your waist before he pushed you against the door and kept eating your mouth as if it was his last meal. You moaned and moved your hands into his jacket so he could take it off.
He broke the kiss and smiled when he noticed how good you were reacting to all of this while your hands traveled down his chest to finally feel it.
He kissed you again but quickly moved down to your neck, nibbling on your skin and biting it too.
Never in your life you’ve experienced anything like this and even if this was very inappropriate, you couldn't deny that it was such a feeling you didn't want to end for any reason.
His hands found the end of your sweater and he took it off of you with a fast move before his lips kept moving down your body.
You bit your lips as hard as you could, trying your best not to make any noise but he was making it impossible. Your hands reached for his face and you kissed all of him, harder than before and he didn't hesitate to go even harder until when your lips were red and sore.
Your heart was racing and your legs were already shaking just by the excitement of his kisses and when one of his huge arms wrapped around your waist and held you up on the small sink you let out a gasp.
"I knew you would’ve liked it” Hearing his voice after all of this was just the beginning of the end for you and he knew it, fuck if he did.
You smiled and looked up at him while he moved your jeans down your legs and kissed your thighs before you stepped out of them.
Tom started to unbutton his shirt but you didn't want him to do it, you needed to do it. You’ve been fantasizing about it since when your eyes landed on him and you must've had the pleasure to do it.
He was standing between your legs and you slowly leaned closer to him. You kissed his hand and Tom smirked down at you, noticing how eager you already were.
You took his hand in yours and moved it between your legs as you started to unbutton his shirt.
You bit your lips again and opened his shirt just enough for you to kiss his chest and just take a taste of it. His free hand moved through your hair and then down your clothed breasts.
"Fuck..." he moaned when your lips moved a little lower just to tease him and to make him lose his patience because of it.
You looked down at him with a smile printed on your face when you noticed what you've done to him. You couldn't help yourself from it and touched his huge hard cock with a hand and the moan he had to swallow not to let anyone hear the both of you was going to be the end of you.
He bent down to kiss you again as you felt his fingers gripping your thigh and moving closer to your core.
Your back arched and another moan escaped from your lips before he kissed you to avoid it.
"I'd love to hear you my love" he said against your lips as you tried your best to keep yours on his.
"I really can't let you do that..." he smirked while he slowly lowered and got on his knees in front of your spread legs.
You looked at him in surprise when you noticed what he had in mind and the worst part of it was that you were sure you couldn't shut up, you couldn't be quiet if he really did this to you.
Tom started to kiss your thigh without taking his eyes away from you, moving even closer to your core, teasing the hell out of you as you held yourself on the sink beneath you.
"Please..." you whispered quickly when two of his fingers moved your underwear to the side and you saw how proud he was for having you like this, helpless and completely fucked up already.
"Please Tom..." if only he made a false move now, the whole plane, pilots included, were going to find out what was going on in there.
"I haven't started yet" his long fingers slid down your soaked folds, slowly enough to make you feel how sensitive you already were because of him.
Your eyes fell shut and your body arched toward his to feel even more.
"Eager, are we?" He chuckled and when you opened your eyes he was right above you, with his body pressed against yours so you had no other choice but stare into his eyes while his fingers were slowly entering you.
"Oh my...." you gasped but he immediately kissed you before you could moan even louder.
"Fuck-" you cried out at the feeling of his fingers stretching you out, curling inside of you to hit the right spot.
"so wet…" Tom said against your cheek, holding your thigh in place with his free hand.
You nodded eagerly and let him sped up the movement of his fingers between your legs and your hand unconsciously held his wrist.
"Mm yes... yes-" you bit your lips again to kill all the cries that he was dragging out of you with his fingers pumping into you.
"You're gonna cum for me, aren't you?" He asked brining his hand toward your neck.
You nodded again at his question while your legs started to shake uncontrollably. His fingers were moving so fast that you could've barely feel your own body. Your hands tightened on his shoulders as he helped you reach the peak of your orgasm.
"There you go" he said kissing your neck, moving his hand up to your cheek and close to your mouth.
"Cum for me" his lips moved up to yours again as you came all over his hand while you cried out his name repeatedly, biting onto his fingers to kill all the moans that you were desperately trying to let out of you.
"Oh god" you took a deep breath and your eyes eyes fell shut as he caressed your face and kissed you over and over again.
"I want you so bad" you whispered against his lips, trying to keep yourself composed even though you were already feeling weak again.
Tom chuckled and kissed your lips while his hands left your body to unbuckle his pants and free his huge hard cock.
You bit your lips at the sight and when he noticed it, well that made him very proud.
"So do I" he replied and teased your sensitive folds with the tip of it before he slowly slide into you.
The way your walls stretched around him sent you straight to heaven and back and the way he was even struggling to go deeper just made you want to scream the lungs out of you.
"Fuck you're so big..." you moaned quietly and he let out a low groan as he tried to fit all the way in.
"And you're very tight" Tom held your thighs with both of his hands and spread your legs even more as your body started to get used to his massive size.
"Oh please fuck me..." you cried out in desperation when you felt your walls clenching around him.
"Say it again" he said staring deep into your eyes, holding your face with a hand.
"Please, fuck me" you repeated, breathing heavily and tightening your hands on his arms.
He looked down at your lips and kissed you while his cock slide almost out of you and slowly went all the way in again, with a slow, torturous pace that only made more eager and desperate for more.
"Oh fuck... I can't" you cried out but he was enjoying how stimulated you were and how badly you needed him to just break you.
"Yes you can..." Tom moved his lips down your jaw, until your neck while you were struggling to keep it quiet.
"And you will" his pace quickened as your legs wrapped around him to keep him even closer to you.
"Oh fuck... fuck" you moaned but he quickly kissed your mouth again before speaking up.
"Quiet babe" he said panting and fucking you at the same time.
You bit your lips as you felt your whole body giving in more and more. Your legs were trembling and your hands moved up his arms until his shoulders and face. God he was so beautiful.
His dark hair fell in front of his eyes as he looked down at the both of you but he quickly moved a hand through it so you could see his beautiful eyes again.
Just his face was driving you insane and the rest was killing you.
He was fucking your brains out and you were just about to let go when you began to feel his cock throb inside of you.
"Fuck I'm gonna cum again" you said against his lips.
"Not yet" he whispered next to your ear before moving away from you.
The sudden emptiness you felt made you gasp and moan at the same time. Tom quickly held you down from the skin and grabbed both of your arms, placing them behind your back.
"You cum when I tell you to" he continued and spun you around so you were facing the small mirror of the bathroom.
He bent you over the sink and slide all the way in again. Without giving you time to adjust to the size he started to pound into you with no mercy, hitting spots that not even his fingers could've reached.
"Tom- fuck" you were cut off by your own moans but he did not stop, he did not slow down.
He was giving you just what you wanted in the best way you wanted it.
"You want it, don't you?" Tom said against your cheek. Letting go of your arms so you could hold yourself up and he grabbed your hair and forced you to look at him through the mirror.
"Say it" he whispered you, speeding up the pace even more, till the point you couldn't take it anymore.
"Yes... yes-" you said straight away as tears ran down your cheeks and his lips moved down the back of your neck.
"Such a good girl" these words, sent you over the edge and he knew it by the way your walls clenched and gripped his cock so tightly.
"Yes just like that..."
"Please" you cried out.
"Let go for me darling, give it to me" and so you did.
He didn't stop moving back and forth until when your orgasm wasn't over and he had to place a hand over you mouth to keep you quiet while he finished himself inside of you, until the last drop.
"Oh fuck..." he moaned too and held himself on the sink even though you could feel the weight of his body over yours.
You two stayed there for a few moments to catch your breath before he slowly turned you around and hugged you close to him. You were both glowing with the after sex aura and the thin layer of sweat as you wrapped your arms around him and he did the same, trying to hold you up.
You slowly pulled away and kissed him again one last time.
“I hope you’re feeling better now” Tom said with a chuckle and you playfully rolled your eyes at him
“You think so?”
“Well I hope so” you laughed and kissed his lips one last time before you opened the door to check if anyone was there or if anyone heard what have happened but he held your hand and dragged you inside to kiss you.
You both quickly dressed up again and tried your best to look exactly like when you stepped into the bathroom.
“I think I’ll take you out on a date” His hands were holding your waist from behind as you slowly left the bathroom and you felt his lips against your neck again.
“You better” he laughed and you held his hand as you slowly approached your seats as if nothing happened.
#tom cruise#tom cruise smut#tom cruise x reader#tom cruise imagine#tom cruise x female reader#fanfic
262 notes
·
View notes
Text
Why Do You Care?
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Request: Can I request an imagine with Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw? I have always loved those rebellious type of people in stories. Can you write an imagine where you're assigned to work together with Bradley, but you two are always at each others throats. The time comes and you take a missile for him. You eject in time and as you're packing up your parachute, Bradley comes up to you and absolutely freaks out. Of course, it's because he cares and loves you ;) Thanks!
Warning(s): Language
Authors Note: I love it! I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 1.3K
"There is no way in hell that I'm working with this asshole!" You shouted, denying it loudly. "He's going to kill me before the enemy even attacks!"
"Gladly," Bradley responded snottily. "You don't know even know how to fly worth a shit."
"How old are you both?" Pete asked sternly. You both fell quiet but continued to glare daggers at each other. "Exactly. Shut up. Put aside your differences and work together. This mission requires the skills you both obtain."
"That's funny that you think that [Y/N] has skills-"
"Rooster!" Pete interrupted impatiently. Bradley immediately shut his mouth. You smirked at him, teasing him for being called out by Pete. "Now, gear up and get in your jets!"
You both nodded and rolled your eyes at each other before departing to go get geared up. As you were gearing up, Natasha sparked a conversation with you. You two had a good discussion, but at the end of it, she mentioned the name of the man you despised.
"So is there a reason you and Rooster are constantly bickering like a married couple?" Natasha asked curiously. You fake gagged. Natasha chuckled. "You know, I think that Maverick put you two together because-"
"Say so more Phoenix," You interrupted, putting your hand up. "I don't need to be throwin' up before this mission."
"Oh come on," Natasha sighed, rolling her eyes. "It's obvious that Rooster has the hots for you."
"He had the hots for my sister growing up," You revealed, feeling disgusting inside. "But it's quite obvious that all he cares about is himself. I've hated him ever since he broke her heart."
"Well, that explains your side, but why does Rooster have it out for you too?"
"When I get revenge, I get revenge." You clearly stated, making Natasha smile. "Anyways, let's get situated. We have people to save. Well, unless it's Bradley."
Natasha smirked. "Sure [Y/N]. You keep tellin' yourself that."
»»----- ♡ -----««
"[Y/N]." You heard Bradley call out as you approached your jet, passing Bradley. You clearly heard him, but you ignored him and continued walking. Bradly huffed in annoyance. "[Y/N]!" Bradley shouted louder. You continued to ignore him. Bradley clenched his jaw in irritation. "[Y/N]! I'M TALKING TO YOU DAMN IT!!!"
His voice was so boisterous, it caught the attention of everyone who was there. You came to a halt and inhaled deeply before turning around to face him. Bradley approached you and told you specific instructions as he reached you. You just kept looking everywhere except him, showing him how much you 'cared'
"You know, it's really rude to not look at the person who is talking to you," Bradley angrily confronted. You dramatically looked back into his eyes and fluttered your eyes multiple times. He wasn't very amused by your sarcastic gesture. "I just want you safe [Y/N]. Don't do anything stupid out there."
Your eyebrows furrowed as he said those words to you. It was as if...He cared. Bradley stormed off before you could point out his out-of-the-blue kindness toward you. You shook those thoughts out of your head and re-focused your attention back on the mission. You had a mission to complete and you had a partner to complete it with.
»»----- ♡ -----««
The tensions were high. You and Bradley only had one more pilot jet to take care of. You were out of ammo but had one more shot for flares. You and Bradley were yelling at each other as you kept each other safe. You watched as Bradley successfully hit the pilot, but before you celebrated, you noticed that the pilot had launched a missile before going down.
The missile was going straight toward Bradley. You yelled at Bradley that he had a missile coming toward him.
"Shit! I don't have anymore flares!" Bradley shouted in panic. "Maybe I can-"
"I can't believe I'm doing this," You muttered to yourself, preparing yourself to take the missile for him. You pressed the buttons and started flying toward him. You put your thumb on the button, but unexpectedly, the missile hit you before you pressed the button. "Shit!"
Your head was spinning as your jet was going downward. It was already a bad situation, but having Bradley screaming in your headset was making it even worse. You needed to focus to get your jet back, but it wasn't long until you figured out that you couldn't. You cursed before you pulled the eject button.
»»----- ♡ -----««
Thankfully, you landed smoothly. Technically, the mission was a success. All the enemy pilots were gone and you survived as well as Bradley. As you were getting out of your parachute, you started getting it back into the bag. You perked up as you heard footsteps rapidly approaching you. You dropped what you were doing and turned around.
It was Bradley! He was running up to you...and he wasn't stopping. You were struck with confusion as he got closer. He was fuming.
"Roos-"
Before you could finish your words Bradley shoved you straight to the ground, the impact of his motion caused you to slide a little bit. You were grateful the suit kept you from getting the wind knocked out of you. You were sure it would've been if you weren't wearing all the gear that you were. As you were looking at the sky, it was immediately replaced with the face of an unhappy Bradley.
He towered over you and pointed down at you. "YOU ASSHOLE!!!"
"What?!" You shouted, climbing back up to your feet. You pointed your finger at Bradley. "I saved your LIFE dickhead!"
"YOU ALMOST DIED!"
"WHY DO YOU CARE?!" You screamed back, instantly realizing you really did bicker with Bradley like he was your husband. Bradley paused and seemed to have the look like he had been caught about something. "You may not care about my family, but I care about yours. I don't want your family to know that their son won't return home."
"Of course, I care about your damn family! That's why I left your sister!" Bradley shouted. You lifted an eyebrow in confusion. Bradley groaned in aggravation, running his hands through his hair in distress. "[Y/N] I LOVE YOU!!!"
As those four words echoed clearly through the blue sky, you couldn't remove your gaze from his. You've always wondered what it would be like if someone admitted they loved you, but you never pictured it to be in the middle of the woods and him screaming it at you angrily. You put your finger up to him, indicating that you had to process what he had just said.
Bradley didn't want to wait for another second and continued. "[Y/N]. The moment I met your sister, I fell in love. But the moment I met you, I truly fell in love. You were different. You made me feel things that I've never felt with any other woman in my life."
"Rooster, I don't-"
"I broke up with your sister because she knew that I had feelings for you," Bradley interrupted, throwing you into an even deeper pit of confusion. "I'm an honest man. I didn't want to hurt your sister and I knew keeping secrets from her was going to do that."
"What are you even talking about? You still hurt her! Her heart was broken!"
"Well of course it's going to be broken! Breaking up isn't easy [Y/N]! Mine was broken for months too," Bradley claimed. "But we're both on good terms now. She is still a great woman and she will find that man who will treat her better than I did."
You crossed your arms and removed your gaze from him. You didn't even know what to think about this situation, but you didn't feel against it. Bradley sighed and copied your position.
"This is not how I imagined confessing my love for you."
You raised your eyes back up at Bradley who was staring at the ground. "You really love me?"
Bradley slowly raised his eyes up to meet with you. He gave you a small smile. "Yes. I do. I love you [Y/N]."
"Damn it. Natasha was right," You muttered. "I owe her twenty dollars now."
»»----- ♡ -----««
Thanks for reading!
I do not own this GIF. Credit goes to the owner!
My Wattpad
#imagine#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#top gun imagine#fanfiction#top gun fandom#pete mitchell#tom cruise#natasha trace#phoneix#monica barbaro#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#miles teller
964 notes
·
View notes
Text
Since Your Type is Older Men (18+) — Tom Cruise
summary: Tom is filled with Jealousy when he sees you Zooming with your University Professor.
pairings: husband!tom x wife!reader
warnings: mature content, smut, unprotected sex, sirkink, agegap, squirting
w.c 1542
a/n: this one's dedicated for @rinimitchell and @angelaemme as they're always the first two to always show support whenever i post! love you both, hope you enjoy it! x
taglist: @tomsf18 @helloitstsyu @deanscroissant @moondustfairies @call-sign-shark @katherineswritingsblog @elenavampire21 @gypsymoon548 @cherrycruise @joeltheegoodson
"Baby, you're killing me. Tell me what did I do wrong?" You whined towards your loving husband, plopping yourself down beside him on the fluffy couch. He pays you no mind, his eyes focused on the flat screen flicking through channels as he's aware there's nothing exciting to watch.
A frustration can be seen on your face, turning your head towards the TV and watch him still going through channels that he never picked. You sigh, "Just pick a damn channel and look at me." You groaned.
Being stubborn, he didn't listen to you. At this point, you believe the TV could blow off any second from the way he switched on the channels. Pursing your lips, you decided to take matters into your own hands as you pushed yourself off to your feet to straddle his thighs, blocking his view.
Settling down on his lap, you aggressively grabbed the remote from him and switch off the TV before tossing it away. Once you face him, a death stare was already set on you. Your eyebrows scrunched in anger, crossing your arms across your chest.
"What is up with you, Tom? Tell me what's wrong?" You aggressively asked.
“Who were you on Zoom with?”
“I told you! I was on Zoom with my Professor to talk about my grades and-”
“Exactly, and? What did he say? How can you maintain your grades?” And that’s when you realize, the man is being hostile because he’s jealous. Your crossed arms seemed to relax a bit, your shoulders following to slumped. Looking at him funny as you chuckle.
Tom on the other hand, is still annoyed. “What’s so funny?” He grumbled.
That made you laugh even more, “Oh baby, are you jealous?” Gasping for air as you asked your beloved while running your hands through his hair.
“No.”
Snorted, “Really? I think that’s hot.” You run your fingers through his long hair, pushing it back. Tom peered up at you from his lashes.
“I-” Stopping himself to sigh, “I just… Don’t like him.”
“You’ve never met the man.”
“Yeah and therefore, I don’t like him. Don’t you ever realize that sometimes he flirts with you? What kind of a Professor does that to their student? Don’t you find it disgusting?” Tom grimaced in disgust.
You suppress your laugh, you find this whole situation adorable. From being annoyed, to understanding and seeing where his coming from. It warms you that although the way he shows it, was annoying, but when you give yourself a second to think about it, he’s just being adorably protective over you—his young wife.
“Have you ever catch me responding to any of ‘em?” Tom pursed his lips, his eyes darting down to avoid looking at you.
“No.” He admit.
“I’ve always done my online meetings with you in the room, baby. You’ve seen everything, you should’ve trusted me.” You coo’ed, caressing his cheek with the palm of your hands. Tom sighed, his shoulders slumped, his hands reaching to grasp your hips.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just- Sometimes I would think, since your type is older men, he’s definitely older than you, good looking either… You’d leave me for him.” Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment not because of what he said was ever near true, but the way he pointed out how you love older men. You never thought of leaving him, ever, because why would you? You snatched the one and only Tom Cruise for christ sake—have he lost his mind?
“Baby, you hearing yourself? I will never leave you!” You exclaimed, cupping his face now.
“I will never… Ever.. Leave you.” You brought his face closer to yours, forcing him to look at you.
“Never, okay? Besides..” You trailed, your hands slowly went down to his neck. “I have you, the man, the myth, the legend, who saved Hollywood’s ass.. Tom Cruise.” You coo’ed in his ear, your hips gently grinds on his lap.
“Yeah?” His famous smirk slowly appearing.
“Yeah.” You pouted, nodding your head.
“Why is your type older men, anyways?” Tom teased, the hands that were on your hips moves gently to caress you.
“If I tell you, I’m gonna have to kill you.” You may or may not quoted him using his lines from the greatest movie of all time. Tom laughs before he pulls you in for a deep kiss. The kiss turned out to be heated by the second, the way his tongue swipes against your bottom lip asking for entrance. From there on, it turns into some kind of battling for dominance. He couldn’t help but gently capture your bottom lip, seductively pulling it as you kept grinding on his lap.
He released your bottom lip to let out a soft grunt, with his eyes screwed shut as he could feel your soaked thong against his bulge. “You never really answered the question, pretty.” Tom manage to say something, but grunting in each words.
Humming, you stopped grinding your hips to undo his pants. Pulling it down along with his boxers freeing his, now fully, erect cock. A sigh of relief you earned from him, as your eyes darted to stare at him.
“You’re the one who set the bars. I love older men, because of you. And, I’m so lucky that I finally have you, Tommy.” You coo’ed, pecking his lips as you pushed your thong aside, guiding his cock to your hole gently rubbing the tip against your glistening cunt.
“Don’t ever think about that ever again, yeah? I just want to fuck my husband, and that- is you.” You whispered against his lips before you sink yourself down his shaft. Tom’s breath shuddered watching your face contorted into euphoria along releasing the most pornographic moans.
“Mmh… How I love this cock in my pussy, Sir. Only your cock she wants.” Tom grunted listening to you dirty talk in his ears, feeling you softly went up and down on him.
“Don’t you love my pussy, Sir? My tight warm pussy, for your old cock?” Something inside him snapped as he pushed you down against the cushions—earning a loud gasp from you.
“Old cock you say huh?” You smirked.
“Well.. That’s how you perceive yourself, weren’t you?” Tom clicked his tongue while shaking his head from side to side in disbelief.
“Don’t forget that this old cock, had made you cum-” He harshly thrusted his hips, “Made your legs shook-” And another one, “And made you squirted so many times.” He growled.
You smirk, “Yes, Sir. That’s what you do to me.” You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck. Tom grabbed your legs and wrap them around his hips along with throwing his shirt away. He harshly undo your oversized shirt to reveal your perfect body. Already glistening with little sweats anticipating his next move.
Tom harshly snapped his hips thrusting his cock into your cunt, his hands holding onto your tits gripping them so tight but not tight enough where it could hurt you. In fact, you didn’t feel pain from any of this. You enjoy this, you enjoy him going off with your pussy. Loud pornographic moans raining from your lips, as you both stare at each other while his cock drilling in your pussy.
“Mmh yes, keep going Sir. Please.”
“Oh, Sir! Yes, it feels so good.”
“You feel so good.”
You try to boost his ego more by spilling out dirty talks that you think he would love. Oh, he definitely loves it. Listening to you talk dirty to him makes him goes feral even more as he pushed your legs up in the air then push them back resulting you to hug your legs as he pushed himself into you more. Tom grunts feeling the way your cunt puckered around his cock, gladly welcomes him with your warmth as the wetness you produce formed a squelching sound.
“Mmh, are you gonna cum, Sir?” You mewled. Your eyebrows scrunched to form an innocent face as he stares at you death in the eyes. Feeling himself getting closer.
“Yeah? You’re gonna cum in me?” Tom moaned. As much as he’d want to bust his nut right there and now, he couldn’t. He wants to prove a point. You gasped in surprise as he harshly pull himself out from your cunt.
“Wha-” You were about to protest but then his 2 fingers enters your hole, flicking and fucking you. “Fuck!” You cursed along releasing a loud moan. By now, you believe the cushions is soaked due to your fluid as his fingers fucks into you.
“You always love my fingers, right?” Tom breathed, as his fingers vigorously fucking you. “Come on baby, I want you to squirt for me.” You moaned.
“F-fuck! Tommy.” You shrieked, he knew the fastest way to get you to squirt for him was using his fingers. And he proved himself right, seconds later you gushed out your fluids out—spraying his abdomen and made a real mess. But, Tom didn’t stop there.
When you were still squirting, he replaced his fingers with his cock. A loud moan escaped from him, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm.
“This is going to be a long night for you, baby.”
#tom cruise#tom cruise smut#tom cruise dirty imagine#tom cruise dirty imagines#tom cruise imagine#tom cruise imagines#tom cruise oneshot#tom cruise fic#tom cruise fanfiction#tom cruise x reader
860 notes
·
View notes
Text
Imagine Tom Cruise taking care of you when you’re sick.
It wasn’t like you MEANT to be sick on your birthday, it just sort of happened - proving further the theory that the world just didn’t like you sometimes. You were meant to be having plans with Tom tonight, you know, the actor Tom Cruise, star of many many movies, been famous for almost thirty years - yeah, that guy, but nope. Instead here you were, on the couch, throwing used tissue after used tissue into an overflowing trash bin, and watching just the weirdest things on Netflix that you could imagine.
And yet - there was a knocking on your door that you were hesitant to offer. You were pretty tired, and sometimes you ordered food without remembering until it arrived, was that the case tonight? Another knock, which made you get up, nose red and irritated, blankets wrapped around you like a burrito, taking baby steps to go to the door, unlock it, and peek out.
“You weren’t lying, you really are sick,” Tom said, stepping in through the small gap that you had made, carrying a Styrofoam bowl with a lid in his one hand. You really hadn’t wanted him to see you like this but since he was already here...
“What a really nice thing to say,” You said with a pout, closing and locking the door behind him. He really did have a habit of just bursting in sometimes, but you knew it was because he cared about you. He came all this way.
“Sorry,” He winced, making his way right into your kitchen. He almost kicked over the small bin of tissues, but apparently didn’t notice. You watched, holding the blanket close to your chest as he transferred the contents of the Styrofoam to one of your bowls. “This is what always works for me. The best chicken noodle soup in the world.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” Tom said, looking over at you with a smile. “Go on, sit down. You don’t even have to untangle yourself, I’ll feed you.”
You were a little irritated by the fact that he was just taking this all upon himself but you flattered as well. You half-walked, half-hopped back to the couch and sat down. He joined you, picking up a spoonful of soup. “This is going to blow your mind.”
You let him feed you. It was a shame you couldn’t actually taste anything. Your nose was so clogged, and your taste buds felt fuzzy. He kept looking at you, expecting you to make a big deal out of the soup so you put it on a bit. “Wow, yeah, that’s - great. I’ll be better in no time!”
“Good, good,” He said, and kept feeding you. “And after, I can rub some Vick’s onto your chest and -”
“Yes please,” You exclaimed, making him laugh.
Requested by: Anonymous
#Tom Cruise#Tom Cruise x reader#Tom Cruise imagines#celebrity#celebrity imagines#request#imagines#tomc
184 notes
·
View notes
Text
There Are Circumstances
Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader
Summary: Maverick refuses to bring you on the mission which further deteriorates your already fragile relationship. And the true reason behind his decision catches you off guard.
CW: age gap, student/instructor dynamic, swearing, and, as always, a hefty dose of emotional torment
WC: 3000+
This is Part 4 in the There Are Rules universe.
“Lieutenant!” Maverick calls after you as you storm out of the briefing room before anybody else can exit. You hear him pushing past the others as he follows you out the door. “Lieutenant!” he repeats, his voice echoing in the narrow passageway.
You quicken your pace, the curve of the steel walls blurring in your peripherals as you nearly sprint through the winding corridor.
“Y/N!” Maverick hollers over the persistent rattle of the ship. You keep your course without acknowledging him, but the hum of machinery drowns out Maverick’s footsteps and you don’t hear him running up behind you until it’s too late and he’s cutting you off before you can go any further. He stops so abruptly that you nearly crash into him. He releases a sharp breath, his lips pressed together tightly, and blocks your way when you try to move past. “Don’t take it personally,” he says.
“Fuck off,” you snap, trying to go around him.
Maverick holds his hand out to stop you and gives his head a slight shake. “If this is your idea of professionalism” –
You scoff indignantly. How dare he speak of professionalism after washing you out for no good reason. You’re the best pilot in the squadron – he’d admitted it himself – so his decision to keep you off the mission is personal. “Never would’ve pegged you for the spiteful type,” you say, trying to keep your voice level despite its underlying tremor.
Maverick’s gaze drifts as he looks stoically over your shoulder. He seems unfazed by your assessment or, at the very least, he hides it well. “This has nothing to do with our relationship,” he says, still not meeting your eye.
“What relationship?” you respond maliciously, reminding him that he had severed whatever connection the two of you shared weeks ago.
Maverick breathes out steadily and looks at you once more. “I can’t take you,” he says firmly. “Please don’t question my judgement.”
You let out a bitter chuckle and it reverberates in the passage, for a moment drowning out the rumble of the ship’s engines. “Did Cyclone put you up to this?” you ask.
Maverick shakes his head sternly. “This was my decision.”
You grit your teeth to keep your mouth from trembling. You’re so offended that Maverick has excluded you from the operation, it hardly matters why he chose to do it. All that matters is that Maverick keeps hurting you. And all you want to do is hurt him back. “Let me pass,” you hiss, trying again to force your way through.
Maverick takes a hold of your arms to keep you in place. “Don’t do this,” he says, an edge to his tone despite the composure on his face.
“Do what?” you yell, fighting his firm grasp.
“You’re acting irrationally,” Maverick says in a low voice.
“Oh, am I?” you respond scathingly.
“We can discuss this in a mature, professional manner,” he urges.
You blink at him, stunned at his choice of words. “Are you saying I’m immature?”
He shakes his head solemnly. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“That’s the word you used” –
“Just listen to me, for god’s sake!” he growls, his volume rising threateningly. But you’re only pleased to witness the dissolution of his self-control. After all, you can’t be the only one here who feels something.
“I am listening!” you retort. “You’re professional and I’m not. You’re mature and I’m” –
“Why are you starting a fight?”
“I didn’t start this!” you shout, finally freeing yourself of his grip.
You push past him angrily, but he doesn’t let you get far before roaring, “YOU’RE A LOOSE CANNON!”
You freeze, silent for a second as you process this appraisal.
“If I can’t trust you down here, how am I supposed to trust you up there?” he yells.
You turn slowly to look at him, meeting his turbulent gaze. “You don’t trust me?” you ask quietly, your words barely audible amidst the clatter of the ship.
Maverick’s features contort apologetically, as though he immediately regrets his words. He sighs despairingly, his eyes glistening in the low, fluorescent lights as he squares his jaw. “I can’t get you to cooperate,” he says regretfully. “I don’t know how.”
You stare at him in disbelief.
“You’re a hell of a pilot,” he continues. “But, unfortunately, that’s not enough.”
You suck in your cheeks and bite into them aggressively, trying your best not to cry.
“I can’t have you ignoring my orders up there because you think you know better” –
“I would never –” you start, but he cuts you off.
“You have not demonstrated evidence to the contrary,” he says decisively.
“Maybe not during training, but on a mission” –
Maverick shakes his head. “I told you, Lieutenant: we train like we fight. So that, when we fight, we can come back alive. Ignoring instructions during training may have created bad habits that I don’t want to creep up on us in combat.”
“So, this is punishment?”
“No,” Maverick says quietly. “This is a lesson.”
You let out a disdainful sigh. “What’s the difference?”
Maverick takes a step toward you. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he says.
You back away. “And yet, here we are.”
Maverick watches you levelly, having nearly regained all his composure. “I don’t want to leave this unresolved.”
You consider his request. In just a few hours, he will be leaving for a mission from which he may never return. And yet, your resentment gets the best of you anyhow. “You know that I would never jeopardize this mission,” you say through gritted teeth. “You know that your reason for leaving me behind is bullshit!”
Maverick nods solemnly. “You’re entitled to that opinion.”
You clench your jaw. “Don’t patronize me.”
Maverick doesn’t say much after this point, and you’re too distraught to carry on the conversation all on your own. Within minutes, other officers begin to round the corner as they make their way back to the living quarters and you join the procession mutely, giving Maverick one last, wounded glance.
…
You’re on deck when Maverick and his crew prepare for takeoff as your own fighter is on standby alert. He watches you solemnly as you wish your fellow aviators a successful mission and, when he approaches you, his eyebrows lifted inward worriedly, you’re suddenly overwhelmed with anguish at the thought of losing him for good.
He holds out his hand to you, but you don’t take it. Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, shutting your eyes tightly when you feel his hands close around your back. “Fly safe, Captain,” you mutter, and you feel his head move up and down in a nod against your neck. When your eyes flutter open, you notice that Cyclone – who’d been watching your interaction from the sidelines – has turned away with a sour expression.
It takes every ounce of your self-control to keep from kissing him as you pull away from the embrace. And, when you catch Maverick’s miserable expression, you gather that he’s fighting the same impulse. He squeezes your hand discreetly before backing away with a grim expression. “We’ll see you soon,” he assures you.
…
“Requesting clearance for takeoff, sir,” you say tensely, interrupting the chaotic feed in your headset.
“Denied,” you hear Cyclone’s rigid response.
“But, sir –” you start when Cyclone interjects.
“I said no, Lieutenant.”
You throw your head back into your seat in frustration. Your heart is hammering so insistently that you feel its pulse in the tips of every one of your fingers. You’ve been trained to keep your emotions in check when faced with stressful situations. You’ve been taught to manage anxiety and overcome fear. But this? No amount of simulation exercises could have possibly prepared you for an event like this.
Maverick’s plane has been shot down and Cyclone has made the difficult decision of leaving him behind, despite the very real chance that he may still be alive. Rationally speaking, you understand that going back for Maverick isn’t worth the unnecessary risk of additional casualties. But, as is to be expected in such unprecedented circumstances, you’re noticing a rapid deterioration of your own logical reasoning skills to the point where you contemplate ignoring orders, taxiing to the runway, and taking off without pre-flight checks. Just when you’re about to release the parking brake, however, the ground crew cuts your engine. You glance down to see them signaling for you to exit the aircraft. “Admiral Simpson, what is happening?” you ask in a panic. “Why were my engines shut off?”
“You’ve been grounded, Lieutenant,” is his response. “Please report to mission control.”
The thought that Cyclone might be omitting information about Maverick and taking you off the deck in order to share it in private is causing you to stagger as you climb out of the cockpit. You’re so nauseated that you feel like you might faint before reaching the ground.
You remove your helmet at a run, skirting the maintenance personnel on the flight deck to reach the first stairwell. You barrel down the stairs and through a passageway toward the center of the carrier. Then down another flight of stairs, and then another. It feels like a lifetime has passed before you finally reach the Combat Information Center.
“Is he okay?” you cry, bursting through the door.
Cyclone turns to look at you with barely concealed irritation. He doesn’t appear impressed with your conduct.
You clear your throat and salute your superior. Then, you try again. “Where is he, sir?”
Cyclone tightens his mouth sternly before looking back to the screen behind him. “We don’t know,” he responds.
“What?” you screech, forgetting protocol yet again. This time, however, Cyclone doesn’t even flinch at your tone. “Why am I here then?” you ask, adding, “Sir,” as an afterthought.
“You’re here because I’m not losing another pilot to insubordination,” he replies without so much as looking in your direction.
“Another pilot?”
Cyclone grimaces. “Maverick pulled a stunt.”
“A stunt, sir?”
“They missed the target,” Cyclone states. “Their time was up, I ordered them to return.”
Your heart sinks. “He went back.”
“He took it out,” Cyclone says with a hint of respect. “Just before he was shot down.”
There’s a somber stillness in the room which tells you that there isn’t a soul here that thinks Maverick could have survived. You feel yourself start to shake, the hope that you were clinging to extinguished as the words shot down begin to finally sink in. Meanwhile, you’re stranded in the depths of the carrier, watching helplessly as the tactical team continues strategizing with their commanding officer on how best to bring the rest of their pilots home.
You lean your back into the wall, trying to steady your breathing, not sure how you’re still standing at all. You notice Cyclone’s occasional glances in your direction but you pay him little attention; in fact, you’re doing a fine job of tuning everyone out, until someone’s surprised tone of voice peaks your interest.
“Sir.” One of the operators points at the radar screen. You and everybody else look up at the blip moving swiftly in the direction of the carrier.
“Is that…” Cyclone leans over the operator’s chair. “One of ours?”
“Comms are down, sir,” the operator responds. “But it’s a Hornet.”
"How the hell?" Cyclone straightens his back in awe. He looks over his shoulder at you with a mildly amused expression. “It’s his tail code,” he says, holding your gaze significantly.
Before he can say anything else, you’re out the door, hurtling back up the stairs. You’re blocked, however, by med crews as they flock to the flight deck. By the time you arrive, the crowd surrounding the returned aviator is so large that you can’t get through. But it doesn��t matter. Because he’s alive. Maverick is alive.
…
Half an hour later, you rush into the officer’s locker room to find a shirtless Maverick grabbing a t-shirt out of his locker. He whips his head around when he hears you enter and lowers his arms slowly as you approach.
He glances over your shoulder anxiously. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says.
Although this isn’t the greeting you had in mind, you gaze at him affectionately, nonetheless, still in shock that he’s made it back. That you were so close to losing him forever and yet, here he stands before you, alive and relatively unscathed.
“Y/N,” he warns as you draw nearer.
But you barely hear him. Or, rather, you ignore his words. Perhaps he’s been right all along about your reluctance to comply with authority.
Maverick opens his mouth as if to speak again but, the closer you get, the more powerless he appears in your presence. And before he can say anything else, you throw your arms around him, burying your face into his neck.
Immediately, he’s hugging you back. He holds you firmly, as though he knows just how much you need to feel him after the fear of never being able to touch him again. You collapse into his embrace entirely, until all your limbs are so weak, he’s practically holding you upright. You’re crying and kissing his neck, and his chest heaves as you fall apart in his arms. “Sweetheart,” he whispers into your ear before pressing a burning kiss on your cheekbone. “You can’t be here.”
You compress yourself against him, completely disregarding everything that followed the word Sweetheart. Maverick’s biceps contract as he hugs you even tighter than before, his rapid breaths washing over the top of your head. You lift your face to glance up at him from the snug embrace and he lowers his head to rest on yours. He closes his eyes when your hand starts to move softly down his bare, upper body. “Just a little longer,” you breathe.
He nods against your forehead, bringing a hand up to rest over yours on his chest. His fingers curl around yours and he lifts your hand up to his lips, kissing your fingertips gently. “I owe you an apology,” he says in an uneven tone.
Slowly and very reluctantly, you detach yourself from him. “No.” You shake your head. “You don’t.”
“Trust me,” he says, his gaze dropping. “I do.”
It’s the hard set of his jaw that makes you uneasy at first. And then, when he looks back up at you, the grief in his swimming eyes alarms you further. “What is it?” you ask, not entirely certain you can handle the answer.
Maverick exhales resolutely and turns away to grab his duffel bag out of the locker. The muscles in his back shift when he bends to set it down on the bench. “I applied for a transfer,” he says.
You stare at the back of his head, paralyzed. Confused. Feeling like you might be sick. “What?” you breathe. “Why?”
Maverick straightens out and gives you a somber look. “Because,” he says. “I’m letting my feelings for you cloud my judgement.”
“What are you talking about?” you exclaim. “You didn’t take me on the mission! Despite knowing that I’d get mad. You were right; I’m impulsive and unpredictable and –” you stop short when Maverick shakes his head.
“That’s not why I didn’t take you,” he says with a hint of regret in his tone.
You watch him drag a tired hand over his face. “It wasn’t because you don’t trust me?” you say quietly.
“No,” he admits. “It’s because I don’t trust myself.”
You furrow your eyebrows, wanting more than anything to know exactly what Maverick is thinking. What Maverick is feeling.
He meets your gaze hesitantly. “I couldn’t trust myself to prioritize the mission objective over your safety.” He shakes his head, letting out a tortured sigh. “I couldn’t do it,” he whispers desperately. He releases an uneven breath and shifts his jaw to keep it from trembling. “I can’t fly with you.”
You watch the man who so rarely demonstrates emotion crumble under the gravity of his own words. But the show is fleeting. Abruptly, he wipes his brow in frustration and presses his lips together tightly, squaring his shoulders after having dropped them in despair. You can tell that he’s made up his mind and, despite it being an obviously valid decision considering the situation, you’re hurt that he’s done so without consulting you. “So, you’re just leaving?” you say, stunned.
“I have to,” he responds, finally pulling his shirt over his head.
You stare at him as he packs up his uniform and puts his gear into the locker. You want to tell him that he can’t leave; he can’t because you can’t stand the idea of him leaving. But he’s already resumed his stoic expression, so you can’t possibly tell him that you’re in love with him now. “That’s some bullshit,” you comment resentfully.
He pulls his duffel bag over his shoulder and glances over your face as he straightens his posture. “Lieutenant,” he says. “You’re still not listening to me.”
You grit your teeth in anger. “Luckily, it won’t be a problem for very much longer,” you reply coolly.
He nods, then he steps over the bench to head for the door.
You glance after him, barely able to hold back your tears. “How could you?” you yell, no longer capable of keeping it together.
Maverick turns back in alarm. He drops his bag and, in two wide strides he’s standing right before you with a severe expression on his face. “Are you kidding me?” he hisses. “Why are you screaming?” He looks over his shoulder to ensure that the door is still closed.
You scoff. Of all things, he chooses to dwell on your momentary lapse in self-control. “Stop pretending like this means nothing to you,” you spit out angrily.
His eyes widen and his eyebrows converge. “That’s the impression you got from I can’t perform my duty if it means putting your life in danger?”
You open your mouth to say something, but his words have rendered you temporarily speechless. Finally, you remind him, “Putting my life on the line is my job.”
Maverick sets his jaw. “Precisely.”
“So, you’re going to run away because it’s a challenge?”
“It’s not just a challenge, Y/N,” he says. “It’s not possible. This was never going to work! Perhaps under different circumstances…” he sighs miserably. “We knew that!”
You let out a strangled breath. “I didn’t.”
His eyes search yours as though he can’t believe you haven’t come to the same conclusion. “Not only is it completely out of line for me to pursue a relationship with a lieutenant in my own squadron, but we also keep glossing over the fact that you are half my age! How could this have possibly gone anywhere?”
You feel the trembling of your bottom lip and bite into it forcefully, closing your eyes. “Please don’t go,” you whisper. “I… I –” I love you, is what you ought to say. But, instead, you utter, “I’ll stop disobeying orders.”
“That’s not what this is about” –
“I won’t question you,” you continue, opening your eyes. “I won’t seek you out. It’ll be just like before. A strictly professional relationship, nothing more. Just please don’t go.”
“It won’t change how I feel” –
“It will,” you assure him. “It will… in time. You’ll see. We can do this. You don’t have to go.”
Maverick watches you skeptically so you extend your hand to him to formally shake on it. His gaze sweeps over your features and the heartache is apparent in his eyes. “I can’t,” he says, but you can sense the hesitation in his words.
“You’re Maverick Mitchell,” you say, trying to sound casual while your heart hammers with dread. “Of course, you can.”
Maverick’s mouth twitches upward slightly, although his eyes still watch you sadly. Finally, he places his hand in yours. His grip isn’t nearly as firm as you’d expect; in fact, he’s barely touching you. “For the record,” he says, “I think this is a terrible idea.”
You let out a nervous chuckle when you glimpse the faint smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “How hard can it be, Captain?” you say lightly.
He glances at you pointedly, then responds cheekily, “It can be very hard, Lieutenant.”
Read Part 5
Tag List:
It's a long one so the rest of the list is in the comments. Hope I got everyone, let me know if I missed you! As always, let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in my works <3
@wandering-wah
@callsign-sunshine
@ghost-heart34
@birdy-bat-writes
@matya4
@wkndwlff
@nyx2021
@bellamy1998
@oliviah-25
@alexxavicry
@army24--7
@thefandomimagines
@dracosluvbot
@smit41
@scenesofobx
@Criminalmindsandmarvel
@lunamoonbby
@malums-trash-can
@malindacath
@karleetakeenan
@callsign-echo
@toothemoonanddback
@broketraveler87
@atarmychick007
@shanimallina87
@creativitybeware
@xoxabs88xox
@Yoyop7
@hallecarey1
@nik2blog
@rrocky0ah
@kpopgirlbtssvt
@lilianashomaresparza
@latetedslesetoiles
@Elenavampire21
@starberryhorse
@ginger-gabsq
@sarcastic-sourwolf
@risingtripletaurus
@callsignmaverick5
@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell
@hermaeusmorax
@littlebadariell
@simp-for-fictional-people
@ollyoxenfrees
@iamabeautifulperson18
@living-in-my-imagination88
@wintercap89
@mavrellover91
@gingerbreadandpaper
#pete mitchell#maverick#pete maverick mitchell#top gun#tom cruise#maverick imagine#top gun maverick#maverick x reader#maverick fanfic#pete mitchell x reader#maverick x y/n#maverick x you#maverick mitchell#pete mitchell x you#pete mitchell x y/n#pete mitchell imagine#tom cruise fanfiction#tom cruise x female reader#tom cruise imagine#maverick fluff
914 notes
·
View notes
Text
It Was You
pete “maverick” mitchell x reader
summary: when maverick knocks on your door, your true feelings emerge.
warnings: friends with benefits, student/instructor dynamic, age gap (not mentioned), language, drunkenness, make-out session
wc: 823
a/n: based on this request! not necessarily exactly like the song but there’s angst. hope you enjoy!
It had been almost two months since you broke things off with Maverick.
Not that the two of you were really dating, it was more of a friends with benefits type relationship, but after a month you realized how bad of an idea it was to fuck your instructor.
You were doing well, but whenever you passed Maverick in the halls on base, he would give you puppy eyes, like he was trying to apologize for something.
One Friday night, you’re at home watching a movie with your new fling. He’s nothing to write home about, but you needed someone to get your mind off of Maverick.
Suddenly, there’s a knock on your door.
“I’ll get it,” you say, standing up from the couch and heading to the front door.
When you open the door, your smile fades.
“What are you doing here?”
“I miss you,” Maverick mumbles. You can smell whiskey faintly on his breath.
“Maverick,” you sigh. “You’re drunk. Please go home.”
“Not drunk,” he continued to mumble.
“Mav, this is embarrassing, please go.”
Ryan walks up behind you. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, he was just leaving, right, Pete?”
The use of his name over his call sign stings not just Maverick, but also you.
Maverick nods, and stumbles off your porch.
“Wait,” you call out. Maverick stops, back still to you.
You turn to Ryan. “I need to get him home before he does anything he’s gonna regret in the morning. I’ll be back soon, okay?”
“How do I know you’re not gonna do anything?” Ryan asks.
“Trust me, nothing’s going to happen.”
Ryan stares at you for a moment.
“I’ll be right back,” you mutter, stepping across the threshold.
Maverick is still waiting at the bottom of your steps.
“Why did you come here?” you hiss.
“I miss you,” he repeats, looking at the ground.
You grab his arm and start to lead him to his house.
“Mav, I told you.”
“You don’t look happy with him,” Maverick frowns.
“This is not your place to tell me who I can and can’t date,” you quip.
“Gimme another chance,” he pleads.
“We can’t, Pete. You’re my instructor. There are rules.”
“Fuck the rules.”
“Not these rules. You can do whatever the fuck you want up in the air but we have to follow these rules, Mav.”
You guide him up the steps to his house.
“We were good together,” he mumbles.
“Don’t do this, Pete,” you say, feeling your throat close up and tears forming in your eyes.
Maverick looks up at you with sadness in his eyes.
“I won’t, I’m sorry for knocking on your door,” he says, suddenly stone cold sober.
“I need to go before I do something stupid,” you say, turning away. “Goodnight, Mav.”
“Goodnight, y/n,” Maverick whispers.
You go back to your place, where Ryan is still waiting.
Later that night, as you lay in bed with Ryan, you can’t stop thinking about how you’d rather be next to Maverick.
You spend the weekend with Ryan, but your mind is filled with Maverick. As Ryan walks you to your door Sunday night, you find some courage.
“Ryan, I don’t think this is working for me,” you say.
“What?” he asks you.
“I wanted to make this work, but I just don’t have the same feelings that you do for me.”
“It’s Maverick, isn’t it?”
“Ryan, I…”
“No, I get it. Goodnight.”
Ryan turns on his heel and walks away. You watch him walk out of sight and you walk to Maverick’s house.
You knock on his door, and he answers almost immediately.
“Y/n,” he says softly.
“You were right, Mav,” you say, on the verge of tears.
“What?”
“I miss you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you after Friday night.”
Maverick doesn’t say anything.
“If you changed your mind and don’t feel the same anymore, I get it and I’ll leave if you tell me,” you say, rambling.
Maverick leans in and kisses you, hard. Your arms wrap around his neck instinctively, and you push him back inside his house, kicking the door shut behind you.
He pushes you up against the door with a thud. Maverick’s tongue eagerly swipes against your lips, wanting in.
Of course, without any hesitation, you part your lips for him, his tongue moving in and swiping against yours.
A moan slips out of your mouth and into his, and he sighs happily.
“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me,” Maverick tells you.
“You’re the worst thing that’s happened to me,” you tease.
He smiles. “I know you don’t mean that.”
You giggle and kiss him again, happy to be back in his arms.
“I’m sorry I walked away, I was scared,” you say softly.
“Don’t be, y/n,” Maverick reassures you, pulling you in for a hug. He kisses the top of your head.
“Mav,” you sigh, squeezing him tighter, never wanting to let go ever again.
#tom cruise x reader#tom cruise imagine#maverick x reader#top gun x reader#pete mitchell x reader#pete maverick mitchell imagine#pete maverick mitchell x reader#pete mitchell imagine#requests
199 notes
·
View notes
Text
LEONARD NIMOY as Lestat de Lioncourt
Paramount acquired the film rights to Anne Rice’s debut novel Interview with the Vampire in 1976. Leonard Nimoy was lobbying to be cast as the story’s charismatic antagonist, Lestat, by the following year. He told the New York Times that he “could create interest” in the film and that “I want that role. I am right for that vampire.” Nimoy went on to star in a Paramount production shortly afterwards when he brought his iconic character Spock back to the screen in Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979). An Interview with the Vampire adaptation, meanwhile, wouldn’t arrive in theatres until 1994. (source)
#leonard nimoy#lestat#interview with the vampire#iwtv#i know that visually he wasn't right for the role (like even with a blonde wig he probably wouldn't have been right for it)#but ever since I read this months ago I've been imagining a universe in which we got nimoy!lestat#I picture him as being a lot like david bowie's jareth. in my head.#but we'll never know. and for good or ill...tom cruise did nail the assignment.#i still like to wonder 'what if' though!
311 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
footballponce
The Football Ponce
metanoia-world
METANOIA-WORLD
virginie-morgand
Virginie Morgand
tokyo-lockdown
HaVE a nICE daY.
goqkswl
제목 없음