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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years

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There Are Rules

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

Summary: Your risky flying seriously pisses off your instructor at Top Gun and you're about to find out why.

CW: age gap (20-25 years), angsty angst - you've been warned <3

WC: 1600+

“What were you thinking?” Maverick roars, storming into the women’s locker room. “Are you insane?”

“What the hell are you doing in here?” you yell in outrage. Thankfully, the room is empty and you’ve already changed.

“You could have died!” he shouts, slamming the side of his fist into a locker on his way toward you.

“I’m fine!” you protest. “Pilots make controlled landings with one engine all the damn time.”

“You were not in control!” His voice echoes around the room.

“I landed, didn’t I?”

Maverick stops before he’s reached you, bringing a fist to his face as if he’s trying to temper his rage. He lowers his gaze, shaking his head while trying to breathe through the episode. His jaw is clenched tightly as he glances up at you from underneath his furrowed eyebrows.

You hadn’t set out to anger him but, if you were being honest, his reaction doesn’t altogether upset you. You’ve had a crush on your instructor since he walked into the hangar on your first day at Top Gun, but he’s displayed no romantic interest in you whatsoever. In fact, his interactions with you have all been strictly professional and have always occurred in public.

The fact that he is so distraught over your risky landing that he’s burst into the women’s locker room to reprimand you shows that he has reasonably strong feelings about whether you live or die. Which you appreciate.

Maverick breathes out slowly. “You put yourself and your crew in jeopardy,” he says hoarsely. “I can’t have that happen on my watch,” he adds, his jaw shifting as he tries to keep it steady.

“Captain Mitchell, I’m telling you, I had full control” –

“You disobeyed a direct order!” His voice begins to rise again as he steps closer to you.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “With all due respect, sir,” you say, “it was the wrong one.”

“That’s not for you to decide!” he shouts. “I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have.”

“I didn’t want to lose the plane –” you start, but he interrupts you.

“Don’t lie to me,” he hisses.

You sigh. “Fine, sir. I didn’t want to punch out and be grounded for the next six months doing rehab.”

“No, you’d rather leave here in a body bag,” he says with contempt.

You look down, affected by the hostility in his tone. “It won’t happen again,” you respond quietly.

“You’re damn right it won’t,” he says aggressively, taking another step toward you.

You bite your lip, glancing up at him guiltily. You’re surprised to see the tears in his eyes that he’s desperately trying to blink away. “Please don’t kick me out,” you whisper.

He presses his lips together into a thin line and gives his head a slight shake. “I should,” he says, running a hand over his mouth. “But you’re my best pilot.”

You take a shallow breath, feeling the tension in the room as if it were a physical thing. “Thank you,” you mutter, not sure if you’re thanking him for calling you his best pilot or for not stripping you of your wings.

Maverick tears his gaze away from you and you take the opportunity to study him. He’s still in his flight suit which means he came straight here after landing his own jet. His stern expression has softened a touch, although his jaw is still set, and his light eyes seem to be searching for something to look at other than you.

You try in vain to ignore how sexy he looks despite the animosity twisting his features. You’ve wanted him for so long that it almost hurts to look at him. He’s nearly twice your age, and yet, somehow, that only makes him hotter. The fact that he takes his position of authority so seriously that his gaze has never lingered on you for longer than a second, despite your not-so-subtle flirting at the Hard Deck several nights this week, makes him practically irresistible – you haven’t met many men in your life who’ve been immune to your charms. You’ve fantasized about him enough that this entire scenario feels like just another one of your daydreams, except it’ll likely end much sooner than you’d like.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” Maverick says quietly, his voice breaking over the last few words. He closes his eyes for a moment.

He glances back at you and your heart starts racing when your eyes meet. He watches you steadily and you feel as though you might melt under the intensity of his gaze. This is the longest he’s ever maintained eye contact, but you’ll be damned if you look away first. You lick your lips, biting into them nervously, and Maverick’s gaze flits down to witness the action.

Your breath catches when his eyes linger on your mouth. The way he tilts his head before glancing back into your eyes makes your head spin. You want him to step closer, but he obstinately keeps his distance, despite the aching look in his eye.

You decide to throw caution to the wind, peeling your back away from the cold steel of the locker behind you. You take a step forward, lifting your eyes to meet his once more.

His breathing quickens, but he still watches you without looking away – something he’s never allowed himself to do before. “Y/N,” he cautions, furrowing his eyebrows.

You take the desperation in his voice as a sign that he is conflicted, so you draw nearer.

“Y/N,” he repeats, this time in a whisper. You’ve gotten so close that you can feel his breath warm your cheek, but Maverick isn’t stepping away.

You swallow, stretching out your neck to bring your lips closer to his. You feel the violent flurry of butterflies as they descend upon your insides like a swarm of furious locusts. “Captain Mitchell,” you manage to utter.

“Y/N,” he says more forcefully. You feel his hands close around your arms, his grip tightening as he takes a step away from you. “We can’t,” he breathes, holding you at arm’s length.

You stare at him as his façade falls apart. The longing he’s tried so hard to suppress is written all over his face. You understand his reservations but, ultimately, you just want him too much. And now that you know he wants you too, no quantity of moral misgivings is going to stop you. You take a breath and then a defiant step forward. His outstretched arms yield easily as you advance and you can tell that his self-control is hanging by a thread. You lift your face to look at him.

Maverick’s hands slide up your arms, his chest rising and falling at a quickening pace. You feel his fingers skim over your shoulders and glide up your neck until he’s holding your face in his hands. He closes his eyes, letting his forehead meet yours as his ragged breaths warm the space between your lips and his.

Your eyes are half-closed, watching his lips part slowly. But the moment his mouth brushes over yours, your eyes flutter closed and you sink into him instinctively. The force of the kiss is dizzying. Maverick moves forward, absorbing you as the two of you slam into the lockers in behind with impossible force. The impact rattles the metal and the clatter reverberates around the empty room.

His tongue curves into your open mouth as you let out a small gasp, while his hand grips your hip, pressing you into the locker. His mouth moves over yours hungrily, as though kissing you is hardly enough, although the soft touch of his fingers as they glide down the side of your neck is the perfect counterpart to his aggressive kissing style.

But just as his hand begins to slip under your shirt, Maverick pulls away. He turns his back to you, holding a hand to his mouth as he breathes heavily into the silence.

“Maverick” – you start, but he holds up a hand, turning to look at you with a grim expression.

“I have to go,” he says so quietly that his voice cracks.

You stare at him in alarm even as he doesn’t move from the spot.

Maverick closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face. “I am twice your age, Y/N,” he says.

You swallow anxiously. “So?”

He scoffs, meeting your gaze. “I am your instructor. There are rules.”

It’s your turn to scoff. “Since when does Pete Mitchell care about the rules?”

“I care about this one.”

You hold his gaze as he watches you, his teeth grazing his bottom lip, his breathing still uneven from his momentary lapse in self-regulation. “What do you care about more?” you ask quietly.

He flinches slightly as if your words have stung him. “I think you know,” he responds in a whisper, trying to break eye contact but, even as his head turns away, his gaze remains fixed on you.

Your heart is close to leaping right out of your body, but still, you shake your head.

He lets out an unsteady sigh, setting his jaw as he watches you wistfully. “If I don’t walk out right now,” he says, “I won’t be able to walk out at all.”

You feel the whirlwind intensify inside of you. “Then don’t.”

He chuckles, glancing back at you and, for a moment, you think that he might close the gap between the two of you in half a second, but he does no such thing. Instead, he says, “I am leaving because I care about you.” He gives you one last, heartbreaking look. “And you deserve better than this.”

Read Part 2

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call-sign-shark · 1 year

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SACRILÈGE || Teacher!Tom Cruise (+18)

Summary: Mr. Cruise is the director of St. Helena, a religious boarding school for troubling young women. Besides managing the school, he also teaches physics and mathematics. Lost in a forest, St. Helena is said to give a second chance to desperate girls. When your parents sent you there, they expected you to behave... Not to engage in a twisted romance with your teacher

Words: 3k of pure smut

Tags: Religious context, toy, fingering, corruption kink, age gap (reader is in her early 20's and Tom is 45-50), this is straight-up porn with a minimal plot so don't expect this to be a masterpiece. You've been warned. Minor DNI.

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“To solve this equation we will have to…”

Mr. Cruise’s words flew across the room but never really reached you. A small sigh escaped from your juicy lips as you repositioned yourself on the wooden chair. As you did, a delightful surge, followed by a wave of arousal, spread through your whole quivering body. It was like that at each of your movement.

“Now, I’m going to ask one of you to come and solve the new equation I just wrote on the board.”

You slightly wiggled on the chair, pressing your body against its surface a bit harder. It felt so frustrating not to move as you’d wish to… The friction of your panties’ fabric against your swollen and sensitive clit, pleasant at first, had become a lustful torture. It almost made you whimper but, fortunately enough, you had managed to choke it in your throat before it reached your lips. All you wanted was to moan but you knew that if you did, you would be in trouble. The thing was that the heat pooling in your loins was slowly turning into a wildfire, which threatened to burn you from within. You gripped the edge of your seat and clenched your fingers around it, for you did not know what to do anymore to control the pleasure you were experiencing. Your pulsing walls tightened around the vaginal plug that was buried in your drooling cunt and satisfying your growing sexual appetite.

Weeks ago you discussed with the baker’s wife during your gardening time and when the topic of men came you told her, quite timidly, that you never had sex before. She was not particularly surprised. You were trapped in religious boarding school for women after all. However, the baker’s wife still wondered why you had never fucked with a man before your parents dragged you here. To this question, you just shrugged. You were simply not ready. It seemed like your desire only woke up days after your arrival at St. Helena — how ironic. You could have slept with men countless times before, but it was only when you could not do it anymore that your body bloomed with sexual urges.

The first advice your friend gave you was to masturbate, which you did but it could be quite difficult for intimacy was scarce at St. Helena. You shared the dorm with five other girls, and shower time was strictly monitored by the nun in charge of the floor on which your bedroom was. All in all, your whole day was planned down to the minute. As a consequence of this tight schedule, you could not really find the time nor the intimacy to relieve your naughty needs.

There came the idea of the vaginal plug. What happened next was quite simple: you saved the pocket money your parents sent you each week and asked the baker’s wife to buy you something. You had the plug for a few days but it had already become a necessity. The toy was extremely practical for all you had to do was push it inside your pussy and keep it as long as you wish. It was not like someone would rummage through your panties though.

“Y/N. Would you come to the board please?”

Hearing Mr. Cruise voice calling your name snatched you from your pleasure bubble.

“Oh, uh, me?”

“Is there another Y/N in my school I don’t know about?” He replied quietly, but the corner of his lips was tucked in a faint amused smile.

“I am afraid I won’t be able to solve this. To be honest with you I am not good with maths, Sir..” How you managed to line up so many words in a row without stuttering was a mystery.

“That’s okay, Y/N. We’re going to solve it together and I’ll explain the process to the class at the same time.” His forest green eyes stared at you with vivid interest. Your relationship with the attractive Mr. Cruise had been rocky. He was often more demanding with you than with the other girls. It was probably because your parents had warned him you were quite a rebel soul. It seemed like he was looking at you with a bit more of intensity than he should do, but you chased away the thought, certainly influenced by the indescribable arousal the sex toy was giving you. Defeated, you had no other choice than obey Mr. Cruise if you wanted to remain free of all suspicions. Gathering the willpower left in you, you shut your thighs tight and stood up on your staggering feet.

“Are you okay?” He asked, noticing the goosebumps not only on your arms but also on the skin of your legs your high socks could not cover. You were cute in a way he could not speak… Especially when you were wearing your skirt.

“Yes, Sir!” You hurried to reply before making your way to the board under the insistent gaze of your teacher, trying to keep your legs as closed as you could. With each step, another wave of pleasure crashed against your walls and reflected in your whole body. And during the whole walk of shame, Mr. Cruise did not look away, his emerald iris tantalized by the way your hips were swinging … Or by the adorable color your cheeks had turned into when he started talking to you.

“Alright.” Once you reached him, the teacher handed you the white chalk he had been using to write on the blackboard. You took it, barely daring to look at Mr. Cruise’s handsome face. The first time you saw him, you had to ask God for forgiveness in your prayers for a tsunami of obscene thoughts flooded your mind. St. Helena’s director was a breathtakingly attractive man in his late forties or early fifties — you could not tell. But what you could tell was that he inspired you with many wet dreams even though he was more than twice your age and could be your dad. So, looking at his piercing feline eyes when your pussy was tortured by a plug would 100% make you climax here in the middle of the classroom.

You grabbed the chalk and tried to focus on the calculus, but the gears of your brain did not want to work. They remained silent, like the frozen mechanism of some vintage clocks. In spite of the pressure of being in front of the class, your body could not take care of anything else than the maddening sensation of the plug’s egg shape stretching your tight and needy pussy. The sex toy was too big for you inexperienced hole, so you often had trouble putting it in.

“That’s okay, my dear. Let me explain the solution to you.” Joining gestures to words, Mr. Cruise’s large and slightly calloused hand wrapped yours and led the chalk on the board. Warm skin against cold one, the temperature difference between you strengthens the unbearable arousal pooling in your lower back. The musky and manly fragrance of his perfume tingled your nostrils, making you want to bury your face in the crook of his neck as you sat on his lap like a good girl.

No, Y/N! Don’t think about that kind of sinful thing! You forced your mind not to drift from the calculus, but you did not understand a single. Not that you weren’t hearing Mr. Cruise’s seductive voice, but you were not listening to it.

“And that’s how you solve the problem. See, Y/N? That was not so difficult.” He said, with a charming toothy smile etched on his lips.

“Thank you, Sir.” You said, your eyes still fixed on the wooden floor as blood rushed to your face. At least I can go back to my chair, you thought. You had barely moved when the teacher’s hand gently grabbed your wrist. Surprised, you finally glance at him.

“For the last ten minutes of the course, I ask you to stay here,” As he talked, Mr. Cruise gently put his hands on your shoulders and pressed on them. Forced to sit on the edge of his desk, you shut your eyes trying to keep your composure but could not hold the feverish sigh that came out, “So that you’ll be more attentive and you’ll leave the class understanding today’s lesson.” The teacher said with the most caring tone you’d ever heard. He held your shoulders for a little while, pressing on them a bit strongly. You discreetly pulled your lower lips with your teeth to not whimper as the plug pushed deeper into you because of the pressure Mr. Cruise was applying. His forest green eyes shone with a lecherous appetite — Could he know that something was buried in your cunt? No, it was not possible.

The attractive director Cruise finally freed you from his grip and took one quick glance at your perky nipples, which were pointing under the tight fabric of your blouse. Then, he focused back on the class.

The last ten minutes seemed to be hours of endless carnal torture. You felt your pulse in your swollen clit, and all your holes were open in anticipation of getting filled. Tears almost overflooded your Y/EC eyes for the hellish arousal you were undergoing almost made you run out of breath. Desire ignited your virgin body, and the sparkled that originally started the fire was Mr. Cruise.

The ring echoed in the corridor, striking the end of school — or striking a miraculous liberation for you.

“Alright girls, don’t forget to do exercises three and four for tomorrow. See you soon.” The teacher said, hands crossed in his back.

You stood up from the desk, quickly grabbed your stuff, and proceeded to leave the classroom.

“Not you, Y/N.” You froze

“Sir?”

“In my office. Now.” His sweet voice had turned to ice when the last woman exited the room, leaving you and Mr. Cruise alone.

Stricken by panic, your heart quickened and your being shattered. Now you were in trouble.

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You had followed Mr. Cruise to his office in complete silence. Not once you tried to ask him the reason behind such an appointment nor what did you do wrong, for you were far too afraid of the answer. Yet, the most logical part of your mind was trying to soothe your fears: no one could possibly know about the plug. You had managed to hide it so well that no one ever suspected you owned such an object. At this point, the only possible reason behind Mr. Cruise’s reprimands was your distracted behavior during today’s class. The seductive man made you enter the room first so that he could shut the door behind you. What you did not expect was to hear the door’s locking though. Chills ran down your spine as a thin streak of pussy juice ran down your inner thighs.

“Do you know what kind of school St. Helena is, Y/N?” He asked, his words sharp as glass shards. You turned around to look at him.

“A religious boarding school, Sir.”

“A religious boarding school,” The teacher repeated, tilting his head to the side without looking away, “You’re right, dear. So, can I ask you why do you have such a dirty attitude?”

Your heart stopped, thunder-stricken by fear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Sir.” You tried to sound convincing but you stuttered like a guilty child. Mr. Cruise walked to you and leaned to whisper in your ear.

“Bend over the desk.”

Your breath hitched, for the atmosphere thickened in the room. This time, you were shaking like a leaf. Did you hear well?

“Y/N. Bend. Now.” His voice remained quiet but his words were coated with a thrilling coldness. Having no other choice than giving in, you sniffed and bent over the director’s desk, your skirt lifting up and exposing your panties to him as you did so.

“Y/N… You are such a naughty girl,” He said, shaking his head with discontent. However, you could perceive a tint of excitement in his tone. He seemed to genuinely enjoy the whole situation. Mr. Cruise’s grin could not help but stretch further at the sight of the wet spot on the fabric of your panties. He could almost smell your arousal from here, and it was slowly driving him crazy.

“The Devil is in you, I knew it.”

You squealed, for you felt his fingertips brushing your intimate part above your soaked underwear, “So wet…”

You bit your lips, almost choking with shame.

“He makes you mind buzzing with impure thoughts, and you are listening to them.” When he decided he had petted your pussy enough, he pressed his fingers right where your plug was. A feverish and slutty moan escaped from your lips.

“Do you want a man to fuck you, Y/N?”

“N-No, Sir!”

“Little liar,” He growled and his fingers hooked your panties’ fabric to slowly pull it down along your legs. Eyes wide open, your body remained frozen with both terror and intense arousal at the sensation of the room’s fresh air caressing your exposed sensitive folds. No matter how hard you tried, your brain could not get over the fact you were bending over your director’s desk, your pussy in sights , “ You’re such a whore… A whore that needs to feed her greedy cunt even during my class. You should be ashamed.” Something in his voice made you wetter: he was lecturing you, but his breath had become a bit erratic. Now you were convinced he was as turned on as you. A quick look was enough for you to notice the huge bulge between his legs. His cock twitched, hypnotized by the wonderful sight of your glistening lips and your filled hole.

“Confess, or I’ll expose you to the whole school so that they know what a slut you are.

“I-I want to be filled!” You blurred out, desperate.

“Tell me more.”

“I don’t know why, Sir, but I have these constant disgusting urges since I arrived here. My dreams are filled with perverse images, and I wake up in the middle of the night sweaty and soaked with love juice,” As you talked, Mr. Cruise watched the plug move inside your tight walls.

“This is a very serious matter, Y/N.”

“I tried to resist but I crave sex so bad, Sir… I am so sorry!! I won’t do it anymore, I swear I’ll throw this toy away and I’ll behave! But please don’t tell the others!!”

“Hm.” He simply replied, thrilled with arousal and starting to feel too tight in his pants.

Following a serious accident that had happened years ago, Mr. Cruise turned to God and gave up his debauchery to live closer to purity. But when you arrived at St. Helena, you shook all the foundations he had spent the last years building. He who was certain to be immune to sin soon found himself jerking off every night thinking about you, his oh-so-young student. With your perfect curves and your mischievous pout, you swept away his self-control and corrupted his holy heart to the core with obscene urges since the first day he met you.

Mr. Cruise’s senses were overwhelmed: his eyes could not look away from your dripping cunt and the plug. His nose was deliciously assaulted by the faint smell of your perfume. His ears were lulled by your shy whimpers. His mouth was watering at the simple thought of licking your forbidden fruit — and his hands, oh how he wanted them to spank the Devil out from you with them!

Keeping a bit of self-control, he swallowed and brought his hand near your entrance to softy grab the plug’s edge between his fingers.

“Are you virgin, my dear?”

“Y-Yes Sir, I am.”

“So you don’t even know what it feels to have your fragile flower pounded and your inside filled with warm semen?”

Fire rushed to your cheeks and loins at his words, as if your whole body begged for someone to fill every of its hole. Your fingers clenched on the wooden desk, “No I don’t, Sir.”

“Good,” Without the slightest warning, the teacher pulled the toy out of your pussy. An exciting suction noise echoed in the room. This, added to the surprise, caused you to moan louder and wave your hips, asking for more. As soon as he relieved the tension in your walls, glistening love juice flowed from your stretched hole like magical water from the fountain of Youth. Mr. Cruise moistened his lips with his tongue, drooling over the sweet taste of you, “there, love. There…” He whispered with a caring tone, his free hand gently stroking your lips and, sometimes, he pressed the tip of one finger against your hole for it to just drip even more.

At this point, you had to bite your tongue not to beg him to fuck you.

“I’ll keep your misbehavior for myself. Let’s say it will be our little secret,” He started.

You sighed, half reassured even though the shame was still burning your cheeks. The sensation of Mr. Cruise petting your virgin cunt, his fingers grazing your sensitive flesh, and his thumb massaging your swollen clit blissed you out. Mouth half opened, head slightly tilted backward, and eyes shut, you were starting to get dizzy.

“Under one condition,” He grinned, satisfied with the reaction his touch provided you.

“Sir!” You whined as he slipped one finger into you.

“I’ll keep my tongue but, in exchange, I want you to keep that slutty sex toy buried deep in your innocent pussy during each of my lessons.” His words melt like butter. As he talked, he slipped a second finger and started massaging your pulsing walls with back-and-forth movements. Your body answered by arching your back and spreading your legs even wider. Drool dripped from the corner of your lips. This was so humiliating and exciting at the same time you could not resist moving your hips on his fingers, lingering for more and more.

“Y-Yes Sir! Owww more, please Sir!”

But Mr. Cruise pulled out his fingers, doing the exact opposite.

“Enough for today,” He brought his glistening fingers to his mouth and, eager to taste you, he licked your juice from his skin, humming with joy as he did, “Now take your plug back, and go take a shower. Dinner will be served soon, and people will ask questions if they don’t see you there.”

You stood on your shaking legs: he had turned you into a dirty and soaked mess. With an ashamed hand, you leaned to pick your panties up but his hand brutally slapped your butt cheeks. You squealed, half in surprise and half in pain. His lips quirked in a sadistic smirk.

“Hurry up.” He concluded before you left the office with your head down and your pussy dripping. You closed the door behind you and disappear into St. Helena’s dark corridors, sin weighting on your shoulders.

Your twice-your-age teacher just fingered you and you liked it. So much that you’d die for him to do it again. A shaky sigh escaped from your greedy lips, that wanted to taste his. Maybe he was right when he said that the Devil was inside you and everything you did.

And you were ready to embrace it if it meant to drive your teacher pussy drunk for you…

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mmelionsblog · 2 years

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Caught || Young! Pete Mitchell “Maverick”

18+ minors dni, heavy make out session, fighting, blood mention, ugly name calling, happy ending

You had taken in Maverick into your parents house. At the ripe age of nineteen, you fell in love with a guy named Maverick, who was in the navy and was just starting out. He told you stories you’ve never heard from anybody. Not even the ROTC kids who you befriended that joined the military straight out of high school.

You kept your relationship a secret, a five month long lasting relationship. Those five months had felt like a bliss. And that was all coming to a halt when one day, you let Maverick into your house for a steamy make out, that was soon going to turn into something more if your cousin didn’t walk into your room.

“Mav,” you moaned out, his tongue swirling into your mouth as you felt a pool of wetness in between your leg. “Stop teasing,” you giggle. His right hand cupped your boob, and he loved it. He loved playing with your boob but he hated it being dressed. “God I need to get rid of this shirt of yours,” he growled playfully into your ear and you obliged. You picked up your arms, and he was the one to undress your cute top that you wore for your sister’s eighth grade graduation.

His hands touched your bare body, going over the lacy silk pink bra that you had on for just him only to see. His hands holding at your rib cage perfectly. His tongue slid onto your neck, leaving a pool of saliva as you grind onto him. “Are you sure nobody’s home?” He asked, as he heard a door twist and open. “M sure. They’re all out for my sister’s graduation. Should end in a few hours.” You whisper, your mouth kissing his neck and leaving love bites all over. He groans, “god that feels so good baby.” You giggle slightly as he swiftly puts you onto your soft bed. Having him over you with his dog tags in your face.

You grab them and pull them hard, his lips smashing into yours. “Ohh,” you moan out. Your other hand was preoccupied with his back as you scratch at it. He knew he was gonna get it in the showers with the guys when they see his back. “Ohh fuck,” you whine as he slowly teases your pussy. You so badly want him to put a finger in there, but it was all cut off when your cousin opened your door.

Mav’s eyes widen, and yours did too. You push him off and cover yourself with your arms as you saw your oldest cousin with a lollipop in his mouth pop out. “So you’re the one who has a motorcycle out in front.” Alexis mumbled. Then he walked away, and Mav’s widen eyes turn to you. “Your family..” he trialed off. “(Y/n) has a guy in her room!!” Alexis yelled, and you cussed.

Your dad was definitely gonna freak out. And he did. He ran from the kitchen all the way to your room, slamming the door wide open enough to make a dent into the wall. And you saw red in his eyes. “Is this why you wanted to leave early?” He roared, wailing his hands towards to Mav as you quickly put on your shirt. “To be a fucking slut!” He finished. Mav’s eyes squinted at that word and he stood up, covering you for defense.

“Don’t you dare call her that!” He yelled back. And you must admit, he has balls. No guy has ever yelled at your dad up until now. “What the fuck did you just say?” Your dad cussed, pushing Maverick harsh. Your eyes widen as you scoot back onto your bed and Maverick was the first to swing. Yet of course, your dad being older and wiser he dodged. And the two men in your room started to fight.

Your eyes watered, as your dad tackled Mav into the ground. “Mav stop it,” you hiccup. “Pete!” You said, trying to grab his attention. The two men hadn’t hit each other yet, both amazingly dodging the other punch but it wasn’t until when your dad flipped each other over, Maverick on the bottom. The family was outside of your doorway to watch it all witness. Your eyes widen and you scream at your dad, trying to stop but it was only making it worse.

And that’s when it was enough. That’s when your uncle grabbed ahold of your dad, when your dad laid a punch on Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. You were beyond crying and shaking. Your family tried to warm you up, help you, but all your thoughts were swarming you and your eyes were only on Pete. “I want him out of my goddamn house,” your dad spat. And you could smell it. Smell the alcohol. You sniff, glaring at your dad as you help out Pete who was still laying on the ground.

“L-let’s get you cleaned up,” “I should go..” Pete mumbled. Your voice started to shake, and your breathing did too. “N-no Pete, Pete please don’t leave me with him” you cry out, your hand cupped on his face. “Who said I wasn’t taking you?” He chuckled out softly. And your eyes turned into lust, love for the man that stood up for you from you father. “Oh my god you’re bleeding!” You yell, as you see a cut from his eyebrow.

“I’ll be alright-” he protested. “No, I’m cleaning you up. Let’s go to the bathroom, get your jacket and boots we’re leaving after this.” You had finally calmed down, down enough to the point where you could only properly talk to him. You pass a few cousins of yours, who was talking about the whole fight that just happened. They stood their quietly watching, and then you locked the bathroom door.

The walls were thin in the house, and they started to talk. You roll your eyes at them and grab out bandaids to put on his eyebrow. “Hopefully iceman and your friends don’t bump into us. Then they’ll see your a fan of Hello Kitty,” you laugh as you showed the Bandaid to Pete. “Who said I didn’t love Hello kitty?” He snickered with a smile plastered on his face. You clean the cut up first, his eyes closed as you did so.

He pulled you in by the waist, as you made sure the Bandaid stayed. “How did I get so lucky?” He whispers, kissing your lips. “We should go,” he hands you his Bomber jacket and opens the door, as the two of you walk out to the living room which was opened to the kitchen and Dining room, where your family and dad was located. “We’re leaving, we’re leaving don’t worry.” Maverick waved him off as your dad glared at him. “Not you both. Only what- Mav- Mav? Is that his fucking name?” Your dad scoffed.

“His name is Pete Mitchell, Call Sign: Maverick. And y-yes,” you stutter out, grabbing your boyfriend’s arm and putting it around you. “We are leaving.” Your mother shook her head. “Not on that bike you aren’t.” She warned. The whole family in your house watched you intensely. Maverick looked over you with questioning eyes. “We are.” You finish, rushing out of the house with the brightest smile, running to the bike because your father had yet again ran after you two. Maverick started it in big time.

“If you leave this goddam house, you’re grounded for a month!” You heard him yell. But you pretended to not hear him, due to how loud Mav’s bike was. Your family was watching with wide eyes, seeing what you were about to do. You were never the trouble maker for the family, so when all this ruckus was made they expected you to be a good girl, to listen to your father. But you didn’t. “Sorry what? I can’t hear you!” You yell, snuggling and giggling up to Pete as he road off from the house.

#pete mitchell #pete mitchell x you #pete mitchell x reader #pete mitchell x y/n #maverick x y/n #maverick x reader #maverick x you #top gun maverick #top gun #iceman #tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #Tom cruise x you

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mitchellpete · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 6 - Cockwarming

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

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

word count: 1875

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He cocks an eyebrow, curious.

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

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

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

“Try something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A minute passes.

Two minutes pass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of you last very long.

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

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

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

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

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icemankazansky · 1 year

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Top Gun + Lucky Number Slevin

#top gun #top gun: maverick #lucky number slevin #incorrect top gun #incorrect top gun quotes #incorrect icemav quotes #icemav #iceman x maverick #top gun og #top gun 1986 #language warning #dick jokes #tom cruise #maverick mitchell #val kilmer #iceman kazansky #lucky number slevin is in my top ten favorite movies of all time and if you haven't seen it why #my gifs

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kyber-crystal · 9 months

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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

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sluttyhenley · 11 months

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I’m coming with you.

MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT dir. Christopher McQuarrie (2018)

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i-wear-wet-socks313 · 1 year

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POV: you brought a camera to your top gun training in 1986 and are determined to capture every minute

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun movie #maverick x you #top gun 1986 #top gun fandom #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x reader #slider x reader #nick goose bradshaw #pov #slider #val kilmer #tom cruise #rick rossovich #anthony edwards #great balls of fire

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justabigassnerd · 5 months

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Unexpected

Pairing - Jack Reacher x child!reader

Word count - 2,322

Warnings - gun violence, death, blood mentions, child endangerment, angst, lil' pinch of fluff

Summary - on a mission wherein he saves a child, Jack Reacher finds himself forming an unlikely softness towards the young child

A/N - oooh this is new isn't it?? this was a request sent in by @fangirl23obession so I hope I did the idea justice. writing for Jack ended up being a lot harder than I anticipated so I hope this is an okay read for y'all. as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

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While travelling the states, Jack had caught wind of some suspicious activity within an Army regiment and so naturally went to investigate further. He didn’t care that he wasn’t technically part of the military anymore. When he got involved in something he was going to see his investigation through until the end.

The Army, knowing who he was and still respecting his rank despite him not being part of the Army anymore, let him weigh in on the ongoing investigation into how a soldier had gone completely AWOL with no evidence of foul play yet before he disappeared, he had been disappearing for hours at a time late at night and returning only in the early hours of the morning. At first, his comrades and superiors thought he was sneaking out to go to nearby bars and spend the night with people outside of the Army but when his superiors went to nearby bars to question the staff, they all denied seeing him at all.

As the investigation progressed, Jack found more and more evidence pointing towards a group of former military personnel who were trying to gain power to supposedly take back from their former places of work. Jack didn’t understand why such a group existed and quite frankly he didn’t care. He was there to do a job and that’s what he was going to do before moving on. He’s dealt with much worse in his lifetime. He wasn’t about to let one measly group of rogue soldiers do any damage.

What Jack could never have predicted was them scooping up a child off the streets and taking them hostage as a way to try and convince people to listen to their demands. With that newfound information, Jack was preparing to go off in search of the group to end them once and for all. The Army, of course, insisted he take some soldiers with him to assist in the whole ordeal and while Jack would rather go about everything himself, he knew he had very little say in the matter so allowed them to come with the one rule that they listen to everything he says. He is in charge of this operation and he’s not going to let anyone undermine him on this mission.

When Jack tracked down the base of the group, he took the soldiers assigned to his mission with him and headed to the old warehouse as he muttered to himself about the cliché of it all. When they arrived at the warehouse, of course, there was a group of ex-soldiers waiting for them, so Jack and his team immediately came under fire and were forced into cover. Jack commanded his team with ease, his military background having never left him and orders slipped from his mouth before his brain could even catch up. He managed to advance forward and make his way into the warehouse, taking down any men who refused to back down.

When he finally fought his way through the splinter cell of rogue soldiers, he reached what he could only assume was the main operations room where the leader had chosen to hide out, a young girl tight in his grip as he held his gun towards Jack.

“You better back up there, Reacher. You don’t want anything to happen to this kid now, do you?” The leader growls, moving his gun to be placed against your temple as more tears work their way down your cheeks as you squirm to try and get out of the man’s iron grip.

“The kid isn’t part of this. Let her go.” Jack says, his gun trained expertly on the man standing before him. He longed to pull the trigger, to end all this mess right here and now but he held his itchy trigger finger back. He knew he couldn’t fire his weapon now, not in front of a young child.

“If I let the kid go, you’ll just kill me. I’m not that stupid.” The leader snaps angrily, the barrel of the gun digging further into your temple with each word that leaves his mouth and Jack quickly begins to figure out a solution.

“Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to put my gun down and you’re going to let the kid go. I won’t try anything. In fact, I’ll let you go.” Jack bargains, beginning to lower his weapon, crouching down and placing his gun on the floor before holding his hands up in surrender.

“I heard your men out there, they’ll kill me.” The man then says, his anger never diminishing.

“They’re only out the front of the warehouse, I never thought to send anyone around the back, so you have a free escape if you go now. Just let the kid go.” Jack says, slowly straightening up and loosely gesturing to the door behind the leader. He remained silent for a moment, eyes flicking between the door and Jack, watching warily to see if he’d dive for his weapon. Keeping his gun trained on your temple, the leader begins to back away towards the door, moving the gun away from your temple momentarily to open the door before returning it to where it was against the side of your head, ignoring the slight whimper that left your lips as the gun digs into your temple again. The man glances between Jack and his doorway to freedom before harshly shoving you to the floor and exiting the warehouse, slamming the door behind him. Jack picked up his gun and made his way over to you, helping you get to your feet, and you immediately clung to his leg, taking him aback slightly. As you clung to his leg, Jack heard a singular gunshot ring out from outside. He knew it was a good idea to bring along a sniper.

“Are you hurt, kid?” Jack then asks, reminding himself of the task at hand as he carefully detaches you from his leg and crouches down to be at your height. You didn’t respond vocally to Jack’s question, just shaking your head as more tears rolled down your cheeks. Despite you shaking your head, Jack checked you over anyway, just to be sure. Once he was satisfied that you were indeed unharmed, he looked at you once more.

“What’s your name?” Jack asks, the gentlest tone to his voice that sounded foreign even to him.

“y/n.” Came your mumbled response, throat thick with tears as you wiped at your eyes harshly.

“Hi, y/n. I’m Jack.” Jack introduces himself to you, doing his best to maintain a gentle tone to not frighten you.

“Do you know where your parents live, y/n?” He then asks, receiving another head shake from you and fighting back a sigh as he glances up as if the ceiling held all the answers. He shouldn’t have expected a young child to know their parent’s address, but it would’ve made his life a lot easier.

“I don’t have any.” You mumble, making Jack look at you curiously.

“You don’t have parents?” He asks cautiously, hoping he somehow heard you wrong but when you nod in response, he lets out a soft sigh. You couldn’t be much older than five and he felt awful that you had no parents.

“I’m going to take you someplace safe, and we’ll talk with some people I know and look at finding you a nice place to live.” Jack says finally, straightening up and immediately you cling to his hand with your small one.

“Okay, kid. I’m going to need you to close your eyes while we leave the warehouse. I won’t let you trip or fall. Promise me you’ll keep your eyes closed.” Jack instructs, looking down at you as you nod, closing your eyes and clasping your free hand over your eyes for good measure. He didn’t want you to see the blood and dead bodies he knew were on the other side of the door. True to your promise, you kept your eyes closed the whole way through the warehouse, your nose wrinkling at the overwhelming stench of iron but you kept your eyes covered the whole time until Jack told you it was okay for you to open your eyes. When you uncover your eyes and blink them open, you discover that you’re standing in front of a car and Jack opens the door for you to climb in. A soldier offers you a hand to help you climb into the car, but you shy away, your grip tightening on Jack’s hand.

“Come on, in you get.” Jack says, letting you hold his hand to climb up into the car, curling up in one of the seats as soon as you’re in the car, eyeing the other soldiers standing by the car carefully. Sensing your discomfort, Jack climbed in the other backseat to offer a familiar presence and he hadn’t anticipated you clinging to his hand once more. If it had been any other situation, Jack was sure he would’ve taken his hand right out of your grip but there was something about the way you only trusted him that made his usually icy heart melt just a little.

The journey back to the military base was short and silent and when you all got out of the car, you were immediately clinging to Jack once more as he led you into one of the offices where Jack’s arrival was expected. The moment Jack entered the room and stood in the middle of the office, you hid behind his legs, aware of all the eyes that were on you as the Colonel stood from his desk.

“Ladies, would you two take young…” The Colonel begins, gesturing loosely in your direction as he realised, he didn’t know your name.

“y/n.” Jack fills in the blank for him.

“y/n. Thank you, Reacher. Take y/n here and get her washed and a change of clothes while we discuss the operation if you, please.” The Colonel finishes, and as the two approach you, you shy away further behind Jack’s legs.

“Hey kid, you go ahead and go with them, okay? They’re just going to get you cleaned up. I’ll be here when you’re done.” Jack says down to you as your head pokes out from behind his legs, looking up at him before tentatively stepping out from behind his legs and letting the two women usher you away so Jack and the Colonel can talk. Jack goes into detail regarding the mission and how it was successful before the subject moves on to returning you to your family.

“She told me she doesn’t have any parents. I don’t know what happened to them, but it seems she’s been alone for a while.” Jack explains as the Colonel nods along to Jack’s words, brow furrowing in thought.

“Okay, I’ll call up Child Protective Services and I’m sure they’ll find a safe and stable home for her.” The Colonel states, reaching for his office phone just as Jack speaks up.

“Actually, Sir. I’d like to take care of her.” The words left his mouth with no hesitation which took the Colonel by surprise. Jack Reacher was never a man who had shown much care for those around him, but you had come along and showed a side of him no one had seen before.

“Are you sure, Reacher? With your lifestyle, she wouldn’t have a very stable life.” The Colonel says, hand hovering over the phone as he watches Jack carefully.

“I’m very sure.” Jack nods, and the Colonel mirrors his action, his hand withdrawing from the phone. Just as the Colonel backs away from the phone you come rushing back into the office, sporting new clothes and damp hair, greeting Jack happily as he crouches down to be at your level.

“I got a choice for you. The Colonel here can call some people who will help find you a nice home, or you could come with me. It’s up to you.” Jack offers up the two choices and you fall silent, eyebrows bunched up as you think.

“I wanna stay with you.” You finally state, grinning at Jack who nods, straightening up and allowing you to grab hold of his hand as he turns to look over at the Colonel.

“Thank you for your assistance, Reacher. Maybe I’ll see you again.” The Colonel says, dismissing the two of you and you leave the base, skipping happily alongside Jack. Jack takes you to grab a quick meal while telling you that you’re both going to get on a bus after and head someplace new which you were excited about. When you got to the bus station, Jack paid for the two tickets, and you boarded the bus. You immediately claimed the window seat and Jack took the aisle seat. But Jack didn’t mind one bit, being on the aisle seat meant he could protect you much easier.

When the bus first departed, you were happily whispering to Jack about how excited you were about everything but soon they were replaced with stifled yawns.

“How about you take a nap, kid? I’ll wake you up when we get there.” Jack says softly, taking his jacket off and draping it over you like a blanket as you curl into the jacket, eyes soon closing. With you soon asleep, Jack figures he should get in some sleep of his own and rests his head against the chair and lets his eyes close.

When he feels a small weight rest against his arm his eyes slowly peel open again, glancing down to see you slumped against his arm. With the corners of his mouth twitching up into the smallest of smiles, he carefully winds his arm around you, tucking you into his side as you curl further into him a sleepy smile covering your own face.

Maybe being a parent wasn’t out of his comfort zone after all.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #little reacher #little reacher universe #jack reacher #jack reacher movie #jack reacher x reader #jack reacher x y/n #jack reacher x you #jack reacher x child!reader #tom cruise #top cruise jack reacher #jack reacher never go back #tom cruise movie #x child reader

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worldofheroes · 6 months

Text

Off the Clock

tom cruise x nurse!fem!reader

summary: after Tom’s discharge from the hospital, he gives the cute nurse his phone number, hoping she’ll call.

warnings: 18+, language, age gap (not mentioned), unprotected sex

wc: 1.7k

a/n: based on this request! smut included 😉

You knock on the doorframe to your next patient’s room.

“Good morning, Tom,” you say, entering the room.

“Y/n,” Tom smiles. “I wasn’t sure if I would see you again before I left.”

“I guess today is your lucky day,” you smile, moving the vitals cart to the side of the bed.

You take Tom’s vitals and make notes that you’ll later enter into the computer.

“I’m not used to seeing these kind of stats,” you tease. “Better than mine!”

“Oh, that can’t be true,” Tom says, reaching out and grabbing your hand.

“Tom,” you lightly scold.

Tom brings your hand to his face, where he kisses your hand gently.

“You’ve been amazing,” he says.

“It’s my job,” you retort.

“No, you’re special.”

You feel your face getting hot, and you hope you’re not turning red.

“I need to continue my rounds, Tom,” you whisper.

“Here,” Tom says, dropping your hand and reaching across his bed to grab a piece of paper.

He hands the folded piece of paper to you.

“My number. Give me a call when your shift ends. 3pm, right?”

“Tom,” you whisper.

“Please, y/n.”

“Okay,” you finally agree.

Tom beams.

“I’ll be back later to check on you, okay?”

Tom nods.

Later, as you’re working on charts, the nurse call light turns on.

“Lydia, can you get that for me?” you ask your colleague.

Lydia nods and walks away from the desk. She comes back a minute later.

“What do they need?” you ask, eyes still glued to the computer.

“It’s Tom,” she says. “He wants you.”

You roll your eyes. “Thanks.”

You finish your chart and head to his room.

“Tom, you can’t do this,” you say in a hushed voice.

“I just wanted to see my girl,” Tom says.

“Tom,” you scold, walking to his bed and turning the nurse light off. “I have work to do.”

“I’m going to get discharged soon, I just wanted to see you before I left.”

“You said that earlier this morning when I saw you.”

“I wanted to see you again,” Tom smiles.

You shake your head. “You are ridiculous.”

“You’re going to call me after your shift, right?”

“I’ll think about it,” you tease him.

There’s a knock on the door.

“May I come in?” Susan, the discharge nurse, asks.

“Of course,” you say, smiling. “I hope everything goes well for you, Tom.”

“I think I’ll find out this afternoon,” Tom says, giving you a wink.

You roll your eyes, smiling at Tom’s antics.

You head back to the nurse’s station, and a few minutes later, Tom walks by.

“Thanks again, y/n,” he says, patting the desk as he walks by.

“Bye Tom,” you say to him.

Lydia smiles at you. “He was flirting with you the entire time he was here.”

“I know,” you say, still watching Tom walk down the hallway.

Before Tom steps in the elevator, he gives you another smile.

You reach into your scrub top pocket and pull out the piece of paper Tom handed you. It just has a phone number on it.

The rest of the day, you’re thinking about Tom and can barely focus.

Finally, you clock out and as you walk out of the hospital, you call the number on the piece of paper.

“This is Tom.”

“So you did give me a real number,” you say.

“Y/n.” You can tell Tom is smiling on the other end of the phone.

“This is me, giving you a call after my shift.”

“I’m glad you called. I’d like for you to come over.”

“That’s forward of you.”

“I can’t help myself.”

You sigh. “Text me the address.”

“That’s my girl. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, Tom,” you say, then hang up the phone.

Your phone vibrates with a text from Tom. You plug the address into your GPS and head to your car.

When you get to the address, you find a place to park and make your way inside the condo building.

“How can I help you?” a tall, buff man asks you.

“Um, I’m.. I’m looking for Tom Cruise?”

“Are you y/n?”

“Yes.”

“Come with me.”

He leads you to an elevator, and it’s a quiet, awkward ride to Tom’s condo.

“Tom, y/n is here,” the man calls out.

“Thank you, I’ll be right there,” he calls back.

The man leaves you standing awkwardly in the condo.

Tom walks around the corner, and his face lights up when he sees you.

“Y/n,” he says, walking up and giving you a hug.

You accept the hug, and become a little dizzy at the smell of Tom. He smells so good.

“Sorry I’m still in my scrubs, I didn’t bring a change of clothes and my place wasn’t along the way…” you ramble.

“Why don’t you change into something of mine?” Tom suggests.

“I guess I could…”

Tom smiles reassuringly and kisses the top of your head.

“Follow me,” he says, holding a hand out.

You take it and he leads you through the condo to his bedroom.

He shuffles through some clothes and hands you a black v-neck t-shirt and gray sweatpants.

“I hope these will work.”

“They’ll be just fine,” you smile.

You walk into the bathroom and close the door. You slip off your scrubs and pull Tom’s shirt over your head.

It smells like him. You close your eyes, inhaling the comforting scent.

You pull the sweatpants on, and they’re a little big but they’ll work for tonight.

You open the bathroom door and find Tom scrolling through his phone on the bed. He looks over at you.

“Fuck,” he says.

“What?” you ask.

“You look so fucking hot wearing my clothes.”

You laugh awkwardly. “You’re being very forward with your feelings.”

“I’m sorry, I just thought you were so beautiful when I first saw you and I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he says, standing up from the bed.

He walks over to you and gently takes your hands.

“Tom,” you whisper.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes. “I want to be with you.”

You study his face and find yourself lost in his green eyes.

“Fuck it,” you say, leaning up and kissing him.

Tom wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. You melt into his touch, and a small, appreciative moan slips out of you.

Tom pulls you with him as he walks backwards to the bed before he sits down on the mattress.

You move to straddle his lap, and his hands cup your ass as the two of you continue to kiss.

Tom’s tongue slides across your lips, asking permission. You grant him access, and as your tongues work together, he falls backwards on the bed, letting you be on top.

“Tom,” you moan.

His hips roll up into you. “Y/n,” he says.

“Fuck,” you sigh, rutting against his crotch to get friction.

“Easy,” he chuckles, working at his pants.

You lift off his body and slip your sweatpants off.

Tom moans and rubs himself through the fabric of his boxers.

“Fuck the boxers,” you say lowly, pulling them down, releasing his cock from the restrains of clothing.

“Mm, didn’t know you could be so naughty,” he hums with a pleased smile.

You wrap your hand around his cock and give it a stroke, making his cocky face contort into pleasure; eyes closed, mouth agape.

You stroke him slowly, watching him.

“Oh, y/n,” he moans.

You hum in satisfaction. Your other hand gathers saliva from your mouth, and you start stroking him with that one as the other goes to your folds.

“Let me,” Tom says, pulling your hand away from your center.

His fingers dive between your folds, making you buck in pleasure.

You’re already pretty slick, so Tom easily pushes a finger inside.

“Shit, Tom,” you sigh.

He works a little faster at you. You stop stroking his cock as your mind goes blank when he pushes another finger in, working at your g-spot.

“Don’t stop, baby girl,” he says gruffly.

“Can’t… focus,” you stammer.

Tom pulls his fingers out, bringing you back to reality.

“That didn’t mean stop,” you tell him.

Tom smiles as he pulls your shirt off, then his own. He pushes you backward and gets on top.

“Tom,” you gasp.

Tom kisses you and swipes the head of his cock between your folds.

You moan into his mouth, and he pushes deeper into you.

“Oh my god,” you mutter against his lips.

He bottoms out against you. “I’ve been wanting to do this since I met you.”

“Oh,” you sigh, arching your back. “Then fuck me.”

“Shit,” he mumbles as he starts to thrust into you.

The quiet room soon fills with the sound of bodies making contact and you and Tom’s moans and curses.

Tom starts to work faster and harder, hitting the right spot every time.

“Right there!” you cry out, unable to contain yourself.

He continues his work, going harder and faster with each thrust.

You feel the familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach, building and building with each thrust.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna come,” you tell him.

“Me too,” he says in a strained voice. “Where can…”

“In me,” you moan. “Please.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, oh, Tom, please, I want your cum filling me,” you moan.

“Shit,” he mutters.

You cry out upon your release, gripping Tom’s arms. Soon after, his hips falter and he releases himself into you, filling you with his warm cum.

After a moment, Tom pulls out of you, and you feel his cum drip out.

“Shit, Tom, I think…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, kissing you.

“I wasn’t expecting this when I came over,” you laugh.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same way,” Tom chuckles. “I guess we know.”

He lays down beside you and pulls you close. You rest your head on his shoulder and drape an arm over his torso.

“Wanna make this a regular thing?” Tom asks.

“Yeah?” you say.

“Yeah. Maybe get serious if we want, but I like your company.”

You laugh. “I think you like my pussy.”

“It’s an added bonus,” Tom laughs.

You prop yourself up on an elbow, studying his face.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, let’s see what happens,” you tell him, giving him a kiss.

“I’d like that,” Tom smiles.

#tom cruise x reader #tom cruise imagine #ethan hunt x reader #tom cruise x female reader #tom cruise x you #maverick x reader

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years

Text

Ride of a Lifetime

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Reader

Summary: A day at an amusement park with Maverick and Goose.

CW: pining; be warned: that's basically all this is 😅

The photo that inspired this fic:

It’s not hot. In fact, it’s bordering on chilly. You zip your hoodie all the way up to your chin, watching as Goose and Maverick start hopping the queue rails to bypass the empty rows so they can get to you. Maverick jumps over several in quick succession while Goose loses his momentum after a few and stoops down, hands on his knees, to catch his breath. He peeks up at his friend, who does another three or four leaps before realising Goose isn’t right behind him.

Goose shakes his head, chuckling mildly, when Maverick glances over his shoulder to check on him. Goose holds up a hand. “I’m alright,” he calls. “Go on without me!”

Maverick cackles as Goose straightens his back and starts sprinting through the winding rows instead of hopping the rails.

“Race you!” Goose yells, speeding up.

Maverick grins at him and, shooting a determined look in your direction, starts vaulting the bars anew. You gaze at him with an amused expression as he arrives – first – at your side. He raises his arms in the air, turning to wave them at Goose, who is still jogging his way over.

“I win!” he exclaims.

“Technically, I win,” you say with a grimace.

He turns to you with pursed lips. “You had a head start,” he responds.

You raise your eyebrows. “Sounds like an excuse.”

He narrows his eyes. “I want a rematch.”

You give him a sympathetic smile. “You would.”

“What does that mean?” He scoffs in offense just as Goose finally reaches the two of you, wheezing heavily.

Maverick claps Goose on the back a few times. “You made it, bud,” he says.

Goose gives Maverick a look and Maverick bites his lip to keep from laughing. With a groan, Goose rolls back his shoulders and stares up at the ride at the end of the queue. “Uhh,” he says. “I’m not going on that.”

Maverick and you exchange looks and then Maverick starts laughing. You’re also giggling as you observe Goose’s terrified expression, wondering if he’s being serious.

“Goose, you’re a goddamn scope,” Maverick exclaims. “You fly fighter jets for a living!”

“Yeah,” Goose nods. “I trust you,” he says. Then he looks back up at the swinging pendulum that’s currently suspending fifty people upside down as they scream with glee – or terror. “I don’t trust that,” he finishes, pointing at the amusement park ride with his thumb.

“Don’t be silly, Goose,” you say. “This contraption is infinitely safer than Mav’s flying.”

“Hey!” Maverick shouts in outrage.

You shrug your shoulders, but Goose is shaking his head and backing away. “No, no,” he says. “I’m hungry anyway.”

“You’re not serious,” Maverick states incredulously as Goose starts to jog back through the rows.

“Dead serious,” Goose calls back. “I’ve got a wife and kid to think about!”

Maverick turns back to look at you with a bemused smile. “Sometimes, I really wonder about him,” he says.

You watch Goose over Maverick’s shoulder as he winks at you, giving you two thumbs up, and you close your eyes briefly, groaning inwardly.

As it turns out, Maverick’s insightful backseater had discovered that you harbor feelings for your mutual friend and, as any dedicated companion would, he has become an immediate benefactor of your as yet nonexistent relationship. You should’ve known his sudden disinterest in the ride was all an act. What’s worse, you fear that Maverick might see through the charade and, mulling over Goose’s sudden fear of heights, realize that he is simply trying to win you some alone time with his best friend.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared too,” Maverick says, eyeing you warily.

You realize you’ve been silent for a minute, evaluating the efficacy of Goose’s strategy. “Of course not,” you respond quickly, not meeting his gaze. You find it extremely nerve-wracking conversing with Maverick without Goose present. Goose tends to fill in the gaps effortlessly. You swallow, watching the ride swing from side to side, and stick your hands into your pockets, shivering slightly.

“Here,” Maverick says, shrugging off his bomber jacket. “Take this.”

“No, I’m fine!” You withdraw as he tries to drape it over your shoulders.

Maverick gives you an unconvinced look. “I can hear your teeth chattering.”

You stare at him. “You cannot.”

“Come on, I’m hot anyway,” he says.

You glance at his bare arms despite your best effort to keep your eyes squarely on his face. He is hot, you think to yourself with another silent groan. So hot it hurts. “You’re in a t-shirt, Mav,” you say. “I’m not stealing your jacket.”

Maverick steps closer to you and swings the jacket around your shoulders, defiantly meeting your gaze. “You’re not stealing it,” he says. “I’m offering it to you.”

You can’t deny how warm you feel the moment he wraps the jacket around you. You don’t bother sliding your arms through the sleeves, but he tugs on either side of the zipper, trapping the heat inside. His hands remain on the jacket as his eyes linger over yours. Your face starts to heat up under his gaze, what with the leather jacket shielding you from the breeze while your body suddenly becomes a furnace. “Thanks,” you say quietly, your eyes dropping to the empty space between the two of you. You notice that his biceps are flexed as though he’s tense. He lets out a sigh, releasing the jacket, and takes a step back.

“Anytime,” he responds.

You give him a tight smile, cursing yourself for being so painfully awkward. You remind yourself that Maverick is your friend – your colleague. You’ve spent the last few weeks training alongside him, listening to him ramble on at length about unsuccessful hops with the help of fighter plane models and Goose’s wiseacre commentary in the briefing room, and flying on his wing against the backdrop of the bright blue, California sky. You’ve even had the pleasure of defusing a particularly hostile dispute between him and Iceman in Goose’s absence. You’re pretty sure that, had you not been there, Maverick’s fist would have ended up in or around Iceman’s face. So why are you suddenly feeling so nervous today?

You decide that it’s Goose’s fault. Now that he knows – now that he’s on board – you’re feeling pressure to act on something you meant to keep hidden away. Something you meant to forget after Top Gun. After all, you’ll both be going back to your respective squadrons once your training in the Navy Fighter Weapons School is complete. Your paths to rarely – if ever – cross again.

You contemplate all this in silence as the line moves forward. The next thing you know, you and Maverick are up next, and your heart does a little flip of anticipation thinking about the ride you’re about to take.

“You ready?” Maverick asks.

You turn to look at him and smile. The ride is the one thing you’re not worried about. You nod.

He grins back at you as the gate opens, holding his arm out, gesturing for you to go first. You step out onto the platform, sliding your arms into Maverick’s jacket and zipping it up. It’s several sizes too big and when you glance over your shoulder at Maverick, he’s smirking at you.

“Do I look ridiculous?” You ask as the two of you shimmy between the seats to get to the back row of the pendulum.

“Not at all,” he responds. “You look good.”

You press your lips together in an attempt to conceal a smile. You get to the end of the row and lower yourself into the seat. The jacket bunches around you uncomfortably but you’re too cold to take it off. Plus, you’re kind of enjoying seeing Maverick in a slim-fitting t-shirt rather than his typical uniform. From your seated angle, you have a remarkable view of his abs as the dark material of his shirt ripples against his body in the wind.

To distract yourself, you try to lift your arms to lower the over-the-shoulder restraints, but the bulky jacket restricts your movement considerably and you can’t quite reach it. Maverick laughs at your feeble attempt to grasp the bar. He steps in front of you and lifts his arms to push down on the restraints. For a split second, his torso looms over you in all its glory and you nearly pass out because he’s so hot it hurts. He presses the restraints into your lap, his face hanging over yours for a moment, and you can smell the aftershave on his skin, your eyes slipping inadvertently to his neck. When you look back up into his eyes, he’s smiling at you. “Is that too tight?” he asks.

You shake your head. “Better too tight than too loose,” you say.

He chuckles. “I agree,” he says with a mischievous smirk.

You feel your face flushing over in an instant the moment you grasp his innuendo but, thankfully, Maverick has already stepped away to get into the adjacent seat. You turn your head to see his arms go up above his head to grasp his own restraints. You take a moment to admire the flexing of his muscles as he brings them down over his shoulders.

Once he’s properly seated, he lowers his head to glance at you under the curve of the restraints obstructing most of his view. You peek back at him and give him an excited smile. You’re hoping that getting giddy about the thrill of the ride might somehow eclipse the nausea your feelings toward Maverick are inciting. Besides, once it’s over, you can reunite with Goose (and give him an inconspicuous kick in the ass).

You feel a tap on your knee and look down to see Maverick’s hand on your lap, palm up. You look over at him again with raised eyebrows. “What’s up?” you say.

“Us, soon,” he says. “Give me your hand.”

“Why? Are you scared?” you ask teasingly.

Maverick chuckles. “A little,” he says.

“You are not!” You laugh.

His smile falters slightly and he furrows his eyebrows. “Not so much about the ride,” he says.

You gulp, staring at him mutely. His green eyes skim over your face as the ride jolts back, pushing both your heads forward until you can no longer see him behind the thick bars of the restraints. You look down at your lap; his hand is still sitting on top of your thigh. You close your eyes as the ride keeps going up slowly, a chorus of screams gradually building around you, and you place your hand in his.

Tag List:

@malindacath

656 notes · View notes

spicyvampire · 1 year

Photo

Congrats on the sex to Agent Sam & Agent Mon, you’ve serve your community well

GAP (2022) EP.8

1K notes · View notes

mqverick · 3 months

Text

buick roadmaster | ₊˚⊹ᰔ

mature themes, +18

rough smut included, consider yourselves warned

“Because I’m going deeper and deeper

Harder and harder”

─── ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ───

“I don’t want to be demanding here, but… could you say maybe ten — twelve words to me before we get to the hotel?” you asked Charlie, half frustrated, half smiling at him, trying not to look too pissed off. It had almost been an hour ever since he’d begun driving, not even bothering to turn the radio on. Just dead silence.

Charlie glanced over at you, then returned his attention to the street, driving quietly with opaque eyes. You sighed, hand coming up to your forehead as you rubbed the skin between your eyebrows in despair, not knowing what to do.

“…Consider it foreplay,” you tried again, this time more playfully, hoping to get him in the feels.

Instead of saying anything, though, he just smirked discreetly, secretly loving being busted by you. “Glad we decided to spend the weekend together, gives you two whole days to bitch at me,” he eventually replied. As a response, you scooted over and knelt his thigh, crossing your arms as you looked forward with narrowed eyes. “What, you’re not talking to me now?”

God, the nerve of that man.

“If you’re so damn worried that you can’t look like you’re not holding back a giant shit, call your dumb service. I took Friday off because I wanted to spend three nice days with my loving boyfriend, who apparently is the biggest, pompous jerk I’ve ever met.”

Charlie chuckled sarcastically, still not giving the slightest care of looking at you, his gaze firmly locked on the road ahead of you. “So that’s what’s on my mind, huh? The service?”

“I sure hope it’s not another woman,” you replied with the same snarky tone, your head now leaned against the widow as you also refused to look at him. You could feel the radiation of his proud, teasing smirk burning you, nevertheless.

“Maybe it’s three other women.”

Oh, he just loved keeping the tension going, didn’t he? Hadn’t you had enough patience and experience of his almost childish behavior after dating (and baring) him for a whole year, you would’ve grabbed the steering wheel from him and crash the car right into the nearest tree. Sometimes, you wondered how you put up with him, with how full of himself he was.

You saw his motor running and huffed. How convenient, you thought, urging him to pick up.

“Maybe they’re calling you right now.” With flared nostrils, you punched up the speed dial on the car phone, hearing the electronic beeps as Charlie continued ignoring you. His nerves were at the surface, fingers gripping unintentionally hard onto the steering wheel as he pushed his sunglasses over the bridge of his nose, scratching the spot there for just a second.

“Babbitt,” he called.

“Two calls from a Mr. Bateman. You want the number?” the voice operator spoke and you the way Charlie closed his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you as you slowly turned your body around so that you could see him better, getting worried.

Quietly into silence, “No.”

“Oh, okay. Then there’s, uh — oh shit. There’s this, um, Mr. Mooney, says he’s your father’s lawyer in Chicago… your father died, sir.”

Charlie clicked off the line, interrupting the call. Driving with one hand, the other one sat on his lap, looking for something to fiddle with, doing eighty. He was shaken, that you could tell, even though he was putting up the biggest effort not to let it show. All the previous anger you felt about him was long gone, taken over by compassion.

“Oh, Charlie. Are you all right?” you asked, your fingertips reaching for the side of his face, but he shook them away, strangely cold and distant. You just stared at him, unable to read him as he pulled off the road, trying to turn. No reply to your question, struggling to keep up the façade.

“Sorry about the weekend, hon,” he mumbled lowly, turning the car around. Was he serious? Did he really think all you cared about was Palm Springs? You opted to maintain your calm.

“The weekend? Charlie…?”

You found it weird, how little emotion he showed. Charlie always tempted to do things like that, completely leave you out of his thoughts, pretend that nothing had ever bothered you. It annoyed you, sure, but mostly, it caused you sadness. You wanted to be there for him, let him know that he could count on you whenever he was feeling bad, if only you knew what was going on in that mind of his. He was really good at hiding his reactions and feelings from everyone as well.

“Didn’t mean to ruin our trip, I’ll make it up to you, though, I promise,” he announced weakly. “Look, we… uh, we hated each other. Mom died when I was two and it’s been me and him ever since.”

You reached for his face again, this time more gently. Charlie accepted your touch, leaning into it for comfort as he closed his eyes just for a short moment. That was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him — that he’d ever let you seen him.

“Did he not treat you well?” you asked, stroking his hair carefully, smoothing it back.

“Beat me up. Emotionally, I mean. Nothing I did was ever good enough… I dealt with it, eventually. Learnt to ignore and let go. Hated him.”

To you, it explained a lot about why Charlie had been behaving like that. It was how he’d grown up, having to shield himself from the others. It hurt you that you couldn’t seem to be helpful for him, hurt you when he abruptly pulled away from your touch away, swallowing back his feelings.

“We’ve been dating for a year. When were you planning to tell me all this? Let me be there for you, Charlie, I’m sick and tired of always having to guess what’s on your head.” But he was back to being silent and acting as if he couldn’t hear you.

Putting up his guard again, not allowing himself to show you how he really felt. You hated him.

“I’m talking to you,” you said in a demanding tone. “Stop fucking playing a game with me. I’m your fucking girlfriend, I should know how to comfort you for Christ’s sake, but you pull away all the damn time! It’s always one step forward and a whole airplane flight back with us. Quit pushing me away every time I try to understand you, it’s exhausting.”

“Not one of these again,” Charlie whispered under his breath as he sighed too loudly for your liking.

“What? Doesn’t it concern you that you had to say ‘again’ in that sentence? You exclude me from everything that’s going on in your life, maybe you’d like to do something about it, just for a change?” you begged sarcastically.

“Fine, you want to talk? Let’s talk. How was your day, honey?” Charlie questioned with indifference, not bothering at the slightest to hide how much he felt like he itched to piss you off.

“I don’t want to talk, I want to—”

“No, you wanted to talk, let’s talk. C’mon, tell me, how have you been doing? Had a nice day? How was it, tell me everything about it, come on.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you mouthed, unbuckling yourself free from your seat. “Stop the car, I want to leave.” But once again, he pretended like he hadn’t heard anything from what you’d said.

“Not going anywhere,” you were simply given.

“No, you know what? One whole year and you haven’t once told me how you feel about me. It’s as though we’ve been stuck on the third date stage, going out for dinner and then fucking. That’s all we do. I’m not asking you to explain everything to me, just let me know that you feel comfortable confiding in me, trusting me. What if I wanted to meet your parents one day? When would you have told me that your mother had died and that you and your father didn’t speak? Relationships are about care for each other.”

“I care about you, you know that.”

You looked over at him with unsure eyes. You’d doubted Charlie’s faith in you before and maybe that was the problem with your relationship. You loved him, loved him dearly — had been in love with him ever since you began dating him. You knew he was capable of showing you a caring side, which was rare, but still very existing.

You believed you loved him enough for the two of you. None, however, had ever expressed that to each other. Spent days, weeks, months, patiently waited for him to make the move, do something romantic or even just spit it out awkwardly while watching a movie or cuddling in bed. But no, Charlie’s head was more stubborn than a donkey and if there was one thing he was good at, it was constantly shielding himself and drawing you away. As if he hated being in a relationship.

“Do I?”

And it killed him. Killed him how incapable he was of reassuring you that for him, it was pretty much over since the day he met you. How he’d bottled up all the things he wanted to say to you, how important you were to him, his only family.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered lowly enough for you to unintentionally miss it.

“If you’re not ready for a relationship, Charlie, I won’t force you to be in one. And for fuck’s sake stop the fucking car already!” But he wasn’t stopping, wasn’t anywhere near stopping; instead only sprinted faster into the empty road. The wind was blowing through his hair, throwing it on top of his forehead as he pushed it aside, annoyed.

You hair was probably a mess too, for all you cared. You were furious with him, with how little he’d let you know him, how you’d almost never been a part of his life. If only you knew.

“You don’t get to go, I need you,” he yelled, voice loud enough for the first time during the car ride for you to actually hear. He was mad too and you didn’t even know why — no, but honestly — he had no right. No right to even have the smallest, tiniest bit of irritation into his body, when he was the only one responsible for all of this.

“You don’t fucking tell me what to do,” you gritted through your teeth, glaring holes into his head. “Now stop the fucking car or I’ll hit the brakes and we’ll both fly the fuck forward into the glass.”

“All right, stop you want?” Charlie asked, abruptly taking a turn that almost sent you out of the window, holding onto your stomach and the seatbelt that you’d unfastened earlier. “Then stop you’ll fucking get.” He was being insane with it, driving ridiculously fast, you were certain he was planning to end your lives once and for all.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you screamed, regretting the moment you’d decided it would be sane and safe to not be wearing a seatbelt while on a car with a man who barely knew how to contain his anger tantrums.

“You wanted to stop, so we’re stopping the car. I’m stopping the fucking car!” he yelled back, slapping the steering wheel so loudly and with so much force that he accidentally winced in pain.

You were holding on for dear life, clutching onto the fabric of the seats and holding your breath down your throat, when he finally stopped with a turn that you were sure was a death sentence.

You didn’t even know where you were, where he’d driven. Your brain was permanently off after that reckless driving of him, making it clearer for you that you needed to leave him or at least threaten him about ending the relationship, giving him a break. There was no way he’d ever be clear enough to think straight, though, especially after your argument, especially after his dad’s death.

Man, he was really getting one slap after another.

“You’re not capable of handling a relationship, then you don’t fucking get to be in one! Go fuck yourself, Charlie!” you shouted at him as your hand went to clasp around the door’s handle, furious at him, but before you could even realize what was happening, Charlie had yanked you back by your shirt, sending you flying into his lap.

You yelped and tried to free yourself from his grasp, but he was holding you so tightly on him that you couldn’t move besides wiggle your legs. He looked both troubled and pissed, unsurprisingly hard to read. His eyes were cold and sharp, sparking as they glowered at you.

He wanted to say something. You could tell by the way his lips subconsciously moved as if he had the words right on the tip of his tongue, but were being choked up by him. He was weak with words, always had been. He thought of them as an action that you couldn’t take back, something like a pearl in your head that you’d be able to roll around as you reminisce. He hated words.

The second time you tried to pull away from him, he kissed you. Attached his lips forcefully into yours, causing you to gasp and completely stop moving. It took you a little to comprehend the situation, but once the warm feeling of his mouth moving against yours kicked in, you reciprocated the kiss with the same urge and compulsion.

“I need you,” he murmured into your ear as he rubbed his nose against the soft flesh of your cheek, wrapping his hands around you so tightly that he wouldn’t have to worry about you trying to make an escape again. With each hand firmly positioned on the sides of his neck, you pulled him down on top of you, laying uncomfortably on top of the seats. You didn’t even care if your back was hurt by hitting the transmission stick a little too hard, or how he’d accidentally pulled a few hairs from a strand that was covering your face.

You lifted your leg up as he crashed his lips into yours again, extending over the top of the console and wrapping it around his waist, arousal already pooling in your underwear. Charlie had his way of kissing you; knew exactly how long it took you to get weak for him, to shut your mind off and beg him for more. He loved using it against you.

Loved how it turned you on the same amount it did for him. His left hand travelled in your hair, pulling it from the ends. His right was around your waist, just under the rim of your shirt, gripping your hip. His tongue peaked out of his mouth, exploring yours before pressing an open-mouthed kiss against your lips, detaching abruptly and creating a thin string of saliva between the two of you. His breath was hard to catch and so was yours, both still incredibly mad at one another. He stared at you blankly for a second, his hard-on growing against his pants as he looked over at your swollen, wet lips.

“You fucking dick,” you snarled under your breath as you angled your knee outward until it was tight on the dashboard. You urgently unbuttoned your jeans, then pulled him back toward you, kissing him passionately as your left hand searched for his, leading it downwards and eventually pressing it firmly onto your mound. Charlie groaned into your mouth, cock twitching painfully against the hard material of his trousers. He let his fingers feel down your body, stroking your clothed leg as his palm curved over your butt and down the back of your thigh. His touch was your cause of death.

“Scoot a little,” he instructed you, struggling to pull down your jeans, accidentally hitting the top of his head against the roof of the car. You tried to suppress the automatic laughter, simply choking out a chuckle, which Charlie hushed away the very moment he ground his covered erection on your pulsing core, soaked through your panties.

Your moan came out ridiculously loud, shadowing the pleased hum that fell from his lips due to the feel of your warmth and wetness, almost convincing himself that he was just a second away from losing it when he hadn’t even gotten to touch you yet. You took the chance to knee him in the crotch, livid at the fact that he was smirking at how ready you were for him, feeling all proud of himself, knowing that he was the only one to ever offer you that feeling — that kind of pleasure.

Charlie looked at you with lustful, blown pupils. You were pretty sure you were as much of a mess as he was, hair combed, clothes half off, red neck and ears, swollen lips and glassy eyes. You grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, the only thing covering your chest know being a black lacy bra. You swore you felt an orgasm creep up inside of you as the pad of his thumb made contact with your clit through the underwear, biting so hard down on your lip in order to not scream his name from the top of your lungs, hips subconsciously thrusting against his hand. You were embarrassed, on one side, but on the other, you couldn’t care less.

After all that was done, you were out.

Out of the car and out of his life, you’d decided.

“Fucking touch me already,” you demanded, but he responded negatively to your tone, pinning you down on the seat so tightly that it caused you to let out a tiny wince. With one hand, Charlie held your wrists down and over your head, while the other finally shoved your underwear out of the way. For a contemplative minute, he almost forgot that he was supposed to be mad at you.

How much he loved having you like this.

But he wasn’t going to say anything just yet. Maybe another time, in another case, where he wouldn’t utter it out during sex talk, where he was stronger than that, put his pride last instead of first. He didn’t want to break up with you, ever. To him, you were the one. It was hard to express, complex to explain — bless his heavy heart strings that only allowed him to pick all the wrong talks, places and times.

“Y’feel so good,” he murmured into your ear as he entered a finger into you, carefully enough not to hurt you with the rings he had on. “You fucking kill me whenever I see you. You’re too much, I can’t handle you, I just can’t.” The word came out of his mouth like honey and you had to dig your nails into his back, over his shirt, to stop yourself from cumming undone right then and there.

His finger curled inside your walls, following all the small bends and curves of the part of your body that needed him the most, sluggishly applying pressure and picking up place.

Your juices are dripping down your thighs, thing that helped him to easily add another finger in you. The mixture of his low groans, your choked moans and the slapping sounds of his hand rawing you was probably the biggest turn-on you’d ever experienced. All that in the middle of an empty street, in public view. All one had to do was peak over the windows of his car.

“Keep doing that, I’m so fucking close,” you purred into Charlie’s lips as you kissed him, giving permission to your hands to travel around the waistband of his trousers and undo the zipper.

“Yeah?”

“I want to fuck you.”

“Maybe another night,” Charlie replied with sureness as he suddenly dragged his fingers out of you and rubbing them against the skin of his bottom lip. You both wanted to punch the life out of him and not say anything at all, just enjoy the view of him licking your precum off his hand.

The image was so insanely sexy that you could orgasm just by looking at him and nothing else.

Charlie finally threw his black shirt off somewhere into the backseats, his trousers coming up next as he stood on top of you with just his boxers, which were pretty much a whole other level of mess; leaking with his own precum. He’d never looked so pretty before, so blown away.

It was visible to anyone with a single brain cell that he wanted to fuck you in a way of letting you know that you had no place to leave him, that he needed you more than anyone and more than ever. You opted not to comment on it, instead, leaving him be. Charlie loved angry sex, anyway.

Seemed that you were right after all — the twelve words he’d spoken had been the best foreplay.

“Charlie, I need you,” you pleaded beautifully, so desperately that he discarded his gray boxers immediately, taking his throbbing cock into his hand as he grazed the tip over your entrance, torturing you just a little. You cried out, wanting more, tired of his games. His heart pounded, close to beating right out of his rib cage.

Fuck it, he decided, as both of his hands grabbed your left hand and placed your open palm on his chest, right over his heart, and let it linger there. For the first time that night, you could finally understand what was going on behind his eyes. You smiled as he let go of your hands, running his fingers through your hair and gently guiding your face closer to his, eventually leaning himself in to rest his forehead on yours.

When he thrusted for the first time, you were already chasing after your high (and you were pretty sure the same thing could be applied to him as well.) The grunt he breathed was insane, sending you to heaven and back as you moaned along, realising that you didn’t want to repress yourself any longer. If he were to get cocky and insufferable, then so be it. You’d been used to it.

Your fingers flew into his hair, pulling at it and encouraging him to go deeper and harder. Charlie happily obliged, getting the message instantly as he whispered your name through every groan, beads of tension gripping one body on top of the other. Both his mind and vision were blurry as his thrusts frantically took off to a steady pace, fucking you so deeply, so roughly that he was sure it was hurting you. Why weren’t you stopping him? Why weren’t you telling him to slow down?

“Harder,” you hoarsed, and it nearly rocked his world. Charlie was quick to accomplish your request, filling you up with his dick so nicely as he fucked you through the pleasant moist of your combined bodily juices. He couldn’t comprehend how you weren’t scared of him damaging your body; instead taking lazy glances at you just to figure out that you were loving it, embracing him just right as you clenched so tightly against his dick, squeezing him gut-wrenchingly hard.

“Fuck — ‘m not going to last any longer,” he confessed while pressing his eyes shut, pursing his lips and trying not to fall apart on you yet.

“Just a little bit, Charlie,” you croaked, digging wounds into the muscles of his back with your nails, letting the roughness of his grinds and thrusts vibrate through your entire system, get you pathetically weak under his weight.

“‘M going to cum.” And with that, he gripped onto the sides of your outer thighs as he held still while still deep inside you, releasing hot jets of cum into you as you clamped down on his cock, following with your own earth shattering orgasm. You felt so full, so vulnerable and so fulfilled, all at the same time and it was overpowering. With an exhausted, loud groan, Charlie collapsed on top of you, squishing you as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, placing small pecks down on the curve of your shoulder as he tried to catch both his breath and untamable heartbeat.

“Charlie, I…”

“I just want to hear that it’s not over,” he interrupted you, still a bit breathless as you gave him a puzzled look. “I mean… I’m scared it’s over. Everything you said was right about me. I can’t offer you much, I’m terrible with relationships and I’m very fucking terrified of trusting someone. I’m not really good at showing my feelings.”

“There are many things you’re not good at.”

“I know. I know and I’m scared of getting my heart broken, because I genuinely believe I won’t be able to last one second without you. I’m in love with you,” Charlie finally confessed, trembling as he looked you dead in the eyes, hoping to catch the tiniest hint of response from them.

Your jaw hung slightly agape at his words, never in a million years expecting to hear him drop those words out of his mouth. You were on the verge of tearing up, grabbing him by the sides of his face as you pulled him down to kiss him sweetly on the lips, lingering there longer than needed. Charlie sighed in relief, chuckling with pure joy as he heard the following sentence reassuringly fall from your lips; “I love you too.”

FIN.

again, this is for my favourite person on earth @honeymvnt i hope you’ll like this ml 🫶🏼🎀

#charlie babbitt oneshot #charlie babbitt x reader #rain man x reader #rain man #tom cruise oneshot #tom cruise #so much smut #kinda depressing #there’s fluff too #pete maverick mitchell #maverick fanfic #maverick fluff #maverick x reader #maverick x you #pete mitchell #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise imagine #it’s midnight

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ilikereadings · 8 months

Text

A day on the water

Summary: Penny and Maverick invite you and Bradley for a day out on their boat

Warnings: just pure sweetness and fluff, nothing dirty, water/big bodies of water, use of Y/N

Words: 1.3k

Note: this is my first time writing anything, if there is anything I can improve please let me know! Hope you enjoy :)

❗️I wrote this all myself please don’t repost❗️

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Work for Bradley had been more on the heavy side this week, so when Penny and Maverick had invited you and Rooster on a day out on the water on Penny’s sail boat, he was quick to accept the invitation. When Bradley had told you about your plans for Sunday with Penny and Mav, you were more than thrilled.

Saturday night you and Bradley had a night in, watching your favourite movies and just embracing each other to decompress after a long week of work. Then Sunday rolled around and you were so excited to get to spend a day on the water with Maverick, Penny, and especially, Bradley. Although you and Bradley were in no rush, you packed everything up for the day an hour and a half before you left.

Around 12:30 you and Bradley got to the dock where Penny and Mav were. You were wearing your bathing suit and one of Bradley’s shirts, which was so big on you it went down half your thighs. Rooster was wearing his swim trunks which were pineapple print, and one of his dads old Hawaiian button up shirts. When you got on the boat, Penny greeted you with a hug while Maverick gave you a warm hearted smile.

You talk to Penny as Bradley heads over to Mav to talk to him. “Oh my gosh Penny, you look great! Thank you for inviting us!” You start the conversation. “It’s no problem really, Pete was telling me that Bradley was having a tough week at work and we haven’t seen you in a while, so I thought we should make it a double date!”

After a little chit chat, the boys untie the boat from the dock, and you all take off. Penny had put on a mixed playlist and ‘Dreams’ by Fleetwood Mac started playing. You smiled contently as you made your way to sit down on one of the benches. When you were seated, you took your shirt off and grabbed the sunscreen from your bag. As you started to apply the sunscreen Bradley had started making his was to you. You had decided to wear a simple but cute blue bathing suit, showing a little cleavage, but not too much because you wanted to be more modest than some of the other bathing suits only Bradley gets to see. You look up at him with a sweet smile and he leans down to you to whisper “You look good y’know?” His face changing to a more lustful look. You smile even bigger and hit him playfully on the arm and quietly scold him. “Bradley Bradshaw! We are here to spend time with our friends, get your mind out of the gutter!” Bradley starts laughing which makes you start laughing as well. Both of you calm down, and Bradley offers to put sunscreen on your back.

The four of you collectively agree to stop for a bit in the middle of the water to relax for a while. “Y/N, wanna come help me get lunch ready?” Penny asks, once the boat is anchored down. “Of course! Be right there!” You reply. Turning and kissing Bradley on the cheek before getting up to help. You only take a few steps away before Bradley shouts out “Lookin’ good honey!” You turned and gawked at him, your face flushed, Bradley and Maverick trying to hold in their laughs at your expression. You continue on to help Penny get the food out of the containers and onto some paper plates to eat.

After you all had ate, everyone was just relaxing, listening to music, watching the ocean, and talking a bit more. That’s when ‘Great Balls of Fire’ by Jerry Lee Lewis came on and you just had to get up and dance with Bradley. So, you stood up and grabbed him by the hands pulling him off the bench and into an open space of the boat. You of course knew the meaning of this song to him and Mav, but you also loved this song and wanted to dance. As you and Bradley danced to the song, the four of you sang along and laughed throughout. During the verse,

“Kiss me baby.. Mmmm feels good”

Both Pete and Bradley kissed their girls tenderly on the cheek. As the song ended, Bradley wrapped you up in his arms and spun you around with a smile big enough it was making the corners of his eyes crinkle. When he set you down, you wrapped you hand around his waist, lean up on your tip toes and connect your lips to Bradley with pure love. You took it all in as he sweetly kissed you back, but then you feels his hands creep up you sides.. and he starts tickling you. You burst out laughing and pull away from him, trying to pry his hands off of you. While Bradley continues to tickle you, he lifts you up and walks to the edge of the boat. You quickly catch on to what he’s doing and start playfully hitting him saying things such as “Don’t you dare Bradshaw!” And “I’ll get you back you Rooster!” And finally.. Bradley drops you off the side of the boat, but before you fell too far you grabbed him and pulled him in with you. You both fell into the water giggling and soaked. While Bradley swam over to you, Penney and Mav came to the edge of the boat to make sure you were okay. The only confirmation they needed was hearing your love filled laughs. When Bradley swam over to you he pulled you in, kissing the top of your head and giving Mav a thumbs up. You turned to Rooster and tried to look mad at him, but the more you looked into those brown puppy dog like eyes, your face lightened and you pulled him in for another sweet kiss on the lips. Tasting the salt water on his lips, you moved yours hands to the bottom of his hair on his neck. Then you heard someone say from the boat “Get a room will y’a?!”, you and Bradley separate and looks up to see Penny hitting Pete on the arm while Maverick was chuckling to himself. Just to show Mav, you quickly threw yourself onto Bradley, jokingly sloppily kissing his face and shoving the both of you underwater. When you came back up you swam to the ladder and got back on the boat while teasing Maverick by saying “That good enough for you?” Maverick just shakes his head and laughs at the two of you looking like wet dogs. Bradley notices how you start to shiver a little, he slowly slides his arm around your shoulders and guides you to the bench you were on before and sits you there. He goes into the bag you had packed nice and early this morning and got the towels out. He wrapped your towel around your shoulders and his around his hips. Bradley sits down next to you and once again puts his arm around you and starts rubbing your arm and bringing you in closer to him to try and warm you up. A little smile creeps up onto your face as you snuggle into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. You look over to Maverick who also has his arm draped over Penny’s shoulder, he smiles widely at you. “You don’t know how happy it makes me seeing you two together. You remind me so much of Carole and Goose. The way Rooster cares for you, Y/N and how you guys goof around together. It makes me miss your parents Rooster, but it makes me feel like they’re still here, their spirits in you two.” Maverick admits. You couldn’t help the happy tear that fell down your cheek onto Bradley’s shoulder. Bradley looked at you, then kissed your forehead. “I love you so much Y/N/N” Bradley says to you. “I love you too Bradley” you say back with the sweetest smile and a peaceful look in your eyes.

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Thank you for reading!! If you have any suggestions for change or improvements let me know! I hope you enjoyed!

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #tom cruise #top gun fanfiction #top gun #top gun maverick #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #rooster imagine #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #fluff

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