mverickss

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I am happy because everyone loves me

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So, this is what you’ve been up to?

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"gta vi isn't real she can't hurt you" gta vi:

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Can you do a pete mitchell fic based on you are in love by Taylor Swift

you are in love - pete mitchell.

Pete Mitchell was known for his absolute confidence in the sky. His smart mouth and snarky remarks that made his higher ups groan when they heard another report of Maverick causing conflict. This left him in an unstable position. With his understanding of himself, his friends, his coworkers, and his entire life. Whenever he did something wrong, he was stationed in another place in hopes he would change.

He met you when he was in his lower high. Pete wasn’t in his uniform. In a baggy white tee and a pair of jeans. Simple, but it was permanently engraved in your mind. He stood in the corner, talking to one of his old friends and gave you a smile from across the room. One meant just for you. It was at that point whenever the sparks were lit, and the love had exploded.

Here you are now, sitting on his couch after a burnt toast fiasco, drinking his coffee in his white tee. You felt undeniably safe, as if your fears had disappeared as he stared at you. Pete was someone that wasn't simple to understand; you enjoyed the idea of learning all about someone however. Pete paused drinking, set his coffee down, and pressed a kiss to the corner of your forehead and whispered. “Don’t tell Goose, but you’re my best friend.”

At that point you knew, he was in love.

You understand why people were so unable to explain their love. The idea of loving someone so much that it feels impossible seemed crazy to you. On the other hand, the idea of not loving Pete as much as you did seemed crazier. It was love, true love.

[mverickss]

Maverick Mitchell angst fic where breakdowns in front of the reader after Goose's death

And Feel You Forget Me Like I Used To Feel You Breathe

pairing [s] : pete mitchell x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : death, crying, regret, blame |

a/n [s] : ty for the request! [requests are open]

After Goose’s death, Pete became distant and gone. Drinking away his feelings and long motorcycle rides to flee away from his problems, and people that brought up his problems. He only called Carole five times since that day; deciding that in her head, he was the worst person to ever touch the ground of the Earth.

One day he comes home smelling like cheap booze. He shrugs his bomber jacket off of him and sets it on the hooks that are on the wall. You're sleeping on the small couch with a thin blanket over you. The television is on and it's playing some dumb movie from the 70s. You pop up whenever Pete accidentally drops one of his boots too quickly on the floor.

“Pete! Oh, I was worried sick. Where have you been? Oh you smell like alcohol.” You stand up and walk over to Pete and smooth out his t-shirt. He doesn't hold eye contact with you. He looks at the ground like a kid who just got in time out.

“I was nowhere. Get off me.” The anger spits from his mouth and he pushes against you. You immediately turn to look at his back side. “What? I’m an adult. I can do whatever I goddamn please!” You can't even tell why he's so angry. You haven't crowded him or anything, he's just getting angry at his own head. You attempt to walk closer to him and he's huffing and puffing while throwing together a sandwich on the island counter.

You're dressed in his t-shirt and a pair of underwear. Usually, he would get real close to hug you whenever he gets home. Now, he's cold to you and only speaks to you whenever he's forced too. “Pete what is happening to you? Honey, you have to talk.” Your hand goes to his forearm and sits there comfortingly.

“I don't wanna talk. That's all everyone tells me. ‘You have to talk Pete!’ What if I don't want too? Has anyone ever thought of that?!” His voice echoes through the house and you see his lip quivers whenever he finishes. His eyes start to tear and you see his face start to flush. He covers his face with his hand and shakes it.

All you do is stare at him and choose to not speak. He's vulnerable right now and you worry you might hurt him. Quiet sobs start and he moves his body to lay in your arms. You attempt to drag him away from the kitchen to the living room, to let him sit down against the couch.

He sits down on the creme-colored couch and he sets his elbows on his knees. Your hand goes to his back and he almost begins to shake. You've only seen Pete like this a few times, vulnerable and scared. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I'm sorry. I’m Sor—” Pete says quickly before you stop him.

“Pete no, you don't have to apologize for anything. You're grieving. This is normal.”

Pete looks at you with blood-shot eyes, cheeks a burning red, and puffy eyes. The feelings he's been having finally started to cut through his strong walls he had put up. He wipes away the tears that fall from his eyes. “It's so hard. To go to work and know everyone looks at me. And it's my fault that Bradley doesn't have a Dad, Carole doesn't have a husband, and I lost my best friend.”

You sit there and let him talk. Pete curls in on himself to hide himself. “It wasn't your fault. I understand it's hard to not think that. The situation was the plane, not the pilot. Those are your words, not mine. Carole doesn't blame you, honey. You shouldn't blame yourself. Bradley has so much love.” Pete continues to sniffle as he attempts to breathe and relax from his crying fit.

“I know. And, I'm sorry for just not talking to you. I couldn't look you in the face knowing what I did.” Pete admits and you smile at him. He gently scoots over to you and lays against your shoulder. You kiss the temple of his head and put your hand on the side of his head. With a gentle pull, you lay against the arm of the couch and open your legs. Pete slides in-between them and lays his head on your chest.

“It’s alright. You're fine, I'm fine, we'll be alright.” You end the conversation with a hum and gentle rub of his back. Pete was still mourning; and with an understanding of his feelings you would be able to help. Either way, you knew it would eventually be fine.

[mverickss]

on your side

Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x reader

summary: you made a vow when you married pete, that you would stand by him through everything, but now you're not sure he would do the same for you, watching as he flies a deadly mission and takes a hit meant for someone else || warnings: grief, mentions of death, kinda shitty relationships || word count: 1853 || masterlist

Maverick didn’t fly unless his wife was manning the communications tower, everyone at any base he was stationed at knew that. It was a partnership stronger than most camaraderie and friendship within squadrons, the connection of making sure the other got home that night to their shared bed.

Many admirals had tried to forbid the partnership, citing the deeper connection the pair shared but when they got to see the quiet professionalism that the two worked with, they couldn’t deny their requests.

Within Top Gun, there were whispers of how they originally met, an irate air controller waiting on the tarmac for Maverick to get out of his plane, arms crossed and a furious glare aimed towards him. The whispers say that Maverick was besotted when the first insult and beration fell from her lips.

He stared at her for the longest time, letting her tell her frustration to it’s finish without interruption or response. There was a creeping smile on his face, eyes crinkling and bright beneath his aviators. For Mav, it was love at first sight. For you, it would take an unfathomable amount of convincing.

But slowly, Mav was winning you over with witty radio comments and flirtations through corridor passings. Nothing came of it, you were very uptight about keeping your work as professional as you could and Pete Mitchell was the opposite of professional.

Then there was the accident.

And you had to hear Pete’s heartbreaking radio messages about his failing plane and the incident that occurred. You were sat frozen to your seat, headset glued on as you listened again and again to the chatter of rescue helicopters and medics as they brought the pilots back, with only one alive.

It was the moment that Pete touched down on the tarmac and practically fell into your waiting arms that everything seemed to change. Since that day, the pair were never seen apart beyond one being in the sky. You remained by his side, ever devoted, as Pete was cleared of wrongdoing from Goose’s death and found his love of flying again.

You didn’t know Goose very well, only remembering him as the very kind and apologetic RIO of the pilot who drove you up the walls more often than not. His death truly was a loss for the navy and for anyone who had the pleasure of knowing him.

There was a whispered promise one night when you were wrapped in each other’s arms, tightly clinging, afraid of letting go. A question of what the future would hold for both of you. You whisper a promise back, though thick and thin, every choice, every hardship and every smile, you would be there.

Decades fly past, and you do exactly as you promised. Through all his deployments, you’re in his tower, on the other side of his radio ready to do everything you can to bring your husband home safely. Then there’s the rumours of his latest Mach 10 project being shut down and you’re standing beside Hondo as Pete isn’t forcibly retired from the Navy, but instead welcomed back to Top Gun.

“Can you believe it?” He’s asked you that night as you packed up your lives.

Inside your mind, there was a war. If they were bringing Pete back, it was a hard mission, almost impossible. But he got to keep doing what he loved for a little bit longer, so you were thankful for that thought. “You’re not worried?”

Pete shook his head, almost laughing. “Why would I be?”

You didn’t push the subject, zipping shut the last bag. “Have you thanked Ice?” Iceman, Tom, Pete’s best man at your wedding, the man who had kept Pete’s naval career alive for this long by pushing back against every opposing voice.

“I’ll go see him when we’re in Miramar.”

The weeks fly by in a daze, the fact that Pete is training Goose’s son, Ice’s death, the slow and steady realisation that some of the pilots will not come back from this mission. It beats like a heartbeat in the back of your mind, constantly taunting you with the fact. But what’s worse is watching Mav fly through the air better than everyone else and knowing the Navy will have no choice but to let him fly. There’s a final nail in the coffin when he sets off unauthorised and your voice rings out to him over the radio.

“Maverick to range control. Entering point Alpha, confirm green range.”

“Maverick this is range control. Green range is confirmed but you’re not meant to be there.”

“I’m going anyway darling. Setting time to target 2 minutes and 15 seconds.” It was a pure balls move, to prove what the admirals had said was truly impossible, what the admirals were giving the others four minutes and a following dogfight to do. “File attack point, Maverick’s inbound.”

Your sigh is audible over the airwaves. “Flight plan is go. Go get ‘em Maverick.”

The day the newly named dagger squad stands on the deck of the carrier ready to take off, you’re standing with your forehead pressed against Pete’s. You are almost being forced to watch his impending possible death from the centre stage of command because of his dedication to flying with you always. Your heart patters nervously in your chest, a heaviness settling upon you like a dark cloud as you hold steady for just a moment more, hoping for eternity.

“Come back to me. Keep Rooster safe if you can, keep them all safe.” It’s a silent prayer repeated over and over by many of the crew aboard the mission and connected to it.

“Wait for me and I’ll be here.” He mutters back, hearing the sky calling him and being all too ready to answer.

The air is tense as you take your seat and slide the familiar headset over your ears, tuning out the outside world and into the screens and scrolling data in front of you. The mission drags as every breath runs a knife into your lungs. Time is slower, watching the dots of planes travel across the radar towards the target. Then, it’s like everything is happening at once. They fly through the canyon towards the target, succeeding in their attempt and then emerging into what can only be described as hell.

The chatter over the radio gets more and more chaotic as they’re fighting against the missiles sent their way. “Mav! No!”

“Dagger One is hit. I repeat Dagger One is hit. Maverick is down.” Phoenix’s voice rings out through the radio, almost echoing through the control room.

With the simple declaration, you know the screens and data isn’t wrong, that Maverick’s plane isn’t fine. He’s gone down, he’s gone. And in that split sconce, your world shatters, the one constant you have had for countless years has just vanished from your life forever.

“Dagger one status!” Rooster’s voice somehow makes the aching wound split wide open, knowing what regrets the pilot would now have for ever word the pair had exchanged. “Does anyone see him?”

It can only get worse as the enemy deploys aircraft of their own. “Mitchell…” The shared surname seems to echo through the control room, slipping from an Admiral’s mouth as they comprehend the situation. “You’re excused from your position.” He turns to another air control officer. “Get them back to the carrier.”

You practically run from the control room, ripping your headset off and letting your chair rock unsteadily. No one tries to stop you, they know. It’s better to let you go, to let you run and probably never come back to this place, to this time, the moment when your husband died.

The corridors on the ship are a maze that you weave through to find a space where no one will find you. There’s an empty office with the lights off and an empty desk, an office no one will be poking their head into and asking why you were there. You sink to your knees, crawling under the desk just to feel enclosed as the emotions bubble up through your throats and sobs emerge from your mouth.

You’re mourning the man you loved and the future you could have had once this mission was finally over. There’s no future you would share now. The hours pass in a blurry daze, time being irrelevant to you now.

The door slams open, an out of breath Hondo looking relieved at finding you. He calls your name but it’s like you’re underwater, like you can’t even hear him. There’s a ringing that you just need to say something, anything, to get rid of it, to shake your head of the pain and pity you’ll receive the moment you stand.

“My parents told me I was crazy for marrying a Navy man, nevertheless a pilot.” You say, tears streaming down your face as you turn to look up at Hondo. Your voice breaks from all the crying, throat sore. “I told them that’s what love was. And now that love is gone? It’s all gone.”

He says your name once more and this time it breaks through the haze. His face comes into focus and you can’t help but notice the repressed joy that is smattered across. He’s happy, in a time like this, when your husband has been shot down and Rooster disobeyed direct orders to go after him, risking his own life.

“They’re alive.”

It’s two words. Two words that relight the spark that burns with a passion within your soul, two words that give you hope. They’re alive, both of them, both of them are alive. And if Hondo knows they’re alive, it means they’re on their way home, they’re coming home.

Hondo reaches out a hand to pull you to your feet and you gladly accept the support. Your legs still feel shaky as you wipe away your tears. “They’re both alive?”

“They just landed.”

You tear down towards the deck, pushing through the throngs of crowds and personnel all heading the same direction. Those that recognise you step aside to let you pass. When the sun catches your skin and you emerge onto the deck, your eyes scan the crowds searching for the man, ten minutes ago, you thought was dead.

Finally, you lock eyes with Pete, the crowd parting as you rush towards each other, crashing together in fiery embrace. His arms wrap around you with desperate strength, as though afraid you might never feel this again. You feel the tremble in his chest, half laughter, half sobs, as he buries his face in your shoulder.

“I thought I'd lost you,” you whisper, voice breaking.

“I never stopped trying to get back to you,” he breathes, pulling back just enough to search your face, eyes wide with disbelief. “You waited and I promised I’d come back.”

The world fades, the noise, the chaos, the stares of strangers, until it's just the two of you, standing in the wreckage of everything that tried to keep you apart. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you're whole again.

[mverickss]

pitfighter vander ♡︎

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Don't mind me spamming my acc with them the time being

(creds in the vid)

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punk rock jinx !!

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I'm srry but I'm just too excited to just not show you like the beginning of chapt. one like

I have a lil time to write a bit sooooo👀

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that valentines skin huh.....

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a lil snippet of chapter one of the caitvi fic that I'll be working on for the next few weeks...

(wattpad: @/mverickss)

"Easy with the ledge." Vi instructed, she still didn't know why would Caitlyn ever wanted to climb. She hated it. She remembers the first time she brought it up, thinking they'd both go on a little "adventure" but immediately turned down, and Vi respected her. But with everything so foreign to her now after the accident, maybe change is a good thing.

That's what Vander will say.

Caitlyn yelps a little. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea." She tries making a lighthearted moment giving the fact that she's dangling from the ledge holding onto Vi's arm for dear life. Vi chuckles, she pulls Caitlyn up and steady the girl. Caitlyn was shaking like a leaf not from the wind but from fear. "I did it. We did it." "Did you seriously drag me out here so you can get over your fear?" She jokes, Caitlyn doesn't have a fear of heights. She chuckles.

"I'm proud of you, you know." Her voice turned soft and gentle, it gives Vi memories of before. "Of what?" A dumb question to ask.

Caitlyn snickers, "You know what I mean." Vi smiles, chuckling a bit.

It was a moment of silence only a mere second, only staring into ones eyes. Vi softly smiles at Caitlyn and it felt like the first time. "Thank you."

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also feeling sick had a part to play in aswell

had a mental crashout and just deleted almost every damn posts I had... don't mind me this happens:) I'm srry

[mverickss]

had a mental crashout and just deleted almost every damn posts I had... don't mind me this happens:) I'm srry

[mverickss]

Everyone SHUT UP‼the pookies are taking naps