tomcruiseishot

[tomcruiseishot]

Changing the Pattern

tc!jack reacher x reader

summary: after you get hurt in the field, Jack tries to help. You’re annoyed by his efforts as it happens every time you help Jack, but he admits something to you this time that changes your relationship with him.

warnings: injury, guns, angst, then happy fluff

wc: 839

a/n: based on this request by @tomcruiseishot ! Yes it’s not very in character for Jack but I don’t care 😂

“Y/n!” Jack shouts.

You turn around and see a man coming towards you with a gun.

You pull your weapon, but are too slow. Two shots go off.

A bullet grazes your shoulder, and the man falls to the ground. You stumble backwards into the wall.

“Jack,” you cry out as you slide down the wall to the ground.

“Y/n,” Jack says, rushing to you. “I’m so sorry,” he says, ripping his shirt to make a bandage.

“Jack,” you repeat, with tears in your eyes.

“Look at me, y/n, stay with me. It’s okay. I know it hurts,” he says as he wraps the bandage around you.

You watch Jack as he finishes wrapping the bandage.

“Come on,” he says, helping you up. “Can you walk?”

“I think so,” you say.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He helps you to the car, then speeds off to a safe house.

“I’m so sorry,” Jack mutter as you enter through the door.

“Jack, enough,” you snip.

Your pain and fear has turned to anger.

“Let me just help you,” Jack says, moving to look at your wound.

“You’ve done enough,” you tell him. “I’ll handle this myself.”

You walk away towards your room.

“Y/n,” Jack calls out after you.

You ignore him and close your door. Your hand hesitates at the lock, unsure if you should lock yourself in or if Jack will leave you alone.

You lock the door, deciding you really don’t want to talk to him.

This happens every time Jack asks for your help. You always get hurt, Jack feels awful, and you swear him off until the next time he calls.

You unwrap the bandage, wincing with pain.

At least it’s just a graze and a bullet didn’t land in your shoulder.

You take the first aid kit out of the closet, setting up a workspace. You clean your wound, and start grabbing gauze and adhesive to rebandage it.

There’s a light knock on your door.

“Y/n,” Jack says softly. “I know you’re mad at me. You have every right to be. This happens every single time. I get it. You’re… you’re the best partner I’ve ever had in the field and I don’t want anyone else. I want you with me. I’m sorry.”

Tears swell in your eyes, threatening to fall. When you close your eyes to gain composure, a tear does fall down your face.

You stand up from the desk and open the door.

Jack is standing there, with concern all over his face.

“Y/n,” he breathes.

You step closer and wrap him into a hug, tears falling down your face and creating a wet spot on Jack’s shirt.

“I’m here. I got you,” Jack whispers, petting your hair and nuzzling into your neck.

The two of you stand there for a minute, not saying anything.

“How about I take a look at your shoulder?” Jack suggests, slightly pulling away from the hug.

You nod, walking back into the room to the desk.

You sit down on the chair, and Jack squats down to look at your arm.

“It doesn’t look that bad,” he reassures you. “Still probably hurts like hell, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, it does.”

Jack bandages your shoulder.

“You’ll be okay,” Jack says.

You nod again. “I know.”

Jack looks up at you, and you notice for the first time the cuts on his face, likely from the incident earlier today.

“Let me clean these,” you say, gently touching his face as you examine the cuts.

“I’m fine,” Jack tells you.

You give Jack a look.

“Fine,” Jack sighs.

You gently clean Jack’s cuts, and he winces.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Don’t be,” he whispers.

Silence falls between the two of you. You stand up and Jack does the same, holding onto your arms.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

Jack wraps you in his arms. “I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you, y/n. I love you so much.”

“Jack.”

“I’ll continue to repeat it, y/n. You mean everything to me.”

“Jack… I… I love you too.”

Jack pulls back ever so slightly so he can look at you.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

“Good,” he smiles, kissing you.

The kiss doesn’t feel strange or unusual. It feels natural. It feels like you’ve already kissed Jack a million times.

“Stay with me tonight?” you ask Jack quietly.

“Hm?”

“Sleep with me tonight. Don’t go to your room.”

“Okay,” Jack whispers, kissing your head.

You change into your pj’s and crawl into bed.

“Isn’t that my shirt?” Jack asks with a small smile as he takes his own shirt off.

“Maybe,” you tease him. “Smells like you.”

Jack smiles as he steps out of his jeans, leaving him in just his boxers.

He joins you in bed under the covers.

You move closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you too, y/n. Get some rest, okay?”

You nod against his body.

“Good. I’ll keep you safe.”

[tomcruiseishot]

There Are Limits

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

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

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

WC: 4000+

This is Part 5 in the There Are Rules universe.

“Captain?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile back at him. “I agree.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

You scoff resentfully. “Don’t be.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t,” you say.

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

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

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

“What’s Charlie going to think?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

“Captain?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sam,” he says. “He’s not the one.”

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

You groan. “Not again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You exhale sharply. “Finish, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maverick stills immediately, watching you uneasily.

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

“I’m not –”

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

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

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

“You were distracted –”

“You’re making excuses for me! Why?”

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

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

Maverick narrows his eyes. “What about Charlie?”

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

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

“Stop coddling me,” you say firmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag List:

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

@wandering-wah

@callsign-sunshine

@ghost-heart34

@birdy-bat-writes

@matya4

@wkndwlff

@nyx2021

@bellamy1998

@oliviah-25

@alexxavicry

@army24--7

@thefandomimagines

@dracosluvbot

@smit41

@scenesofobx

@Criminalmindsandmarvel

@lunamoonbby

@malums-trash-can

@malindacath

@karleetakeenan

@callsign-echo

@toothemoonanddback

@broketraveler87

@atarmychick007

@shanimallina87

@creativitybeware

@xoxabs88xox

@Yoyop7

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

@rrocky0ah

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@lilianashomaresparza

@latetedslesetoiles

@Elenavampire21

@starberryhorse

@ginger-gabsq

@sarcastic-sourwolf

@risingtripletaurus

@callsignmaverick5

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@hermaeusmorax

@littlebadariell

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

@iamabeautifulperson18

@living-in-my-imagination88

@wintercap89

@mavrellover91

@gingerbreadandpaper

[tomcruiseishot]

watching movies from the 80s/90s starring tom cruise isn‘t enough anymore I need a time machine to make out with him

[tomcruiseishot]

The team was waiting for you to arrive before taking off. Ethan chooses the team for this mission Luther, Ilsa, Benji and you.

“They should’ve been here by now.” Benji commented.

“Have some patient Benji they’re gonna be here.” Ethan told him.

They heard the motorbike before they saw you, making your way to the private jet.

“Luther tell the pilot to get ready for takeoff.” Ethan smiled when he saw the sign of you.

You stopped the bike and took of the hamlet and showed a big smile. Hopping off the bike Ethan was smiling at you and spread his arms for a hug.

“It’s about time.” Benji said.

You jumped into Ethan’s arms “Oh shut it Dunn.” You hugged him so tight “How I missed you.” You whispered into the hug.

Ethan chuckled “I missed you too bug.”

“You know you could hug on the plane, right?” Benji told you two.

Parting away from Ethan’s hug you glared at Benji “What got your panties in a twist dude?” making your way to the stairs to get into the plane.

“Ha ha ha don’t call me dude.” He pointed at you.

Luther saw you enter the plane and stood up from his chair “Well if it wasn’t my favorite person.”

“Luther my baby” You opened your arms to hug him “How are you?”

“I’m doing great now that you’re here.” He hugged you and kissed your head.

 You saw Ilsa smiling at the both of you “And there she is the love of my life, my wife.” You said to her before hugging her and taking your seat next to Luther.

“How come I didn’t get a hug?” You heard Benji

You raised your eyebrow at him “Well you were being an ass so no hugs for you.”

“No, I wasn’t” he argued.

“Yes, you were.” You argued back.

“No, I wasn’t.”

And you two just kept going back and forth with this.

“It’s gonna be a long mission with these two.” Luther told Ilsa and Ethan and they just laughed.

a/n: This is for @tomcruiseishot I'm still working on the Jack Reacher so I will post it when I'm done.

*gif not mine*

[tomcruiseishot]

Tom Cruise characters in cuffs, a saga

@thethistlegirl @malewifebillcage

[tomcruiseishot]

Ethan, after Benji has once again volunteered him for an insane death-defying stunt:

[tomcruiseishot]

I love this!!

Hi! Can you write a request for dead reckoning Ethan Hunt? Maybe something where the team, Ethan and the reader are on the mission looking for the key (reader and Ethan are a couple). The mission turns out well. Ethan gets the two parts of the key, but just when he is about to go back to the rest of the team, Benji tells him that the ‘bad guys’ took the reader and Ethan feel his whole world falling and he is willing to risk the whole mission to save the reader.

After fighting a lot of men, he finally finds the reader in the hands of Gabriel and Ethan fights Gabriel with all the hate in his heart for hurting the one he loves.

Then Ethan goes to the reader and he is just really sweet and tender comforting her and asking if she’s okay and he is just happy that she’s alright.

I really hope you can understand, I’m not the best with words😩

It’s totally fine if you don’t want to! Thanx!

Reckoning | Ethan Hunt x Reader

word count: 1972

warning: fluff, good backstory, action, kiddnapping and blood

a/n: hey hey!! yesss!! thank you so much for requesting something!! i loved the movie and i thought about like a love interest other than Ilsa (i do love her character) in the movie!! hope you enjoy!

(for the gif, your ilsa!)

“So, you need my help?” you asked Benji, Luthor and Ilsa who were all three sitting across from you at a coffee shop in Italy. You had been there a few days, tracking Ethan after he told you to go off the radar but you were never one to follow orders, even from the man you loved. 

“In short yes” benji said, “Ethan doesn't know any of us are looking for him”

“Of course he doesn't” You said, sighing, your purse hung on the back of your chair, which you picked up. You dug around for some money for the table. “So when are we leaving?” you asked. Benji smiled.

“He's going to be mad when he realizes we got you involved,” Ilsa told you. She flung her arm between yours as you walked out. The two of you had become close in the years since you first met. Years since Illsa first realized that Ethan already had the one he loved and that's why he never would have left with her. Once she found me and apologized, I told her that I could use a friend like her, someone who trusted Ethan, and who would fight with him. You and her had your own ways of keeping in contact with one another. 

“I know, but that's just something he'll have to deal with,” you told her. She smiled and the four of you walked out to get ready to go and track down Ethan, which was simple enough seeing as multiple different people were after him in Rome. When you managed to pinpoint his location and get him into the truck he was quite surprised at the gang in the car and soon more surprised by you sitting in the seat next to Luthor. 

Ethan stood on the balcony of the building you all took up residence in. The golden sky shone over Venice and created a lumenus look to Ethan. When he noticed your presence a wide smile replaced the solom one he had. 

“I didn't want you involved with this Y/N” Ethan told you, you laughed slightly as you walked into his arms. 

“I know” you told him, hugging him hard, “i love you too much to let you handle this on your own” 

“I love you too Y/N” Ethan told you. The two of you had been together for years. It started when you joined the mission during the collapse of the IMF after the bomb at the Kremlin. You were a friend of Benjis and he wanted your help with the team so you promised to meet at the train station before it left. So when you met Ethan that night and continued to work together, you couldn't help the developing feelings that you had. You knew about the truth of his ex-wife and you knew he had moved on. You knew this because Ethan told you the first night in that train car. You had sat atop the car that night, couldn't sleep after knowing that you were about to stop a nuclear attack. When Ethan joined you he told you, spilling everything he had been thinking about because he said he needed a friend and that you were new, knew almost nothing about him, and for some reason trusted you. You were friends for a bit but then you told him you loved him and he took you out to some nic restaurant and told you he loved you too. 

“I'm going with you to that meeting tonight,” you told him. Ethans face paled at the thought of you there with Gabrial and the others, it made his skin crawl. 

“I can't let you go, hunny if something happens to you…''Ethan said, begging almost that you didn't follow him into the White Widows den. “Nothing will, Ilsa will be there, she wont let something bad happen to me” You told him, holding his face to look at you. “Nothing bad will happen to me”

Ethan, you and Ilsa turned up at the meeting that night. You wore an old dress Ethan gave for missions, something easy to run and fight in, but also something fitting. It was a blue dress, almost silk. You walked into the party, your arm through Ethans as you walked around looking for Grace. Once you found her, and the rest of the party arrived for that special little meeting the night turned sour and memoryless. After the meeting commenced and Gabrial decided that your life was one he's considered ending for the sake of divinity and driving Ethan crazy you knew your promise to him was going to be broken. 

“You choose the girl, or you can let her die the pretty one with the dress” Gabrial said, eying you up. He knew how he could have known. Ethan stuterd and glanced between you and Grace. Ilsa sat there shocked, wondering what her life was worth and seemingly nothing in Gabriel's eyes. As he walked away you remember the hatred in his eyes towards Gabriel. 

You didn't remember how Gabriel got you alone in that halfway with five other men around you, but it happened. Ethan was off somewhere and Ilsa was too, it was just you in that hallway. You reached down to your thigh grabbing the knife you had there. You readied yourself for the men that were coming after you, one after another you took them down, slice, punch, kick, slice, punch, kick slice. You were remarkable with a knife and hand to hand combat. When it was Gabriel walking towards you, two knives in hand you knew you had to fight to stay alive. The two of you slashed and jabbed, your arms cut and bruised, your sides kicked and stabbed. You were limping, barely able to hold yourself up and your dress now had several slashes in them revealing your skin underneath. That fight ended with you dropping unconscious. 

Ethan was chasing after Grace while Ilsa was on the Widow getting her half of the key. Once they both had their respective keys and the other party seemingly unhappy, they met up and connected the key. 

“Ethan” Benji's voice sounded over the radio waves. 

“Talk to me,” Ethan said. The static over the radio was deafening.

“They got Y/N” Benji said. The deafening silence that followed made Ilsa tense. Her friend and the love of Ethans life was taken from both of them. Ethans whole world felt like it was crumbling away. “Gabriel is heading twords a bridge” Benjis voice broke ethan out of his inner thoughts. He looked up hatred clear on his face. 

“Benji, get me there now” He said running off, Ilsa still standing with the key in hand. “Ilsa get that to Luthor” and he was gone. Ilsa ran back to Luthor Key, placed safely in his hands. 

“Ilsa, you need to stop Ethan, if he kills Gabriel then we might not know what this leads to and how to kill the entity” Ilsa stopped from walking away, knowing that if she stopped ethan form the revenge he seeks for his past and for his lover right now, he could hate Ilsa for the rest of his life. “Promise me you'll stop him”

“If it means stopping the entity, then ill do it” Ilsa said, “but he wont like me taking…”

“I know, but revenge comes later,” Luthor told her. Grace sat peacefully in the chair across from him, worrying over her life and the lives of those set back out to fight gabriel. Once she had given the key to Ethan she raced back to the safe space of this room after being instructed to. She didn't want to run anymore, not after everything her life had led her too. 

Ethan raced down the paths that Benji gave him, and soon he reached the bridge. There he saw you a knife to your throat, wounds on your skin and Gabriel behind you. Your neck was twisted at an uncomfortable angle while he dig the knife further in, little drops of blood seeping out form under the knife. You lipped when Gabriel walked or studdard in his moves, you were in a great deal of pain and you wanted to lie down. Ethan's view turned red at the sight of you. He wanted to kill Gabriel and Ilsa was still blocks away from the bridge. Ethan walked up the bridge, jacket forgotten at the bottom. At first Gabriel tried to use you as a way to deter Ethan, but with your injuries you only made Gabriel weaker. He threw you down onto the concrete, making you get a splitting headache from the contact with the concrete. Ethans rage only intensified and the fight began, no guns, onl knoves and fists. 

The fight went on for ever, your vision got blurry and blurier and the blood you had leaking from your wounds only intensified. Ethan was running out of time to sve you if he wanted you alive. Ilsa was closer racing faster towards the fight, and faster twords stipping Ethan from killing the only informant they had for the key. Ethan only say hate and anger as he fought Gabriel. He hurt the woman he loved and almost killed her infront of him. He wanted to end the life of the man who made his life spiral, and sent him to be the spy and international rogue agent he was. 

“Stop!” Ilsa yelled as she came across the bridge, stopping all movement from Ethan and Gabriel. Before ethan tried to stap Gabrial and Ilsa had to run towards the fight again, Ethan wouldn't let you, too blinded by rage. Illsa stepped in taking the brunt of  a blade but shocking the two enough that she got a good hit on Gabrial sending him down and cuffign him. Ethan stood there, helpless and watching.

“Go get Y/N, Ethan” Ilsa said as she secured the man before Ehtan. Snapping Ethan out of his trance he ran over to you. You were barely continuous at this point, and bleeding onto the concrete of the bridge. 

“Y/N” He said to you, barely hearing the ringing in your ears. It was Ethan, you were positive. Your eyes slightly opened to see his worries. face. “Stay with me. Stay with me” He said again, muttering the words to himself like they will help you stay alive. You smiled and closed your eyes again, knowing you wouldn't die on that bridge tonight. 

When you woke up back in the little room of the safe house, your body killing you, you knew they had won. The feeling and overall pain in your body was almost exhausting as you sat up. Ethan stood by the balcony door, watching the sunrise over Venice. 

“Ethan” you said, voice horse and head pounding you watched him turn to look at you, a small cut on his cheek held together by tiny bandages. He walked over to you, sitting on the bed beside you. The morning sun shone into the room, casting  aglow to the room. Ethan looked tired and he looked happy.

“You scared me” he told you, holding your face, you melted into his hands. 

“I'm sorry, I held out for as long as I could. He's calculated,” you told Ethan. 

“I know, I fought him too sweetheart,” Ethan said, cracking a joke. As the sun rose higher in the sky you could truly see how saddened he was by how hurt you were.

“Your my hero Ethan” you told him, he smiled down at you, soon all the sadness was replaced by joy. He had you in his arms again. 

“Let's go home shall we?” Ethan asked you, just as the sun rose over the buildings and a new day, full of more savings to do.

[tomcruiseishot]

“None of it matters to me as long as we’re together”

Basic summary: You and husband Ethan Hunt work for the IMF. Unfortunately, the mission fails resulting in the death of thousands and a warrant is put out for the both of you. Despite the situation Ethan is just being really sweet and reassuring to the reader. (Takes place around MI5 sorry if this is inaccurate)

Warnings: Angsty and lots of fluff, very brief mentions of suicide

I stare at my husband across the living room of the MIF-issued safe house awaiting our fate. I begin to pace around the room. Ethan is concentrating on the computer. I’m not sure if the message has been sent yet but I’m sure I know what the contents will be. Something along the lines of “You fucked up the mission so bad we’re either gonna kill you or put you in jail.” My heart is beating so fast I think it’s going to explode. Honestly that would be better than becoming enemies of the god damn state. I hear Ethan’s breath and I know he received the news. I run over to his side and sit next to him on the couch. Ethan reads it aloud,

“We have received your request to remain active in the field, but due to current circumstances of the situation we unfortunately have to deny Agent Hunt and (L/N) from any active field duty until further notice. The MIF is no longer responsible for the actions of these agents and has requested incarceration due to negligence of power”

Ethan slams the computer closed and pinches the bridge of his nose in deep thought. The feeling of dread starts creeping up my body. I start to feel so so small. My job is everything to me. Well, everything besides Ethan. Oh shit. I forgot Ethan could lose his job or worse his life because of my mistake. Fuck fuck fuck. I can’t let that happen. He’s the reason I stayed with the IMF. He’s the reason I’m still alive in the first place. My comfort. My Ethan. I rest my head on his shoulder and take a deep breath. The smell of coffee and cinnamon overwhelms my senses.

Maybe in another world we wouldn’t be here awaiting our arrest and possibly even death. Maybe in another world we’d be sitting in the comfort of our own home that we bought together. Maybe we wouldn’t have chosen such a risky life. Ethan deserves that life. Even if he’ll never be allowed to work in the field again I’d rather die than see him put in jail for my own mistake.

And that’s when the idea hit me. I am going to turn myself in and fully take the blame for the failed mission and all of deaths. They would let my perfect husband go. Suddenly the feeling of dread is replaced by adrenaline and determination.

“We should go.”

Ethan says, “They’ll be breaking in here at any moment. We’ll figure something out. We have to.” He gets up and starts putting all of our emergency cash into his black bag along with weapons, and food rations.

“Ethan,” I say still sitting pathetically on the couch, “I’m not going.” He slowly turns around to face me. “What.” It sounds like a demand not a question. I can tell by the tick in his jaw that he is feeling a mix of desperation and confusion.

“I said i’m not going. Ethan, you deserve a better life and at the minimum a life at all. If I turn myself in and tell them how I panicked they’ll let you go free.” He shakes is head and steps toward me.

“Yeah that’s not happening-” I stand up and walk up to him.

“Ethan I’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. But you need to go.” He looks hurt. I don’t understand- he should be relived. He grabs both my hands and looks into my eyes.

“I would not be okay. I don’t care if I get to ‘live a life’ it’s not living without you.” I no longer can fight back the tears threatening to spill. what starts as a a few tears turns into a sob as I grab him in my arms. I say between sobs,

“I’m just so worried. How are we going to survive? Where are we even-” He pulls back from our embrace looking into my eyes,

“y/n. Look at me.” He says wiping a tear from my face.

“We’re gonna figure this out. We’ll find a way to fix it. It doesn’t matter if we’re starving or freezing. As long as I’m with you nothing matters.” I smile wryly and kiss him.

“Okay okay.” I start, “But then we should probably go.” I take a big sniff and he grabs my hand and opens the balcony door, getting ready to climb down.

[tomcruiseishot]

One shot: Ethan hunt x Rival Reader

I am shocked at the lack of Ethan hunt/Mission impossible fanfics on here. Anyways, I love a good enemies to loved so I decided to write one. Sorry if this sucks LMAO. If anyone likes this lmk i’ll write more.

WARNINGS: Kissing, Some blood, Mild language. This one is pretty PG-13. *Gif is not mine*

After finally arriving at the safe house, your feet are begging you to lay down. Unfortunately, you are covered in blood from todays mission and the last thing you want to do is go to bed without showering. The mission your on forces you to be in uncomfortable proximity to Infamous Agent Ethan Hunt. Even just hearing his name makes you irritated. This is not the only mission that you had to work with him. The two of you often get in each others way since you both want be making the decisions. What’s more aggravating is that no matter what you do on a mission, Ethan always gets credit for YOUR accomplishments. Anyway, instead of berating Ethan Hunt in your head, you really do need to shower. You slowly approach the bathroom. you hear the shower and realize ethan is occupying the only bathroom in the apartment. “Ethan hurry up, how much longer?”

The door opens and he leans against the white frame. You suddenly feel unable to breathe. He smiles at you with a hint of arrogance and an emotion you can’t quite place. “You missed me?” He sarcastically says, low and raspy in an attempt to not wake your sleeping colleague. Despite your best efforts you can’t help but watch the water bead of his chest onto his loose grey sweatpants. His abs are so defined they look sculpted. But you don’t have time for this. Besides, this is Ethan hunt we’re talking about here and you’re supposed to hate him. You try to think of something witty to say but your at a loss. “I need to shower Ethan, Im covered in blood and I’m tired.” He stares at you intently and you want to break his gaze but you keep from looking away. “You got pretty messed up out there.” He says. “Yeah no shit.” He chuckles lowly at this. “Listen. I know we haven’t always gotten along” he starts, “But you did really good today. We wouldn’t have killed the general without your quick thinking.”

I can’t believe Ethan hunt is being nice to me. When he says this, Your stomach erupts in a warm feeling that spreads throughout your veins and goes from your toes all the way up to your ears. I don’t have feelings for Ethan do I? We’re just talking agent-to-agent. He would’ve said that to anyone. His muscular arm brushes a tendril of hair out of your face and tucks it he kind your ear. You look up at him and begin to feel feel your stomach explode in butterfly’s. Suddenly you no longer remember why you knocked on the door.

Your legs start to feel like jelly but this time it’s not from exhaustion. He’s so close you can practically feel his breath on your face. He smells like a pine tree and his body heat makes you feel warm. He looks at you with something unprecedented: affection. For the first time you notice how handsome Ethan is. You begin to wonder what it would be like to press your lips against his. Ethan takes a brisk breath like he’s going to say something but then just stares at you, then nods in dismissal. “We’ll I should probably hurry up then.” He says. “Yeah probably.” You say chuckling.

He begins to shut the door. For some reason you’re filled with desperation for the man who you called your enemy 5 minutes ago. “Hey, Ethan?” He slowly turns back around and reopens the door. “Thanks for your help today. If I’m being honest I was pretty scared earlier and I don’t know what happened if you weren’t there,” The corners of his mouth turn up, “Hey, it’s my job. Don’t worry about it.” I start again, “But Im not just talking about the job. I guess what i’m trying to say is I’m really glad I met you. I mean glad know you-have you. you.” When he doesn’t respond you start regretting saying anything at all. “I’m sorry I don’t even know why I said that so I’m just gonna-” Suddenly he grabs your waist with his strong hands and pulls you in so close you can hear and feel his heart beat. He leans in and he puts his mouth on yours and kisses you roughly. You’re shocked but pleasantly surprised and immediately kiss back. Your whole body is tinging and it feels as if fireworks are going off inside the apartment. You grasp at his nape with one hand and with the other you feel the crevice’s of his abs that you’ve always secretly longed to feel.

He pulls away from the kiss and smiles at you with love and appreciation. He leans to whisper something in your ear. “we should take this… elsewhere.” You cock your head the same way a confused puppy does. “What, did you have something planned?” You both look towards the agent asleep of the bed. He looks back at you and his green eyes suddenly change to a hungry lust. You wryly smile. With one of his strong hands he forcefully pulls you into the bathroom and uses your body to shut the door. He raises your wrists above your head and pins you against the door with one hand, the other on the back of your neck. You wish this moment could last forever. He steps closer, roughly kissing you. He pulls back panting and looks st you with a small smirk. You smile then bite your lip. All you can think is you hope your friend isn’t a light sleeper.