Top Gun: You Can Be My Wingman (Maverick X Reader)

Patrol.

"They don't appear hostile, but they've been leading us on for some time now. What should we do?"

There's a moment of silence on the mics, during which the bogey dives again.

"We're sending backup. We need them gone, but don't attack, just wait until they get there."

"Roger." Hawk responds for me, checking the gas metre quickly as he sits back, "We're running low on fuel, they better get here quickly."

I hum in agreement as the bogey twists upwards again, gritting my teeth at the harsh pressure surrounding us as I follow them round, ignoring the alarm bells going off in my head at the thought of running out of gas. Steeling myself, I shake the thoughts from my head and carry on, glad to hear the familiar sound of another pilot speaking through the mics.

"Quicksilver? It's Iceman and Slider, where do you need us?"

"Can you come in from above? Try to stay out of range until you're in a good position." I tell him, relief lacing my voice at the sound of the familiar aviators.

"Copy, we'll get there." Slider responds, their jet passing over ours as they move into position. Seconds later, the bogey tries to ascend again, only to cut off sharply when they realise there's another aircraft waiting for them, leveling out as if waiting to be shot up. When the gunfire, or missile, never comes, the pilot seems to decide that they've had enough, flying off at a different angle. Iceman and I follow for a little while, until it becomes clear that the bogey isn't coming back, at which point we break off and wheel back around towards the base.

"We've gotta head back, we haven't got enough fuel to go much further." Hawk reports to both Iceman and the aircraft carrier, waiting for a response from either.

"Return to the carrier. Iceman, Slider, stay on patrol." The brisk voice of some ground staff barks through the mics a second later, the audible groan from our wingmen echoing in my ear after.

Chuckling, I steer the jet in a direct line towards the carrier, happy to head back after hours of flying.

"See ya later!" I say to Iceman and Slider, laughing at the grumbling that I receive afterwards, Hawk chiming in as they slowly fade out their mics. Still grinning, I concentrate on getting home, keeping up a small conversation as we go, talking about the odd behaviour of the pilot from before. In record time, we manage to make it back to the carrier, the runway clear and ready for our approach.

As usual, I brace myself for the impact that accompanies the landing, my body jerking violently as we make contact with the runway, throwing me forwards slightly against the joystick, but I manage to keep it controlled. Applying the brakes, I wait for the jet to slow down completely, before driving it into a stationary position, unbuckling myself as I turn off the engines. Pulling off my helmet, I slide back the cockpit canopy and climb out, laughing as Hawk goes to do the same but managing to bang his still helmet covered head on the clear window above him as he goes, a curse leaving his lips.

"Hey, don't laugh at me! That hurt!" He protests, though I can see a grin on his face from under the visor of his helmet, the tinted glass concealing his eyes a little until he yanks it off.

"Sorry!" I apologise, still chuckling as he rubs a hand over the sore spot on his head, wincing a little.

Talking between ourselves, we head over to the changing rooms, where I quickly shower and change into a clean uninform, waiting in the hallway outside for Hawk to emerge, ready to report back to the commander. A couple of minutes later, the RIO pushes through the door.

"Damn, how do you always beat me?" He remarks as we turn down the corridor, nodding at ground staff as they pass by, making our way to the commander's office.

"You take too much time making sure your hair looks good." I inform him, jokingly, laughing louder when he pushes me into the wall, a mocking scowl on his face.

"I do not!" He exclaims, before reaching up to ruffle his hair, "Wait, does it look bad?"

"Oh yeah, horrible." I play along, nodding soberly at the look of false horror on his face.

As we round a corner, we start to straighten our uniforms, tying to avoid getting in trouble for looking shabby, adjusting our pins absentmindedly as we approach the familiar door. Knocking on it, we stand back against the wall and wait for the response, receiving one a minute later. Quietly, we open the door and step inside, straightening our postures as we do so.

"Quicksilver, Hawk. I trust you had a good flight?" The stout commander inquires formally as he looks up, eyes scrutinizing us carefully.

"Mostly uneventful, sir, but we came across a suspiciously acting bogey north west of the carrier." I report, keeping my voice level as I answer the commander's question.

"Suspiciously acting?" At my words, he leans forwards in his chair, biting the tip of his pen absentmindedly.

"Yes, sir. The enemy pilot did not act threateningly, but kept up a chase that lasted a significant amount of time. They only left when backup was brought in by control."

"Right. I'll take note of this. Anything else?"

"No, sir." I reply instantly, the day having been relatively dull otherwise.

"Alright, you're dismissed." The commander says, looking back down at his work, writing something down.

Leaving the room, we relax our posture as soon as we enter the corridor, exchanging a quick glance before breaking into a relieved laugh.

"Jeez, he's definitely the scariest of the lot." I remark after a regaining my breath.

"Really? I always thought Stinger was the worst." Hawk points out, causing me to rethink my words.

"True, but he does have his moments."

"Like when?"

I try to think up something, but come up blank, a chuckle leaving Hawk at my silence.

"Fine, I can't think of something now, but he's not that bad."

"Hey Oli, (Y/N)!" A voice calls from behind us, a smile crossing my face as I recognise them immediately. Turning, I barely have time to register Pete's own grin before I'm swept up in his arms, my face crushed against his chin as he embraces me. Instantly, the pleasant smell of his cologne surrounds me, a giggle leaving my lips as he spins me around, my own arms quickly looping around his shoulders in order to hold on. As he puts me back down, I become aware of Hawk making vomiting noises, the RIO pulling a joking face at us.

"Oi!" I growl at him, playfully, pushing his shoulder. Releasing me, Pete keeps an arm wrapped around my shoulders, pressing a kiss to my forehead as we continue walking.

"How's your day going?" The pilot asks us, rubbing my shoulder a little, affectionately.

"Pretty damn boring actually." I reply, Hawk agreeing with me, rolling his eyes at the memory.

"Oh? Wanna do something more fun?" He offers, looking over at Hawk at simultaneously.

"Like what?" Hawk questions sceptically, eyeing Pete curiously.

"I still have some beers left from the other day."

"It's like three in the afternoon, Pete!" I exclaim, laughing as he pulls a face.

"Fine! How about later?"

"I'm in!" Hawk chimes in, shooting me an encouraging look.

"Yeah, why not?" I agree, surprised when Pete pulls me in again to kiss my cheek, a happy smile on his handsome features, giggling at my confused expression, "What? I'm just happy that you're staying!"

"Yeah, that or he just wants to make out with you right here in the corridor." Hawk teases, walking off before we can reply.

"Well, I mean he's not wrong." Pete smirks at my mortified look.

"Pete!"

Throwing his head back, Pete laughs loudly as he follows after Hawk, ignoring the looks from the ground staff walking around us. Shaking my head in disbelief, I catch up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist, happily, glad with the decision I finally made.