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In His Arms

Pairing: Maverick x Reader

Summary: You're tired and stressed and falling apart, but Maverick comes home just in time to save you...

Warnings: Serious fluff my people.

A/N: I wrote this in one sitting for a friend who hadn't slept in days and was really stretched thin, and this helped her relax. She's a fellow Tom Cruise stan. And later that day there was a Tornado Warning so I read it myself to calm down as I was stuffed in a closet! Yay. Lol. Anyways, hope y'all enjoy this One-Shot!

Words: 1699

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In all your life, you've never felt so down in the dumps. Your heart is heavy, even heavier than your eyes, which drop lower with every passing second as you stare blankly at your study guide, beyond your mental breaking point. The words blur, meshing into a foreign language that torments your senses. Your eyes cross and you sink forward onto the kitchen table, tucking your arms under your chin, you collapse. Finally your eyes fall shut. You start to relax when a pounding starts in the back of your head and your eyes fly open, a wince playing on your trembling lips. The horrible stomping of your brain goes on and on. Louder and louder until your ears ring and the room spins and you're so so tired...

You just want to sleep...

To not think for one minute.

You want a sleep where you don't have to wake up to exams or schoolwork or chores and your mind can rest.

But the headache is relentless and your whole body is quaking, on the brink of self destruction.

Quickly descending into despair, you lift your shaking hands from the table and plant your face into the open palms. Darkness shrouds your vision, but you keep both eyes fully open, afraid of causing your poor capsized brain any more pain.

You part your lips to breathe in the scent of your graphite scrubbed hands but a whimper comes out before you can inhale.

That tiny cry coaxes tears.

Silent tears and shaking shoulders.

Over the internal roar of your distress, you hear a door slam in the distance and the jangle of keys drop onto the coffee table.

"I'm home!"

Through your snotty palms and salt smeared cheeks your burdened heart skips a beat, lifting a little. Maverick, it sings.

Footsteps creak on the floorboards down the hall.

"Baby?"

Maverick

The footsteps stop.

"(Y/N)?"

You lift your head slowly from your hands and turn to face your fiance. Maverick hovers in the doorway to the open plan kitchen/dining room. His brown hair is a perfect mess, tossed about on his head, tangled and layered, sparkling with perspiration. Through your squinted eyes and the sting of tears and exhaustion, you can make out the grim look of concern on Maverick's face as he studies you, sweeping his eyes over your whole figure. He takes an abrupt step forward and reaches out a hand. Your body reacts, twisting around in your seat. Pulled by momentum, Maverick stumbles across the room. You lazily reach out an arm and wait with trembling lips for Maverick to breach the gap. In a haze of light, reflecting off the wall of tears obscuring your vision, you see Maverick's hands fall over yours, enclosing it in the embrace of his fingers. He then drops to one knee and presses the wad of hands to his chest, right over the very first patch he ever earned on his aviator jacket. You can feel a bit of the rough material through the gaps in Maverick's fingers. The familiar texture is like a wrecking ball. The chain screams as it's bulk swings in a powerful arc and in the blink of an eye, the metal link snaps and the weight falls.

Gravity reels it in.

Catching fire, it tears a hole right through your self control and you let out a sniffle.

Maverick's brows knit together and he moves your hand from his heart to his mouth, kissing your knuckles gently.

When you don't flash your usual smile, Maverick spurs into action.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

You bite your lower lip. Everything, you want to say.

I'm tired, I'm cold, I'm lonely. My head hurts and my eyes are heavy and everything around me makes me want to scream.

The answer is so simple in your head, it's hard to believe how impossible it is to say them with your own voice.

So instead, you shake your head, and crumble.

You cry.

And Maverick lets you.

He stands up in a heartbeat, letting go of your hand to pull you out of your seat, up and into his arms. As soon as his strong arms wrap around you, crushing you against his form, you lose all control of your body and become a twitching, retching, sobbing mess of emotion. The pounding in your head retreats. Slowly marching away, the obnoxious drumming fading into a lullaby of a hum. You sigh in more of a hiccup and bury your face into Maverick's chest, tucking the crown of your head so perfectly beneath his chin, the two of you ought to be pieces of a puzzle, cut exactly for the other. Maverick hears your muffled whimpers and coos reassuringly. It's a throaty yet soft and comforting sound that warms your heart.

Even more so when his hands wander into your hair, filtering through the (y/l/h) (y/c/h) strands with the utmost care. You sigh again, swallowing a spurt of tears, and relaxing into Maverick's embrace as he continues to stroke from your scalp to the ends of your hair. His touches sooth you out of a fit of broken tears and into a quietness you've been craving. Your mind is so silent, you fear it's melted away. There's no demanding voices, clamoring for your attention. No shouts about deadlines, no whines about needing sleep. Whatever you need or want is all background noise, turned so low you'd need super hearing to pick up a single note. The lack of sound leaves the most pleasant hum in your ears. Like the faint rise and fall of Maverick's breaths in the mornings or the trickle of a happy little stream, nooked in a sunny meadow. You give yourself up to the hum and slip away.

Not into panic, nor into despair, but peace.

And oh is the peace so delicous.

Wrapped in Maverick's arms, entrenched in his scent of cologne and metal, sweat and jet oil, your breathing evens out and your eyes close...

There's no pain.

Only quiet.

Only Maverick.

You smile and hum against Maverick's soft white undershirt.

Maverick's arms move lower down your body and before you can question the sudden shift - or even vaguely process it - he's hefting you up into his arms; one cradling your knees, the other securely curled about your upper back. You roll your head back, resting your cheek against his shoulder.

"Mav?" You murmur sleepily.

"Shh," Maverick whispers, bouncing you a little as he begins to walk. "I'm taking you to bed, sweetheart."

"Good 'cause...I'm..." The tired you meant to add is drowned in your pitiful yawn. Maverick's chuckle shakes your body. You crack open one eye just a smidge and catch the corner of his smile.

Despite his obvious amusement, he merely nods and mutters:

"I know, baby, I know."

Just that simple response is enough for you to relax deeper into Maverick's arms. As he turns the final corner in the hall, balancing on one leg with you clutched against his chest as he kicks open your bedroom door, you do nothing but breathe and stare out of narrowed eyes at his gorgeous side profile. He seems to glow in the dying light of the sun. The coastal sunset shines through the open windows, streaming into your bedroom along with the ocean breeze. Maverick nudges the bedroom door shut behind him and carries you the rest of the way to the bed, lowering you downwards as he stumbles to the finish line. Once you roll out of his arms onto the plush mattress, you hum in sweet release. Again, Maverick laughs, but this time you can only hear the rumble. You pout your lips, wanting to be pressed up against him again and to feel the way his chest vibrates when he laughs or the way the muscles of his jaw lift when he smiles. Your happy sound just a second ago becomes a moping groan of protest and the sounds of Maverick moving about the room pause.

"What is it?" He asks.

You stretch out a hand behind you. "Hold me."

Quiet.

Then, the bed in front of you sinks and you open your eyes to see Maverick, bending over you, grinning like a little kid. "Wrong side."

"I..." You yawn. "Had my eyes closed...idiot..."

Maverick's smile widens and he leans closer, kissing your temple. As he pulls back, he runs his fingers down the curve of your face and then up to the tingling skin he just marked with his lips. Gently, he brushes any hair away and tucks it behind your ear, where he leaves a second kiss, just below your lobe. You hum, a lazy smile tugging at your lips as you curl up, scooting as close to Maverick as possible with him only kneeling on the bed. Hold me. Your plea echoes in your ears as you snuggle your face into the blankets. The desire to have Maverick's arms around you once more is so strong, your insides ache. The seconds tick by, and you can feel Maverick move away, though the bed stays half caved in, weighed down by his presence. Still, it's not enough, and you start to lose the magic of this peace when Maverick tosses himself down beside you and grabs your waist, dragging you all the way against him.

"You came back." You smile.

"I had to take my shoes off." Mav whispers, his breath fanning the side of your face.

You lift your head and place it on his chest.

Your cheek meets warm, naked skin.

"And your shirt?" You tease before breaking out into a yawn.

"Only the best for my girl," Maverick replies.

You smile, and yawn.

Again.

"Go to sleep," Maverick whispers into your hair.

"Okay," You murmur.

It takes some time, but you do sleep. You listen to the rhythm of Maverick's breath, mixed with the lap of the distant waves and the rush of the salty air sweeping through the open windows. Your hands rest on Maverick's bare chest, warmed by his heated skin. His arms tighten around your waist and you fall. Head first right over the edge into an abyss of sleep so deep and dark and dreamless you might've feared it as death if you weren't so comfortable. At this point, not even a bomb could stir you from this reverie. No storm nor exam, no human stress nor supernatural collision could tear you from the peace of being in Maverick's arms. 

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