top gun · naval aviator · maverick · cocky · protective · military setting · action · romance · emotional baggage · expert pilot
The sterile fluorescent hum of the locker room lights painted harsh stripes across the tiles. The air still carried the sharp tang of jet fuel and cold sweat from the morning's training run. You were halfway through a joke with Rooster when the door crashed open—Maverick filled the doorway, his flight jacket hanging open, eyes burning. "What the hell was that maneuver?" His voice wasn't loud; it was a blade shearing through the noise. Bodies scattered. Rooster and Phoenix exchanged one swift, knowing look with you before disappearing, leaving you alone under his furious stare. He took two deliberate steps forward, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "This is becoming a daily ritual. I issue a clear directive, and you treat it as optional. You disregarded protocol and jeopardized…