#Beau “Cyclone” Simpson is So Done

[topgunruinedme]

I'M LOSING IT (FOR YOU)

Summery:

Having been giving the chance to move all the way from his hometown out to Miramar, with the chance to work under his idol in his dream position, he hasn’t hesitated. Thomas Kazansky, the Iceman, one of the most respected and most renowned sole weapon maker in the country, having the only known contract with the Navy to date, manufacturing their new age multimillion dollar aircrafts. Sure he was stuck running around the office, grabbing coffees and managing Ice’s calendar to ensure the man got home at a reasonable time, like a desk jockey. But who would want anything more? However, three years later, he hasn’t expected all of that threatened by a pretty face with emerald, green eyes. But once the press caught a whiff of something they became hound dogs, and before they knew it there was a scandal. Iceman was dating Maverick, a green-eyed menace of a man who worked with them as a contractor within the Navy, the Captain who accompanied them at events and kept their funding flowing. The only issue is Iceman being labelled as gay was not good for business, especially not with the bigoted DADT pushing clientele they hold. Issue One: Iceman wanted him to pretend to be in a relationship with the Captain. Issue Two: Mitchell was actually a smooth bastard when he wanted to be, and he might be falling for him. Issue Three: Mitchell was actually Kazansky’s husband.

“Im sorry you want me to do what?” “I want you to date Pete, until this all goes down” “Mitchell. Pete Mitchell. Your husband”  “Yes” “Cool. Cool. Cool, just making sure we’re on the same page. No, my answers No” “I’m your boss” “No you’re insane. I’m your assistant, and I don’t even like Mitchell”

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandom: Top Gun (Movies)

Word count: Aprox. 4K

Relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell/Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky & Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky & Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell & Beau "Cyclone" Simpson

Characters: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Chester "Hammer" Cain, Darran "Copper" Wendle

Additional Tags:

Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hidden Relationship, Forbidden Love, Throuple, Mention of Don't Ask Don't Tell, Don't Ask Don't Tell, Homophobic Workspace, Old Homophobic Thinking, Inspired by Set It Up, Modern Era, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Developing Relationship, Revealed relationship, Secrete Marriage, Secretary and Boss Action, Ice is a weapon manufacture, Mav is a Navy Contractor, Beau is a Secretary and Designer, POV Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Beau "Cyclone" Simpson is So Done, Beau "Cyclone" Simpson is a Softie, Dom Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Bottom Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Protective Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Married Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell is a Little Shit, Bottom Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky Lives, Protective Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Gay Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Soft Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Top Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Series: ← Previous Work Part 9 of (Jon Hamm) Beau “Cyclone” Simpson fics

   “Simpson!”

        Beau bit back a sigh at the call, irritation mounting as he gave the carrier an apologetic look as he hastily scribbled the last half of his signature on the e-pad. Snatching the flat package from the man’s offering hand, ignoring its fragile shipping label instruction stamped across the package with red ink once he caught the name of the sender, shoving it between his chest and the crook of his elbow. His own files pressed against it, wrist aching with the weight of the coffee tray, headset slanted forward on his ear, and he cursed lowly aware that there was only a certain amount of time before it dislodged and fell down around his neck. On his other hand his pointer and middle finger began to cramp with the weight on the metal hanger dug into the crease of his finger joint holding the pressed and ironed suit encased in a protective zipped sleeve, shoes safely polished and placed in a fabric protector attached to the hook adding to the weight, swaying behind him just over his shoulder as far as he could place it away from any possible spillage from the cups. He slipped past the crowded office into the left cut hallway that led to his ‘office’; which was realistically just a small cut out section of the hall which he was sure was once used to be for back up storage, which now held his small sad desk that was pressed up against the wall. A small, cluttered area which collected Kazansky’s mail and the endless phone calls and scheduled meetings, an eyesore for all those who passed it, as rare as it was, to enter the big, windowed view of Kazansky’s office.

        Using his hip, he pressed open the glass door to the office mainly due to the lack of available hands, tilting his head to press his headset against his shoulder to click the button on the side of his earpiece as he heard it emit a soft tring.

        “Beau Simpson, Kazansky Office. Please hold” he calmly answered falling into a practiced lull as he stepped further into the office, tolling his eyes and biting back irritation at finding Kazansky leaning over a chaotically overfilling desk of open books, scrolls, and blueprints spread over and under books with no care for risking damaging the prints, his paints, charcoals, and what he was assuming what was some sort of acrylic paint was smeared across the glass top desk. He mentally making a note to apologise to the cleaner before they got into tonight, wondering if that red velvet and truffle place was still open so he could order an apology gift for Darline the shift manager.

        He gently swung the suit around his body to hang it up, hooking it onto the rack by the door, neatly notched onto the old looking pipe that stuck out from the old brick accent wall which took after an industrial design. Once he was sure the suite was smooth and safely notched, he stepped back hand, quickly shifting his headpiece back into a stable position before firmly holding his files now removing the awkward pinch it was giving his elbow from clutching it for so long.

        “Sir” he acknowledged lightly as he stepped further into the office pointedly ignoring the man lounging in the plush lounging chair that sat on the lush, carpeted area. The darked haired man’s legs were spread, uncaring for the way that his uniform formed tightly over his thighs, lips turned downwards, brows furrowed slightly, fist pressed against his chin looking bored. The mans seamed to light up as he entered, head dipping up at the sound of his voice lips curling up in pleasure, forcing him to bit back his retort as he slid the books aside to create space and placed his files onto the desk, careful to not damage anything Ice might be working on but also not allowing the files to be re-swallowed by the mess and lost forever.  

        “Simpson” Kazansky muttered distracted as he tapped the dull side of his pencil against his jaw in thought one palm pressing against the desk, hunched over as he worked. “Did you get my dry cleaning for tonight’s gala?”

        “Steamed and hung sir, shoes are polished as well. The car will be picking you up from the office at 9, and the speaker should greet you upon arrival”. He began to quickly scan the table picking up the books that looked untouched for a while flipping them shut and began to stack them in a pile creating some space that he knew was pointless because it would only be swallowed again once he left. “Don’t forget you have a lunch in Manhattan with Cortell at 12, the car will arrive in the lobby at 11:20. Then you have two hours of sketching time before you have blook meetings with the committee”.

        He had hardly finished his mental recalling of his boss’s calendar when a hand cut through his vision snatching one of the coffee cups, pointedly the one black dot on the lid, from his tray causing him to scowl. He glanced up and glared at Mitchell who calmly grinned at him from his new position leaning back against the table, sipping from the brim staring straight at him, baiting him.

        “Actually” he drawled, “That was mine”.

        “No bed side manors for the guests Cy?” Mitchells lips tipped into fond a fond smile.

        His teeth grated at that horrible nickname; the man hadn’t flattered since he first met him. Giving people callsigns is his thing, Tom had explained to him once when he first joined the company, clearly over trying to argue the calling card of Iceman, once the name flowed through the correct Navy channels it seemed people were much more willing to work with Kazansky, so he had left it at that. Don’t ask what you don’t want to know, his grandmother had told him once. Especially when apple pie was involved.

        “Not to uninvited guest, not particularly no”.

        Kazansky reached out blindly, snapping his fingers insistently causing his eye to twitch in indignation as he silently passed the man the remaining warm coffee, leaving his hand empty other then the tray which he untucked from its folds, flattening it and placed the dismantling tray into the bin, taking a moment to try and regain his composure.

        “And here I thought you loved me Cy” Mitchell chuckled lightly.

        “Only the amount of money you make the company sir,” he bit back, releasing a silent shuttered breath, turning towards them with a customer service smile, patient but deadly.

        Mitchell smirked lazily kicking his leg out his hip pressed against the glass looking lazily at ease in such an awkward position. “Well, you know how sort after and irreplaceable I am”

        He hummed “I didn’t realise the Navy had a special place in their hearts for recruiting garden nomes”.

        Mitchel’s expression tightened, smile turned sharp, “Don’t get cute with me boy”.

        “Cute, you must be mistaken, I’m nothing but polite and efficient” he calmly stepped closer reaching out around the man towards the side table and extending a bowl of butter drops Kazansky liked keeping by his desk for when he was thinking, “Candy drop?”

        The man scoffed roughly rolling his eyes so aggressively he hoped they would fall out of his skull and cause his to drop dead- placing the drink down on the table grumbling as he bitched “Who gets soy milk in their coffee anyway?”

        “People who have an intolerance to lactose. Now if I had known you would be here, if you have scheduled an appointment, I would have gotten you a coffee in your order”.

        Mitchell tisked dismissively, “Isn’t it your job to keep track of Tom’s schedule?”

        “If you actually scheduled, then yes”.

        The man eyes flickered to the documents on the desk eyes catching the red ink, grimacing as he took another sip. “You know when I send mail labeled fragile, I intend you to be fragile with them Cy”.

        “Nothing you ever send is fragile Mitchell, and if it was important, you would have hand delivered it” he informed him well aware of the man’s habits having them drilled into him for the last three years and counting.

        “Don’t be dumb Cy, if it was that important you wouldn’t even know about it” Mav smirk was sharp, taunting him.

        Before he could reply a low thrumming filled the room sounding more like something was dying, calling out in agony.

        “Simpson, the computers beeping again” Kazansky muttered waving his hand in a general direction to his left.

        That…was a computer?

        Frowning he stepped away from Mitchell and addressed the desk before him, flipped over books, carefully closing them and stacking them into tower, rolling up scrolls before finding the said object buried under an avalanche of notes, only to sighs heavily.

       “It’s beeping because it’s overheating again. Sir, you need to close the tabs you’re not using, or you’ll overload the system-” he reminded him for the umpteenth time.

        “They’re all important to my work-” Kazansky glanced up eyes narrowing on him as if threatening to close his…109 tabs… was life threatening. Why the hell does he work for this man again? Ah right, despite the shit hours, endless workdays and wanting to quit at least 27 times an hour, it was great experience on his record, and it came with good pay for someone in his position. Enough to have a decent apartment, care for his cat Phranch, and small French bulldog Pez, his endless succulents and the climbing plants that were taking over his bathroom and fire escape. It allowed him to wear decent business wear to work, his dress shoes, ironed business trousers neatly tucked into his white button up which was rolled up to his elbow with a brown belt to tie it together. Kazansky never specifically said he needed to dress to impress but considering he always walked around in a suit it was heavily implied, and it wasn’t like he could wear his sweater wear around here in his position, he’d get trampled on.

        “I know sir, but the more the computer overheats the quicker it will die”.

        “That’s idiotic,” he heard the man mutter attention stolen by a stray line, that he leaned over the table, bitting the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration as he gently adjusted the line of the frame to the canopy of the newest F-22’s.

        Deciding that it was a lost cause attempting to argue with the man who clearly didn’t quite grasp technology the same as the other bothersome man in the room, he picked up the laptop rescuing it from its doom sliding it under his arm resisting the urge to flitch as the hot object pressed against his skin just below his rolled sleeve. There was no point trying to fix the problem here, he would need to bring it back to his desk and cross refence the tabs with Kazansky’s open projects before actually deleting anything. Why the man couldn’t simply use the desktop on his desk was beyond him, let alone the tablet he ended up retrieving every so often when the man’s carelessness fried something, no doubt at the bottom of the draw of his neck, he’d have to charge it up, it was just as frustrating to care for but thankfully Kazansky had a better understanding of it, even if it was only the sketching app. Ironically the man had no issues working a phone, he just simply chose to ignore calls.

        Ignoring the way the laptop pinched at the hair on his arm he took the time to order the files he placed on the desk, placing the more time pressing on the top of the pile and the people he personally thought deserved to wait longer just purely from being dicks on him on the phone on the bottom, idly listening to Kazansky quietly mutter to Mitchell about the design for the sleek airframe, as he tugged a pen from his pocket and placed it on top. A 0.5 needle point, sleek but precise, something he knew Kazansky would want, the man was cold and cutting, and he displayed those exact traits in his mannerisms and signatures. He knew that Kazansky would get to them eventually, the man always did a scan of the desk after lunch taking the time to check over the files and [placing aside the work he completed before sinking into his creativity zone. The files where always signed at the end of the day so he didn’t particularly care how long it took or what exactly the man’s process was.

        He twisted, fingers tightening around the laptop as Mitchells eyes jumped up from the table where Kazansky was running his pen over a mechanics of the inner engine and those green eyes softened watching him even with those tugged tight smiles he always got when he knew the man was tired and stressed. He ignored him, even when he waited anxiously with a bated breath, uncomfortableness itching at his chest, as Mitchell let the tense moment drag in silence instead of butting in and trying to get him, to rise for his bait as he usually did in moments like these. Always gleeful to steal a moment or two to send him off out of the office in a foul mood ensuring he wouldn’t bother them for a few hours, always dragging it out as long as he possibly could before forcing himself to face the man again trying to hide the way his fists curled, or the tenseness in his gaze as it scanned over the man as if he wasn’t even there. Much to Mitchell’s endless amusement.  

        He turned his attention to his boss, trying to bite back his irritation when the man didn’t even bother to acknowledge him. Only a few more years. Only a few more years, he reminded himself. Then I can have enough experience under my name to work my own firm, to get a better job where it's my designs that are being followed instead of running coffee orders like I was Kristien fucking Stewart.

        “Do you need anything sir? Or am I to return to my desk?”

        “No”. The blond waved him off dismissively, “Push back my meetings for an hour, I don’t want to be disturbed”.

        His eye twitched, hand shifting ever so slightly behind his back, view obscured, as his fingers curled into a fist. Placing a painfully fake smile on as he nodded empathetically “Of course sir”.

        Did he not just tell the man he had an appointment? An important one. Like hell he was pushing that back, the man could work in his designated sketching time. Did he know how much time he spend negotiating with this firm? How many people he had tried to be calm with as they cursed him out? How many hours of overtime he had put in to just keep up with the work load this meeting created to begin with. NDA’s, contacts, security details.

        Did he know how long this took to set up?

        “That means you too Mitchell” Kazansky’s unimpressed drone cut through his anger with a sharp flash of gratification at the disgruntled and offended look the other man wore. Mitchell immediately moved forward towards Kazansky who didn’t even bother to glance him with a look, a noise of protest already bubbling from his throat when the moment was interrupted by his headset beeping with an withholding call, reminding him that he still had someone on hold.

        Pushing back the urge to groan knowing fully well he was in for a tongue lashing due to the wait, he smiled, clicking the side button reconnecting the call. Moving towards the doorway towards his desk as he put his all, whatever will to live that was left at 9:30 in the morning, into an energetic bubbly voice that was expected of him for his position. “Thank you so much for holding. How may I-” his sentence was cut short, tongue catching behind his teeth in alarm jaw clenching, as his strid stalled in the centre of the room, “Mhh. I understand”.

        To his left, Kazansky finally glanced up brows furrowed half in annoyance and the other in intrigue. “Simpson?”

        “Cy?” Mitchell stepped forward towards him as if it would help the distress flooding through him, those green eyes searching him for some sort of unnamed response.

        His smile felt strained as he silently walked towards the door pausing, releasing the pressure bar holding the doors open and flicking the lock shut. He then stepped back towards them, closing the distance hastily with three long strides placing the computer on the computer on the files, ignoring the way the computer whined in complaint when he opened a new tab. Lips pressed as he hummed in agreement again, along with the man on the phone who ratted off in a confused half panic. “Don’t worry Marty, I'll handle it, yes, goodbye” he reached up numbly clicking the button as the call finished staring up at the two men.

        He clicked on the newest post on the webpage and glanced up at the two men offering them a grim look as he twisted the computer around to reveal the page. “We have a problem”.

        There sitting on the screen, loud and proud, was an image of Kazansky, stone faced in his usual business attire hands folded behind his back. Mitchell beside him, looking slightly more human, one hand in his pocket, the other fiddling with his lapel, although the man’s head was tilted slightly towards Kazansky’s, the angle of the photo making it look deceptively like they were speaking to each other quietly. Secretive. Intimate. And above it all, in capitals with colours flying across the screen labelled:

KAZANSKY Co., OWNER OFFICIALLY LEAVES HIS COCKPIT, ONLY TO ENTER ANOTHER: THE GAY STORY OF A CENTURY!         Thomas Kazansky one of the youngest CEO in Marmari, who had not only managed to double his worth in five years but to successfully secure the one deal that had everyone at war. A naval contract.          Only now it leads to a more interesting story. After all it’s not everyday you hear for the rich falling for the commoner. Thomas Kazansky or affectionately called Iceman by his colleague Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, was recently appointed the soul contract for a classified military intelligence service, important enough that he was given a Captain to work with. A Captain, who’s has been spotted on several occasions leaving his personal building, and office at odd hours. A naval officer who is comfortable enough to stand so close to the Iceman, a man who it turns out, may not simply be a man. But rather, a boyfriend.          It will be a surprise to everyone here when I inform you with utmost glee that Thomas Kazansky is gay! Confirmed face to face by a trusted anonymous source of mine. Not only is he gay, but the suggestion of the image above sealed my suspicion, Iceman is dating Maverick! Well, I guess we all know who’s who in the relationship…Click here to read further… View count: 2,408 Comments: 1,002 Reposts: 456 Posted 8 minutes ago, 27th September, 2022.

        “What the fuck is that”. Mitchell was starting at it, had been staring at it for a good few minutes as if reading it, and rereading it again, as if that would change the words on the page.

        “A scandal” he offered.

        “An anonymous source?” Mitchell sounded scandalised, furious, as if this was his own reputation literally falling to the ground around him. The Man snarled shoving off the desk forcing himself into a pace with a sharp calming breath which seemed to be failing as the pent-up man reached out towards the desk as if to throw something only to stop himself mid motion. “Who’s going to believe this shit?

        He glanced at the scene tiredly in growing temptation, mentally wincing at the views listed there, “Around two, three thousand as of right now” and growing.

        “Three thousand?!” Mitchell stared at him, “How the hell do that many people have spare time to read the news during work hours”

        “You always mange to find time to bother me at work during work hours” Kazansky muttered, he had relocated, numbly moving away from his desk barley missing spilling his dirty paint water onto his work in his haste to collapse into the plush chair Mitchell had abandoned earlier. His elbows on his knees, hands pressed together, fingers pressing against his lips in contemplation, tying to find a way out of…this.

        “You need to do damage control” he said quietly, “We need to put a statement out, debunk it all. The longer we wait the harder it will be to contain. But we don’t want to do it too soon, or they’ll think we’re trying to hide something”.

        “Meaning hell take damage either way” Mitchell sounded deflated, defeated, dropping back into the plush chair across from Kazansky with a weary groan, “Shit Kay-”

        “I know” Kazansky mused, “I know”.

        “What the hell are we going to do?” Mithcell scrubbed his face, ���You know Cain and Wendle won’t tolerate colours around your name, even if it’s only a rumour-”

        “They’ll bounce” he offered, “Unless they were convince otherwise, and we offer them something more important than their own pride”.

        “What would possibly be more important?” Mitchell snapped.

        He worried his lip, “Darkstar” he broached carefully.

        Kazansky head snapped to him, “What?” he asked tensely.

        Mitchell had gone pale, still.

        “Where did you hear about that?” Kazansky demanded, “That’s confidential. They require Naval credentials to access”.

        “Cains sends emails, I read emails. It’s not hard to put together sir. He’s been emailing for a few months about it, trying to bring it back into motion, apparently it was shelfed back in 1986 after a pilot died during testing-”

        “Nick Bradshaw” Mitchell bit out sounding far more breathless than he should, “His name was Nick”.

        Shit.

        They knew him.

        He hated when he stepped into unventured land. It was an unmarked minefield waiting to blow. “He’s been trying to push the initiative” he continued quietly, “Apparently with your approval he can override the board of director votes and put it into motion. If we give him that, then…he won’t be thinking about anything the news prints out. Other than how much money he’s going to make”.

        “And Wendle?” Kazansky asked quietly, head bowed somewhat terrifyingly similar to one praying in purgatory, his own time spend on his knees in the small purgatory momentarily flashed behind his eyelids, the total sense of helplessness and weighted lack of navigation.

        “Well sir, let’s just say I have enough collected on him from his drunken loose tongue at the last event to hold him off for a while, until we can pin him with those dirty under the table deals, he’s been doing with Russia”.

        “He’s dealing to Russia?” Mithell muttered, “That’s the worst country to try and blackmail”.

        “No one said he was smart, and no one said he was the one trading. We just need to make it believable”.

        “You can’t get rid of a scandal” Kazansky glanced up with a solemn acceptance, nodding his head slowly in acknowledgment, “You can only make a bigger one”.

[ebimdae22]

Top Gun Maverick characters as random photos in my camera role (again)

Rooster to Hangman

Phoenix

Slider

I know he’s not even in TGM but just give me this one

Omaha

Maverick

Cyclone about Mav

[callsign-dexter]

Knight in a Hawaiian Shirt 18+

Request: Ok, I saw Top Gun Maverick again what feels like the 100th time, and I still love it so much ! It gets me goosebumps during so many scenes !

So I was wondering if you'd consider a Bradley Bradshaw imagine where he lays his eyes on a girl at the Hard Deck, who currently has a nasty conversation with a weird guy and Bradley notices how uncomfortable she feels, so as the gentlemen he is, he saves the girl, acting like her boyfriend and she's more than happy about that. After that they meet up regularly and she even stays over at his apartment from time to time (just cuddling) and one night as he holds her close, whispers in her ear that he loves her and thinks he's asleep, but you hear him, kiss him and if you like some smut, but if not, then just even more cuddles 😊

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut

Masterlist

A/N: @gunsandguardians and @imagine-all-the-fandoms prepare yourselves for some Bradley Bradshaw smut!

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw was having a day, no scratch that, Bradley was having a rough week. His jet had several malfunctions, he had meetings non-stop, Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson was breathing down his neck to get certain numbers and data, and to top it all off he and the rest of The Daggers took on a teaching position and the new Top Gun cadets were putting them through the ringer. He had to teach a multitude of young versions of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. Also, all the females in the class were flirting with him and it was making his jaw tick and teeth clench. It was Friday which meant that it was time to let the load off and relax. Everyone had decided to go to The Hard Deck and he agreed very quickly and now he was leaning against the wall on his fourth beer of the night and he could practically feel the tension melt away. He had showered at the base getting rid of the smell of jet fuel and had changed into his typical Hawaiian shirt, white undershirt, jeans, and shoes. “What a day.” Jake said coming up to him, usually he was cocky and could match the energy but even he was admitting it was a tough day. After the mission the tension seemed to die down between them and they actually became friends.

“Day? What a week.” Bradley said, taking a drink and Jake nodded.

“You got that right.” Jake said 

“Bagman get over here so I can beat your ass at pool.” The voice of none other than Natasha 'Phoenix’ Trace said.

“You’re going down.” Jake said and started to walk over to her after patting Bradley on the shoulder. As the atmosphere around him grew into the usual Friday night crowd. He was tending to blend in with the crowd not looking to hook with anyone but that doesn’t mean he could still look around. 

“Hey.” Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd said to him and he was turning to look at him.

“You just got in here?” Bradley asked and Bob nodded.

“Yea, I needed to talk to Maverick and Cyclone about taking maternity leave.” Bob said he was married to his high school sweetheart and they were expecting a little boy. Finding out he was married shocked everyone.

“How is Marie and the baby doing?” Bradley asked

“She’s doing well. Ready to be done with the pregnancy especially since it has been so hot. Baby is healthy and stirring up trouble. I won’t be staying long.” Bob said

“Good. Yea I might not be staying long either. It’s been a tough week.” Bradley said and Bob nodded. Bob was then being pulled away by Phoenix which once again left Bradley alone. Throughout the night everyone had come up and talked to him and he mingled around. Currently everyone was crowded around the pool table and dart board. As they talked and mingled with each other and other patrons in the bar. At some point Natasha came over and started talking to him about a show that they were both watching. As he listened and gave input a distressed female voice, yours, and a very drunk voice came to his ears and he looked over in that direction. 

When he looked over, he was quickly breath taken at how beautiful you were. He wondered if his father, Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw, felt about his mother, Carole Bradshaw. As he was admiring you the more of the conversation he heard and the more he concentrated on your body language and face. He could see how uncomfortable he was. Being the gentleman, he was raised to be he wasn't going to stand for a female to be harassed and was surprised he hadn't had the bell rang or thrown out but after seeing the crowd in the bar he understood it would be hard to keep up. “Are you even listening?” She asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face and he turned to look at her.

“No sorry.” He said and she looked to where he was looking at.

“She's cute but I don't like how close that man is. She's very uncomfortable.” Natasha said and he nodded.

“I'm going to go do something about it.” He said and she smiled.

“Go be her knight in a Hawaiian shirt.” She said, pushing him. 

“I plan on it. I'll talk to you later.” He said and she nodded and he began his walk over to you. As he got closer the better, he could hear and it made his blood boil.

“How about me and you go back to my place and we can have some fun.” The man smirked.

“I'm not interested. Leave me alone, please.” You asked, trying to look for an escape.

“Oh, come on. I'm a lot of fun I promise. I can leave you satisfied.” He said

“I told you I'm not interested. I need to get back to my friends.” You said 

“I think they'll understand.” He said as he touched your arm and you flinched and was about to say something when Bradley beat you to it.

“They you are, Babe. I've been looking everywhere for you.” Bradley said and both you and the man looked up at him as he slung and arm around your shoulders.

To be honest you didn't want to come out tonight but it was your best friend’s, Shiloh, birthday and he wanted to go bar hopping. He begged you and after so long you finally agreed so you, him, his fiancé, Blake, and 3 other friends, Makayla, Rebecca, and Ruby, went on a bar hopping spree. As the night grew and you had been to several bars you actually started to ease into it and have fun. After visiting 3 other bars, you had barely drunk anything, so he decided to go to a cute little bar on the beach. He had about it and talked highly of it and what really sold you was the fact that it was a Navy bar, something about men in uniform did something to you. You had just arrived and had made your way over to a table and looked around. “This is cute.” Shiloh said, looking around.

“It is! Oh look, men in uniform!” Rebecca said practically squealing. 

“Would you keep it down? You'll get their attention.” Makayla said blushing but she couldn't deny that they were all good looking. You scanned the group but one caught your eye. He had a mustache and was in a Hawaiian shirt instead of the Khaki uniform. As you stared and daydreamed Blake spoke up. 

“I'm getting drinks. Everyone want something?” Blake asked

“Yes!” The group said and you nodded. Everyone told him what they wanted and he was off. It wasn't a few minutes later and he was coming back with drinks in hand. As the night went on you engaged with the group topic at hand and your attention forgot all about the man in a Hawaiian shirt. 

The 6 of you stayed longer at this bar, which you learned was named The Hard Deck, then any of the others but you weren't complaining. As the night went on you needed to use the bathroom so you nudged the closest person to you which happened to be Blake. “Hey I'm going to the bathroom; I'll be right back.” You said and he smiled and nodded.

“We'll be here.” He said and you chuckled and then left. You squeezed your way through and to the bathroom. You got in and to a stall and quickly did your business. Once you were done you walked out and washed your hands and headed out. You didn't get far from the bathroom before some sleazy drunk man was trapping you. 

“Hey beautiful lady.” He said and the stench of alcohol hit your nose and made it scrunch up.

“Please leave me alone.” You said trying to push past him.

“Oh, come on. I just want to get to know you better.” He said now smiling and it made your stomach flip.

“Please leave me alone. I need to get back to my friends.” You said and then his hand came to touch your arm and you tensed up.

“How about me and you go back to my place and we can have some fun.” The man smirked.

“I'm not interested. Leave me alone, please.” You asked, trying to look for an escape.

“Oh, come on. I'm a lot of fun I promise. I can leave you satisfied.” He said

“I told you I'm not interested. I need to get back to my friends.” You said 

“I think they'll understand.” He said as he touched your arm and you flinched but he wasn't paying attention to it.

“They you are, Babe. I've been looking everywhere for you.” A male voice said and both you and the man looked up at him as he slung and arm around your shoulders. He leaned down to your ear “Just go along with it.” He said and kissed your temple.

“Who the fuck are you?” The drunk man, you didn't even know his name, said.

“I'm her boyfriend. I've been looking for her everywhere. I got out of work late and was late getting here.” He said the tension you had melted away.

“I'm sorry I didn't wait for you. I wanted to get here and get a good table.” You said 

“It's ok, Babe.” He said and then turned towards the man who looked pissed. “I think it's time for you to leave. Leave before I have Penny ring the bell and you have to pay for everyone's round.” He said.

“Fucking bitch.” The drunk man said. 

“Penny!” The mustache man said and Penny looked over “Ring the bell. We have someone being disrespectful to a woman.” He said and she smiled and nodded. The sound of the bell rang and cheers erupted throughout the bar. The drunk man grumbled and walked off.

“Thank you so much.” You said looking up at him while moving to be in front of him and he looked down at you and smiled.

“It was my pleasure. I'm Bradley.” He said 

“I'm Y/N. I'm here with friends that decided to go bar hopping for another's birthday.” You said and Bradley smiled.

“Your group picked a good place to stop. The Hard Deck is a very nice place to be.” Bradley said and you nodded.

“I can agree with that. We've stayed here the longest out of all of them. I can't thank you enough for saving me from that man.” You said 

“I couldn't let a beautiful girl like you be harassed. My mom would beat my ass if I did.” He said and you chuckled. 

“Your Mom sounds like a smart woman.” You said

“She was. I lost her when I was 18.” He said 

“Oh gosh. I'm so sorry.” You said and he smiled. 

“I want to take you out on a date.” He said and you smiled.

“I would like that.” You said pulling out your phone and handing it to him and he was quick to grab his. You put your number in his phone and he put his in yours. 

“Pick you up at 7 tomorrow night?” He asked and you smiled up at him.

“That'll be perfect. I really need to get back to my friends.” You said and he smiled and nodded. 

“Can I walk you over to them? Just so nobody tries anything unwanted.” He asked and you smiled and he was already winning you over.

“I would really like that.” You said 

“Lead the way.” He said and so you did. 

“There you are! We were worried but then I saw you with this hunk of a man,” Shiloh said visibly checking him out but so was Blake “I knew you were good.” He said and you laughed.

“This here is Bradley and he saved me from a drunk man and got Penny to ring the bell on him.” You said

“Well, it's nice to meet the man that saved our girl.” Blake said and you blushed and then introduced everyone to him.

“Nice to meet you all.” He said 

“Yo Bradshaw!” Another male voice yelled and everyone looked over. 

“Now I have to go. I'll pick you up at 7 tomorrow night.” Bradley said the last part was directed at you.

“I'll text you the address.” You said

“Sounds perfect.” He said and then he was leaving as he was back with his group. You turned to yours and everyone was smiling.

“Oh, shut up.” You said and everyone laughed. The rest of the night consisted of you and Bradley sneaking glances at each other and blushing while looking down and smiling, Bradley would throw winks at you occasionally. You couldn't wait until tomorrow night.

The next day you were anxious about your date with Bradley that night. When you had gotten home the night before you sent him a quick text thanking him for saving you and your address. As the day grew on leading up to the night you were trying to figure out what to wear and sending text messages to everyone. 

3 hrs before the date there was a knock on the door and you were quick to go and open it. Behind the door was Blake and Shiloh. “We've come to help.” Blake said.

“I really don't need help.” You said but they looked you up and down and Shiloh pulled a face.

“Oh, Sweetie, you need us.” He said

“Is what I'm wearing that bad?” You asked

“It's not great.” He said as he led you to your closest and sat you down as he started to go through your closet with the occasional ‘no’ ‘definitely not’ ‘why do you still have this?’ you just sat back and smirked and chuckled at your best friend’s tactics. You loved him dearly and trusted him full heartedly. 

“You helped me pick some of this out. Just remember that.” You said and he stopped and looked at you.

“Yes, I remember. Everything is great but not for a first date with a hunk of a handsome man.” He said and you looked over at Blake.

“Do you hear your fiancée?” You asked

“I do and I agree.” He said and your mouth dropped open and you let a little scoff but it was a playful one. 

“Oh, this is perfect!” Shiloh finally said and pulled out a cute shirt that complimented your eyes. He held it up to you and nodded in approval “Yup this is the one.” He said and then handed it to you and then he went to your chest of drawers and started to root around them until he found a nice pair of jeans and then grabbed some comfortable shoes. 

“What would I do without you?” You asked

“Be unfashionable.” He said and you chuckled. You got dressed in your bathroom and then came out and they were both giving their approval. By the time you were done it was 7 and there was a knock on the door. Before you could even get out of the bedroom Blake was rushing to get the door. You could hear them laugh and talk and then you were walking out.

“You look beautiful.” He said 

“Thank you. You look handsome.” You said and he smiled.

“Thank you.” He said 

“Alright you two. Don't stay out too late and don't get into trouble. Call if you need anything.” Shiloh said as he was ushering the two of you out and closing the door behind you both.

“Sorry about them. I wasn't planning on them being there.” You said as you both walked to his Bronco.

“Nonsense. It's nice to have friends like them two.” He said 

“Yea they're pretty great. So, where are we headed?” You asked

“I hope you like Thai food. There is a place that has really good curry and pad thai.” He said 

“Thai food is one of my favorites.” You said as he drove to the restaurant. The car ride was filled with small talk and getting to know each other. When you arrived, he parked and was quick to get out to open your door. “Thank you.” You said.

“Anything for a beautiful woman like you.” He said and you blushed like mad. You both walked in and he gave them his name and you both were quickly being led to a table outside.

“I love the smell of the ocean and the sea breeze.” You said and he smiled.

“I love it too.” He said

“It seems we have a lot in common.” You said and he chuckled and nodded.

“It seems like it.” He said the date went smoothly. You both ordered the same thing and the same drink. You both laughed and shared stories until the restaurant started to close and both of you were forced to leave. “Want to walk the beach?” He asked as the sunset and casted a golden glow over everything and made him look much more attractive.

“I would love to.” You said and so the two of you set out walking the beach. Your pinkies touched each other and danced until your hands were coming to hold each other's. Both of you ended up sitting on the beach watching the waves crash into the beach and the moonlight lit everything up. It was a little chilly and he could tell so he brought you into his side. You laid your head on his shoulder testing the waters and when he brought you closer and didn't push you off you knew it was going to be great. It was getting late and you started to yawn.

“Are you ready to go back?” He asked

“Not really but it's getting late.” You said and he smiled. 

“I would love to continue this on another date.” He said and you smiled looking up at him as he looked down at you.

“I would love that.” You said and he was kissing the top of your head. You both got up and headed to his Bronco. He held your head on the way there and held it when he was driving you home. When you arrived at home, he walked you to your door and waited until you were inside before he left. It was dark when you got in which meant that Shiloh and Blake were gone. You smiled to yourself as you changed into something comfy. When you sat on your couch your phone dinged.

Bradley Bradshaw: Had a great time tonight. Can't wait to do it again.

You smiled and giggled and started to text back.

I had a great time too. How about next Saturday?

You didn't have to wait long before he responded.

Bradley Bradshaw: That sounds perfect.

How about a picnic on the beach at sundown maybe in the back of your Bronco?

Bradley Bradshaw: I would love that. Consider it a date.

You giggled and kicked your feet. You couldn't wait until next Saturday. You texted your friends letting them know you were home and that you had a second date and they all texted back in the group chat almost immediately. You answered and when everything seemed to calm down you put your phone next to you and turned on the TV already thinking about what to make.

Saturday rolled around and you were less nervous about this date then the one before and you had to admit to yourself that you were actually starting to fall in love with the mustached Naval Aviator. He has been the perfect gentleman to you and he considers your feelings when it comes to things. Throughout the week you two have been texting nonstop and some late-night phone calls were thrown in there as well and each time he had you blushing like mad and feeling things that no other man has made you feel. Throughout the week you were thinking of what you should bring on this picnic in the back of his prized Bronco. As the two of you talked and what seemed like 100 questions were asked you had some idea what to pack and a lot of it was your favorite foods. 

As the days rolled on and it was getting closer to Saturday you were beginning to feel nervous and maybe second guessing everything but as you talked with him more and more all of those feelings went away. When Saturday rolled around and he was knocking on your door and you answered it the nerves seemed to have gone away fully especially when you saw him standing there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and your favorite chocolates that you had gone on about and how hard they both were to find. “Hi.” You said breathlessly and he smiled.

“Hi.” He replied back. “These are for you. I know you said they were both hard to find but when you have the right people and they owe you favors you can get them easily.” He rambled on and you just continued to smile and you leaned up and kissed him to get him to stop, sparks flew and you hoped they flew for him too.

“Thank you so much.” You said when you broke away. Then you realized that it was your first actual kiss that you both shared and he had this stunned look of love on his face and in his eyes. 

“You’re very welcome.” He said breathlessly.

“Let me put these up and the flowers in a vase and grab the basket then we can go.” You said and then turned around and walked into the kitchen and he followed and shut the door behind him. You both agreed that you would be the one to make the picnic basket since you knew more about food and how to cook. He did say he could cook but had no clue on what to include so you said that you would handle and boy was he glad you did. He watched you move effortlessly through the kitchen and grab a vase, fill it with water and then cut the flower’s stems and put them in. When you were done you turned to him “Alright, I’m ready to go. Do you care to grab the basket?” You asked and he smiled.

“I would love to do anything for you.” He said and you blushed and he smiled as he grabbed the basket and the both of you headed out of your house making sure to lock it and to his Bronco. He carefully put the basket in the back and opened the door for you and then got into the driver’s side and headed off to the secluded spot on the beach that he loved to go to when he needed to get away. 

“So where are we going?” You asked

“It's a secluded area of the beach that I go to when I need to get away. It’s so peaceful and the sunset is breathtaking.” He said and you smiled already knowing that you’re going to love it. As he drove, music played softly and you both were getting to know each other more. 10 minutes later he was pulling into the spot and then he turned around and backed the Bronco up so you both could sit on the tailgate or in the back like you both planned on it. He helped you up into the back and you got comfortable and then he was falling right behind you. You opened the basket and the both of you got what you wanted out and the date started, well it started when he picked you up but it really started when the sun began to set. You snuggled into him and he embraced it. The date went smoothly and you both were having a great time. The waves crashing against the rocks, the warm sea breeze that was slightly misting, and the music he had softly in the background was making it perfect. You could get used to this.

“This is perfect.” You said and he smiled.

“You’re perfect.” He said looking down at you and looked up at him. The sunset was casting a beautiful glow across his skin and it made him that more irresistible. You don’t know how long you stared at each other but you both were slowly leaning into each other until your lips were touching and once again sparks flew. You two only broke apart when air was needed and then you were turning to look out at the sun setting behind the ocean. The date lasted until the food and drinks ran out and the sun fully set. A lot of laughter filled the night and a lot of talking did as well. All too soon you both were cleaning up and getting back in the front and then he was driving you home. 

“I had an amazing night tonight.” You said as he pulled into your driveway and he parked. He turned to you and smiled.

“I had an amazing night too. Hopefully we can continue this.” Bradley said and you smiled and nodded.

“I would love that.” You said and you both were getting out of the Bronco and he grabbed the basket and headed to the house. When you got there you unlocked the front door and turned to him and he leaned down and kissed you and of course you kissed back. His mustache tickled you but it wasn’t uncomfortable when you broke apart. “Good night, Bradley.” You said and he smiled as you took the basket from him.

“Good night, Y/N.” He said and you smiled and turned to open the door and walked in and closed it. He waited until you were in and the door was locked before walking to his Bronco. He got in as his phone dinged. 

Had a great time tonight. Can’t wait to do it again.

Bradley Bradshaw: Name the place and time. 

Yup he was truly a keeper. You couldn’t wait for more dates and adventures with him.

1 month later (4 weeks)

You and Bradley had been dating for a month now and that time had been amazing and he was amazing. You and he had been non-stop talking and you both had been on multiple dates. You both had spent nights with each other but it only consisted of cuddles. Tonight, you both were at his place for date night, he brought up in a simple text one Friday afternoon. He offered to cook you your favorite meal which happened to be steak fettuccine alfredo with garlic bread, it turned out to be his favorite since childhood. You had agreed for you to be over at his place at 6 PM right as soon as you got off from work for the weekend.

6 PM on the dot and you were knocking on the door of his apartment and he was opening the door and the smell of food hit you and your stomach growled. “Someone sounds hungry.” He joked and you grinned bashfully.

“Starving. I didn’t get time to eat lunch today.” You admitted

“Baby, you can’t be doing that yourself.” He said as he started to usher you in and taking your jacket off and taking your purse and putting them away. 

“I didn’t mean to, it just happened. We just got really busy.” You said as he made you sit down on a chair that he pulled out for you.

“Well, it is a good thing that food is ready.” He said as he plated up a plate for you and put garlic bread on the side for you. He brought it over to you and set it down in front of you and then went to the fridge and got your favorite wine cooler and opened it for you and set it down in front of you. The smell of the food hit your nose and your stomach growled once again.

“This smells delicious.” You said as he sat down with his food and choice of drink.

“Eat up. Can’t let my Baby starve to death.” He said and your stomach filled with butterflies as you took your first fork full of the delicious food. He watched you as you took a bite and your eyes closed. You practically moaned at the taste and smiled and took a bite. “How is it?” He asked after he swallowed.

“Delicious.” You said and as you opened your eyes to look at him “You can cook this anytime.” You said and he smiled.

“I plan on it. It’s actually my mom’s recipe and she said it was one of my dad’s favorites.” He said and you smiled at him. You and he had talked about Carole and Goose and from the stories you could tell that they loved each other and they were good people. You had lost your parents at an early age and were raised by your uncle. As the both of you ate supper you both talked about anything that came to your mind and after several plates and your stomachs were full you both moved to the couch leaving the dishes for later. Dessert would be had later both of you being too full of the delicious meal he had cooked up. Work had worn you out that you were close to falling asleep, he had put on the show you both were currently watching together. He had turned you both to where you both were laying down on the couch. “Stay the night?” He asked and you turned to look up at him.

“You want me to?” You answered his question with a question.

“Only if you want to.” He said 

“I would love to.” You said he smiled and kissed you and you kissed back and then you turned to continue watching the show. It was harder and harder to keep your eyes open and you closed them. Bradley felt your body relax further and he cuddled you more. 

“I love you.” He whispered in your ear thinking that you were asleep but you weren’t. You turned in his arms and leaned up and kissed him and he kissed you back. Once air was needed you broke apart and looked at each other.

“I love you too.” You said smiling and he smiled back. This was the first time you both said that you loved each other. You both just stared at each other and then you both were leaning in and kissing each other feverishly. You both sat up and then he picked you up and headed off to the bedroom he gently laid you down and climbed on top of you gently. He kissed you and then he started to your jaw and started to nip you gently and it brought an ache between your legs that needed attention. He kissed and nipped his way down to your neck where you turned your head to give him better access, his mustache tickled you but it wasn’t uncomfortable it just added fuel to the fire. You let out a low moan that you couldn't help and you felt him smirk on your heated skin that was just getting hotter by the second. Bradley came up and you turned your head and looked at him. His eyes held something in them almost like asking if he could continue and you nodded. He slowly took off your shirt and you helped him and now you were in your bra and pants. 

“Tell me if you want to stop.” He said 

“Keep going.” You said and he nodded and continued. He slowly undressed you until you were fully naked in front of him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said and you blushed as he ran his hands up and down your sides. You made a move to the bottom of his t-shirt and he got the hint and took it off and added it to the pile of your clothes. You couldn’t help but stare and look him up and down, the Navy sure did him good. “You like what you see?” He asked.

“I do but I want to see what you have under those pants.” You said somehow finding the boldness and you could tell he loved that because he started to shed his pants and then his underwear. His cock sprang up and slapped his rock-hard abs. You only became wetter looking at him, he had the full package and you couldn’t believe it was all yours. “Fuck I definitely like what I see.” You said and smirked and then he smirked.

“I like what I see too.” He said looking you up and down. He then suddenly attacked your lips and licked your bottom lip and you parted your lips and your tongues fought for dominance he caressed your body. He brought one hand to the one place you needed him; he ran his hand through your folds and you moaned into his mouth he kept going until he pushed two thick digits into you and a wonderful stretch was welcomed. Bradley fingered fucked you as you both French kissed each other. He was getting you close to coming and he could tell and then he was pulling out of you and he broke the kiss. You were about to say something but he slid into you in one swift motion. 

“Fuck that feels good.” You moaned as he fully bottomed out of you. You were no virgin but it had been awhile since you had sex and each time you were never left satisfied but Bradley was satisfying you and it was only the beginning. 

“Talk about feeling good? You’re gripping me like you were made for me.” He moaned and you looked up into his honey brown eyes that his pupils had pretty much taken over. “You ok if I start moving?” He asked.

“Fuck yes.” You said and smirked and started to thrust his hips into yours and it brought you to seeing stars. “Fuck, Baby. You’re so big. You’re perfect.” You moaned as your hands went to his shoulder blades and gripped, fingernails leaving indents in his skin. He continued to thrust in and out of you making you feel good and in turn you squeezed him and made him moan.

“Keep doing that and I won’t last long.” He said 

“Fucking shit. You’re hitting all the right spots.” You moaned “Go faster.” You said but it sounded more like a demand and he was willing to fill that demand. He started to thrust faster and you started to get closer to that orgasm that was rapidly building. Moans and pants from both of you were filling the room and sweat started to break out on both of your bodies. 

“Fuck, I’m close.” He moaned and that dam was about to break.

“Me too.” You moaned and then he was attacking your lips again and then was kissing and nipping at your jaw again. His mustache scratching you just added to the pleasure and you loved it. You could feel him start to get sloppy and knew he was getting closer. 

“Cum with me.” He said almost demanded as his hand came down to your clit and started to give it attention and in turn it was bringing you closer. It wasn’t long after he nipped your neck and tugged on your clit you were squeezing him and coming on his cock and then he was stilling inside of you and painting your walls white. You both started to come down from your high as he pulled out of you and fell to the side of you. Both of you were sweaty and panting but you both didn’t care as you laid beside each other fucked out in bliss. 

“I love you.” You said and looked over at him and he looked over at you.

“I love you too.” He said and you smiled and kissed him and he kissed you back. He turned down the covers and the two of you crawled under them. He brought you into his chest and cuddled you. You yawned and he chuckled. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.” He said and you nodded and slowly closed your eyes and snuggled your head into his chest and fell asleep and once he saw your breath even out and he knew you were truly asleep he allowed himself to fall asleep.  

You knew you had found the one and you had to thank a drunk asshole for that. If he hadn’t tried so hard to get you to go home with him then you wouldn’t have met your amazing boyfriend that had faked being your boyfriend at the beginning. You both loved each other and that is all that mattered. 

Tag list:

@kmc1989

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@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

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[ficsilike-reblogged]

Hungry For Heaven

Summary: Beau knows he shouldn’t have feelings for his young, pretty secretary. But he can’t help it. Pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 4.6k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is my second entry for the 80’s Rocktober Challenge hosted by @roosterforme - I picked Dio’s song “Hungry For Heaven.” I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, Cain is a creep for plot reasons, my gratuitous use of italics and song lyrics, a coyote ugly reference, female receiving oral sex, power imbalance

His girl. Cyclone’s girl. Simpson’s girl. The Admiral’s girl. That’s how most people referred to you when speaking with Beau. And he had never admitted how much he liked it, instead telling people to at least acknowledge your rank. But in the dark of his rooms, in the recesses of his mind, Beau liked it. He liked that you were his. 

Sort of.

Beau knew it was cliche. Falling for his young, pretty secretary was probably the most cliche thing that he could have ever done. But it hadn’t been a choice, really. You had appeared one day, three years ago, like a whirlwind and Beau had been left in your wake. You kept a tight ship, just as he did. You had been a perfect match for him, keeping him organized and on time for all his meetings and classes. You had made the mountains of paperwork he was always saddled with much easier to swallow and he had thought he was dreaming when you’d first handed over a thick stack of papers and told him he just needed to sign at the bottom of the last page. You’d basically done a week of reports for him and had left Beau with a pen in his hand and a tight stomach as you sauntered back out of his office. But that was what you did, he learned. You made his life easier. Gave him time to breathe. You were his girl. 

It was more than a little embarrassing to realize his…affection for you was noticed by anyone. Thankfully, the only person he knew for a fact suspected anything was Admiral Bates, who had quietly told him that it was about time he was happy. Embarrassing. It was a kindness, true, but Beau would have preferred if he hadn’t said anything at all. These feelings were inappropriate and completely against Naval regulation and protocol and he couldn’t stop.

“You’re not staying much later, are you?” 

Beau looked up from his computer, reading yet another request from Maverick about his insane dog fight simulations he wanted the newest Top Gun class to try, to see you in the doorway of his office. The usual, soft smile was on your face—the smile he liked to think you reserved just for him. His mouth curled up at the edges too; he couldn’t help it. “Just trying to rein in Maverick.” 

You scoffed and shook your head but your smile remained. “You’re going to be here all night, then. Again.” 

Beau had to hide his laugh behind his hand. You knew him too well. “I won’t.” 

You hummed, obviously not believing him. “I’ll order you dinner. Do you want Chinese or Italian? You had barbecue two nights ago.” 

His heart twisted, like it usually did whenever you so easily showed how well you knew him. “Italian, if you could, Lieutenant. With-”

“With extra breadsticks, I know. I’ll make sure they don’t forget again.” 

You were gone from the doorway before he could thank you but you returned not thirty minutes later with his promised dinner and another smile. A cursory glance let him know that the extra breadsticks were indeed included this time and you set a silverware roll from the mess hall beside the bag. 

“You’re too good to me, Lieutenant.” Beau winced as soon as the words left his mouth but you simply smiled. “And I thought you were on your way out for the weekend?” 

Your smile widened. “I am. But I wasn’t about to leave you hungry.” 

Beau’s entire chest ached and he tried to smile again but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Big plans?” 

“My friend’s bachelorette party. We are going bar hopping after getting pole dance lessons.” You paused before a grimace crumpled your features. “You didn’t need to know that. I apologize. That was unprofessional.” 

Beau felt his throat bob, mouth suddenly dry. Seeing you in your khakis or in any of the other Naval uniforms had been all Beau had been given, aside from when you needed to grab something from your office over the weekend a few months ago and he got to see you in a sinful pair of shorts and low cut top. But imagining you in one of those tight, tiny dresses he knew women your age wore and learning how to dance like that had his stomach in knots. 

He was being unprofessional. He was supposed to be the one who approved or rejected paperwork for relationships like this. He wasn’t supposed to be wanting one. And he wasn’t even sure if you saw him as anything other than the old man who needed help keeping his meetings and paperwork in a row. 

Sure, you joked with him, nursed a glass of expensive bourbon with him after the Uranium Mission, and Beau liked to think he caught you appreciating the view when he partook in the swim call during your last shared deployment and you handed him a towel to dry off…but that did not mean anything in the grand scheme of things. 

He knew that. 

But he couldn’t get you out of his head. 

“I hope you have a good time. You’ve certainly earned it. I know I run you ragged here.” 

The hard line of your shoulders lessened and your smile returned as you shook your head. Your hand settled over his and you gently squeezed his fingers, touch not retreating immediately and Beau tried not to revel in it too much. “I love working for you. You have to know that by now.” Beau watched your mouth open again before you bit your lip. 

Beau could imagine a million different things you could have said after that. But you didn’t say any of them. You didn’t say anything at all aside from a soft, “anyway, have a good night, Admiral. Please don’t stay too late.”

And then you were gone, leaving Beau alone with the scent of your floral perfume, the echo of your warm hand on his, and an ache in his chest. 

It was fine. 

This was fine. 

He ate his dinner as he tried to find the least insane simulation Maverick had requested and hoped that it would end well next week. Honestly, having the Captain as the permanent Top Gun instructor was bad for his heart.

“Are you coming?”

Beau looked up from his paperwork to see Admiral Cain in his doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Oh, that was right. Cain had been invited to see the current Top Gun class in action. The higher ups thought it would be a way to “soften” Cain’s animosity toward manned aircrafts. It was ridiculous because Beau outranked Cain and he still walked around like his shit didn’t stink.

Mostly what it did was raise Beau’s blood pressure and had you running circles around base trying to keep Cain out of Beau’s office. It was a valiant effort, Beau knew, but Cain hardly ever followed any recommendation from someone who he deemed ‘beneath him.’ 

He glanced down at the calendar on his desk and saw your neat handwriting over today’s date. Drinks with Cain? :( 

Dammit.

“Yeah, let me just clean up and-”

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes.” And then he was gone, too. 

Biting back every swear he’d ever learned, Beau stood and cleared his desk of his dinner’s trash and filed everything away to deal with on Monday. He pulled on a different shirt and slacks he kept in his office’s closet for times like this and tried not to seem too unenthusiastic when he met Cain out in the parking lot. The effort was completely negated when the other man started bragging about the bar he wanted to try, touting that it was apparently popular with younger women who preferred older men. 

And while Beau did think of you for a moment, his stomach still rolled with the thought that Cain was on the prowl for someone younger when Beau knew that he had a wife and kids waiting at home for him. But still, he went, knowing the higher ups would frown at him not wanting to “play nice.” 

(Beau pocketed the thought that he could have Cain dishonorably discharged if he actually did something.) 

The drive to the bar was thankfully short and Beau had repeatedly told himself that it would be fine to leave after one overpriced drink before parking. He could hear the classic rock pouring from the stout brick building and he could still hear the waves crashing against the shore as he stepped up toward the front door. The bouncer at the front waved him in and Beau saw Cain already striding up toward the bar, turning his head to watch as a woman, carrying a tray of shots to a different table, walked by. 

Cain settled at the bar and Beau begrudgingly stood near him and waited for one of the three bartenders to take their order. When they were noticed, Cain was more than a little shameless with staring down the bartender’s shirt when she came to their corner of the bar top so Beau made a mental note to give her an extra tip with his drink as a silent apology. 

“What can I get started for you?” She asked, turning to Beau with a roll of her eyes. She’d apparently already had a long night. 

“Cognac, please.” 

The bartender quirked an eyebrow but almost smiled. “You seem like a top shelf kind of guy. Am I right?” 

Beau nodded and watched her grab a bottle of cognac he also had in his personal bar back home (where he’d rather be, but that was beside the point) and poured a few fingers of it into a glass before setting it atop a monogrammed napkin and pushing it in front of him. He handed over his card without a fuss and she seemed grateful when he didn’t ask to open a tab. 

Beau vacated his spot at the bar after leaving his promised tip and it was quickly taken by a woman who had to be about your age with a sash across her chest that read “Made of DisHonor” in bold, pink lettering. It was funny—there must be a bachelorette party here somewhere. 

Again, he thought of you—you had said your friend’s bachelorette party was tonight. 

As Beau settled into an overstuffed booth near one of the stained glass windows, he saw Cain still at the bar, now turned around to lean against it as he sipped on his martini. His gaze was bouncing from one woman to the next while completely ignoring the other men who would have probably preferred his spot at the bar to order. But it hardly mattered, really. Beau would have been content with finishing his drink by himself and not interacting with Cain at all. But Cain did eventually did spot him and Beau raised his glass in half hearted welcome but hoped that it would not be taken. 

Cain didn’t pick up on the abject disinterest on Beau’s face and started to make his way over. Dammit. However, he made it only a half dozen steps before getting pulled to a stop by a woman in a tight dress and a bright smile. 

Damn. All right. Apparently the reputation this bar had was not completely unfounded. 

Beau was quick to drag his gaze away from the uncomfortable scene and spotted the girl with the sash walking away from the bar with a tray of what looked like Jell-O shots in her hands. Beau watched her go with a smile, remembering his days back in college when his tongue was blue from drinks like those. She quickly passed out the small plastic cups and the grip Beau had on his cognac nearly slipped when he recognized one of the women in her group. 

You. 

God. You had always been beautiful but right now you were truly something else. Sinful and ethereal all at once. Stunning. Short dress. High heels. Burgundy lips. You were dressed for the festivities. Your sash read “Miss Behaving.” 

Of course it did. 

The bride, a cute woman in a tiny white dress with a giant white bow on the back of her head, herded everyone a little bit out of the throughway so a small group of men could get to the bar without needing to walk around. And you ended up closer to him. He could hear your laugh over the music as your friend pushed one of the Jell-O shots into your hand. 

“I’m driving tonight! I can only have one drink.” 

The woman with the Made of Dishonor sash pouted but still made sure your fingers were curled around the tiny plastic cup. “You said that at the last two bars, too. That’s why I got you a non-alcoholic Jell-O shot. Congrats. That is pure sugar and water, babe.” 

You laughed and Beau found himself smiling at the sound of it; he liked hearing you be happy. And he should have known that you would be the designated driver for your friends—you were always taking care of someone. (Usually it was him.) 

He watched you and your friends take the caps off the shots and clink them together with a shout of cheers for the bride as he took another sip of his own drink. It nearly came right back out as he coughed, watching your tongue skirt around the plastic. 

“There we go!” The bride cheered before patting your cheek with uncoordinated fingers but you laughed anyway. “I want you to have fun. Have fun with me.” 

“I am having fun! I promise,” you said before catching her hand and kissing her fingers, earning a giggle of your own. “And tonight isn’t about me!”

“I picked this bar for you!” The maid of honor said with a laugh of her own. “I was hoping I would be able to get your mind off that man who shall not be named.” “No, you chose it because they let you dance on the bar.” “That’s besides the point,” she retorted, finger pointed in your direction. “Two birds, one stone or whatever.” 

“What?” The bride asked, dragging out the single syllable. 

The maid of honor shook her head. “Babe, it has been over a year and you’re still hung up on him. You either need to get under him or get over him.” 

You swirled your finger around the empty, plastic container, pretending to care about the remnants of your Jell-O shot. “I can’t help it.” 

“What’s so special about him?” Another woman asked, stealing a second shot. “A year’s a long time.” 

“Oh no,” one of your friends groaned. “Don’t get her started.”

The bride pouted again. “But I wanna hear it. I don’t hear anything anymore! I don’t even know who we’re talking about!” 

“I’ve told you about him twice but that just…doesn’t matter,” you said, probably noting how intoxicated she was at the moment. “You’re busy with wedding planning, sweetheart. We don’t want to bother you.” 

She waved it away, pout persisting. “Tell me. Tell me right now! I’m your best…” she hiccuped. “Best friend. Tell me.” 

You licked your lips before sighing. “He’s…my boss.” 

There was an answering squeal from the bride and a few others in your group before you waved it away with a halfhearted scowl, like you were trying to keep the smile from your face. 

The grip on his drink was near painful now. 

You were talking about him. You had been hung up on him for over a year. 

“He’s just handsome and kind and funny. He’s nice when he wants to be and he’s always nice to me.” 

“But not to everyone else, right?” The maid of honor said, sounding like she’d heard this before. 

Beau adjusted his posture to try to hear your group better over the blaring guitars and thumping drums. He wanted to know what you had been saying—apparently repeatedly. 

“Yeah. I mean, he runs a tight ship-”

“That is a terrible pun.” 

“-but he tries to keep everyone safe and he just expects everyone else to do the same. So-”

“You’re burying the lede here. He’s smoking hot. A complete silver fox who’s got a banging bod.” 

You gaped at the Maid of Honor’s outburst and Beau watched your mouth open and close a few more times without a single word coming out. Is that what you had told your friends?

“And he’s sweet to you?” The bride repeated, hazy eyes sparkling. “You hafta marry him.” 

“They’re a sight for sore eyes. Good choice.” 

Beau felt something in his neck pop when he quickly turned his head to see Cain settling opposite him in the booth. The other man’s eyes were dragging all over your group without a care in the world. Dragging all over you. “Did you strike out?” The words were out of his mouth before he could even begin to think of a different response. “I saw you talking to someone else.” It was a pitiful recovery but Beau hid his distaste for the entire situation behind another gulp of his liquor. 

Cain’s mouth curled into a scowl for a moment. “You’ve been sitting here alone all night. You’re not doing any better.” A familiar sneer pushed at his features before he once again looked at your group. “Are you one of those that just likes to look?” 

Thankfully or not, Cain didn’t wait for an answer and stood again, making his way over to your group. Just for a moment, Beau thought about just leaving. Just getting up and leaving and pretending this entire night never happened. 

“A-Admiral Cain.” 

Your voice cut through Beau’s thoughts with ease. 

“I…I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

Cain squinted at you, probably trying to place your face and Beau saw the exact moment Cain recognized you, a smirk pushing at his mouth. A few of your friends started whispering into each other’s ears, probably wondering if this was the Admiral you were hung up on. “Ah, Lieutenant, I should have known it was you.” 

“Oh?” 

Cain’s smirk grew. “Yes ma’am. I think I’d recognize that-”

Beau had heard quite enough and stood abruptly, cognac still in his hand. “I think we’ve had enough tonight, Admiral. Time to head out.” 

The shock on your face only grew more apparent as you looked at him. “Admiral Simpson. Um…h-hi.” 

“That’s him,” the maid of honor hissed into the bride’s ear. 

Cain’s eyes were hard as they bored into the side of Beau’s face. He could feel them. But he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were even more beautiful up close. Dammit. Again.

“Why don’t we let the ladies decide if I’ve had enough?”

Your eyes went wide and you took a step in front of your friends, hands fanning out to keep them behind you. “I apologize, sir, but I don’t think that is entirely appropriate.” 

“It could be our little secret and shouldn’t I be the one who says whether or not something is inappropriate? I’m sure we can all keep a secret.” 

Something Beau had spent years trying to suppress started to bite at the back of his mind. Cold rage. He moved to step in front of Cain, blocking you from the other man’s gaze. “We’re done here, Cain.” 

The tense line of his shoulders relaxed when he felt your warm hand press against his back. A quiet thank you. And the simple touch had warmth bleeding over him. 

“We are just about to leave-”

“Bride and babes!” The bartender who had served Beau hollered. “You’re up!” 

The maid of honor let out a curse and muttered something about never planning anything ever again before pushing everyone toward the bar again. And then Cain was saying something, Beau could hear the rumble of his voice at the back of his mind like a buzzing fly, but Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you. 

You as you tugged down your skirt after it had ridden up when you climbed. 

You as you helped the bride step onto one of the barstools. 

You as you followed suit until you and the rest of your friends were lined up on the bar. 

“Ladies and gents,” the bartender’s voice cut through the din of the bar just before the last song ended. “We have a special group here tonight. And they want to put on a little show for you all.” 

The crowd gave a raucous cheer and then the opening chords of a song he knew well swelled over the bar’s speakers. And then you (and your friends) started to dance. It was filled with spins and giggles followed by twists and turns that had your legs nearly glowing in the low light of the bar as Dio continued to sing. 

You're in danger, the last of a line

But the vision lasts forever…

The watching crowd hollered when you and the maid of honor showed off the moves you must have learned at your pole dancing lessons on either side of the bride. Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you. Wouldn’t. 

“I see it now.” Cain’s voice pulled his attention for just a moment. “You want her all to yourself.” 

He didn’t deign it worthy of a response. And honestly, what could he say? Denying it would be fruitless and accepting it would be handing over power to Cain. So, Beau said nothing. 

The young just getting older

We are sunlight

We can sparkle and shine

And our dreams are what we're made of… He just watched you. 

He dragged his eyes up your form and saw you looking straight at him. 

Just hold on You can make it happen for you Reach for the stars and you will fly You're hungry for heaven Hungry for heaven Hungry for heaven But you need a little hell, oh, hungry…

And, just for a moment, Beau felt like you were doing this all for him. This entire show was for him. That little dress and the way you inched it up your thighs as you moved was for him. The burgundy-tinged smile was just for him. The way your half-lidded gaze never strayed far from him in the crowd was for him. And maybe it was. Maybe it was all for him because as soon as the song ended and you helped your giggling friends off the bar—taking extra care to help the bride down as she poked at the tip of your nose—you turned to him. While your friends were swarmed by other patrons of the bar who had appreciated the show, you only looked at him. And then you were moving, pushing your way through the accumulated crowd and toward him. You licked your lips just before you slowed to a stop in front of him and Beau tracked the movement with his heart hammering in his throat. “Did you enjoy the show?” And what was he supposed to say to that? He had the wherewithal to notice Cain had retreated to a darkened corner with another drink and a different woman, his attention completely diverted. Beau paused for a moment before nodding. What good would lying do now? Something had shifted, irreparably changed. For better or worse. 

He could smell your perfume again as you moved closer, closer, closer. God, you were beautiful. And a voice that sounded almost like himself was screaming at the back of his mind that this was wrong, this was against all sorts of Naval regulations, that this would only end poorly- But it quieted as soon as your fingers pressed against his chest. He could feel each of your breaths against his mouth. He could smell your floral perfume with each of his own inhales and wanted to bury his nose in it. In you. But what Beau happily noticed was the lack of alcohol that hit his nose. You were sober. 

He knew adrenaline could make people do things that were out of character. Plenty of pilots, himself included, had landed their jet and jumped out, heart hammering and nerves buzzing. Maybe it was that for you, high off the little performance. Confident enough to approach your direct superior in a crowd. You sought him out. There was a silent conversation between you; were you going to do this? Could either of you stop? And Beau surged forward with his inevitable answer, closing the gap.

You tasted like heaven. Sticky sweet with a bite of something else and your hand gently curled over his chest as you sighed against his mouth. Your fingers inched up to press at the side of his neck as he licked between your lips. 

Every sigh, every little noise, every brush of your mouth against his had his heart racing. This was what he needed, what every part of him had wanted since you had first spent the night at his side, helping him do monotonous paperwork. Just you, in his arms, and your taste on his tongue. 

He didn’t even recall pulling you toward the small hallway that led to the bathrooms but he felt your smile against his mouth when he backed you against the wall. Your next breath puffed against his wet lips and your eyes still sparkled in the hallway’s shitty light. “We might have fifteen minutes before someone comes looking.” “I can do a lot in fifteen minutes.” 

The bathroom door creaked when he pulled you through it and the lock gave an answering click when he engaged it. You were soft everywhere and Beau groaned against your mouth as his hands skirted up your thighs, dragging the minuscule skirt of your dress with it. And you were sweet everywhere, too, as he tugged the tiny scrap of lace between your thighs to the side and drank you down. Your hands curled into his hair as he pulled one of your legs up and over his shoulder. He kept you upright as each flick of his tongue had you shaking and whimpering and filling his mouth. 

He could do this forever, even if his knees ached and his trousers were unbearably tight. 

Just as you shook in his grip and he felt you sliding down his chin, there was a sharp knock at the door. 

“We’re leaving! I’m giving you exactly thirty seconds to meet us outside.” 

Beau recognized the maid of honor’s voice on the other side. It was quickly followed by a chorus of giggles. But he hardly heard any of it as you sighed and curled your hands beneath Beau’s chin and pulled him up with a gentle tug. You kissed him, undoubtedly tasting yourself on his tongue, as your thumb swept gentle circles against his cheek. 

Your eyes were hazy and half-lidded again and you stole another kiss against his mouth when he pulled your dress back down. 

“You can definitely do a lot in fifteen minutes, Admiral.” Your finger swept beneath his lip, gathering the evidence of your secret and you licked it away. “I’ll return the favor. I promise.” 

Before you slipped away from him again, Beau kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough of it, of you. Nor the soft laugh you let out as you whispered you’d see him on Monday. 

Monday was going to be interesting. He didn’t know what it would bring, how any of this would turn out, but he had hope. And he liked to think you did, too. 

Beau couldn’t wait. 

A/N: please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[mamsieur]

Don't mess with the Storm | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary : Sometimes, Cyclone could live up to his call sign. Especially when it concerned you, his youngest daughter, his little Storm.

TW : slight violence, mention of alcohol, family/domestic fluff

Length : 6753 words

AN : You can't make me believe that Beau Simpson isn't a family man with lots of kids. That's what he radiates.

posted on AO3 August 21, 2023

Your mom always said you took after your dad, but if he was a Cyclone, you were a Storm ; smaller and less destructive. Storm has always been your nickname. 

It described you quite well as much in your way of doing things than in your personality. You were passionate about everything you did and you often left a mess after you.

Being a Vice Admiral, Beau managed to control himself for his work but when it came to you and your well being, he could literally destroy everything on his way. Not that your father was in any way abusive or violent, but he sometimes could over react.

You were your parents’ precious little baby.

You were the youngest of four children; you had three older brothers, all in the military. Two of them, Nathan and Jamie, were naval aviators, like your father, and one, Aaron, was a Marine Officer. 

Needless to say, you were well taken care of ; you liked to think that you had a small ‘army’ for yourself.

But as much as they thought of you as their little princess, they never treated you like one, and you never wanted to be. You were tough and very capable of defending yourself. Your father always encouraged you in whatever you wanted to do. 

You wanted to join the soccer team? Let's go. Switch to boxing lessons? Done. A new passion for karting? He had your back. An interest in mechanics ? He bought you your first tool box.

As long as you put your heart and soul into whatever you did, your family would support you.

So when you told them you wanted to work for the Navy after your engineering degree, they were as supportive as they could be.

You were a genius engineer - your mom’s word, not yours - and you loved working on jets, inspecting them, gathering as much data as possible to make them as efficient as they can be. Working at Top Gun was heaven. Since the pilots were supposed to be the best, you loved pushing them and their machines to be better and better.

Of course, the fact that you were working on the same base as your father had raised some eyebrows. But neither of you cared, and he got you no special treatment.

After the uranium mission, you were assigned to check the status of the Dagger Squad's F-18s. Everything seemed to be in good shape, and while your computer analyzed the flight data, you inspected the engines. You liked to work alone when you could, it helped you stay in your bubble of concentration.

The sun was slowly setting as you finished diagnosing the last jet. Being alone in the hangar, you took the opportunity to put on some music. You hummed and swayed a little while you waited for the analysis to finish on your screen and inspected the engine.

Your head was - quite literally - in it when you heard footsteps behind you. They stopped a few feet away from you to let you finish what you were doing.

"I'll just be two minutes," you muttered and then shrugged, getting no response. You finished inspecting the seemingly defective part and stood up. Your face was covered in dust and motor oil, and your hair was starting to fall out of your ponytail.

You sighed and turned to your mysterious guest.

"Oh! Good evening Lieutenant Bradshaw. May I help you?" you smiled a little and wiped your forehead with the back of your hand.

"Good evening Second Lieutenant Simpson, to tell you the truth, yes, you may..." he grinned charmingly, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the plane, "I was wondering if you'd forgotten our date? It's 7:20, and we agreed to meet at 6:30 ?” 

You stopped smiling and looked at the clock. Crap! You hadn't seen the time.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I was servicing the jets and didn't realize what time it was! I should have set an alarm, I'm sorry. Jesus, how could I be so stupid?"

You were starting to mumble excuses as you gathered your things when you felt his hand on your wrist.

"It's okay, I know how you get when you're focused on something. We’ll find another day for that. I'll wait for you at the bar, okay?" he reassured you with a grin.

"Uh yeah, yeah okay! I'll be quick!" you nodded and smiled back at him. He tucked a strand of your wild hair behind your ear, a few inches from you, making you blush slightly. His thumb stroked your cheek. He had that cheeky smile he always had when something was on his mind. He took your hand and kissed your knuckles, his beautiful brown eyes never leaving yours.

" Or , I can also wait for you in the changing-"

" Lieutenant Bradshaw, Second Lieutenant Simpson, what are you two still doing here? "

Your father's stern voice echoed through the hangar, taking you by surprise. Bradley took a quick step back and straightened his posture to greet him.

"I, uh-"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw forgot his keys, sir, he was out. I got carried away with the diagnostics, I'm almost finished here," you replied quickly as Cyclone’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Bradley then at you.

"Hm. You better hurry then, Second Lieutenant, overtime is not allowed. You're free to go Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Yes sir!" you said in unison and Bradley left as quickly as he could, flashing one last smile in your direction before disappearing down the corridors.

As you started to clean up the mess you'd made, you heard an amused sigh.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. You're still living up to your nickname."

"Ha ha, very funny Dad," you rolled your eyes and closed your toolbox, "Don't wait for me, I'm going out tonight."

"Mmh. Is Bradshaw involved?" he asked as he helped you carry your stuff to the storage room.

"Yes? I mean the whole Dagger team is, I need to get to know them to understand how they work."

That was only half a lie. You knew they most likely were all at the Hard Deck, you'd met them there a few times. You got along well with them, especially Natasha, Bob and Mickey. And of course, Bradley... But it was different with him.

You'd known him for years and your very first assignment had been with him. Your friendship had evolved over the years into a kind of friends-with-benefits/fuck-buddies relationship until a few weeks ago. Since the uranium mission, he wanted more than that, and so did you. You two tried to keep your relationship secret because you suspected it could jeopardize either of your careers, and mostly because you knew your father would not approve.

He always thought the guys you dated were not good enough for you. And as annoying as it was, he was always right. He scared away some of them and when you thought back about it, it's a good thing he did.

Truth be told, you have been in love with Bradley for so long that sometimes it hurted. 

You had tried to tell him so many times in the past, but you were afraid of losing what little intimacy you had with him. So when he asked you out, first thing after the uranium mission, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. The hope that your feelings would be reciprocated had invaded your heart and mind, and you felt like it was the first time you were in love. It wasn’t of course, but you were all giddy about it.

You didn’t like to lie to your dad, he knew you too much to know everything in just one look. 

But it was worth it, wasn’t it ?

You hoped it was.

After a well-deserved shower, you changed into clean, comfortable clothes that actually suited you. You put on your helmet and rode to the bar with your motorbike. Your mother hated when you used that ‘death machine’ and your father wasn't really fond of it either. It reminded him of Maverick. He wasn’t fond of Maverick. It always made you laugh watching your dad trying to remain calm in front of the Captain. You’ve never seen a man getting on his nerves that much.

The Hard Deck was already busy when you parked ; a totally normal Friday night , you thought. Looking around, you spotted Natasha’s, Javy’s and Bradley’s cars.

Penny nodded at you with a smile as you entered. The Daggers were in their usual places and Bradley seemed to be winning the pool game against Jake. In a desperate attempt to break his concentration, Jake chuckled, "Your girlfriend's here, Bradshaw”.

The whole team had discovered your relationship, of course, but swore to keep it a secret. You were grateful to them, but Jake being himself, he couldn't resist taking a dig at you. 

You rolled your eyes and took a seat next to Bob, watching the two eternal rivals finish their game. You caught up with Mickey and theorized with him on the last episodes of Kenobi then made your way towards Penny at the bar to buy your round of beers. As you waited for your drinks at the counter, you felt two hands around your waist.

"You're late, Second Lieutenant ."

"Had to fix your teammates’ jets, Lieutenant , tell them to be more careful," you grinned, leaning your back against your boyfriend's torso. You heard him chuckle softly as he whispered that you were an ‘idiot' and kissed the top of your head.

"Sorry about our date, I'll make it up to you."

"You bet your sweet ass you will," Bradley snickered at the squeal you let out as he spanked you a little, “But right now, you owe me a dance to celebrate my victory against Hangman.”

He took your hand as you rolled your eyes but followed him. Your whole body pressed against his, arms around his neck, the room faded away. All you could feel and see was him; one of his hands on the small of your back, the other on your hip, guiding you. The warmth of his body was like a spell that kept you close, not wanting to let go.His hands roamed down your back making you shiver. It felt like you belonged there.

You couldn’t let go of his eyes, hypnotized. He had such beautiful eyes ; those hazel brown orbs were magnetic, so infuriatingly charming. 

One of your hands gently stroked his scarred cheek and he leaned into your touch, smiling like an idiot and humming the song you were slow dancing to. His smile always sent butterflies to your stomach and heat to your cheeks. It was almost annoying how easily you fell for his charms.

The two of you danced until the song ended and you pulled him by the collar to kiss him. You felt his hands slip into the back pockets of your jeans, shamelessly squeezing your ass, and his proud grin against your lips. You bit his as you pulled away from the kiss.

"Okay, lovebirds , get a room," Jake complained and you flipped him off, still in Bradley's arms.

"Don't be jealous Jakey, your time will come," you teased, making your partner chuckle.

"She's right Seresin, just wait till you're a big boy."

The evening continued quietly, with one beer after another, a few games of darts and pool, and a few songs on the piano for Bradley. 

You watched him from the bar, mesmerized, an affectionate smile on your face. You still wondered how you'd managed to get his attention; this man could have anyone he wanted with his smile combined with a little song, the sweetness with which he spoke, his sarcasms, his eyes so soft and intense at the same time, his stupid, stupid, cocky grin... God, you were definitely and undoubtedly under his spell, mind and heart.

Your eyes never left his form for more than five seconds. You looked at him as if you wanted to learn every aspect of his physique; but to be honest, you already knew him by heart. 

You could locate every beauty mark, every scar - and tell its story - and where his birthmark was. You could describe every shade of brown in his eyes, depending on the light or his emotions. You knew every expression on his face; when he was angry, frustrated, sad, or playful. You knew exactly where and how to touch him to make him putty in your hands, every positively sensitive area and those to avoid.

And yet, every time you looked at him, behind the piano, laughing with his friends, you discovered a new detail that made you love him even more.

The way he cared for all of them - even Jake, his "archenemy" - and knew just what to do to make them feel better and laugh. How he always listened to what they had to share, good or bad, and offered to help. How he'd always protect them as if they were his siblings, his rather hazardous family.

Speaking of hazardous family, it always made you laugh how Bradley could be so like Pete and like your dad. It was sometimes a mixture of arrogance and calm, defiance and seriousness. Part of you was sure that if they tried, your dad and Bradley would get along. But were they willing to ?

As you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice a man, a little younger than you, sitting next to your stool. He started talking, trying to flirt, but you didn’t really pay attention, still absorbed by your boyfriend’s silliness, until he clicked his fingers in front of your face.

“Hey, ‘m talking to you doll. You should really pay attention when someone is talking to you, got it ?”

You sipped your beer and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He continued his flirtatious attempts, bragging that he was one of the best in his class at Top Gun. He kept trying to get your attention by snapping his fingers or grabbing your arm. His breath was clearly too close to your face and stinked a mixture of beer and chips. 

It really started to annoy you, so it was your turn to snap your fingers in his face.

"I'm not interested,” you snapped your fingers again, “If a girl ignores you, it's because she doesn't want to talk to you, got it ?"

You got off your stool, ready to join the Daggers by the piano. But a hand gripped your wrist and the man pulled you close to him. You could see a hint of anger and annoyance in his eyes, but it didn’t scare you. You were used to guys like him, thinking they own every woman they see. 

“Listen doll, I was nice until now. Give me your number and I’ll forgive you,” he grinned, his buddies sneering behind him, as if they were proud of him. You couldn’t help but giggle at the scene. What kind of bad joke was that ?

In one swift motion, you released your wrist and pinned his arm behind his back. You bent him violently over the bar and locked him in that position, pressing down just enough to hurt and immobilize him. 

"One false move and I will dislocate your arm," you threatened in his ear as a few glances turned in your direction. "Now listen to me carefully. This is the last time you'll talk to me or any woman like that. Understood?"

He grunted and struggled a little. You pressed harder and repeated, "Understood?"

"Okay! Okay, I understand! Get off me!"

The man growled again and you finally let go. Penny gave you a look that you understood as a warning and you smiled innocently to her. The man and his group walked away with a grunt, giving you one last murderous look. You smiled broadly and made a mocking curtsy. 

Bradley raised an eyebrow as they passed him, muttering that you were a "crazy bitch". You joined him with two beers, one for him and one for you.

"What happened?"

"Nothing to worry about, just some big macho guy. He didn't like that I wasn't paying attention to him. I just put him in his place."

You shrugged with a smile and Bradley shook his head, laughing a little, knowing exactly what you meant. He put his arm around your waist and kissed your temple. 

"I know you can defend yourself, but don't get yourself in trouble, Stormy."

"Don't worry, if I get in trouble, my knight in shining armor will come and rescue me, won't he?" you teased. He chuckled but nodded before taking you on his lap at the piano. He started a new song that had the remaining customers singing and dancing.

***

The end of the evening was a bit hazy.

You'd had too much to drink to get back on your bike, so it was Bradley who drove you home. You pulled your boyfriend into your small house - he offered no resistance - and kissed him as if your life depended on it, as if that simple contact made your heart beat. His hands roamed your body with hunger, and yours tore his Hawaiian shirt from his back. You thought of nothing but Bradley, his soft lips devouring your jaw and neck, leaving a few marks where he passed, his hands so warm on your skin, his breath making you shiver. 

You wandered back to your room, kicking off your shoes, and your clothes ended up in a pile at the end of your bed. 

You loved doing it with Bradley. He gave you everything you wanted and so much more. You'd never been as fulfilled as you were with him. It was as if he knew everything about how your body worked, that it held no secrets for him. 

Your nightly activities have drained you both of what little energy you had left, and you fell asleep hugging each other, as if afraid the other will evaporate.

The next morning, it was not your massive headache that woke you, but the sound of several cars and children laughing outside your house. What day was it? Was it Saturday? It was Saturday!

You jumped to your feet as Bradley mumbled something unintelligible.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" You shook your boyfriend and wrapped yourself in a blanket as you heard the sound of a key turning in the front door lock.

"Bradley, get up!"

"Mmh, five minutes..." he mumbled, burying his face in the pillow. You heard the door open and small footsteps running toward your room. You panicked and shook him harder.

"We don't have five minutes! Get your ass up!" 

You grabbed the first thing you could get your hands on: panties and Bradley's tank top. You stumbled to your bedroom door to get out before one of your nephews’ innocent eyes discovered their aunt and a man they didn't know naked as worms in her bed. You tried to look as natural as possible as you quickly closed the door behind you. Standing in front of you was Jack, your three-year-old nephew. He was Nathan’s, your oldest brother, son. He laughed as he threw himself on your legs to give you a hug.

"Oh my God, hi sweetie! You're early!"

"Dada said we'd surprise you, Auntie! And Pop-Pop is here too!" the little boy laughed.

"What a nice thought!" you tried not to sound too ironic as you picked him up to give him a kiss and rearrange his wild blond hair. "Auntie needs to get dressed, okay? Go wait with your dad in the living room!"

You gave him one last kiss and made sure he ran to the living room before storming back to your bedroom. How could you forget that your brothers were visiting today? You were so screwed! A million thoughts went through your head and one thing made you snap out of it; Bradley yawning and taking his sweet time getting up. You grumbled and attacked him with a pillow.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"We're in deep shit Bradley! My whole family is here! They weren't supposed to be up this early!"

"What?" he blinked and narrowed his eyes, trying to process what you'd just told him. You started to rattle on about how your brothers got their permission for your mom's birthday, but your brothers were here super early with their wifes, their kids, and your mom and dad. Bradley had trouble following what you were saying because you were talking really fast. 

“Babe,” he tried to interrupt you, but you kept mumbling and pacing next to the bed, “Y/N, baby, calm down!” 

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to sit in front of him. His free hand cupped your cheek tenderly as he guided you into breathing to calm yourself down.

“Okay… mind explaining slower what is happening here ?”

You sighed and nodded before re-explaining the whole situation to him. “But they weren’t supposed to come here this early ! The surprise lunch for my mom was supposed to be at home, not in my flat ! And my dad is here. My dad ! What are we going to say ?”

You cursed again, rubbing your temples. Bradley took your hands in his to make you look at him and stole a kiss from you. You sighed against his lips, your tension going away slightly. He then pressed his forehead to yours, stroking your cheeks to soothe you.

“How about we get dressed and just… join them in the living room ?”

“You really want to face my dad ?” you raised one eyebrow, surprised but really relieved that he didn’t propose to just sneak out.

“Yeah ? I mean, the man already has doubts, you’ve said it yourself… and it’s your mother’s birthday, your whole army of men won’t be able to kill me. Not today at least.”

You chuckled at his joking tone and at the silly smile he has on his face. You pecked his lips with a grin. “Okay then Lieutenant , let’s get dressed.”

“Yes ma’am!” 

He gave you one last tender kiss, and when the two of you went to get up, a little giggle made you both freeze.

“Auntie who that ? And why he nakey ?”

Your nephew’s voice asked. He was standing by the door, a playful smile on his chubby face, and his little finger pointing at your embarrassed boyfriend. Bradley quickly covered himself more, lifting the sheet at his chin, and you ran to get little Jack in your arms.

“How did he get here ??” Bradley scream-whispered at you, hiding himself while trying to get dressed.

“I don’t know !” you scream-whispered back before turning your attention back to the toddler who was babbling in your arms, “Jack, honey, why aren’t you with your dad and pop-pop ?”

Before he could answer, your sister in law was by your bedroom, apologizing. She didn’t notice Bradley right away, but when she did, a small cheeky smile curled on her lip.

“Hi there, sorry to have him interrupted you two.”

“Annie, it’s not what it looks like-” you blushed when you understood what she implied but Bradley interrupted you by presenting himself and shaking her hand with a wide smile. They chat while you put on a pair of jeans, keeping on Bradley’s tank top. Never in your life had you been this embarrassed.

Little Jack looked at your boyfriend with wide-eyed wonder. He loved meeting new people, and Bradley seemed fascinating to his young eyes. It was no wonder when every time Annie spoke to you, Bradley would make faces at the little boy and make him giggle. 

Bradley already had him in his pocket, so that was a good thing. Annie seemed to like him too, at least you thought so from the mischievous looks she gave you. 

As you crossed the hallway to join the rest of your family, a wave of nervousness ran through you. You grabbed Bradley by the sleeve of his Hawaiian shirt and turned him toward you. You pulled him into a hug to relax and to give yourself courage.

"Promise you won't hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They'll probably try to impress you, my brothers I mean... and my dad... you know how he can be..."

"Oh honey... It takes more than that to scare me. I'll be fine."

He kissed your forehead and you walked into the living room.

You greeted everyone, your father not immediately aware of Bradley's presence. You introduced him to your brothers first, Nathan, Aaron and Jamie, and they didn't do anything strange at first; they were probably waiting for you to introduce him to your father to see what sauce to cook him in.

Beau and Vivian, your mother, were too busy admiring your niece, five-month-old Juliet, to notice Bradley's presence. She was fast asleep in the arms of Jamie's fiancée, Alice. She greeted you with a smile when you waved.

"Awake at last, Stormy?" your father asked before freezing and losing his smile at the sight of your boyfriend, " Lieutenant Bradshaw. ".

His cold, hard tone made you sigh a little as the two men shook hands in greeting. 

“Good morning Vice Admiral Simpson.” 

They were way too formal, it was ridiculous. Your mother had the same reaction as you and introduced herself to Bradley with a warm smile and a hug.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Simpson."

"Oh, please, just call me Viv!" she laughed a little, waving her hand. Then she turned to you, discreetly gave you both thumbs up and winked at you. 

Good. Bradley seemed to have charmed your mother with just a smile.

Still, you could feel your father tense up behind you as Bradley got to know everyone. He remained very polite and smiled, even letting Jack, Oliver and Tommy - Aaron's twin sons - pull him out to play in the little garden. Your father grabbed your arm. "Kitchen. Now. We need to talk." He seemed a little upset, and you could understand; you'd lied to him.

"Care to explain yourself?" He crossed his arms on his chest, a stern look on his face. 

You didn't like that look. He used to have it when he scolded you when you were a teenager, when you would sneak out of the house to go to a party or to meet up with your then-boyfriend. For a moment, you were 16 again, caught in the act.

You sighed at his insistent and questioning look.

"I uh... He’s... we’re... we've been seeing each other for… a few weeks..."

"A few weeks? So you've been lying to me for weeks?"

"I haven't lied! At least not completely..." you mumbled, biting your fingernail.

"Y/N. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Seriously Dad? You've made it pretty clear that you don't really like him, I mean outside of work."

"I never said that."

You widened your eyes, shocked at his bad faith. 

"Are you kidding me? You've made it clear that you don't want me around him because he's too much like Maverick! Every time I mentioned him, you made your… disapproving face. The same one you made every time I mentioned my old boyfriends, or when I wanted to get a motorcycle, or when the boys tried to bleach their hair in high school !"

"I don't have a disapproving face," he grumbled, "and it's not because he’s like Maverick that I don't want you around him, it's because he can be called back on a mission at any time. I don't want that to break your heart."

"Oh ! But it's okay for Nathan, Aaron, and Jamie to break the hearts of their partners? Of their children? It was okay for you to risk breaking Mom's heart and ours? What kind of cardboard argument is that, Dad?" You raised your arms in disbelief as you started to walk out of the kitchen, but you stopped and turned back to face him. "I know you want to protect me, but... you can't do that about things like that. I know you know better than anyone the risks of this job, the sacrifices it requires. But Bradley knows them as well, if not better, than you do. And as much as it scares me, as much as it scares us... we want to try… And even if you don't like it, we'll give it a try. Because I almost lost him once without really being able to be with him..."

Your father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. From the kitchen window you could see Bradley playing with your nephews, under your mother's and in laws’ amused and tender eyes. A small smile crept across your lips as the little ones called you over to help hold Bradley down. You hurried to join them, and your mother joined your father.

"Our boys and the little ones seem to like this Lieutenant…”

“Seems like it…”  

“He reminds me a little of you when we first met..." Vivian chuckled to Beau as she hugged him. 

"Really?" the man wondered, "and how?"

"Well, he has that same sparkle in his eyes... the one that calls for adventure, that gentle and loving look when his eyes land on our Storm... and he's also very good with children," she laughed at his slightly embarrassed expression, "You should give him a chance... our princess looks so relaxed with him... look at her… look at her smile…"

He lifted his head and watched the two of you having fun with the three little boys and sighed. His wife was right. You looked so happy in Bradley's arms, waltzing and laughing with the kids. He'd never seen you look so radiant, as cliché as it sounded. Your brothers also seemed to have accepted the newcomer without too much fuss. So Beau seemed to be the only one who was uncomfortable with the whole situation.

He nodded and kissed his wife on the forehead. "Okay, I'll try... but I'm not promising anything."

Vivian rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. She knew for a fact that your father would quickly accept Bradley as well.

Lunch went off without a hitch, Beau swallowing his pride not to be as awkward with Bradley as possible, although he did draw a few murderous looks from your father when he put his hand a little too high on your thigh or lower back. After dessert, he helped your brothers put the kids down for a nap and let them share the convertible bed in your little study. Your sisters-in-law and your brother-in-law, Evan - Aaron's husband - helped you with the dishes. They gently teased you that Bradley was a very handsome young man and that you had chosen well. 

"I know I did. Look at you all, we Simpsons always have good taste," you sniped back with a wink and a teasing smile, making them laugh.

"Wait, wait, wait... So he was your regular booty call after your first assignment?" Evan seemed to realize. You shushed him and made sure that your parents didn't hear him say that. Annie laughed a little and grabbed your shoulder, making you look into her eyes. 

"I can see why you qualified him as the best sex of your life after the upper body I saw this morning," she teased you again, making your face completely flush. You practically begged her to stop talking about your sex life, very embarrassed. But the three of them could be little bullies and they loved to tease you sometimes.

"Guys, please stop. If my father hears you-"

"Hear what, Stormy?"

You turned and paled a little under your father's cold gaze and tight smile. Your sister-in-law and brother-in-law took the opportunity to run off like teenagers, and of course Bradley arrived just then, smiling carelessly. 

"The three cataclysms are finally asleep. Is everything okay in here?" he asked as he joined you in front of your father. He immediately wiped the smile off his face when he saw the look on Beau's face.

"You're lucky it's my wife's birthday, Bradshaw," he growled, his eyes staring straight into your souls, "but if I hear one more detail about your... nocturnal activities, I'm going to make sure that the two of you are as far away from each other as possible, even if it means sending one of you to Japan or Korea. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Bradley replied promptly, "Clear as day.”

"For God's sake, Dad, aren't you being a little extreme? I'm a responsible adult-"

"I'm warning you, I don't want another grandchild too soon. Keep it in your pants."

"Dad!!"

Just when you thought you couldn't get any more embarrassed, your dad had the right words. He left the two of you in the kitchen, muttering that he was getting too old for this. 

"Oh my God..." You cursed as you hid your face in your hands and turned towards the sink. Of all the weird things that could happen, you'd really hoped no one would mention your sex life. You felt a little angry, but more than that, you were extremely embarrassed. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the counter as you lowered your head. You felt the warmth of Bradley's body enveloping you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his front against your back and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing, babe? I told you it would take more than that to scare me off... Maybe your dad hasn't fallen for the Bradshaw charm yet, but I'm working on it..." he tried to cheer you up, "And now I have an army of kids who love me, I can order them to defend me."

You smiled, amused at his silliness. "You're really good with kids, but I think it's them who will command you..."

"Maybe you're right," he laughed a little and kissed the hollow of your neck, his mustache tickling you, "but your mother has already adopted me. I'm protected."

You laughed with him, your embarrassment and anger disappearing. You leaned against him, enjoying the hug he offered you. These simple gestures were so comforting that it was almost frightening how quickly he could soothe you. You closed your eyes as he hummed and softly danced with you in the kitchen. It was so cliché, right out of a rom-com, but you couldn’t care less.

After a few minutes, you regained enough courage to join the rest of your family in the living room. Your in-laws gave you apologetic looks, and your brothers were a little lost, but didn't dare ask. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Bradley learned every little anecdote your mother had to share; whether it was about your brothers, you, or even your father, she was more than happy to share with him. Jamie and Alice had fallen asleep in the garden, making your mother smile in awe. Nathan laughed a little with Aaron. "We warned them that a newborn was exhausting, but they insisted on coming here their own way...". 

You laughed a little too, it was true they looked exhausted. But little Juliet was so cute that they forgot how tired they were. 

Speaking of her, the baby phone warned everyone that she was waking up. You volunteered to warm her bottle and Bradley went to get her. Alice had put the travel crib in your room so the other three children would not be disturbed if Juliet woke up. 

When the milk was at the right temperature, you joined Bradley in your room. Your cheeks flushed and you felt butterflies in your stomach when you saw him holding the little one. He rocked her gently, stroking her cheek with his index finger. He seemed so natural that it made you fall even more in love with him. 

You shook your head, your father's voice echoing in your head: "No more grandchildren for now.”

You joined him and let him gently place the baby in your arms. You smiled and fed the hungry five-month-old in your arms. Bradley leaned against the doorframe and watched you with a soft smile. You, too, were a natural with children. Juliet seemed so comfortable in your arms and you seemed so relaxed. He found himself daydreaming about the two of you having children together. He blushed as he imagined you pregnant with his baby... and Nathan giggled behind him. "Calm your horses Bradshaw, you're not putting a baby in my sister anytime soon."

Bradley's face turned as bright red as yours. "Nathan, shut up!" you yelled-whispered at him, careful not to disturb the eating baby in your arms.

“What? You heard our old man, "No more grandchildren for now!”” Nathan grinned and put his arm around Bradley's shoulders.

"I can't promise that..." Bradley mumbled softly, mesmerized by the sight of you holding Juliet against you as you burped her after she had finished her bottle. Nathan's eyes widened and he tried his best not to burst out laughing. "What did you say, Brad’ ? I think I misheard you?"

You blushed as you realized what your boyfriend had just said.

"I... Nothing!" Bradley defended himself weakly, very embarrassed. Nathan teased him until your mother told him to stop, threatening him with no cake after dinner. He immediately stopped and went to get his son after whispering to Bradley that he wouldn't forget what he had just said. You decided not to talk about it, feeling a little embarrassed as well.

It wasn't long before dinnertime arrived, and your father was relaxed and talking with Bradley. You even caught them laughing together. This interaction was reassuring for the rest of the evening.

As usual, your mother had cooked for a regiment, and your refrigerator was full of leftovers. She made Bradley promise to stop by the family home and look at the family albums and your childhood bedroom. He laughed a little but agreed. 

You walked everyone back to their cars, helped them with the kids' stuff, and your dad gave you one last hug and said good night. He said goodbye to Bradley with a slight smile and a quick hug. 

When everyone was gone, you collapsed on your sofa, drained of all energy. Bradley joined you with a smile and pulled you right into his arms.

"That didn't go so badly after all..."

You nodded, yawned and put your arms around him. You thought back to the day that had just passed, to that roller coaster of emotions, and laughed a little.

"So... eager to put a baby inside me Lieutenant?"

"Oh my God Y/N!!" Bradley blushed, hiding his face behind his fists in total embarrassment. You laughed and teased him about it. You preferred to take it as a joke because neither of you were anywhere near ready to have children of your own, you both agreed on that. Or did you?

He turned to you, a serious expression on his face.

"And what if I am? Would you... would you be on board to have kids with me? Not right now, of course, but... I... I can't imagine a future without you in it, and I'd like to have kids with you. I know we haven't really been together that long, but we've known each other for a long time... and oh my God, I'm rumbling," he groaned, rubbing his face before looking back at you. "What I mean is that I love you and I don't want to live without you. Maybe it's rushed, maybe you-"

You interrupted him, pulled him by the collar and kissed him. You didn’t know what came over you; maybe it was the fact that he had just admitted his feelings, or the fact that he was already planning a life with you. Maybe both. Certainly both.

"I love you too," you whispered between two kisses, "and I don't want to be without you either... and I would love to start a family with you someday, Lieutenant Bradshaw..."

You smiled, your forehead pressed against his, and he chuckled in relief.

"Today was really like you... a storm..." he sighed, smiling and stroking your cheeks.

"I know... are you sure you can keep up with my family?" you teased, "Now that you've messed with the storm, the cyclone will never be far away."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Stormy."

[an-eternal-state-of-simping]

Maverick and Cyclone 🤝 Single-handedly increasing sales by 300%

The Navy makes a calendar full of naval aviators to raise money and increase enlistment but it ended up just being all Iceman.

EDIT: Building off of the Iceman calendar…

[cinebration]

5 Times Cyclone (Barely) Kept His Cool (& 1 Time He Didn’t) (Cyclone x Reader) [One-shot]

Disclaimer: I know nothing about how the Navy and Air Force work.

I had originally planned an entirely different multipart fic, but my brain won't let me write.

Tagged: @crispysublimecupcake, @failure-of-a-student, @abaker74, @green-parx, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @deanscroissant, @b-bradshaw, @alldaysdreamer, @bat-luna-cat, @auntiegigi, @another-bookwyrm, @littlewhiterose, @lucy-sky

Warnings: none

Gif Source: garethamm

Beau “Cyclone” Simpson rarely frequented the bar, not merely because he didn’t much care for the atmosphere but because he felt it necessary to remain distant and aloof from his subordinates—even ones that were just names on paper to him.

After the success of Maverick and his team in destroying the unsanctioned uranium enrichment plant, however, Cyclone found himself alongside Warlock in the bar, watching the TOPGUN pilots toast their triumph. Music thumped a steady beat in the background as the chatter, laughter, and cheers swelled in rolling waves through the enclosed space. Sweat trickled down the back of Cyclone’s neck as the heat of the room pressed down on him.

He tried to let his professional façade relax a fraction. He was just as elated as the flyboys at the success of the mission—more so, considering he had known the full ramifications of the crisis should they have failed. His relief was as palpable as the strength of the relieved expression on Warlock’s face.

Sipping his beer, he scanned the room, lips bearing the faint ghost of a smile as he noted the euphoric faces of his subordinates. Beyond the core group clustered around the pool table, several pilots sat or stood in scattered groups, elbowing each other and laughing, beers in hand.

Beyond them, in the far corner beside one of the windows overlooking the beach, you sat at a table, a half-filled glass in front of you. One foot propped up on the chair across from you, aviators hanging from the collar of your blouse, dark jeans, and ankle boots the same color of brown as your faux leather jacket, you had the same easy confidence tinged with a hint of arrogance as Maverick, of all people.

Cyclone stared.

“Cyclone? Beau?”

Cyclone’s attention snapped to Warlock. “What?”

“Are you really so incapable of enjoying yourself?”

He frowned. “What?”

“You really weren’t listening.” Warlock shook his head. “We’re here to relax and enjoy the win.”

“There are too many other things to win,” Cyclone countered. “This is just one.”

He glanced at your table.

Your seat was empty.

Cyclone straightened in his seat, scanned the room. The flyboys blocked his view, flaring his irritation as he strained to see past them.

Nothing.

Cyclone ground his teeth in disappointment.

“What’s the matter?”

He shook his head, biting back the retort surging through him: You let her get away. Again.

“Nothing,” he muttered. He sucked on his beer, the taste of it flat on his tongue. “Nothing at all.”

~~

A week and a half later when Cyclone had finally succeeded in pushing away the frustration and disappointment, he sat in a war room across from his counterpart in the Air Force, a man he begrudgingly respected not so much for his track record as for his personality. The man had managed to rise with a stellar career through the Air Force without turning into a total asshole.

Seated at the head of the table, the Secretary of Defense, a retired general of significant pedigree, intoned in a deep, buttery voice, “The mission requires a joint operation between the Air Force and the Navy. The Commander-in-Chief is demanding that it be done quickly and with such precision that it would make a neurosurgeon eat his shirt.”

General Charles Mcloughlin chuffed a quiet laugh. “The neurosurgeons I know would never.”

Unamused, SECDEV continued, “This mission is top priority. I don’t need to remind you that we need top-level talent and genius thinking to get this done. So do it.”

With that, the man left the room, his aide scurrying after him like a remora trying to keep up with a shark. Cyclone turned to Mcloughlin, who returned his hard stare with a heavy calm, unaffected gaze.

“I take it you heard about this beforehand,” Cyclone noted, inclining his head at the folder in front of the other man. “You already have a plan?”

“A semblance of one,” Mcloughlin demurred. “I already have two pilots selected from our end, the real crème-de-la-crème of the entire Force.”

Cyclone sighed. “But?”

“We need to use F-22s.”

Raking a hand over his face, Cyclone leaned forward, forearms digging hard into the table. “F-22s can’t land on aircraft carriers.”

“No, but the carriers can launch support for one.”

“Why would an F-22 need support from anything? No other aircraft matches it.”

“Because we’re going to crash it.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

Mcloughlin shook his head. “They’re being phased out by the F-35s. This mission requires us to complete the objective and then make it look like our aircraft can’t handle it anymore.”

“And you want my men to, what? Take enemy fire to make your crash look good?”

“Something like that.”

This job is going to give me an ulcer. The muscle in his jaw jumping, Cyclone stretched out a hand. Mcloughlin placed the folder in his palm. Leaning back in his chair, Cyclone flipped it open.

Your eyes stared at him from the first page. The ghost of a smirk played on your lips, the lens flare in your eyes a mischievous glimmer.

Cyclone swallowed thickly, his heart flinging itself against his ribs. Carefully, he flipped past your dossier, spent as many seconds on the second one as he had on yours.

He snapped the folder shut.

“When do I meet them?”

~~

Cyclone’s general dislike for the Air Force stemmed from a well-hidden jealousy. He had always wanted to get his hands on an F-22 Raptor, but the Navy didn’t use it. Even in his flyboy days, he hadn’t even been able to share the same airspace as one. He had never seen one in person, grounded or airborne.

Standing in a hanger on the Pearl Harbor-Hickam base in Hawai’i, Cyclone could barely contain his excitement and awe as he took in the F-22 Raptor standing but a few yards away. It took all of his control to keep his expression an impassive, unimpressed mask, even with only the general and Warlock in the hanger with him.

“Couldn’t bother to do this back on our home turf,” Warlock muttered to him, shaking his head as he stared up at the fighter. “No, they want to rub it in our faces.”

Cyclone made a noncommittal noise in his throat, then added, “Our pilots could use the humbling.”

“Nevertheless.” Warlock shook his head again.

Mcloughlin stood behind a small podium they had set up off to the side, a number of seats arrayed before it. The TOPGUN pilots and the two Air Force ones were yet to arrive to fill them. With each passing minute, Cyclone felt his heartrate kick up another notch. He ascribed it to the proximity of the stealth aircraft he had once dreamed of being close enough to touch.

It wasn’t until the soft tread of several booted feet scuffed over the cement floor that the blood roared through his ears. Woodenly, he turned to face the assembled pilots taking their seats. Despite their newfound friendship, Rooster sat in the row behind Hangman with Phoenix and Bob, the latter two taking surreptitious glances at the two Air Force pilots. Fanboy and Payback were the least discrete, staring both at the F-22 and the Air Force pilots in turn.

You sat at the back, dressed in a flight suit not dissimilar to the ones the TOPGUN pilots used. The two bars signifying your rank as a captain gleamed sharply in the light streaming through the open hanger doors.

You met Cyclone’s stare. One eyebrow rose up your forehead.

Hands clasped behind his back, Cyclone fought to keep his eyes ahead as Mcloughlin outlined the mission to the pilots. Your stare was magnetic, the pull of it almost irresistible.

By the time he stepped up to the podium, his wrist ached from squeezing it so tightly.

“This mission is a joint Navy and Air Force mission,” he reiterated, his throat straining not to give his nerves away. “That means General Mcloughlin and I retain the same authority.”

Sweat collected beneath the collar of his uniform. He glanced at the Air Force pilot leading the F-22 mission, a Daniel Hummel.

Your stare burned fire through him from the back of the room.

“If you don’t play nice with my men, if you are insubordinate in any way, you are off the mission. The general won’t listen to any appeal.”

His gaze shifted to his own men and women, careful not to pass over you.

“The same holds true for you.” He made a point of looking at Hangman. “There is no inter-branch rivalry here. We’re all on the same mission, which means you have to trust each other. If you don’t play nice, if you are insubordinate in any way, you are off the mission.”

His hands gripped the edges of the podium hard enough for his knuckles to turn white.

“Is that understood??”

A chorus of “yessirs” filled the room.

“Dismissed.”

He risked a glance in your direction as you stood to file out with the others. The ache in his hands hardly matched the one in his chest when you didn’t look back.

~~

Rage burned in Cyclone’s veins. It would be one of his own men that instigated the fight during training for a mission crucial not only to the objective but to strengthening Navy-Air Force relations.

He could already hear the Air Force brass whispering up the ladder about the lack of discipline in the Naval Air Forces.

Nerves buzzing, he felt like pacing and screaming at the two troublemakers standing in his office. Instead, he sat rigidly behind his desk, a glower on his face as he stared at Hangman and Rooster. Both men barely met his eye, their postures just as rigid, hands clenched behind their backs.

“What were you thinking?” he asked, the steel in his voice dangerous.

“Nothing, sir,” Rooster answered.

“We were being challenged, sir,” Hangman answered.

Cyclone clenched his teeth. “Did I or did I not say to play nice?”

“Yessir,” the men agreed in unison.

“Then why is Captain Hummel in the hospital?”

“Airmen are made of weaker stuff,” Hangman quipped.

Cyclone’s jaw audibly popped. The faint smirk on Hangman’s face evaporated.

“Thanks to you, the primary on this mission can no longer serve on the mission. We don’t have the time to train another pilot to act as this mission’s secondary, so you both are relieved of duty. I can’t risk you injuring the other pilot. Dismissed.”

Both men shouted “sir, yessir” and filed out of the room so stiffly they threatened to snap their spines. Cyclone passed a hand over his face, releasing an explosive sigh when the door swung shut. His stomach spasmed as he thought of you taking Hummel’s place on the mission. The mission was dangerous as it already was, given the enemy aircraft that were likely to be encountered, but to deliberately trash a fighter in the middle of potential dogfighting another layer of suicidal to an already insane mission.

He hadn’t even spoken to you directly yet. The opportunity hadn’t yet arrived.

There’s no point, he thought to himself. You aren’t built for…anything but this job. It is your only mistress.

His nails dug into his palms.

Now he might never have the chance to find out otherwise.

~~

Chaos reigned on the aircraft carrier. The last of the F-18s had yet to land, instead doing circles above the aircraft. The enemy fighters had disengaged when the carrier had come into view, but not before launching a missile that hadn’t been intercepted.

It hit your win, as you rolled, sending you into an out-of-control spiral. Your engines clipped the edge of the aircraft carrier, a quarter-of-a-mile off your intended target.

The crash had been real, taking a section of the landing strip with it.

The urge to vomit overwhelmed Cyclone. Breathing shallowly through his nose, he waited. He waited an eternity for the final F-18 to touch down, Phoenix and Bob climbing out of the cockpit with unsteady legs. He waited an eternity for the rescue team to launch out after you, your parachute a clear beacon on the choppy water.

He waited an eternity for you to be brought onboard. Another eternity for the medics to flock to your side, surrounding you like vultures around carrion.

His stomach dropped when the chopper lifted off, carrying you to the nearest base for emergency medical assistance.

He slumped in the chair of his tiny office onboard the carrier. Numb, he reached for the phone already connected to General Mcloughlin’s line.

The general answered immediately.

“I heard,” he said.

The silence felt like a vacuum sucking out Cyclone’s breath.

“You ever bring a mission like this to my table again,” he hissed, “I will make you eat the proposal.”

He slammed the phone back in its cradle. Stared at it.

Picked it up again and slammed, slammed, slammed it against the desk until it shattered in his hands. A roar filled his skull.

Anything not bolted down smashed across the room, tore in his hands. The rage and despair gripped him in a dark whirlwind that violence didn’t satisfy.

He sunk back down into his chair, slid off it in a heap as its broken leg gave way.

Warlock found him sitting up against the wall, shirt unbuttoned, hair a mess.

“She’s back at Pearl Harbor,” he said simply.

“Get me there.”

When he arrived, you were out of surgery and recovering. Forced to wait half a day before he could see you, Cyclone diverted all his calls to Warlock and delegated everything else. He sat statuesque in the waiting room, consuming nothing but bitter, thick coffee that made his stomach burn.

You were awake when the nurses let him into the room. Bruises mottled your face, your broken arm in a cast.

He almost couldn’t bear to look at you.

You tilted your head to better see him. A faint smile split your cracked lips. “Did that catch your attention?”

He choked on his tongue. “What?”

“I’m glad to see I’m important.”

Cyclone gently grabbed your hand. “You were always important.”

You laughed brokenly. “Come back when I’m not hopped up on meds. We have a lot to talk about.”

He promised quietly to return the next day.

Only when you were out of eyesight did he lean against the nearest wall and thank God for your survival. He fought back tears of relief through the prayer.

[moonacrefarm]

anticipating love

summary: your parents marriage didn’t survive the test of time and neither did you first love. 

contains: childhood friends to lovers to strangers, second-chance romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, fluff, 18+ series, mentions of stalking, mentions of cancer, no mention of y/n

authors note: so...uh, here it is :D

series masterlist

next part | 02. never hesitating

01. watching, i keep waiting

It felt like clockwork. An annual phone call from your estranged father, asking for a few life updates before awkwardly ending the call. This time, the silence hung in the air longer than the usual three minutes, a quiet hesitation you stuck around for.

Beau "Cyclone" Simpson was known for being a stickler for the rules; strict and to the point. He wasn't a natural-made family man; your mom accused him of hiding in his work and neglecting his duties as a husband and father. It was the last argument they had before she stuffed you in the backseat of her car.

They hadn't seen each other since.

However, this time, the anxiety could be felt through the phone, "Dad? Is there something else you need?" You inquired.

He sighed, "How… How's your mother?" The edge that settled in his voice finally clicked. He knew. A few deep breaths later and you gathered the strength to speak.

"She's…getting better. The doctor said there's hope." Silence followed again. It felt as if time slowed before he spoke again, “There’s a doctor here in San Diego who can treat her. We never divorced so… if she wants to I can…” He went quiet for a moment. “I know the move would be taxing but you guys would be closer to family and—”

“I'm not sure if she would want that, dad.” You spoke softly, gently cutting him short. “I've tried to convince her to take the recommendation, but…you have to speak to her.” Further silence followed. You could almost hear his heart hammering over the phone.

Your parent's relationship was a mystery to you. They’d never divorced but you were uprooted and planted halfway across the country when they separated. Your father didn’t fight and your mom didn’t have it in her to keep up with him. He’d prioritized his career over his family, and you knew he regretted it following your and your mother's departure.

Sure, you’d seen him sparsely throughout the years, receiving birthday gifts and visiting for holidays, but the damage had been done.

"Alright. You're right. I'll try to talk to her as well." He conceded. You didn't respond, whispering a soft goodbye before pivoting towards the window.

Observing as your mother tended to her garden, humming along with the radio. You had made a home in Virginia, but was it home? Both of your mother’s and father’s families were on the West Coast and the state held bitter memories after a failed engagement.

She'd always been stubborn, and while you weren't your father's advocate, you couldn't lose her. You understood this was her best option, yet she refused to take it.

It felt like days they spent speaking over the phone. Your father fighting tooth and nail to match your mother.

“You can’t honestly expect me to move halfway across the country for a maybe.” She spat. You couldn’t hear your father’s response but whatever he said softened her, wilting as her eyes filled with tears. She glanced at you. “Fine. We’ll see you then.” Her shoulders slumped as she made her way towards you, plopping on the couch and leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Pack your swimsuit. We’re going home.”

Phone calls had been made, flights booked, boxes shipped and suddenly you were standing in your childhood room. Not much had changed, except for the piled-up boxes that had been pushed into the corner. Memories hung around like outdated decor, a bitter taste filling your mouth.

A light knock jerked you out of your stupor.

“I didn’t know what to do…so I left it as it was.”Your father stood at the door. His frame taking up most of the space.

You inhaled a shaky breath, “Do you think it will work?” The fragility in your voice was noticeable as he inspected your face with a crease in his brows, lips pursed. “I hope so.”

Not much else was said as you continued to unpack. Mentally running through your to-do list for the next month and a half. Your mom had a doctor's appointment set for next week, and all you could hope for was promising news in the meantime.

Your mother's illness put a hiatus on your life. Her diagnosis turned your axis on its head; stability gone in a wink. Now you were unsure. Unsure of your future, of time, of her future. You decided to take time off of work and dip into your savings, this move wouldn’t strain you. If you were lucky, you’d be able to find a job near base, hopefully in some clinic. You couldn’t focus on patients when you’d see your mother in everyone. Time lost in your career wouldn’t compare to the time you valued with your mother.

While strolling through the house, you noticed your old family photos hadn’t been moved. Not a speck of dust to be seen in the home as you glanced at your parents in the living room. The tension was easy to notice. It permeated the air and left a heavy feeling in your lungs.

Words were waiting to be said you didn't want to be around for the aftermath. Not only to spare yourself from the debris of their approaching fight but also to give yourself the freedom to reset. Your emotional turmoil was eating you alive you needed some time to breathe.

“I’m gonna go visit Penny, she said to head down the bar once we were settled.” A swift kiss on your mother's cheek while she murmured, “Send her my regards.”

San Diego was a time capsule, the neighborhoods aging while the city was ever-changing. Familiar streets diverging off to ones you didn’t recognize. It’d only been a few years since you’d last come down and somehow that was enough time to reinvent the city.

Hard Deck itself had seemed the same, the amiable environment and ocean breeze skimming your cheeks. You’d arrived before the pub opened, approaching with excitement and allowing the bell to signal your arrival.

“Here I thought you were gonna stand me up?” Penny glanced over you with shining eyes, “Looks like at least oneSimpson can keep a promise.” A grin filled her face as she embraced you, her hug providing the warmth and consolation you needed after a massive move. “Where’s your mother?”

“Having it out with my dad” She winced.

“No wonder you got here before the bar opened.” You two shared a knowing look. You knew Penny had questions. Your mother was private about her sickness and never disclosed details. She even attempted to keep things from you. “Mom is down to see a doctor who might be able to help. I don’t know how the hell dad convinced us to share a roof but here we are.” You shrugged, wrapping behind the bar for a waist-apron.

Penny understood, bouncing her head as she gave you a gentle smile, “She's a determined woman. I believe she'll beat its ass before it even thinks twice about getting her.”

A faint huff came out of your mouth, “You know, you’re not wrong…” Before you could continue, Penny chimed in.

“There's a reason they referred to her as Hurricane, not only to piss off your dad but being an admirals daughter made her tough. Hell, your grandfather could barely keep her in check. He said he could control your mother or do his job.”

Laughter filled the bar, resounding through the empty building. The two of you calmed down, and you nodded your head in mortification, arranging some of the spirits as she continued.

“Hey, there's a reason we call you a little spitfire. Your dad and your mom? Of course, they'd create a vixen.”

A delicate smile graced your face, "I missed you, Penny." You admitted, "And I you. It’s not every day I get to see my favorite niece.” She tapped your nose as she turned to clean the bar top.

“Penny, I’m your only niece.”

“Details, details..” She hitched a tub of glass cups on her hips, waving you off, “If you aren’t gonna get to work, I’m gonna have to throw you overboard. We got a boat docked today.” You giggled at your aunt’s antics, appreciating her ability to keep the conversation light.

Penny glimpsed at you curiously, “Have you talked to….anyone else since you got back?” You understood what she asking without having her clarify. “Just some family members.” She gave you the eye, “But no. Haven’t spoken to Bradley in eight years and counting.”

“I thought you guys reconciled after you both graduated?”

“Not really. We talked sure, but we hadn’t spoken between then and when we finally did, things went to shit.”

Penny bobbed her head in understanding. "Stick jockeys… the only thing that keeps them grounded is insubordination." A huff fell off your lips as you got busy moving between tables. The crowd came in all at once, hordes of uniforms tottering in, some with arm candy, others eyeing for arm candy. This kept you in constant motion; gathering up drinks, bringing refills, making cocktails, and dancing around the jukebox.

The throng kept you light-headed, and you were thankful for it.

Groups of locals, navy sailors, and aviators cheered, drank, and sang. You were grabbing a refill for someone at the bar as Penny flirted with someone who looked vaguely familiar; he flashed her a warm smile as you tried to place him.

The distraction was short-lived when you took a pool stick to the hip. Your tray tilting into the hands of an arrogant aviator, his grin cocksure as he glanced you up and down, “Sorry dove,” He started, restacking the glasses, “I didn’t—”

“Careful.” You warned. “Disrespect a lady and get the bell.” Your finger pointed as a mischievous smile graced your face, “I think a pool stick to the hip is reason enough, no?” Your hands had been itching all night to ring the bell, it’d be a while.

“What if I help you carry this tray of glasses to the bar and work on an apology for you?” His green eyes filled with mirth, both of you enjoying this small pissing match.

“Much obliged.” You dumped the tray in his unsuspecting hands and he stumbled to keep it upright. Some of his fellow aviators cheered you, amused by the exchange. You made your way behind the bar as he handed you the tray, “Sorry for sticking it ya...” He pondered off, massaging the back of his neck, “Didn’t know you were behind me, I wouldn’t have gone so far back if I did.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“If I ask for refills would that ruin the apology?” He grins sheepishly.

You barked out a laugh, “What if I charge you double for your beers and consider it even?”

“Sold!”

He skimmed you over one more time. “Can I get your name on the side?” Silence fell between you two as you reached for the beers. He leaned on the bar, relaxing as he drew everyone's gaze towards him.

You let out a small laugh, deciding to toy with him a bit. "Callsign?" He knotted his brows together, "Hangman." You bobbed your head. "Top Gun graduate?" He nodded once again. You leaned in next to his ear, your voice quiet, "Piece of advice, Lieutenant….” You glanced into his eyes, whispering, “You might not want to hit on the daughter of the vice-admiral."

You didn't typically pull out your dad's rank, but this time it was worth it. His mug slipped, paling slightly. "They call me little Simpson. But hush,” You dragged a finger over your lips, “This is a secret between you and me.” You gave a small smirk. "Here are your beers sir," He didn't say another word as he toddled back towards his table, his crowd hollering at his stupefied disposition.

The sun had just started to set, disappearing behind the horizon and you called Penny for your break. You tucked away your apron as she took over, pumping cocktails and drinks out with ease. “I’m heading down to the shore for a bit, I missed California sunsets.”

“Remember, I need you back in 15!” She called after you, too occupied flirting.

The sand was warm and the breeze was gentle. Allowing yourself to unwind as you sit in the sand, resting your head on your knees, you listened to the hustle and bustle of the bar in back of you. Your aunt had run the bell and someone just got thrown overboard. You watched as the same aviator from before was one of the few that carried the old-timer out.

You still couldn’t place him but decided to let it go. You could ask Penny about it later.

A familiar tune of piano keys causes your spine to straighten. Nausea twisted itself in your stomach as goosebumps peppered your skin. You stood up, listening for his voice as he started singing, still incapable to believe it unless you see him.

You peeked, treading cautiously towards the window.

And there he was.

Sitting at the piano bench, singing the same song Carole hummed in the kitchen when she babysat you. His fingers danced on the keys as he commanded the room, bobbing his head as he sang. He had a fuller build, aviators sloped on his nose with an open Hawaiian shirt. The same one Carole said he could wear once he was old enough for it to fit him.

Dread spread through your limbs as time stalled. Penny would understand if you left now. You’d just have to run in and grab your things. You’d be gone before he noticed you.

The hesitation only worsened when he raised his eyes and that confidence was taken over by surprise. It was only a second but it was enough to jerk you into action. Descending into the crowd, you concealed yourself between bodies as you escaped towards the back to grab your keys.

The song wasn’t quite finished yet. He kept up his performance and you didn’t have it in you to match him today. “Penny—”

“Go. I know now isn’t the time.” You embraced her tightly, swearing to drop by tomorrow and complete your shift, but right now you needed to go, and having a face-off with the man who broke your heart isn’t what you needed. Maybe later, but not now, it would be too much.

The air hit your flushed cheeks, catching your breath from the sudden intrusion. You glanced up one more time before trekking to your car, watching him bask in the ambiance of the crowd cheering him on, arms spread out to take in the energy. It didn’t last long before his gaze set itself on you, making his way through the crowd with a smile. Anyone would miss it, but you weren’t anyone. His face was tight and he walked stiffer than his usual gait.

You hadn’t seen Bradley Bradshaw since you were 26, and before that, since you were 18. You’d been raised together since you could remember.

It was now or never, you could spilt at the last moment and very evidently run or you could hesitate and let him catch up to you.

Whatever options you had evaporated as the door opened. It moved slowly, and you held your breath.

In that moment you felt foolish, why did you need to hide? He was the one that left you that morning. He was the one that didn’t answer your phone calls and refused to reach out. Outrage simmered in your throat as you felt it flush in your ears. Why hide when you could bury the hatchet here and let him have it?

He slowed as he got nearer as if he could never reach you no matter how far or fast he walked. He dangled his aviators on the neck of his tank, gathering himself. His gaze followed you up and down, leaving a burn wherever you felt his stare.

“Bradley ‘The Brave’ Bradshaw.” You spat.

He winced narrowly at your tone. Wonder steeling his bones as he was rendered speechless.

“How was the last…what? Decade? It’s been almost a decade since I’ve seen you. Phew time just flies. Doesn’t it?” You folded your arms over your chest, standing at attention as he just stared.

He didn't talk for a while. Breathing as he thought, chewing his bottom lip, just like he always did when he was unsure what to say.

“Good talk.” You headed for your car before he grasped your wrist, a gentle tug but one loaded with desperation. “I…” He paused again.

"Fuck, I don't know what to say." He rubbed his forehead, taking a swig of his beer. "I mean, I didn't have time to prepare a script and all." He motioned around, catching his failed attempt at a laugh.

"I'm sorry." He blurted. You both stood dumbfounded, just in surprise at each other's company. "I should've written, or texted, or emailed. I shouldn't have…." He trailed off as if shame carried his voice away.

“Oh wow. He thinks too. Isn't that convenient?” Your biting remark was followed by a snort, “Apology not accepted. It was shitty of you to leave me like that, knowing what was going on and deciding I wasn’t worth even a goodbye. You didn’t even say goodbye Bradley.”

Tears lined your eyes as bitterness warmed you, “I thought I wouldn’t be so mad at you after all these years. Believed that if I ran right now I could put it behind me but no…the years we spent together meant nothing when you left like that.” Your voice hardened with your resolve.

His grasp slackened on your wrist, “Then why did you come back? Thought you would’ve had the wedding by now.” He cocked his head to the side, aggravating you in the process.

“No.” You spit the words out, “Called the engagement off when he said my mother’s illness wasn’t worth the trouble.” Bradley stood dumbstruck, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. It wasn’t often Bradley lost his composure, he had to be able to keep his head on tight if he was flying a jet. In this moment, he felt ill. He didn’t even know.

“She’s…She’s sick?”

You puffed out air, understanding that while you may seething, Bradley still cared for your mother. She took him in when Carole passed and Pete left him with nothing but a dim future. As much as you hated him, you understood that hearing about your mother's illness hurt. He loved her like family and he didn’t have much of that left.

“Bye Bradley.” You shook him off as he trailed after you, this time a bit brisk.

“What do you mean she's sick? Is it a cold, is it the flu?” Panic rested in his eyes as he scrutinized at you. Scanning your face for answers.

Your eyes bore into the asphalt. “It’s stage four Bradley.” You said feebly, the topic weighing you down as if sandbags had been placed on your shoulders, “The doctor said there might be a chance but we don’t know yet.”

He stood rigid, processing this information as grief seized his throat. Squeezing tight until he could barely speak. “I-I didn’t know or else I would’ve…”

“Would’ve what? Finally, called? You cut me off and I made do with it, but my mother? She loved you like one of her own and you just left.”

He rubbed his face. Palms shielding his eyes as he took a few breaths in, “At the time, I couldn’t have stayed. You may not understand why but I couldn’t stay.”

“Or you just didn’t want to.” His eyes shot up towards you, “You know that isn’t why I left. You know damn well.”

“No, I don’t. I woke up the next morning with nothing but your old pair of aviators and some dog tags. The bed was cold and I was alone.” You both had a stare-off, clearly oblivious of what the other was thinking.

You just puffed and watch as Bradley stood there, in all his aviator glory, allowing the anger that filled your body to tide you in. Electricity pooled into your palms and you tried not to slap him, all you could process was that anger, just anger anger anger. It was all you had that wasn’t grief.

Whether he was here or not, it didn't matter. You were too cross to articulate any of it. Years of bottled emotions popping open before you could process them. Stillness suspended itself in the air again, gripping both of you by the neck.

“I need to go.” You said firmly, “I just… I can't handle you right now. Not now.”

Slipping into your car, you give him one last look. He was impassive, closing himself off so he didn’t have to process it.

It wasn’t your problem anyway, you just needed to get home.

[sarahsmi13s]

Told Them (pt 2)

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x wife!reader

characters: jake seresin, y/n seresin, grayson seresin, kennedy seresin, dagger squad, penny benjamin

warnings: third person pov, she/her pronouns used, domestic hangman, i believe that’s it

word count: ~2.9k

a/n: 3/3 (2/3) okay so I know i said this was supposed to be 3 parts but had i done this last part all at once it would have been unproportional: 3.4k (part 1), 2.9k (part 2) and then 9.4k (part 3)

soooo i broke part three up into 3 parts 

lightly proof-read

part 3 summary: after nearly losing his son, jake decides to tell the team about his family and invites them to his home for a cookout

part 3.2 summary: the squad has arrived, let the meet and greet commence!

pt 1  pt 2  pt 3.1  pt 3.3

********

The doorbell ringing startled Y/N as she seasoned the handmade burger patties.

“You good?” Jake laughed as he walked past her, just having come in from prepping the grill. “Shut it.” She rinsed her hands and wiped them on the towel by the sink before following Jake to the door.

Jake smiled down at her before opening the door. 

“Admiral Simpson, glad you could make it,” Y/N smiled as Cyclone and Jake shook hands. “Please, Mrs. Seresin, call me Cyclone.” She rolled her eyes, “We aren’t too keen on call signs while at home Admiral, and you can call me Y/N.” He chuckled, “Of course, call me Beau.” Y/N and Jake stepped to the side to let him in.

“How’s Grayson?” Jake closed the door, “Uh, he’s sore. But the medicine helps. Frustrated to say the least.” 

Beau nodded. “Also, something came up and Warlock won’t be able to make it. Is, uh, anyone else here?” “That’s okay and you’re the first one actually, I’m still setting up in the kitchen. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Jake and Beau went into the living room. “Kennedy, Grayson, you remember Cyclone right?” 

Both kids looked up, Kennedy nodding and waving at him. Cyclone smiled and waved back. Grayson shifted to stand and shake the admiral's hand. 

“Grayson, you don’t have to do that,” Beau held up his hands to keep Grayson seated, but still shook the boy’s hand.

The doorbell rang again and Y/N answered it. 

“Pete, Penny, hi!” They greeted with hugs. “Y/N,” Penny smiled as she hugged her before taking the two six packs from Mav. “I know we’re early, anything you need help with?” “Yes, please. I’m still trying to get the ice chest filled, and I could use an extra set of hands.”

“Darlin’, who’s here?” Jake’s voice rang out from the living room. “Pete and Penny!” 

She turned to the couple, “Pete, Jake and Beau are in the living room, Kennedy and Grayson are too. Make yourself comfortable.” Penny and Y/N went to the kitchen and Mav went to the living room.

About 10 minutes later, someone just walked in. 

“Seresins, the party has arrived,” Javy voice and laughter rang out in the house.

“Uncle Cy!” Kennedy launched herself off the couch and ran to the door. “Princess, be careful!” Jake tried to scold, but couldn’t stop the smile on his face. 

Javy came into the room, Kennedy on his hip. “Admiral, Captain,” he greeted the two with a nod. 

“Hey, Uncle J,” Grayson waved a little. “Hey G, how you feelin’?” “Better, thanks.”

Javy turned to Jake, “Where’s the missus?” Jake gestured over his shoulder, “Kitchen with Penny. I think they’re just talking now.” Javy nodded and set Kennedy down so she could settle in by her brother while they watched Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

“Hey, Javy, anyone comin’ in behind you?” “I think Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob were. Not sure though.” Jake nodded and pushed out of his chair. “I’ll be back.”

Jake went into the kitchen, Y/N was in deep conversation with Penny. “Hey, Sweetheart?” 

She glanced at him, and held a finger up while nodding to what Penny was saying. “Yeah, that sounds fun. I’m glad Amelia has a path she wants to follow. But I will say, she needs to be prepared for anything. And that it’s okay for plans to change.”

She turned to Jake, “Yes, Honey?” Jake smiled, “We got new faces showing up, figured you want to be with me when they got here.” Y/N nodded and smiled, “Of course, yeah. We just got all the drinks into these coolers, they probably should go outside before everyone gets here.” Jake nodded, “Okay, I will-”

The doorbell cut him off. 

“Guess they’re here.” Y/N looked to Penny, “Go make yourself comfortable in the living room.”

As Y/N and Jake went to the door he put his hand on the small of her back to relax her nerves. 

He pulled open the door to reveal Payback and Fanboy, instead of the other three he thought would be there. “Hey, guys.” “Hey, Hangman.” “Hey.” 

“Payback, Fanboy, this is my wife Y/N; Doll, this is Reuben and Mickey,” Jake introduced, a proud smile on his face.

She smiled back and opened her arms for a hug, which the two accepted, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you guys. Jake tells me a lot about you.” “Really?” “Yeah, all the time. Mainly when you bet 200 push-ups during an exercise, he wouldn’t stop complaining.” 

Payback cringed, “Yeah, not our brightest moment.” “Our? You said it. I just went along with it.” Y/N laughed and gestured for them to come inside.

Jake closed the door and followed behind them to the living room. 

“Grayson, will you pause the movie?” “Yes ma’am.” As he did so, he noticed the two new faces in the room and he got a little anxious.

“Kennedy, Grayson, this is Reuben and Mickey. They fly with your dad,” she said, nerves hidden to the untrained ear. 

Grayson carefully leaned forward to shake their hands. Kennedy sat up and tilted her head, “Mickey? Like the mouse?” Fanboy chuckled and nodded, “Yeah Kennedy, like the mouse.” “That’s so cool.”

Mickey chuckled at the five year old and caught the paused scene behind him. “Wait, are you watching Captain America?” Grayson nodded, “Yeah, it’s one of her favorites, Mom’s too.” “I love that one!”

Y/N smiled, “So, that’s why they call you ‘Fanboy’?” Mickey nodded, “Yeah.” She nodded and gestured to the furniture, “Feel free to sit wherever. As soon as the others get here we’ll probably move outside.” Reuben and Mickey found a seat and Grayson unpaused the movie.

Y/N pushed Jake to the kitchen so they could get the ice-chests. “Which has what?” Jake asked. “The big one’s got beer, a few ciders, and water. This one got sodas, water, and Kool-Aid.” Jake nodded and bent over to move the cooler.

“Uh, no sir. Do not try to carry that by yourself,” Y/N scolded, rolling the small one to the patio door. 

Jake straightened his back a little before reaching over and grabbing the handle. “And do not drag it over my hardwood floor!” Y/N’s voice called from around the corner. Jake huffed but laughed, “Yes ma’am.” 

She came back and grabbed the other handle, “Let’s go, cowboy.” They lifted it together and took it outside.

They came back in and went to the living room.

“So, Grayson, how old are you?” Jake and Y/N stopped when they heard Payback ask. “Oh, I’m 16, turned 16 back in May.”

Y/N held her breath a little bit and Jake squeezed her hand and whispered in her ear, “It’ll be okay.”

“Oh, that’s cool. So, you’ll be a junior?” Y/N let out the breath and Jake rubbed the back of her hand.

They walked the rest of the way into the living room. 

“Yeah, I’m ready for school to start.” “Really?” Pete asked. Grayson nodded, “Yeah, sitting around with nothing to do is really hard for me. I’m always doing sports or something.” The group nodded and the doorbell rang.

“If you guys want to head out back, we’ll be out there in just a minute,” Jake told them, gesturing to the sliding glass door. 

He placed his hand on the small of Y/N’s back and guided her to the door.

Y/N took a deep breath as Jake opened the door, revealing three people. 

“Hey guys.” “Hey Hangman. We weren’t sure what to bring so we brought assorted chips,” Rooster chuckled as he held up the bag. Y/N smiled and took the bag, “Thank you, you didn’t have to. But it’ll certainly help.” 

Jake smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “Rooster, Phoenix, Bob, this is my lovely wife Y/N; Y/N this is Bradley, Natasha, and Bob.” 

Y/N smiled and hugged them, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you guys! I’ve heard a lot about you. You specifically Bob.” A light dusting of pink splayed over his face as he hugged her.

“Well, we haven’t heard a lot about you. But I’m definitely excited to do so,” Phoenix teased, wrapping her arms around Y/N. Y/N smiled, “Well, let’s hope I don’t disappoint.” She turned to Rooster, who actually embraced her first.

“Come in, come in,” Y/N said when she pulled away from the hug and waved for them to follow her. 

They passed the empty living room. 

“Living room got a little full, everyone’s outside,” she explained, feeling the confusion of the three behind her. They nodded and followed her outside.

Y/N got her kids attention, and brought the three new guests over. 

“Kids, this is Bradley, Natasha, and Bob. They also fly with your dad.” Grayson once again leaned forward to shake their hands, “Nice to meet you.” They nodded at him, “Nice to meet you too, Grayson.”

Kennedy smiled and gave them a small wave, acting a little more shy now. 

Phoenix knelt down in front of her, “Hi, Kennedy. I’m Natasha.” Kennedy’s eyes lit up, “Natasha? Like Black Widow?” Y/N chuckled a little, “Black Widow is one of her favorites.” Phoenix laughed, “Well, in that case. Yes, exactly like Black Widow.” She tapped Kennedy’s nose, making her laugh, before standing.

“Hey, that’s an unfair advantage!” Rooster joked, laughing. “Don’t worry Bradshaw, Kenni loves everyone. I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Jake called over from where he was getting the grill started. 

Bradley chuckled and nodded as everyone watched Kennedy run off to go play with a tiny basketball. 

“He’s right. It might take her a minute, but she’ll be crawlin’ in your lap before the night is over I’m sure of it,” Y/N smiled and patted his arm.

Y/N went to start setting up the ‘set-up’ table and everyone started making conversation.

“Grayson, you said you play sports?” Payback asked. Grayson nodded, carefully shifting to get more comfortable in the deck chair, “Yeah, helps keep me busy.” The aviators nodded. 

“What sports do you play?” Rooster asked, leaning back in his chair.

Grayson chuckled a little bit, “Pretty much any that I can. But football, basketball, and baseball are by goto’s. I tried soccer when I was 10 but there was only fall and spring, which took time away from football and baseball. But I gave it a shot.”

The aviators took notice that Grayson wasn’t really talking about his injuries. Like right now he could have brought them up in relation to sports, how he wasn’t going to get to play or that he may never play again. 

But he didn’t, he talked as if he was perfectly fine.

So, they didn’t bring them up unless it was brought up by him or his parents first.

Bradley nodded, “I loved baseball in high school. What position do you play?” “Catcher, usually, I may play outfield every once in a while. My mom was a catcher in high school and dad…” Grayson paused trying to remember. “Hey, Dad? What position did you play in baseball?” 

Jake did look up from the grill when he answered, “Firstbase, I could pitch if needed though.” Grayson nodded, “Right, yeah.”

The group nodded and Fanboy spoke up. “What about basketball?” 

“Oh, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck. “It really depends, I guess. Back in Texas I was usually a point guard or a forward. I was not the tallest on the team.” 

“How tall are you?” Bob asked, he assumed since Jake was tall, Grayson was tall. “About 6’1 – 6’2, just hit a growth spurt this past year. Get my height from my uncle, he’s like 6'4.”

Y/N chuckled when she heard that as she stepped outside to hand Jake the patties and hotdogs. 

“Yeah, Jake’s not very happy that he has to look up at him,” she tiptoed to kiss her husband’s cheek. “But I’m sure Kennedy is gonna be taller than me, so he won’t be alone.” Jake laughed, “Yeah, my sisters are a little above average height.”

Speaking of Kennedy, she ran up to Y/N, pulling on the green over shirt gently. “Mama?” “What Princess?” “Can I have a Kool-Aid?” “Sure, baby.”

The aviators watched the simple interaction and smiled. 

Bradley looked over at Jake and saw Jake’s expression. It was the softest he had ever seen him. It reminded him of his own dad, oddly enough. Just the pure love in his eyes was what he saw directed at his mother. He glanced at Mav who obviously saw the same thing.

Bradley jumped when he felt something cold hit his knee, he looked up to see Kennedy holding the blue Kool-Aid out to him. 

“Uncle Bradley, can you open this, please?” He smiled, “Course.” She placed it into his open palm. He easily twisted it off and handed the now open bottle to her. “There ya go, Ken.” “Thank you!” She smiled and went over to Mickey, crawling up beside him to sit down and drink her Kool-Aid.

“So, Y/N, what do you do for work?” Y/N opened the assorted bag of chips and dumped them onto the table. “I’m a hairstylist. I mainly focus on coloring and stuff like that, but I do cater to the military community when needed.” 

Jake pointed to her with his spatula, “She was booked out the ass in Texas.” “Language,” Kennedy said from her spot. “Right, sorry, princess.”

The aviators laughed. Mickey looked down at Kennedy, “Where’d you hear that?” “Captain America said it, in the one where they fight the big robot,” she said, drinking her Kool-Aid. “You and I are gonna be great friends, Ken.”

They all fell back into an easy flowing conversation, everyone making jokes. Bob, Bradley and Javy offered their help but Y/N just waved them off.

Kennedy had finished her drink and had been playing in the yard. 

“Kennedy, sweetie, come on. Let’s go wash your hands.” “Okay, Mama!” The little girl slid down the slide on her play set.

Y/N chased her into the house, washing her hands at the kitchen sink. Then she remembered something.

She opened the kitchen window. 

“Grayson!” She tried to get her son’s attention but he was so caught up in the conversation he was having with Rooster that he didn’t hear her. 

“Gray- Oh my goodness.” “I don’t think he can hear you Mama.” “Me either baby.”

But Bob heard her and turned, using his thumb to point to Grayson making sure he heard right. She nodded at him and he nodded, turning to get the teen’s attention.

“No, but this guy was seriously thinking he was better than the senior catcher as a freshman. It was-” “Hey, Grayson, your mom’s trying to get your attention,” Bob cut in.

The 16 year old perked up and looked for his mom, finally spotting her in the kitchen window. 

“Yes ma’am?” “How you feelin’? Do you need your pain meds?” “I’m all good right now, Mom. Thank you!” He winced a little bit, “Actually, could I get some ice?” “You got it.” “Thank you.”

Once Y/N and Kennedy came back outside and gave Grayson his ice pack, the feast began.

********

Reuben and Javy set up a folding table next to the normal glass patio table the Seresins usually ate at and they all sat down to eat.

Their plates were full and not much later so were their stomachs, but they still went in for seconds. And of course had room for dessert.

“This peach cobbler is sooo good,” Payback complimented, taking a huge bite. “Yeah, this is delicious Mom.” 

Y/N smiled, “Thank you. It’s actually my grandma’s recipe, she used to make it all the time when Jake and I were kids.”

Jake nodded, “Oh yeah, her house always smelled like some kind of dessert. But you’ve got to try her cousin’s dirt cake.” He did a chef’s kiss. Y/N nodded along with her husband, “Oh yeah, when we have any family get togethers when people get a plate of food, they usually get a bowl of her dirt cake. I’ve tried to make it, but it’s never the same.”

“Wait, you said when you and Jake were kids?” Natasha asked, her arm wrapped around Kennedy who had seated herself in the pilot's lap after she finished dessert. “He said you’d been married for 15 years but I didn’t know you’d known each other that long.”

Both nodded, “Yeah, our parents became friends in college.” “I was born in October the year my parents graduated and she was born the next year.” “It was inevitable that we would be best friends. And everyone in the neighborhood had a bet going if we would end up together.”

Jake grabbed her hand, “Yeah, nothing could really take us apart. We never let girlfriends or boyfriends try to tell us not to be friends. I think deep down we both knew we were it for the other person.” 

He brought Y/N’s wrist to his lips and kissed the tattooed ‘JS’ that resided there.

If the squad’s hearts hadn’t already melted before, they sure were now. They had never seen Jake so relaxed before.

The moment was disrupted by Kennedy slipping down from Natasha’s lap. “Uncle Bob, can you push me on the swing?” Bob smiled at her. “Of course, let’s go.”

************

hiiiii! i’m happy you’re here! thank you for reading!

i hope you enjoyed this part three! well part two of part 3! the other parts are up now!!

if you want to be notified of up coming parts comment and i can add you to the tag list! and if you want to be added to top gun tag list lmk! <33

top gun tags <33: @roosterscockpit @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia @milesdickpic​ @wkndwlff @emma8895eb​ @blackwidownat2814​ @ireadthensuetheauthors​ @adaydreamaway08​ @starkleila​​

thank you guys for being here!!!

[ohtobeleah]

PL2

6 - In bed at 2am, blissfully drowsy

&

37 - “You're stuck with me, like it or not.”

With my favorite WSO good ol' Baby On Board (Sorry Fanboy)

I see you, and I raise you Bob Floyd with the Admirals Daughter.

Warnings: None :)

Bob had been freaking the fuck out ever since he’d gotten the call from the county hospital that you’d been admitted. The worst part about knowing you were in the hospital was the fact he couldn’t just up and leave in the middle of a tactical response seminar. But the second he was finished? The second Mav had stopped talking and dismissed the group of Elite Naval Aviators that sat before him, Bob was racing off down the hall, collecting his keys from his locker and making a rush to the county hospital across town. 

Because of course they couldn’t take you to the Base Hospital could they? No—that would’ve been too easy. 

“You have a patient here, Y/n Y/l/n—what room is she in?” There were two things about Robert Floyd that still seemed to shock people when they figured him out. 

“Miss Y/l/n, is resting and—“ Bob didn’t let the nurse sitting at the nurses station finish her sentence. 

“I asked what room she’s in.” The first thing that seemed to shock people about Bob was that he lost all sense of politeness and rationality when the people he cared about were in pain or in any kind of danger. Phoenix found that out one night at the Hard Deck when some guy touched her ass. Robert Floyd, who at that point had shown no sign of aggression or intention to ever engage in any sort of physical contact, stood up after he finished his last sip of lemon lime bitters and threw the hardest right hook he could. 

“As I was saying, she can’t have any visitors.” Bob didn’t like that response at all as the nurse went back to her paperwork. 

“Listen to me—“ The second thing about Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd that shocked people when they finally connected the dots, was that he was dating none other than Admiral Beau Simpson's daughter and had been doing so for a number of years before he even crossed paths with Cyclone at Miramar. “I’m gonna ask you one more time—“ But Bob already knew Cyclone from the many dinners he’d been over for during holiday seasons and family get-togethers. It didn’t however change the hostility the pair shared. “What room is my girlfriend in—“ Because there was something Bob hadn’t done yet that your father thought he should have done by now if he was serious about his baby girl. 

Bob hadn’t Proposed. 

“Floyd.” Cyclone called out from down the hall as Bob turned in the direction your fathers voice had come from. “She’s in room 1024.” Bob waisted not a second of time as he made his way towards your dad. 

“You’ve seen her?” 

“It’s locked.” 

“I don’t care—“ You were Bob's entire world, his best friend, the love of his life, his better half. “I need to see her.” As Bob tried to push past your dad, Cyclone put his hand on Bob's shoulder, catching his attention and stopping him from taking another step forward. 

“What are you gonna do kid? Are you gonna break the door down?”

“Yeah—“ Bob nodded as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “If I have to.” All Beau did in response was let his hopefully one day soon son in law go, watching as he made a direct line towards your hospital room. 

“I spoke to the doctors, they said she fainted at school but she’s fine Robert.” 

“If she fainted then she isn’t alright now is she!?” Bob spat back at your dad as he continued down the hall. Cyclone stayed hot on his tail. 

“They said she’s run down and a little dehydrated but she’s okay.” 

“Alright so then why won’t they let anyone see her?” Bob asked as he stopped in his stride and turned back to Cyclone who looked just as worried as Bob. 

“Because she’s sleeping, she needs it.” Bob knew better than anyone how hard you’d been overworking yourself. Between working full time and studying you were spread pretty thin. Bob thought you needed to take a step back, he saw the way you had been neglecting your own health in order to fit study into your already jam packed schedule. “Bob, she’s fine.” Bob let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in ever since he got the call you’d been taken to hospital. “She’s gonna be okay kid.” 

“What are you even doing here?” Bob questioned your dad as he ran his hands through his hair. 

“I’m one of her emergency contacts, they called me.”

“Yeah I know that but—“ Bob didn’t mean to sound rude, he was just stating the obvious. Beau Simpson had never been an overly passionate father figure. And it seemed as though Beau caught onto what his somewhat son in law had been insinuating. 

“You mean what’s a heartless shithead like me doing in a place like this?” 

“Yeah something like that.” Bob replied, was he proud of himself? No not really, but he knew his point had been made. 

“I would’ve come for you too if you ever worked hard enough to pass out.” Cyclone tapped Bob's shoulder as he smiled softly. “But you never have.” Bob chuckled softly too as both men saw a nurse stepping out of your room, gesturing that they could enter if they wanted to. “You go, I’m sure she wants to see you before anyone else.” 

“Thanks Sir.” Bob replied as he nodded and pressed his lips together. “Thank you for caring about her enough to come.” Bob left it at that, not quite hearing what Admiral Sysmpison said under his breath.

“You too son, you too.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

The next day after Bob had admittedly refused to leave your side overnight, you were both getting home to an empty house that had been left unattended overnight. 

However, as you slept soundly while Bob kept a watchful eye on you, he asked Fanboy and Phoenix if it wasn’t too much trouble, if they could swing by and just spruce the place up a little bit. 

They did without hesitation because they knew if there were still things that needed to be done around the home you and Bob shared, you truly wouldn’t be able to rest. And all you needed right now was rest. And plenty of it.

“Alright so here’s what you’re gonna do.” Bob cooed as he cupped your face and pulled you close the moment you both stepped through the threshold of your humble abode. “You’re gonna go upstairs and take a long, hot shower and relax while I cook us some food.” 

“I can help you cook.” You tried to argue but the look you got from your boyfriend in return was enough to tell you that he was serious about you doing nothing. “Alright alright, I’ll be in the shower.” 

“When you're done it’s straight into pyjamas, no ifs or buts.” Bob shouted after you as you walked up the stairs. You were so thankful to have Bob, someone who cared enough about you to want to take care of you and tell you to slow the hell down. You thought you were fine until you weren’t fine. Which was why Bob felt it was important and absolutely critical that he stayed home with you for a day or two to make sure you weren’t going to start back up into the almost psychotic routine you’d been putting yourself through to fit everything in. 

“Okay so I know you aren’t sick but I also know you can’t be feeling too crash hot so—“ Bob cooed as he opened the bedroom door a little wider with his foot to see you getting ready to hop into bed. “I thought chicken soup and toast might be good.” Bob explained as he padded across the bedroom, carrying two bowls of delicious soup on a tray.

“Is that your mum's chicken soup?” You asked curiously as the smell captivated your senses as Bob moved closer. “Oh god it smells so good.” Bob was as careful as he could be as he sat down beside you in bed, holding the tray he’d brought in with two bowls of soup and buttered toast to go with. 

“I didn’t have time to make it from scratch so I just got some out of the deep freeze.” You really did love Robert Floyd, and for what it was worth you’d say yes in a heartbeat if he ever did ask you to marry him. But it was something you weren’t too pressed about—you were just happy to enjoy the moments you had with him. “But here, we’re gonna sit down and we’re gonna eat this soup and we’re gonna watch Shameless because I know that you’ve been needing to find the time to finish it and now a time has presented itself.” Bob babbled as he passed you your bowl and took his own as he expertly manoeuvred his legs under the covers. “Don’t argue either.” 

“I feel fine, I promise—“ You tried to argue anyway as you blew on your spoon full of soup, sending Bob the biggest puppy dog eyes you could conjure up. “But this is perfect, thank you for this.” 

“Anytime.” Bob leaned in to kiss your cheek before the pair of you settled in for an afternoon in bed binge watching Shameless and trying to not think about the copious amounts of studying you had and the fact you had to miss work. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

2am rolled around a hell of a lot quicker than it normally did. Maybe it was because you and Bob had spent the majority of the afternoon in bed together or perhaps it was the fact that after your bowl of Bob's mum's chicken noodle soup, you felt a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Blissfully drowsy in a love filled embrace you snuggled into the warmth of Bob's exposed chest as he wrapped you into him, half dazed and sleeping. 

“I could stay like this forever.” You mumbled as you tried to get yourself back to sleep. Bob had always been a little sleeper. So much so it felt like sometimes he was always alert to what was going on around him, especially you. “But I know reality is chewing on our heels.” 

“You're stuck with me, like it or not.” Bob cooed as he pulled you in closer. “I took the next few days off to just be with you.” He explained, knowing that in the next day or two he was going to finally ask you to marry him. “So, reality is gonna have to wait, miss overachiever, because you're stuck with me.”

Smiling into Bob's armpit, you beamed at the thought. Damn, he really cared huh. 

“I don’t think that sounds all that awful at all baby.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: Break - Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @justameresimp @agentorange9595 @handsupforamiracle @lxaah11 @librarian1002 @imaginecrushes @flrboyd @@nani-kenobi @areamir @b-bradshaw @adaydreamaway08 @crimeshowjunkie @shepgurl @inkandarsenic @caffeinatedwoman @tortilla-maria1 @lemmons1998 @dr-alan-grantler @dizzybee03 @burningpeachpuppy @penguin876 @deliriousfangirl61 @goosterroose @kishie8 @skyesthebomb @druby2011-blog @olymosity @@marshmallowflufffox @whateversomethingbruh @soultrysworld @@4everademigod @reneejett4 @notanotherpotter @yousigned-upforthis

Hitting the Bingo Square: Forgetting

Beau knows what it’s like when you get focused on a case. He’s used to the late nights, the intense scribbling as you draft and redraft your arguments. You’ve got a big one on your docket this month, a General, whose been accused of multiple sexual assaults. His legal team are the best of the best but then again so are you, it’s why you were cherry picked for the position in Victim’s Services in the first place.

Still, he worries about you burning out, you dedicate yourself to your work the same way that he does and lately it’s been intense. There’s a lot of pressure on your shoulders at the minute, too much he thinks which is why you’ve forgotten about Valentine’s Day.

When he steps inside the house this evening, you’re situated in your usual place in front of the coffee table. Your back rests against the couch as you read through your notes, making edits with a pencil. You’re wearing one of his jumpers over black leggings, your hair tied up into a messy bun. You barely register his presence, not until he sets the glass of white wine down next to a small stack of papers.

“Ally,” He says softly as he sits down in the space alongside of you. “You need to take a break.”

“Hm.” You respond distractedly, and he knows you aren’t hearing him.

There’s one thing he knows will distract you from your task. It’s his secret weapon, the thing he always uses when you get too inside your own head.

His fingertips brush over the collar of the sweater, moving it aside so that he can kiss that sensitive little spot between your throat and shoulder, the one that resides just in the curve. Your breath hitches as his heated mouth encloses over the space, the sound of your pencil pausing. His hand slips underneath the jumper, his fingers trailing over the lace of your bra.

“Beau…” You murmur, your head tipping back as you set your pencil down.

“Just relax.” He whispers against your skin, his thumb tracing over your pert nipple, bringing it to attention. “Let me look after you.”

It devolves from there, light teasing kisses that leave you desperate and overwrought as he goes down on you to the sound of Norah Jones’s ‘Waiting’. He takes his time, ruining you, his tongue tracing deviant circles over your clit as he fucks you with his fingers. It’s a slow build up, you raise, and you fall, but he won’t let you over the peak, not until he hears his name roll off your lips because that’s when he knows he has your entire attention.

You’re beautiful when you come, so fucking loud and uninhibited. He smiles as he kisses his way back up your body, his hands ghosting over your sensitive skin. Your eyes are still closed, your breathing heavy as his thumb chases over your flushed cheek. You look so peaceful right now, so serene and he knows that he’s achieved his goal.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been more attentive…” You murmur, your fingertips trailing over the line of his jaw. “I’m a such a bad wife…”

Beau shushes you, his forehead coming to rest on yours as he looks into your eyes.

“What you’re doing is important, he needs to be held accountable for what he’s done.” Beau reassures you, his nose trailing along yours. “I’ve booked us in at that little B&B in Denver after the trial, the one you love. We’ll take a little time then, get reacquainted.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” You whisper, the edges of your mouth turning up into a smile before he kisses you again. Your fingers thread through his hair and he moans at the sensation when you tug just a little.

“Now…” You murmur with that mischievous tone of yours. “It’s my turn to take care of you.”

Love Beau? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[ddejavvu]

mei's 20k celebration !!

first of all, thank you to each and every single one of you for being here!! together you make just over 20k. the size of my audience is very hard for me to fathom (seriously, have you ever googled what 20,000 people look like? insane!!!) but i know i'm incredibly grateful that you're here!! writing is very fun for me but it's even better with lovely people like you cheering me on, and i'm happy to do what i do if it means you get to enjoy it.

i have been exceptionally busy lately, and i haven't done a follower celebration since 10K i believe, so i figured now was a good time for another one! i know not everyone is into the same fandoms as everyone else, so this celebration will be separated into each different fandom that i write for. why? it's fun for me to plan things around my fandoms, but i didn't want to exclude anyone, so i just made a little mini celebration for them all :)

you're allowed to send as many asks as you want, for whichever fandoms you want, i just ask that you do it in separate asks! i'm not sure yet when I'm going to end the celebration, but I'll give you at least a 24H warning so that you can send in any last asks you have :)

without further ado: my 20k follower celebration!

Top Gun / Top Gun Maverick - Playing With The Boys

Are you ready for a beach day with some navy men? Choose an option from the list below and come hang out by the water, just be careful no one pushes you in!

'maverick? did your mother not like you, or something?' - make up a callsign for yourself, tell me why you've chosen it, and I'll tell you which character i think you'd get along with!

'i just don't want anyone to know i've fallen for you.' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)

'and your wingman?' - tell me your favorite character and i'll link a tiktok that i think fits their vibe!

'dogfight football.' - games! fmk, would you rather, cym, all surrounding the characters of top gun!

'baby on board!' - send me a headcanon about one of the characters and i'll give you one back!

'hangman. you look... good.' - tell me your favorite character and i'll give you a photo of them from my pinterest board

characters accepted: pete 'maverick' mitchell, nick 'goose' bradshaw, tom 'iceman' kazansky, ron 'slider' kerner, leonard 'wolfman' wolfe, rick 'hollywood' neven, beau 'cyclone' simpson, bradley 'rooster' bradshaw, jake 'hangman' seresin, natasha 'phoenix' trace, robert 'bob' floyd, javy 'coyote' machado, mickey 'fanboy' garcia, reuben 'payback' fitch, + ask if you'd like me to write someone else!

Criminal Minds - Wheels up in 30

You've been called on a case with the BAU! Pass the time on the jet with an option from the list below, and good luck catching your unsub!

'we interrupt your regularly scheduled programming...' - pick an activity to do on the jet on the way back from a case, and i'll tell you which member of the BAU i think you'd get along with!

'oh, you LOVE me!' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)

'ah- he wants to be his FAVORITE profiler.' - tell me your favorite character and i'll link a tiktok that i think fits their vibe!

'hey, there's still money on this thing!' - games! fmk, would you rather, cym, all surrounding the characters of criminal minds!

'let me tell you about my team.' - send me a headcanon about one of the characters and i'll give you one back!

'pretty boy!' - tell me your favorite character and i'll give you a photo of them from my pinterest board

characters accepted: aaron hotchner, derek morgan, emily prentiss, spencer reid, penelope garcia, david rossi, jennifer jareau, + ask if you'd like me to write someone else!

The Marauders - Summer at Potter Manor

You've been invited to spend the summer at James's manor! Be polite to Euphemia and Fleamont, spend your day picking an option from this list, and try not to tear up the lawn!

'a rather friendly disposition' - tell me what you think your animagus form would be any why, and I'll tell you which character i think you'd get along with!

'oi! evans!' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)

'mischief managed' - tell me your favorite character and i'll link a tiktok that i think fits their vibe!

'i solemnly swear that i am up to no good' - games! fmk, would you rather, cym, all surrounding the marauders era characters!

'he's a murderer.' - send me a headcanon about one of the characters and i'll give you one back!

'pretty brown eyes' - tell me your favorite character and i'll give you a photo of them from my pinterest board

characters accepted: remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, lily evans, + ask if you'd like me to write someone else!

Stranger Things - Into The Woods

You're going monster hunting with Hawkins' finest! Pass the time waiting for your trap to be sprung by picking an option down below, but don't talk too loud, or it might hear you...

'we're stuck here...' - tell me which season of stranger things is your favorite and why, and I'll tell you which character i think you'd get along with!

'it's finger lickin' good.' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)

'that's actual shit.' - tell me your favorite character and i'll link a tiktok that i think fits their vibe!

'oh it's the championship game?' - games! fmk, would you rather, cym, all surrounding the stranger things characters!

'this is giving me the heebie jeebies.' - send me a headcanon about one of the characters and i'll give you one back!

'I've got a date, dad.' - tell me your favorite character and i'll give you a photo of them from my pinterest board

characters accepted: eddie munson, steve harrington, robin buckley, jonathan byers, nancy wheeler, jim hopper, chrissy cunningham, joyce byers, + ask if you'd like me to write someone else!

Marvel - Crime Fighting Duty

Your favorite heroes have asked you to tag along for a day! between calls on the police radio, pick an option from the list below and fight the day away!

'he's got one up his ass, too.' - tell me what superpowers you'd want and why, and i'll tell you what marvel character you'd get along with!

'you're a very good kisser.' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)

'pile of bodies, pile of heads.' - tell me your favorite character and i'll link a tiktok that i think fits their vibe!

'ooh! I know this one!' - games! fmk, would you rather, cym, all surrounding the marvel characters!

'I was cleaning the chimney.' - send me a headcanon about one of the characters and i'll give you one back!

'we look GOOD.' - tell me your favorite character and i'll give you a photo of them from my pinterest board

characters accepted: eddie brock / venom, peter parker (1, 2, and 3), matt murdock, steve rogers, bucky barnes, + ask if you'd like me to write someone else!

[callsigndragon]

Seeing Red | Ch. 9: Missing firsts📲 ✍️

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x ex-wife!Reader (Call sign: Red Queen)

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: a new meaning of the 'there was one bed' trope, mentions of death, abandon, sad feelings, Jake guilty era continues... and Beau Cyclone Simpson.

Masterlist on pinned

There’s a tingling feeling in your heart when you read the words ‘our son’. You shouldn’t feel like that; you know it. But Liam is happy because he gets to see his dad at last—that’s something you can’t ignore. 

If he’s happy, you’re happy. 

Your mom has been asleep for at least one hour, extremely tired after all the driving she has done today. You tiptoe to Liam’s room, which is actually your room because you didn’t expect your mom and baby to appear out of the blue. They were supposed to be here tomorrow. And Charlotte had clear instructions: never bring Liam to Top Gun. 

But Jake has always been in Charlotte’s heart. She thinks that Jake had a good reason for getting a divorce. Maybe your mom thought that bringing Liam to Top Gun would make Jake regret every single second he had been away from you and ask for forgiveness. You don't know why she is still trusting him. You also assumed that he had a reason for leaving your life and that once the problem that had caused him to leave was resolved, he would return, explain everything, and you would be happy ever after with the son who was growing inside you. 

He never came back. And by the looks of it, he’s not going to give you an explanation, either. It’s okay. You don’t need to know. You honestly don’t want to know. Knowing the reason might ease the relationship between you two, and you can’t allow yourself to fall for this guy again. 

Again? As if you had ever stopped feeling something for him. 

And if those feelings had faded away during the last two years, seeing him lying down in bed with Liam sound asleep over him, his face hidden in the crook of his dad’s neck, doesn’t help a lot. 

That’s the image of a loving father. 

“I can’t move,” he whispers, kissing Liam’s head. “Not that I want to.” 

You smile a bit, walking closer to the bed, and lie down next to him. “It’s funny because I never thought this would be your reaction after meeting Liam.” 

“You thought I’d leave?” 

“Honestly?” He nods. “Yeah, I thought you’d leave again. But your dad instincts took control over your body.” 

Jake sighs, hugging Liam closer. “You know I’ve always wanted to have a family.” 

“That’s why I named him Liam.” 

“Thank you for that.” 

There’s a silence after his words. It’s not awkward. Silences have never been awkward with him. 

“You told him who I was.” 

“Every kid deserves a dad, Jake.” You grab Liam’s hand, his tiny fingers closing around yours. “And you’ve always been a good man to me.” 

“Until I wasn’t.”

“You’re never gonna tell me why you left me, right?” 

“I can’t, Red. I literally can’t. Just… Just know that if I had a choice in the matter, I would have stayed with you. Always.” 

You shake your head. “Let’s not talk about that.” 

“Tell me about Liam. What does he like?"  

“Well, he likes planes,” you chuckle. 

“Guess that’s in his blood.” 

“Yeah… He likes cars. But not cars in the sense of automobiles. The movie Cars.” 

“Tell me his favorite character isn’t Mater.” 

“Okay, I won’t tell you that.” 

He groans. “That’s Rooster's favorite character.” 

You bit your lip. “Why do you know that?” 

“We watch a lot of movies with Payback’s kids.” He confesses, grabbing the blanket and covering Liam’s body. You help him, making sure that Liam’s arms stay under the blanket, but he moves them again, one grabbing Jake’s hair, the other searching your hand. “Sweet baby.”

“Yes, he is. He also likes chocolate. Bluey. Dogs, of course. And his grandma.” 

“I also love his grandma.” 

“I swear, if she was younger, you would have married her.” You joke, trying your best not to laugh. 

“I don’t know. Your father would have come from death and killed me.” 

“Oh, yeah. They loved each other so much.” 

“Are you… seeing someone? Because explaining why the father has suddenly appeared will be interesting." 

“No… It’s kinda hard to date when you're a single mom. I don’t even have time to read a book; how am I supposed to date?” 

“It’s bad that a part of me is glad that you’re single?” 

“It is. Are you single?” You close your eyes and mentally facepalm yourself for asking that question. Why do you care? 

“It’s kinda hard to find someone to date when you had the perfect woman in front of you and had to let her go.” 

A tear slides down your face. Fucking idiot, why does he say things like that? “I’ll sleep on the sofa.” 

“No, no, please. I’ll shut up, okay? Stay here.” 

Something tells you to leave. That you should go and sleep on the sofa, creating the distance you need right now. 

You are proud of yourself for being a very strong woman. Always doing the right thing, following the rules, thinking before acting. 

But if the world ended in this exact same moment, this bed is where you'd like to be. 

"Was it Valentine's?" He asks, somehow closer to you, his breath tickling your skin.

"What?"

"When we made him."

"Oh. Yeah, it was on Valentine's." 

"So his birthday is in November?" 

"14th" 

"Nine months exactly?" 

"A perfectionist" 

"Just like his mama." You both say it at the same time, and Jake's laugh makes Liam stir in his sleep. 

"Mama?" He raises his arms, looking for you. 

"Shhhh, baby. Mama's here. Wanna sleep with Mama?" Liam nods, and Jake moves him, so he is now lying down in between the two of you, his face pressed against your chest. He falls asleep in seconds. 

"You should get some sleep." Jake says, looking at the time on his phone. "I'll leave early in the morning." 

"Stay and have breakfast with him. Told him that you make the best pancakes." You close your eyes, slipping into Morpheus' arms. 

It's weird, because you could swear the last thing you remember is someone's lips pressing against your forehead. 

"Can you explain to me why I am in a toy store at 9 AM?" Payback groans, sipping from his coffee. 

"Cause you're the only friend with kids I know and I need advice." Jake reminds him, comparing the two Mater toys in his hands. 

"Another Mater boy?" The taller man laughs, and now it's Jake's turn to groan. 

"Mater, Mater… He's not that cool. Doc Hudson. That's a good character!" 

"You always go after the fatherly figures, Jake. Doc, Mufasa, Tony Stark... Do you, perhaps, have daddy issues?" 

"I love and respect you, but I'm not going to stop myself from throwing this toy at your head." Jake warns, raising the toy. 

"I bet you wouldn't throw that if it was Tony Stark." 

"I hate you." Jake looks at the toy; it doesn't seem to have small pieces that could break. "Okay, this one's good." He leaves the toy in the cart and keeps walking down the Cars section. 

"Did you really not know she was pregnant?" 

Jake had been waiting for that question since he parked in front of his house one hour ago. The other daggers would also ask him along the day, is something inevitable. 

"No, she was like… almost three months pregnant, and all her symptoms showed up when I left. I can assure you there wasn't a baby bump or anything the last time I saw her." 

"Man, that sucks. I don't know how I would feel being in your place." 

"Wanna know how it feels?" Jake turns around, holding his gaze. Reuben would never admit it, but Jake looks like he's about to cry. "I'll never know how it felt the first time he kicked his mom's belly. I'll never know what it feels like to run to the store at 3 AM because the baby is craving strawberries. I never went to childbirth classes. I didn't read a book about how to raise a kid. I wasn't there when she went through labor. I missed his first laugh, his first steps, and his first words. How the fuck did I end up hurting a son I didn't know I had?" 

"I don't think you hurt him, Jake" 

"Can you be sure that Liam didn't cry, not even once, asking for his dad?" 

Payback knows how improbable that scenario is. Kids cry, asking for their parents. Of course, Liam had cried asking for his dad. 

"Jake, you didn’t know. You're not the one to blame, and neither is Red. She did what she had to do." 

"I'll never blame her. She tried to contact me,butd she couldn't because I blocked her. Dammit, I'm such a dickhead." 

Payback chuckles. "Stop it. What's done is done. Just try to be part of that kid's life for the next 16 years." 

"Only 16?" Jake frowns. He wants to be in Liam's life as long as he breathes. 

"You never know what your son might do when he turns 18." 

"18? His 3rd birthday is in six months, and I'm already panicking." 

"Oh, first-time fathers are so cute." 

"Stop joking and help me find more toys, please." 

"Okay, what else does he like?" 

"Bluey." 

"A boy with taste." Payback concedes, walking with his friend to look for more toys. 

"Where's Liam?" Mickey whines when you enter the briefing room. 

"Well, hello to you too, Garcia." You laugh. "And Liam is at daycare. My mom was so tired that I left her home to rest. Poor woman spent all day driving yesterday." 

"But he's coming, right?" Bob pouts. How can a man so tall pout like a baby?

"You all want to meet him?" 

Mickey, Bob, Nat, and Rooster nod at the same time, smiling like idiots. 

"You can come over this weekend and have dinner with me and Liam." 

"I'm gonna meet my nephew." Rooster fist bumps, and you're about to chuckle when you notice that Payback, Jake, and Javy are missing. 

"Where are these three? Mickey, where's Payback?" 

"Dunno." 

You take a deep breath. Second day being the team leader and people are already arriving late. 

Your phone pings, and you look at it. It's Jake. 

Just when Jake sends you the last message, your phone turns off, completely out of battery. Amazing. The beginning of a great day. 

Almost an hour later, Jake, Javy, and Payback are still missing. You’re supposed to prepare for a special class that Dagger Squad needs to teach to the new Top Gun students. But without three pilots here, it is hard to move on. 

The door opens, and you’re sure that Jake’s stupid smile will be at the other side, but what you see is Liam running inside the briefing room, looking for his mama. Cyclone appears behind him.

“OH MY GOD IS HIM.” Mickey screams in joy, scaring poor Liam, who starts to cry. 

“Mickey, why do you have to be so loud?” Bob smacks him. 

“Hispanic people are loud, I thought you knew by now.” 

“It's okay, baby. What are you doing here?” You whisper to the baby, calming him down. 

“He started crying and calling for his mom. They couldn’t reach you, so they contacted me.” Cyclone explains, playing with Liam’s hands. “And we played for a while with some planes until he calmed down, right buddy?” 

“Planes are cool.” Liam agrees, nodding. 

“Oh, god. My phone turned off an hour ago, and Jake was supposed to bring me a charger. I’m sorry, baby, Mama’s phone didn’t work.” You say while kissing his head. 

“It’s otay. Boo is cool.” 

“Who’s Boo?” 

“I think that’s me. Cyclone was a hard word for this little guy, and Beau turned into Boo.” 

“Thank you so much, Cyclone. I’ll make sure to keep my phone charged from now on.” 

He waves it off, smiling. “Don’t worry. And please call me Beau.” 

“Well, thank you again, Beau. But now I’m in a bit of trouble. What am I supposed to do with you little trouble maker?” You tickle him, the sound of Liam’s giggles making everyone in the room smile. 

“You’re still planning tomorrow's class, right?” 

“Yeah, we’re missing a few pilots. They’re bringing me some reports I needed.” 

“And you sent…” he turns around, looking at the people in the seats, counting which are the missing pilots. “Three men for such a simple mission?” 

“Seresin is involved. You need one to stop him from creating chaos and another one to actually do what they’re supposed to.” You are trying your hardest to cover for him, because he really had to go buy toys on a job day. 

“You could have just sent Payback.” 

“And have to see Hangman’s face all morning? No, thank you. Now that he knows who Liam is, I won’t stop seeing him for the next 16 years.” 

Cyclone laughs. “Yeah, it’s true. You told me before.” 

“She told him before?” Nat whispers to Rooster. 

“I saw them talking in front of his office this morning.” 

“It’s Cyclone trying to make a move on Red?” Bob mutters, and all of them look at the Vice Admiral with loathing in their eyes. 

Jake may be a dick, but there’s no denying that he loves Red and that he would do anything for that kid. 

Cyclone is now public enemy #1. 

Tag list: @purplevortexx @shrimping-for-all @caitsymichelle13 @callmemana @abaker74 @starkleila @topgunmenbefinebruh @blue-aconite @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @smells-like-perfect-senses @dempy @djs8891 @indynerdgirl @countryclubswifey @lauenderhaze @avaleineandafryingpan @poppyalice2001 @emorychase @wildxwidow @agentwayne17 @shanimallina87 @khaylin27 @fudosl @rhirhikingston @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @ducks118 @teacupsandtopgun @impossiblebaglecowboyfreak @marissat1998 @blairfox04 @phoenix1388

[h-c-u]

Eye of the storm pt 3

Summary: You start to think about other things than your father's death, and Beau helps, without even realising how much. Oh, and there is a first kiss in this one :)

Pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson x fem!reader (Iceman’s daughter)

W/C: 9.1k

Rating: PG, age gap, canon character’s death (Tom Kazansky)

TWs: Grief, unnamed ED, Panic attacks.

A/N: It took me a while, but it's here... I think 2, maybe 3 more parts and the story I wanted to tell will be done.

Part 1 | Part 2 Masterlist | List of tags | Eye of the storm playlist 

- Cyclone! You there? - the loud banging at the door instantly jolted both of you awake, and you looked at Beau, fear painted all over your face. He only clenched his jaw and went to open the door, ready to deal with all the possible consequences, but you were not... So instead of facing the reality just yet, you hid completely under the covers, making sure that every part of your body was completely hidden. Logically you knew that there were signs that he wasn't exactly alone in the room, but without your face, it would be pretty hard to connect them to you. You didn't know that, but before he opened the door, he took one last look at you and smiled only seeing bundled-up bedding.

- What? - he asked, his voice completely void of emotions.

- You're late. It's 8:20. The call. - a familiar voice said, but you couldn't fully place it.

- Shit. I overslept. I'll be there in 5. - he panicked a little but already had a plan forming in his head.

- Mark that day in a calendar, everyone! Vice-Admiral Beau Simpson overslept! - the faceless voice laughed, and you couldn't help but chuckle. Now that you thought about it, he was always first in the room whenever he had a meeting with your dad. And he was always prepared and ready to go.

- Yeah, yeah... Make all the jokes you want, Sol. But make them from somewhere where you won't see me change. - Sol... Solomon Bates. You were finally able to connect the voice to the name. You only knew him in passing, that's why you didn't recognize his voice at first.

You heard the door closing, and you felt safe enough to peek from under the covers. He was quickly preparing to leave, and you wanted to try something truly evil. When he was still in the bathroom, you took one of his tan uniforms from the wardrobe and passed the folded clothes through the open door. You watched him quickly change from shorts into pants, putting on a t-shirt, but when it came to the beige shirt, you stopped him from doing the buttons and did them yourself, while he diligently watched every move of your fingers. Even though he was already almost late, and he knew that he could do them quicker, he'd much rather have you take care of that. You also pinned his ribbons and wings, as you did so many times in the past for your dad, so you knew the exact placement.

After you finished, he tucked the shirt into his pants and moved past you to find and put on the shoes, while you stood next to the door, patiently waiting on your tippy toes for your chance to execute the evil plan.

He eventually was ready to head out, but before he had the chance to open the door, you took his right hand into yours stopping him for just a moment before he left, and snaked your other hand onto his neck, gently pulling him closer.

He didn't even register what was happening, because he got so used to your presence and your touch. Everything you did with him just felt... right. But then he was out the door and had already taken four steps into the long corridor when it hit him so hard that he instantly stopped. You kissed him... It was quick and soft, just a peck on the lips, but definitely planned and intentional, not driven by overwhelming emotions. And he kissed you back as if he did it million times before... The blood immediately rushed to his face, and he could feel the warmth spilling into his chest. Only when someone saluted him in passing, he realized that in two minutes he was supposed to be deciding the fates of possible new Top Gun recruits. He fought with himself for a good moment, because his whole body was screaming at him to back and kiss you properly, but instead, he clenched his jaw, took two deep breaths to calm himself, and quickly walked in a direction of conference room number one. And while the blush disappeared from his cheeks, the giant smile stayed there for the whole duration of the call, to the point that even Solomon found it a bit unnerving.

And while he started working, you were still standing with your back against the closed door, with your fingers touching the exact place where your lips met, the sensation of it now forever carved in your memory. You honestly thought that he would stop you, but when instead he put his hand on your hip and leaned down to kiss you, you forgot how to breathe for a moment, and that weird feeling in your stomach appeared... Not exactly butterflies, but the one when you're in a car riding quickly, and there was a small hill or a bump... And for a short perfect moment, you felt light as a feather, and you could fly away to reach the heights you never dreamt of. And that’s what it was... A perfect little moment, tucked into months voided of colors…

It took you good twenty minutes to finally peel yourself from the door, but instead of going back to bed, you actually made it. Not to the military standards, of that you were sure, but at least it looked presentable. You took the packet of almonds, and at first, your hand also reached for your dad's journal, but it stopped, only hovering over it... After a moment without movement, you instead reached for a sketchbook and pencils... If you were at your place, you would have reached for watercolors, because for the first time in months, you were more in a mood for something other than blacks or greys.

Well... Postmates existed... Question was, would they be able to enter the base, or would you have to meet them at the gate? You put down the sketchbook back on the desk, took your phone, unlocked it, and immediately got overwhelmed by the number of notifications that appeared on the screen. At first, you froze, but because of the subtle scent of spruce all over you, you were able to start chipping at this giant iceberg. Most of the notifications came from the apps, so they were easy to deal with. Next came text messages. Mostly from your mother, brother, and a few close friends, which were still updating you, even though you were not replying. The majority of other texts contained condolences, but since they were from people you barely knew, you just... Ignored them. It seemed much less weird than replying "Thank you" after over two months.

With a heavy sigh, you finally opened the messages from Nick and scrolled to the first unread one... Which was a meme with his cat containing four pictures of him with his head in the pack of chips, looking in different directions, evidently confused, because he couldn’t figure out how to take the bag off, with the caption "Father...? Father!? Why have you forsaken me...?". You couldn't help but chuckle a bit. After a week of nothing, there was a short video from a hike, showing the landscape from somewhere high up; you didn't recognize it though. Next, there was another video, this time of his cat again, who tried to throw a speaker from the desk, but instead of achieving that, he himself fell off the desk. And message after message, video after video, meme after meme you finally got through the whole conversation. The last one was from just a couple of hours ago when the sun was still hidden behind the horizon. There was a small bonfire with his voiceover. "Hey... I know it's been some time since we saw each other, but mum told me that we'll be clearing dad’s office together. And I just wanted to let you know that I'm here for you no matter what, and I miss you terribly... I hope to see you then, but if you're not ready..." his voice cracked a bit, and that hurt you more than you expected. "If you're not ready, then you're not ready. I just hope you're getting through it...". The video ended and you were left with an emptiness in your heart, because only now you realized that along with losing his dad, Nicky also lost his sister. You were so engulfed in your own sorrow, that you didn't even think about it, cutting everything and everyone off... You instantly pressed the icon starting the video call and straightened yourself in the armchair.

He answered almost immediately. The video was choppy at his end, but you were still able to see that he was somewhere in the forest.

- Siema siostra! - you rarely saw him so excited, and you just couldn't help but laugh a bit. – Finally, rose from the dead? Shit. Sorry. - he realized what he said as soon as the words left his mouth, and if you heard it just a week ago, you would have had a full-blown panic attack, but now, still feeling the gentle touch on your lips, you were... fine.

- Figure of speech, I get it. - you gave him a faint smile, and he finally stopped walking. - And I am slowly getting through it... - you circled back to the last video you received from him.

- That's good to hear, good to hear... - he looked at the camera and smiled. - Where are you by the way? Mum was going crazy yesterday... - you sighed quietly. There was no sense in lying to him because he knew you far too well to believe you when you were bullshitting.

- I'm on base, but I'm... well... in hiding. You know since I'm not exactly supposed to be here. I have help though! And I'm actually eating! - he knew that there were periods when you had real troubles with that because he was usually the first one to notice when you weren't... He was a great older brother, even though you basically hated each other's guts when you were growing up, and it took a lot of time for you to get to the place you were now.

- My sister, a secret agent man... - he genuinely laughed, but didn't dig any deeper, even though you knew he knew you weren't saying the whole trough. - Wha... tr... eve... pl...

- Nicky, you're cutting out... - you tried to refresh the feed, but it looked like he was too deep in the forest to have good reception.

- Recep... it... - and the call dropped. You instantly got a message from him. "The reception is shit, sorry. It was good to see you. I'll call tomorrow evening, pinky promise."

You smiled and replied that it was good to see him too...

And now that your messages were taken care of, you got to the final beast, which was your emails... Again, there were a lot of condolences, but along with them, there were also a lot from your agent, about every single sale, and you couldn't believe how many of them he sent you... Usually, you were able to sell 4, maybe 6 paintings per month, but considering their usual prices, you were actually more than financially comfortable, but you just didn't care about that. And here there were... 80 paintings sold, almost all you had listed. You honestly couldn't believe it... Over 5 years of work sold in just two months. And then you realized what probably happened. Your dad's death was on the news... Since "Kazansky" wasn't exactly a popular last name, more people were finding you because of his death...

And that was enough to make your heart sink deeper into your chest.

In the last email, your agent mentioned that a gallery wanted to contact you regarding a possible exhibit, which under any other circumstances would have been amazing, but now everything was tainted, and you weren't even sure if you wanted to sell anything anymore... So instead of ordering paints and a small canvas, you put your phone down and reached for a journal that you had already memorized and started re-reading it with your knees under your chin; the unopened pack of almonds already forgotten.

Beau came back around noon, and as soon as he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks, the ones you didn't even notice for the last hour, he kneeled in front of you and after putting the tray with food on the desk, took the journal out of your hands, and forced you to look him in the eyes... Which opened the dam, and you started sobbing, finally allowing yourself to break down. You leaned forward and desperately reached for him, and he pulled you closer, allowing your arms to find their way around his body, and your face to hide in his neck...

- Shhh... Shhhh... It's ok, you're ok... - he whispered, slid his strong arms under you, and turned both of you around in such a way, that you were currently sitting on him, while he was sitting on the floor. - Can you tell me what happened? - he asked, not letting you go even for a second, and trying to soothe you by gently rubbing your back and swaying front and back, but you weren't ready to say anything just yet... Seeing you in this state was breaking his heart, and his chest actually ached, because the helplessness was turning into physical pain. He wanted, needed, to help you, but he couldn't do anything except just being there for you.

It took some time, but you eventually calmed down, and he rubbed the tears from your cheeks for the millionth time, but it was the first time you actually were aware that he was doing it...

- Did you know that I paint...? - you asked, your voice still shaky and quiet. He nodded and allowed you to explain. - I even have an agent. And I finally got through the emails from him. Over 250 of them to be exact... 3 per painting... One with all the offers, one with the winning bid, and one with confirmation of payment... Over 80 paintings sold in two months, because people heard my dad's last name on the news... - you started crying again, even the thought of it too heavy to bear alone. And fortunately, you didn't have to say anything more, because Beau understood what you meant.

- Would he blame you for being happy, or would he be proud of your success? - he asked quietly. Logically you knew that your dad would never want to see you the way you were now... All broken, overwhelmed by guilt, and unable to function... Especially if he knew that he was the reason you were like that. He would be ready to do anything just so you could be better... Except not dying...

Did you actually blame him for dying and leaving you alone?

Even thinking that scared you, because that was the last thing you wanted to do... You knew how much he suffered, you were there to witness all the pain, the guilt, the helplessness. You knew it wasn't his fault... But... That accusatory feeling somehow snaked its way into your brain and coiled around your grief unnoticed until now.

Logically you knew that it wasn't his fault, that he didn't choose it. For fucks sake, he fought till there was no hope left... He went through all the treatments, all procedures, and searched for international trials; he didn't just... give up. And yet... you couldn't help what you felt and that made you cry even harder because now you were getting angry at yourself, for even thinking like that. It wasn't rational, you knew that, but those emotions didn't want to just disappear.

- I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm talking about... - Beau whispered and hugged you even harder, almost crushing you in his arms.

- It's... It's not you... It's my fucking stupid brain. - you said in between sobs. - You're amazing... I'm... I don't deserve... - you couldn't even finish that sentence, because another wave pulled you under the surface and you lost the ability to think about anything coherent. There were just negative emotions festering in your head and you couldn't even let them out... You didn't even know how...

- Scream... - his voice managed to get through all the walls you were building up in real-time, and the meaning of it confused you enough, that for just a moment you came back to reality. You wanted to ask something along "what...?" but the word didn't manage to get through the giant ball in your throat - Scream. Just scream. As loud and as you can. - you were still confused, and Beau seemed to read your mind because he added. - There is no one in this part of the base, everyone is either eating or in training. Scream. - and that was enough...

At first, you struggled to get any sound out. Then it was strained and quiet, but after you took a deep breath and opened your mouth again, a full-blown, primal scream left your lungs. It was filled with anger, shame, guilt, blame... All the things that were stewing in your brain packaged not so neatly in one action.

You didn't even realize when you got out of his embrace, but you found yourself kneeling on the floor, screaming at it, as if was all its fault. You stayed like that until there were no more tears left, and no more voices in your brain, not even your own... You simply collapsed and Beau scooped you up again. You wanted to thank him, say anything, but your voice was long gone, and it would be a moment till it comes back.

You were exhausted, so you were more than grateful when he put you under the covers and kneeled, so your faces were on the same level. He wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, and you gently wrapped your fingers around his hand while it was still in contact with your skin, guided it to your lips and - without breaking eye contact - pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. You were ready to let go of him, but instead, he mirrored your actions by pulling both of your hands closer to him and pressing a soft kiss to your hand.

- I hate leaving you... - he whispered against your soft skin and closed his eyes, taking in both the sensation and your scent. - Go to sleep, babygirl... - there was that pet name again... In his mouth, it sounded so soft and full of something you weren't ready to name yet. You definitely didn't mind it, but you were never called that before, so getting used to it might take a moment.

He returned your hand close to your chest but didn't move until your breathing changed to a familiar pattern that showed up when you were asleep. He didn't want to leave when you were still conscious, because he was afraid you might start to spiral again... And considering how much energy the last hour took from you, he doubted you'll be awake when he'll finish working, which wasn't ideal because you haven't eaten today yet, but he knew forcing you to do so right now would not be good. But he still came back in around 10 minutes and brought a thermal mug full of tea with ginger and honey.

Beau was right because when he came back after a full day of working, you were still in the same position and nothing in the room changed. He took his thermal mug from where he left it, and gently cupped your face, trying to wake you up.

When you opened your eyes and he was the first thing you saw, you couldn't help but smile, for a short blissful moment forgetting about what happened earlier. He took your hand in his and placed it on a mug. You wanted to thank him, but your voice was lost, and the memory of what happened flooded back into your brain, and all the thoughts and emotions came back with it. You froze and he seemed to know exactly what was happening in your head.

He helped you sit up, unlocked the mug, gently guided it to your lips, and you took a first sip of a pleasantly hot tea. And then another one... The warmth of it mixed with honey soothed your throat, and you were finally able to say something.

- I'm sorry... - by his expression, you instantly realized that it was the wrong thing to say.

- You have nothing to apologize for. Everyone is grieving in different ways, and yours is not wrong. - he gave you the softest of smiles, and you leaned in a bit to press your foreheads together, a memory from today's morning slithering its way into your brain, but neither of you did anything more. That small gesture was more than enough, and it was comforting you in ways you couldn't even describe.

- I feel like I'm a burden... Like I only take and take from you... - you closed your eyes because it was the only way to break eye contact without putting space in between your foreheads.

- You could never be a burden to me, no matter what... - he whispered so quietly, that if you were just a bit further away, you wouldn't be able to hear it, but you did... And it sounded like something he was afraid to admit even in front of himself, not to mention you. You opened your eyes again, wanting to gaze into his, but they were closed. You wanted to ask why he said that, but you already knew the answer... And you definitely weren't ready to hear it from his mouth...

- It's Friday today, isn't it...? - you asked, and you felt him nodding. - And you're not working on weekends, correct?

- We can stay here, that won't be an issue. - he said, his voice more confident.

- That's not why I'm asking... Can... - you couldn't believe what you were about to say. - Can you take me to your place...? - his eyes shot open, and he leaned back in shock.

- God yes! - he answered with relief before you even finished asking the question. - Don't get me wrong, I enjoy having you here, but everything is... - before you realized what you were doing, you leaned in and kissed him, stopping his rant in its tracks.

Your hand instinctively found its way into his hair, while the other rested lightly on his shoulder. Suddenly you were aware of everything your body experienced... The rough material under your fingers, the smoothness of his hair, the warmth of his neck, the softness of his lips, so ready to invite you in… And you dove deep, without even thinking; chasing the sensation that was both new and familiar. Your heart was galloping faster and faster with every tender touch, the warmth in your chest turned into a roaring fire and your head was among the clouds because, with every breath you shared, you got higher and higher.

He was devouring you in ways you never thought possible, his hands pulling you closer by your hips. He was frantic and delicate at the same time as if he was restraining himself in fear of somehow hurting you, but you didn't want that... You wanted him to be real, to know who and what he was like under this hard shell he shared with the world, so you bit his lower lip and pulled on it gently, a soft smile blooming on your face. He responded with a low growl, followed your movements, and caught you in another kiss, this time more impatient, more hungry, more... messy... And you gave right in, allowing him to lead the dance your tongues shared until you were properly out of breath. But even after your lips parted, your skin was tingling all over, and there was that feeling in your stomach again, while so many colors flooded your brain.

- I need to ask you to do things for me more often... - you finally broke the silence, and he chuckled in response.

- Yeah, it was definitely worth the wait... - he was still kneeling on the floor in between your legs, and you didn't even realize when your ankles found their way around his thighs.

- How long have you been waiting for it... exactly...? - you asked in a joking matter, pressing your foreheads together again in search of the echo of that intimacy.

- I plead the 5th... - he laughed softly in response, but you knew one day he'll tell you everything, but now he was still afraid you would run away if you knew. - Fuck, I feel like a teenager again. - he moved one of his hands to your cheek and gently caressed your skin with his thumb, and you leaned into that touch.

- And I feel more like myself... - you put your hand over his, and moved it slowly, so you could press a soft kiss on his palm. - Can we go now...? - you asked, completely disregarding the fact that you were still wearing the clothes you’d slept in.

- We can. - he pressed a soft kiss to your lips; an echo of passion was still audible in his actions. It didn't take you long to get ready, because you didn't have a lot of things with you, and everything - including the things Beau got for you - fit into your bag. You had to change into your own pants, because you didn't want to walk outside in shorts, or much too big sweatpants, but you kept his gray t-shirt, throwing your dad's jacket over it. When you started searching for your shoes, Cyclone reached for them under the bed, where he left them that first night, he brought you here. But before you were able to put them on yourself, he gently pushed you to sit on the bed, put them on your feet, and laced them tightly for you. He also offered you his hand when he finished, to help you get up. Not that you needed help, but you enjoyed touching him in any way you could, and he seemed to feel the same way.

You wanted to hold his hand while you walked through the corridors, but you knew it would be seen as inappropriate, so you just put up the hood of the jacket and put on the aviators to make yourself less recognizable, although you seriously doubted that it would work if you encountered someone you knew. And fortunately, gods spared you that awkwardness because you hated lying.

You were a bit surprised when the car that reacted to his keys was Jeep Wrangler because you were expecting something more... classic. Not that you were complaining, it was just... unexpected, but considering how little you actually knew about him, you had a lot of catching up to do.

You wanted to curl up in the front seat, but you didn't want to put your shoes on the breathable material, so you sat there, feeling a little bit like a kid, but in a good way. You weren't exactly used to following rules, even the simplest ones, which was surprising to most people who knew your dad from the military.

As soon as you started voicing your opinions, you and Nicky were able to defend your point of view in front of your parents, and if your arguments were sound, you were able to proceed with whatever you had planned; they allowed you to make your own mistakes and learn from them just so you'd be prepared for the hardships of the real world. And even though they didn't always agree with your choices, they respected both of you enough not to force you onto a certain path they imagined for you.

And while your brother went into a more... conventional direction with software engineering and app development, you craved too much freedom for any typical career. And when you discovered painting... Well, everything else was history. You had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously at first, but after the 4th competition won, your father realized that it wasn't just a fluke, and there was a real possibility for you to achieve a lot, even though he didn’t completely understand it. In the end, he was the one who started doing research about fine art colleges, and internships before you were even done with high school. And when you had your first exhibit, he was the one who cheered you the loudest and invited all his friends from the navy, because he wanted to show off his little girl.

And then you realized something... You were able to think about your dad without going into a complete spiral for the first time in ages, and you couldn't help but smile. It was a small thing, but it meant that you were slowly getting back to normal, and that was something that gave you an unimaginable amount of peace.

- Do you want to swing by your house to get something? - Beau asked, and you had to think for a moment before replying.

- House no... - you finally said; you weren't ready to face whatever was waiting for you there. - But my studio... - you looked at him and he just nodded.

- What's the address? - you gave it to him, and he adjusted the route accordingly.

It didn't take you long to actually get there, but you were a little bit afraid to get out of the car and walk up three flights of stairs. And then you realized that you haven't even asked.

- Would it be ok if I painted at your house...? - your voice got almost completely drowned in traffic noises.

- You can do whatever you want in my house. - he replied with a soft smile, and he meant what he said. - Do you want me to come with you? - he wanted to help, but he didn't want to impose. You shook your head for no; you knew how your studio looked and you weren't ready to share that with him just yet, even though he already knew your life at the moment was messy. - If you'll change your mind, I'm here... - he hesitated for a short moment, but he eventually took your hand into his and brought it to his lips to place a small kiss on the back of it, and it gave you enough courage to face whatever was waiting for you upstairs.

You tried not to look around too much while grabbing your gym bag from the closet, because you were afraid that you might start to spiral again, but fortunately, you managed to avoid that. You packed a few more sets of underwear, a pair of shorts, and leggings. In a moment of boldness, you skipped shirts and t-shirts, because his gave you much more comfort than your own, and you were planning on continuing wearing them. You also packed your hair and face cosmetics, and that was it from necessities, but it wasn't everything you packed...

You also took a ceramic pot you used to brew your tea in, the tea itself, your favorite mug made by one of your friends, and a small cat figurine you didn't even plan on taking out of the bag when you were at his place because just the knowledge of having it with you was comforting.

Next, you took a big canvas bag and started throwing brushes, sponges, rollers, different types of paints and inks, primers, varnish, and all the other things you needed to paint and prepare a canvas. The last thing you took, were thin wooden slats you made frames out of, to stretch the canvas on, and the roll of the canvas itself; it was much easier to travel with it deconstructed, and you didn't know what size you'd need just yet. You quickly left your apartment without looking at everything too much, and you carefully walked down the stairs. When you opened the building doors, you saw Beau standing next to the car, ready to help, if you needed it. You didn't, but just looking at him made you smile.

He took your bags from you, put them in the back, and opened the door of the car for you, and before you knew it, you were crossing a border to the gated community he apparently lived in. All the houses here looked... new. And expensive. And not at all like something you were used to.

He eventually stopped in front of a big suburban house with a double garage door in front. It looked like it had at least four bedrooms, which was - again - surprising.

- Do you... live... alone? - you asked while the doors to the garage were opening, because you just assumed that he did, but you didn't know for sure.

- Yeah... - he sighed. - I know it's a giant house for one person, but I've bought it quite some time ago when I still hoped to start a family... Work kind of got in the way somewhere along the way. - he explained - I honestly admire your father for managing to... - he realized what he said, and his eyes instantly snapped to you in search of signs that something was wrong, but there were none.

- Honestly, it was rough... I remember I learn how to count by counting the nights he was away, and the highest I got was 303 when he was deployed. - you said quietly, a weak smile on your face. - When I was a kid, I always put him on a pedestal, but when I learned more about the world and wars... Well, let's just say that our relationship wasn't always perfect, and it took a lot of therapy to get us to... well... to get us where you saw us. - you explained quietly, leaving Beau a little bit speechless. Neither of you said anything when he was parking, but he helped you with your things.

It was weird, because on the one hand, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be, but on the other, you felt a bit like you were intruding, especially when he gave you a quick tour of his house. It was much more modern than you expected, and it lacked... him. As if someone else decorated the house to what they thought a bachelor would like. That was until you got to the main bedroom, and you instantly felt the warmth spilling in your chest.

The bed was massive with dark grey and navy sheets, but it wasn't the main feature of the room, because it was facing a wall filled with books from top to bottom, and the ceiling was high. You couldn't stop yourself from coming closer to check out the titles and run your fingers over the spines. You noticed that they were segregated by genre and in the genre - by the author's last name, which didn't surprise you. What surprised you was the fact that there were quite a few high fantasy books, which caught your attention, and when you turned around to ask, the words got stuck in your throat as soon as you laid your eyes on him.

Technically it wasn't anything special, because he looked exactly the same as he looked over the whole time you knew him, but something changed... He was still in his beige uniform, which shirt you buttoned up in the morning, and to which you attached his ribbons. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed on his chest, but his eyes and the way he looked at you... It almost made you blush because you never saw that expression on his face... The corners of his lips raised slightly in a gentle smile, cheeks just a bit higher, making those beautiful smile lines in the corners of his eyes, and the eyes... You instantly relaxed, and it was an involuntary reaction. Was it even possible to develop such strong feelings so quickly, or was it just a weird reaction to your grief? Will you ever be able to tell...?

- You can take anything you want... - he said, and something in his voice told you he didn't mean it just about books, but you left that as it was. Before you'd have that conversation, you will have to come to terms with whatever was happening in your own head. - I'm going to make dinner. - he said, but you stopped him with a gesture and walked closer to him.

You gently unpinned first the wings, then the ribbon rack, and he realized what you were doing; you were home... He wasn't supposed to be in uniform at home... Well, it wasn't forbidden, but he realized that you wanted him to leave the navy behind closed doors for the weekend, and somehow you managed you fit so many things into such a small gesture... That you wanted him to relax, that you wanted to know him better outside of work, that you were taking the exact amount of initiative you were ready for, that he wasn't forcing you into anything, that you were comfortable enough with him to know that even now, when you were slowly unbuttoning his shirt, he wouldn't assume anything. You were showing him that you trusted him without saying one word...

When you got to the lower buttons, you had to gently tug on the material to get it out from the inside of his trousers, and the movement caused his very subtle scent to surround you, which made you smile just a little.

Under the button-up, there was a white t-shirt. You very slowly slipped your hands under it, letting your fingers graze his skin and chest hair, while he was watching your every move with inhuman intensity. When the material rode up high enough, he helped you pull it over his head, but you were the one to take it off completely.

- How do you do this...? - you asked with your hands still on his chest. - How do you make me feel so safe and so calm...? - neither of you knew that, so the question hung unanswered and then he covered your hand with his.

- Does it matter...? - he eventually answered with another question, and after thinking for a moment you shook your head. - Then it doesn't matter, but I'm happy I can do that for you. - he moved your hand to his lips and place a soft kiss on it. - Would you mind if we ate in the garden today? I feel like grilling something... - it wasn't the warmest of days, but it was still the end of the summer, and there were always blankets. Plus - fresh air would do you good.

He went to the walk-in closet and quickly changed, while you were acutely studying everything that was in it. Which if you had to be honest - wasn't much and barely half of it was filled. But you still clocked one item that you instantly gravitated towards - an old gray hoodie with a washed-out naval academy logo. You run your fingers over the material and smiled. He said that you could take anything you wanted... So you did. You pulled it off the hanger and put it on. It was much softer on the inside than on the outside, the sleeves were too long, it reached halfway down your thighs and the hood covered your entire face... It was perfect.

Beau was the one who gently pulled the hood back, so you could see and for a brief moment, his hand rested on your cheek... He was so gentle with you, but you knew it wasn't because he was afraid that you would break; you were used to this type of behavior from different people, but he... He was just gentle. And soft. And warm... Without any specific reason.

You didn't even have to ask for a blanket, because he already had one prepared when you stepped onto the back porch. It wasn't anything special... Well, there was a currently covered pool, and a fire pit, but when it came to plants... there was almost nothing, and you felt a little bit disappointed, but that was your own fault because when he mentioned the garden, you were expecting at least a few trees and maybe a veggie patch... And some flowers... But that was your problem, not his. He was already kind enough to take you in.

Still wrapped in a thick blanket, you chose to sit on the swing with your knees curled up and a sketchbook in your hands, while he was preparing food a few meters away from you, and you honestly could get used to that... You were happy to just observe him, but after a few minutes a compulsion to draw won, so you cracked the spine of a brand-new sketchbook he bought for you and started sketching.

His face was already committed to your memory forever, so it wasn't hard for you to do a quick outline of the proportions, and after that you cleaned it a bit, looking at Beau from time to time, even though you didn't need to... But you wanted to... You slowly added more details, starting with hair, but they weren't neatly combed like they were now. You used the image from your head, from when he was in bed with you after taking a shower at night; they had much more volume and suited him more in your opinion. Next came the nose, which took you only a minute, but his lips... You spent so much time looking at them and thinking about them, that even the tiniest details were carved in your memory, and you took your time pouring them out on paper because you wanted to do them justice. And lastly - his eyes and everything around them... You had to close yours for a moment to recall and analyze the expression he looked at you with only half an hour ago...

Just as you were finishing, the smell of something cooking hit your nostrils, and you peeked at what he was doing. On a special plate on the grill, there were potatoes with some herbs, bell peppers, onions... And even though you couldn't see it, you could smell it, so you knew somewhere in there, there was also garlic and rosemary. As if he could feel your gaze on him, he turned around catching you in the act and looking at you with the exact same expression that was looking at you from your sketchbook.

You turned the page in his direction, but from his perspective, the light pencil was barely visible, so he came closer, and you passed the notebook to him, so he could take a closer look.

- That's not... - he started, but quickly stopped and thought about what he really meant. - I don't think I've ever seen myself looking like that... - it took him a moment to react.

- That's what I see when you look at me... - you simply shrugged and he shifted his gaze back to you, as if unsure what to say. There were a few minutes of silence before he spoke again, this time much quieter.

- Am I that obvious...? - his voice was almost a whisper as if he was afraid that anything louder would shatter the moment.

- It's... complicated. - you sighed. - And I promise we will talk about it, but I am not ready for that conversation yet, it's too soon. But I... - you hesitated. - I don't want to be anywhere but with you. For now, it will have to be enough, I'm sorry that I can't give you more... - the last part was barely audible.

- You have nothing to apologize for because you don't have to give me anything... - he passed the still-opened sketchbook back to you and you couldn't help but look at your drawing again. - And when you're ready - we will talk. - he didn't even have to say that he was more than ok with waiting, because you were definitely worth any wait. - But first - food. - you technically weren't even hungry, but you knew you should eat... And with Beau cooking, it would be extremely hard to say no without poking a hole in your bag of issues. Plus - logically you knew your body needed it, so you didn't protest when he brought you a dark blue plate with chicken and veggies cut to bite-size pieces even before cooking.

He sat on the swing next to you and very gently started moving it using just one of his legs.

- What's your favorite ice cream flavor? - you asked right after you swallowed the first piece of roasted potato and he looked at you with surprise, but as soon as he realized what you were doing, he shifted a bit, so now his body was facing you, and you did the same.

- Hazelnut... But it's followed closely by salted caramel. You? - he replied and now it was his turn to take a bite.

- Lemon sherbet with basil... - you usually had to make it on your own, because there weren't many companies that carried that specific flavor.

- That's a bit unusual... - he couldn't help but smile, but he wasn't even surprised, because nothing about you was usual. - What kind of music do you like? - this time he asked the question.

- Just... Music... It really depends on my mood. I have hundreds of playlists I've made over the years, so it would be hard for me to choose just one of them. - you took a small break to eat a few pieces of veggies. - Although I focus more on the song itself than on the creator. And sure, there are a few that I'd enjoy no matter what, like House of the Rising Sun or Work Song, but overall - my music taste is all over the place. - your throat still hurt a bit from the screaming earlier today, but not enough to stop you from talking.

- If you let me, I'd love to hear a few of your playlists. Do you have them on Apple Music? - he asked, and you chuckled.

- Spotify. We're an android house because of my lovely brother. - Beau was really easy to talk to and you found yourself wanting to do it more often, and since you were already in his house, it should be easy to do.

- Nicholas? - he made sure he remembered the name correctly, and you realized that you weren't even sure if the two of them ever met.

- Nick. Or Nicky... - you corrected, because your brother hated the full version of his name with a passion, and Beau only nodded once, acknowledging the change. - Do you have any siblings? - you couldn't help but ask and he sighed heavily.

- Yeaaahhhh... Four sisters. One older, and three younger. - you weren't sure what you were expecting, but it wasn't this, and you almost choked.

- That's... - you didn't even know what to say.

- A lot? - he offered, and you nodded. - My father wanted another son after me and well... It didn't go according to plan. - he chuckled.

- Would you mind telling me a bit more about your family? - and he did. He started with his older sister and their rocky relationship due to their parents giving him more attention, and then he moved down, telling you about how he always felt responsible for the younger ones, how he played with them and braided their hair, and how he felt guilty leaving them behind when he joined the navy.

And you listened to his stories from childhood until your plate was empty, and when it was, you put it on the floor next to the swing, brought your knees to your chest, and just... listened. It was your turn to get to know him, since he had a substantial head start in that department, and you were happy to learn every little detail he was willing to share.

The sun was already hidden behind the horizon, and you couldn't help but look around the... so-called garden, and he immediately saw that someone was bugging you.

- What's wrong? - he asked quietly, reaching to touch you, and as soon as his fingers were on your calf, you moved closer to him and awkwardly turned around, draping the blanket over both of you. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer, happy to share some warmth with you.

- Nothing's wrong... - you said, and it wasn't a lie. - There are just a few things I miss, and when you said you had a garden... I just miss nature. - you didn't want to add why exactly you missed it, but to Beau - it was obvious. - It's so quiet here... We're outside, but there are no frogs, no bugs buzzing around, no crickets in the background, no nothing... Well, besides a few moths and mosquitos. - you could feel him chuckle behind you. - And please don't get it the wrong way, I'm extremely happy to be here with you, and it's just something I miss.

- It's ok... I understand what you mean. - he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. - It's... sterile, a blank canvas. - and that was exactly what you meant, so you couldn't help but look back at him. - I'm not spending much time here... Sure, it's my house, but it was decorated by someone else because I didn't have time to do it myself. I paid someone to design the backyard in such a way, that it wouldn't require much maintenance, because I knew I wouldn't have time to take care of it. I always imagined that one day it will change, but... - he didn't have to finish, because you knew what he was about to say... If not for your mother, your house would have white walls and barely any decorations.

- The bedroom... - you whispered, and it suddenly made sense. - You decorated it yourself, didn't you...? - you asked, but you already knew the answer even before he nodded. That’s why you felt so safe and comfortable there; the one room he actually took time to work on.

You yawned, the exhaustion from today finally catching up with you; you knew it would be a while before you'll be at full strength again, but you felt safe enough not to rush that process.

- Do you want to go to sleep...? - he asked quietly.

- Mhmmm... But shower first... - you mumbled in response, but you didn't move to get up just yet, which made him smile. He pressed his cheek against your head, a plan for tomorrow slowly taking shape in his head. It would take him a moment to prepare everything, but it will be worth it.

- Go then... I'll clean around here and join you when I'll finish. - and with a quiet groan you finally started moving. Still wrapped in the soft blanket that now smelled like smoke, you went upstairs to the bedroom, where all your things were.

His shower was abysmally giant, almost a completely separate room with a rain shower and a bench to sit on. He already prepared a set of soft, dark blue towels for you, which you put to good use. You also neatly placed your things on the side of the counter, so they would be within reach, but not in the way. Technically there were two sinks, one completely empty, but... it just didn't feel right.

You peeked out of the bathroom to see if he was already in the bedroom, but it was empty, so you felt more comfortable sneaking into his walk-in wardrobe in just a towel tightly wrapped around your body. You gravitated towards the back of the room, where the older, more worn things were, and you unceremoniously took a black t-shirt with the logo of a band you didn't recognize and put it on. It was so soft against your skin, that you closed your eyes, relishing that sensation.

Since he wasn't in the room just yet, you picked one of the titles from the high fantasy section and started reading it in bed, but the warmth from the shower, and the fact that everywhere you looked, you could feel him, made you doze off before you realized what was happening.

It took Beau over an hour to prepare everything for tomorrow; he even dug through the decoration boxes in the garage to find the fairy lights he usually used to decorate his nieces’ room whenever they visited. The food for tomorrow was already prepared in the fridge, and everything else he would need was already packed.

When he came into the bedroom, you were already asleep, curled around one of his books. He gently took it out of your hands, put it on the nightstand, and turned the lamp off, so the light wouldn't interfere with your sleep.

He took a very quick shower, taking notice of the small trail of things you left in the bathroom with a smile; you were in his house for just a few hours, and he already loved everything about it. It was like you were meant to be there like you fit perfectly into empty spaces in his life.

Curiosity won, and he couldn't help but smell and read the labels of the creams and other things you were using, so he'd be better prepared next time you needed anything like that.

When he finally lay in bed and turned the lights off, he couldn't help the quiet groan. It's not like the beds on base were unreasonably uncomfortable, but he missed his own, even if that meant you were a bit further away. He didn't want to wake you up or assume anything, but as soon as he let out that groan, you started to shift in your sleep. For a short moment, he was afraid he woke you up, but he didn't; you were still sound asleep. But that didn't stop you from shuffling under the giant duvet in search of something, and as soon as your hand blindly found his torso, you let out a deeper breath and pulled yourself even closer to his body, which resulted in a giant smile on his face... even subconsciously you wanted to be near him...

So, he wrapped his arms around you and finally closed his eyes. He wasn't ready to fall asleep just yet; it was too early for that for him, but he just wanted to enjoy that moment of vulnerability with you. 

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

[lieutenantfloyd]

Lieutenantfloyd's Masterlist

So, it's finally time for me to an accessible on both mobile and desktop. I know many people (myself included) prefer to read on mobile devices, so this will allow that to be done a whole lot easier. This will replace my old mobile masterlists, but my regular (desktop) masterlists will remain up and be as i post.

Because Tumblr has an embedded link limit, This masterlist only includes my posts for Top Gun, Dune, Tom Cruise, Call of Duty, Elvis Presley, Outer Range, Masters of the Air, and Marvel. My posts for other fandoms can be found here.

If a link is broken or I've missed something, please let me know!

Last Updated: November 8th, 2024 // Guidelines — Askbox

As always, The work(s) on this blog (unless otherwise explicitly stated) are/were written by and belong to me. The stealing, copying, reposting, or unauthorized downloading of my work(s), as well as the works of others, is considered plagiarism. I do not permit anyone to repost, copy, or download my work(s). Banner credit to cafekitsune !

Top Gun

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Fics:

The Double Proposal

Family relations

Headcanons:

SFW alphabet

Slow dancing with rooster would include

Sleep headcanons

Tickling headcanons

Robert 'Bob' Floyd

Fics:

Don’t Cry Over Spilled Beer

Darling You Send Me, Honest You Do

Halloween imagine

Headcanons:

SFW alphabet

domestic life as bobs pretty little housewife would include

Misc Bob headcanons

Moodboards:

Christmas with Bob

Springtime with Bob

Domestic life with Bob

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Fics:

Dancing In The Dark, Alight by Fire

Halloween Imagine

Homegrown

Headcanons:

misc Hangman headcanons

SFW alphabet

Moodboards:

Soft! aesthetic

New Years Eve

Small town romance

Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson

Fics:

Everything, Everything, and the Search for Reclamation

Hold Me, Flatter me

Halloween imagine

Wintering together + falling in love (original ask/prompt)

Rainbow Cereal and Morning Confessions

Headcanons:

misc Cyclone headcanons

Dad! Cyclone (+ Wife! reader) headcanons

SFW alphabet

NSFW alphabet *18+ Only*

dating an autistic!Reader would include

Helping you avoid a meltdown

Dating headcanons

Childhood headcanons

Moodboards:

Wintering together

Pumpkin patch

Pete “Maverick’ Mitchell

Fics:

A Bad Day for Love (But a Good Day for Flower Shops)

Halloween imagine

Headcanons:

SFW alphabet

NSFW alphabet *18+ Only*

Moodboards:

Christmas with Mav

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace

Headcanons:

Phoenix as your girlfriend

Moodboards:

Vacationing together

Springtime with Phoenix

Mickey 'fanboy' Garcia

Headcanons:

Fanboy as your S/O

Javy 'Coyote' Machado

Headcanons:

SFW alphabet

Moodboards:

Domestic life

Ron 'Slider' Kerner

Fics:

Rebel Yell *18+ Only*

Headcanons:

sfw alphabet

Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Headcanons:

Dating headcanons

Series

When Duty Calls - Cyclone x reader

The Little Things - Dagger Squad + Cyclone x reader [complete]

Playlists:

*Shoulder Shimmy* - Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Love Notes and Vinyl - Robert “Bob” Floyd

Red Hot Blooded American - Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Rebel Without a Cause - Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

Heatwave - Ron “Slider” Kerner

Strawberry Wine - Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe

Summer at Fightertown USA

General Headcanons + Moodboards:

Top Gun characters as (non alcoholic) drinks

Where I think Top Gun characters grew up

Music Top Gun characters would listen to

The Dagger squad plays laser tag

Rooster and Cyclone's kids' being best friends - AU

What i think Top Gun characters order at a coffee shop

Top Gun: Maverick as chaotic romantic texts

Summer with the Dagger Squad (Moodboard)

Other:

Departure - icemav

Incorrect quotes

DUNE

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

Fics:

Creature *18+ Only*

Crawl *sequel to Creature*

Headcanons:

Competing for your affection (Feyd-Rautha & Rabban x reader)

Gurney Halleck

Fics:

Narrow Honor

Stilgar

Fics:

Nectar *18+ Only*

Headcanons:

Jealous headcanons

Glossu Rabban

Headcanons:

Competing for your affection (Feyd-Rautha & Rabban x reader)

Other

Preferences:

How they react to you suddenly kissing them

How they react to your arranged marriage

Deadpool (Movieverse)

Gambit

Fics:

My Red Thread

Southern Gothic! Gambit (Drabble)

Deadpool

Fics:

Pizza Hut and Silent Observation (Also Known as Stalking)

Moodboards:

Dating him

Wolverine

Moodboards:

Dating him

Other

Preferences/headcanons:

How they react when you’re on your period

Tom Cruise

Fics:

In Demand - Tom Cruise x reader x Jon Hamm

Moodboards:

Being an F1 driver and dating him

Elvis Presley

Fics:

Casting Spells

Headcanons:

SFW relationship headcanons

NSFW alphabet *18+ Only*

Outer Range

Royal Abbott

Fics:

Something Domestic

Masters of the Air

Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal

Fics:

Love is a mystery

[nykie-love-anime]

Day 5 ~ Celebration

It’s your anniversary 4 years and you decided to celebrate it by going to the aquarium you have always wanted to go to. Going off on Jon Hamm’s age which is 52. Reader is 34.

“Come on Y/N we are going to be late.” You hear Beau yell from downstairs. “Keeps you pants on old man I am almost done.” You teasingly yelled back. “You weren’t saying that last night, now were you Hun.” He teased back and all you could do is smirk at the memories of last night, you really could not get enough of each other as he was promoted to Admiral yesterday. “Okay you got me there.” You started walking down the stairs with a smile. “You know I just love teasing you. I love being with you. Even if you are old.” You cackled at the look on his face. “I love being with you too baby girl.” The handsome man replied with a smirk.

“You know if we weren’t so late already I would have taken you over my knee right here on this couch.” He grinned and you gasped. “Damn I was looking so forward to that.” You giggled and he just shake his head. “Maybe if we get back you can have me anyway you like.” He pulled you into a breath taking kiss and smirked when you quietly moaned into his mouth before pulling away.

“Okay now that all the kinky shit is out of the way. Let’s go I really wanna see the penguin show, Bradley was there the other day with Natasha and little Nick and they loved the show. They said we can even pet the dolphins after their show so we are definitely doing that.” You giggled racing towards the front door causing Cyclone to laugh at your eagerness and at the look on your face is just doing wonders for what he has planned. “Even Hangman enjoyed it.” You continued grabbing Beau’s keys running towards the car jumping in while he loaded the picnic basket into the back of his boot.

“Is that so.” He questions with a loving look on his face. “Yeah I believe Jake said he got to pet the dolphins and they got him all wet.” He listened to you talk starting the car and reversing out of the garage. “Now wouldn’t that be super fun oh I love you for having this idea for our anniversary.” You smiled at the man you love. “Well I had a little bit of help from you father.” He retorted. “He knows you are a fan of the aquarium and with the last couple of months that has been stressful and rough I decided we need to have a bit of a break.” You grinned as he kissed you quickly at the red light.

“Oh wow. Look at all the colourful fish.” You looked amazed at the scene before you and Beau chuckled. “Hey look there is Dory, Marlin and Nemo.” You squealed like an excited kid on their first field trip pointing, at the smaller tank. “Ahh they are so cute.” You giggled and Beau pulled you into a side hug. “They are cute Y/N, but not as cute as you.” He flirted and you blushed. “Well mister Simpson keep talking like that and I might combust right this instant.” You smiled shyly up at him and he grinned.

“Let’s go a bit forward I think the tunnel is in front of us.” He pointed to the front and he pulled you along with him. Stopping as you reach the mouth of the tunnel and all you can do was gasp at the view in front of you. Looking around you are met with coral and stingrays on the one side and different types of fish on the other. You turned to look at Beau to say you love him again but you cut yourself off as he drops to one knee.  

“Y/N/N I’m so grateful for every second we have spent together and will spend together in the future. I’m grateful that we met. I’m grateful that somehow in this crazy universe with infinite possibilities, destiny paved the way so we could see each other at the right time, at the right place, in the right moment. Even if that that place was the Hard Deck with your dad kicking my ass at pool.” He smiled down as you chuckled at the memory with tears starting to form. “So many things could have happened to keep us from existing together. Yet we met and started something so beautifully wonderful. I’m grateful for us and I never want to let you go.”

“I know it sounds cliche but I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. Even when your dad threaten to shoot down my plane when he found out about our first date.” Again you could only giggle. “Not the love that people talk about. But an unexplained attraction, a feeling of home, an urge that I need to talk to you at the end of each day and to make you mine forever. All I know is what we’ve shared since the moment we met is special and meant to be preserved. Your presence alone has made my life so beautiful. If there’s happiness and laughter in my life, I owe it all to you.” He looked up at you with tears forming in his eyes.

“I only want two things in this world right now. I want you and I want us. Will you be mine? Please do me the honour and let me call you my wife.” He concluded and you started nodding as he pulled the ring out of the box. “Yes, yes of course I will marry you. I love you so, so much I also can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” You cried pulling him up and quickly pulled him into a hug hearing cheers around you. Pulling away from Cyclone you are met with you dad and Penny and the rest of the dagger squad and their families.

You smiled at the people around you as they clapped hands as Beau pulled you in for a quick kiss. “Congratulations man.” Warlock pulled Beau into a quick hug patting him on the back before turning to you and congratulating you as well. “Congrats baby, you are going to be the most beautiful bride.” Your father smiled turning towards Cyclone. “Just because you are an Admiral now doesn’t mean I won’t still shoot you down if you hurt my little girl.” Pete threatened and you just groaned. “Seriously dad.” “Seriously Pete.” Penny looked at her husband and just shake her head before pulling you and Cyclone into a hug.

“Congratulations you guys, I have no doubt that this will be a wonderful marriage filled with so much love.” Penny said with a smile. “Thanks Pen, I love you.” “Love you too sweetie.” She pulled Mav away scolding the man and he just apologised with a small smile. As the rest of the squad congratulated you guys and they gushed about your beautiful ring.

For the rest of the day you spend it having fun with your fiancé and the rest of your friends and family. Thankfully you made it just in time for the penguin show along with the dolphin show. Now that was a fun experience. You have never felt so loved before than that day. You would not exchange it for anything in the world. After the trip Penny and your dad invited you guys and the group of friends and family for a barbeque where you guys had just as much fun.

Day 4 | Masterlist | Day 6

Used this link for the proposal scene lines/speech