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hopefullhearts · 3 months ago

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Sickeningly Sweet [Scott Miller x Reader - Twisters]

summary: You are Tyler Owens' childhood best friend and member of his storm chasing crew. A storm outbreak means you and the gang cross paths with Storm Par on more than one occasion, and your sweet southern charm drives Scott crazy (in more than one way).

content warnings: somewhat heated kissing, no use of y/n, light name-calling/teasing, not proofread/bad writing (I have not written a fanfic in forever), bad taste in candy, & i think that is all!

word count: 3.5k

a/n: I have not written or posted on tumblr in SO long but I saw Twisters for the glenn powell craze and left with a scott/david corenswet obsession and these thoughts must come out of my head.

Shoutout to @hederasgarden and @sailor-aviator for leading the charge for the Scott girlies. All of their writings and drabbles inspired me to write this one, so check them out!

If people like this I might do a smutty part 2! I don't mind writing smut I just feel like it's not very good hahaha but let me know what you think!

You heavily resented the idea that guys and girls could not just be friends, because you'd be damned if Tyler Owens wasn't the best friend you ever had.

You met on the playground in Kindergarten. A boy pushed you off a swing, Tyler defended your honor, and the rest was history.

Tyler's overprotective streak made you view him like the brother you never had, and that's how your relationship remained. He was family, and that was that.

Tyler had always been interested in tornadoes, more specifically, how to track and predict them. You, on the other hand, hated science, including weather, but you loved the thrill of the chase.

In college, you studied marketing while Tyler studied meteorology. So, when Tyler had the idea to start streaming his storm chases, you were right there with him to help grow his brand.

Tyler knows he would be stupid not to credit you with all his success. You set up his streaming account, you edited all the clips and drone footage to post to his social media after the fact, and you even gave him the idea for the "Tornado Wrangler" nickname.

Now that everything was off the ground, you mostly put together streaming highlights and designed the merch, but you were right there in the backseat for every single chase, soaking up all the thrills.

This particular storm outbreak was expected to be a big one, so the whole crew strapped in for a week of bad weather, cheap motel rooms, and of course, a few run-ins with other chasers, including the guys from Storm Par.

"Storm Par's here." You said, gesturing to the fleet of white vans parked at the gas station you had just pulled up to.

"Of course they are." Tyler sighed. "There's probably going to be a lot of damage done by these storms for them to swoop in on. Just ignore them."

"No, we should be polite." You chastised him. "I'm gonna go say hi. Will you get me a cherry coke please?"

Tyler fought back an eye-roll, but nodded with a smile as you both got out of the car. "Of course."

Like everyone else in the crew, the Storm Par guys got on your last nerve. They were all a bunch of Ivy League grads who thought a more expensive degree made them better than everyone else.

However, being raised by your Mama, the epitome of Southern grace and charm, you always put a smile on your face and treated them with kindness. You even occasionally brought them food or coffee if you ran into them in the aftermath of a storm.

And even though you were blissfully unaware of the fact, this drove Scott absolutely mad.

"Hi Scott, Javi." You said cheerfully to the two boys in charge.

Scott replied with a grunt, but Javi was quick to greet you with genuine enthusiasm. "Hey! How are you?"

"I'm doing well." You nodded, smoothing your hands over your athleisure skirt. "Excited for a good chase today. How about you guys?"

"Us too." Javi nodded. "We're hoping to finally get some solid data collection today."

"Ah." You nodded, unsure what to say. You hated the idea of what they were collecting data for, but Javi seemed like a nice enough guy, and Tyler ripped on them enough for the both of you.

"Something on your mind there, princess?" Scott finally spoke, glancing away from his tablet to look down on you (literally and figuratively).

You rolled your eyes. While you would normally love to be called a princess, it always sounded like an insult coming from Scott, his voice always laced with a touch of venom.

"No, nothing at all." You smiled. "Just wondering if we'll see you guys in the aftermath if there's any damage done?"

"Why? Are you looking to increase your t-shirt sales?"

You bit your tongue, doing your best to hold your composure and not let him get to you.

"Nope, just trying to figure out if we need to make some extra to-go boxes for you guys." You decided to focus your gaze on Javi instead, finding him less intimidating.

Javi opened his mouth to speak, but Scott beat him to the punch. "I think we can find food on our own, thanks."

You took a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. "Okay, well, the offer always stands if you change your mind."

Javi smiled and nodded. "As much as I want to see a good storm today, let's hope we don't have a ton of damage clean up."

You smiled. You knew he had a heart.

"That's something we both can agree on." You grinned. "Stay safe out there you guys!"

With that, you turned and walked away. Scott watched you go, your hair and skirt blowing side to side in the wind.

"Stay safe out there you guys." Scott mocked you under his breath.

"Yo, you don't always have to be a jerk to her, you know."

Scott gave him an unamused look. "She comes out here with her little boyfriend, selling his t-shirts and shit, and then skips over here like we're the best of friends with her thick southern accent. It's all fake."

"For one, I don't think Owens is her boyfriend." Javi corrected. "And two, I think she's just a genuinely nice person. She always says hello, even when everyone else in their crew ignores us like the plague."

"Whatever." Scott mumbled.

As you reached the truck, you took the ice-cold Coca-Cola bottle from Tyler's outstretched hand.

"Thank you!" You said excitedly, twisting the cap off to take a sip.

"How are dumb and dumber?" Tyler teased.

"Javi was nice." You informed him. "Scott was... there."

"Ah, yes." Tyler laughed. "Word on the street is he's a man of many words."

"Right." You agreed sarcastically. "But, when he does speak to me, he always calls me princess, and it drives me crazy."

"In what way?" Tyler said, failing to hold back a smirk.

It took you a moment to realize what he was implying, but when you did, you were mortified,

"Tyler Owens!" You gasped, your face flushing red with embarrassment.

""I'm just teasing you! You make it too easy." He laughed loudly. "In my defense, he looks like exactly like every boyfriend you've ever had."

Your face got even warmer, because he was exactly right. You had a weakness for tall, muscular, dark-haired men, and you especially loved a man who was a challenge.

"That is...irrelevant." You said, covering your face in your hands out of pure embarrassment.

Tyler held his hands up in surrender, as you rushed to talk about anything but Scott. "Let's just figure out what storm we're going after, you jerk." You insulted Tyler, but the smile on your face was ear to ear.

Scott watched the interaction from afar, and his chest twisted at your sickeningly sweet smile. Even if you weren't Owens' girlfriend, your closeness was evident. He ignored the burning feeling that was rising within him, not wanting to question why it was there in the first place.

Tornadoes were scary, but trying to understand how he felt about you? Terrifying.

"Alright, boss man, which storm are we chasing?" Javi pulled him out of his thoughts with a hand clapped on his shoulder, and he finally pulled his gaze away from your smile, the sound of your laughter fading into the background.

The storm was bad.

It hit a small town of about 3,000 people, and you estimated based on the initial damage scene that it was an EF3 at best, maybe even an EF4.

You were currently handing out anything that might be helpful to families who had been impacted by the tornado - blankets, water, heat lamps. pre-made sandwiches and cookies. You tried to offer them any comfort you could with a smile and hug, but you understood the devastation they felt all too well.

In the early days, you would try to help with the damage cleanup, but Tyler insisted that you stay back at the camper and talk to the families.

At first, you were insulted, and you thought that Tyler was insinuating you weren't strong enough to move heavy tree limbs or pieces of drywall. You finally asked him about it one day, and he laughed.

"Absolutely not!" He insisted. "You just have this energy around you that's calming, and these families need that. Your empathy and kindness are doing much more for them right now than cleaning up a bunch of rubble would."

You had never thought of it like that, but once Tyler pointed it out, it became your mission to be the solace that these families in crisis needed.

"Is there anything else we can do for you, Mrs. Smith?" You asked, rubbing the arms of a middle-aged woman who you had been speaking to for a few minutes now.

"No, thank you." She sniffled. "I really appreciate you guys being here. God bless you."

You smiled, giving her another hug. "Please let us know if there's anything more we can do to help."

She nodded, walking away to join her family, who were staring at the remains of their house.

You pushed back tears, feeling silly that this never got any easier for you, but also focused on being the anchor that these folks needed.

Scott saw you before you saw him. He watched you from afar as you did your work. He watched you force a smile and hold these people as they cried. He also watched you look up to blink back the tears before taking a deep breath and moving on to the next.

And damn if it didn't drive him nuts.

This job is easier when he doesn't get involved with the people impacted. It's easier to pretend not to care. But watching you pour your heart out to strangers, just because it's the right thing to do? It made his heart jump, and that scared him.

Ignoring the people involved and ignoring his feelings for you had become increasingly more difficult with every chase.

"Scott!" You called, approaching him with a styrofoam container in your hand.

He sighed, mentally preparing himself as you literally bounced over to him.

How the hell does someone look this good after taking on a tornado?

"Here." You offered him the container. "It's just a ham and cheese sandwich and a cookie."

"I'm really not hungry." He responded.

"Seriously?" You asked, not buying it. "We've all been chasing since 10 AM and it's nearly 8, you have to be hungry."

Scott shrugged, trying to hold back the things he really wanted to say.

"Fine." You sighed. "We're right over here if you change your mind."

"Yeah, I know princess. It's hard to miss you being the town's savior over there."

Scott watched you visibly retract and he internally screamed as his heart dropped. You probably hated him, but it didn't matter anyway. You were far too sweet for him, so putting a wedge between the two of you seemed to be the smartest way to outrun his feelings.

"Wow." You spoke, your voice much smaller and shakier than usual. "I knew you were sarcastic and maybe even a little mean, but I never thought you were actually cruel. So, thanks, for enlightening me."

And with that, you turned and strutted off. This time, you failed to fight back the tears as you returned to the camper.

And to your horror, Tyler was there, taking a break from clean up for some water.

When Tyler sees you cry, his overprotective streak comes out instantly, and right now you didn't want to be protected, because you were so embarrassed that he finally got to you. You were even more embarrassed that you thought that just maybe, he might be a good person under that scowl and hard facade.

"Hey, hey, hey, are you okay?" Tyler rushed up to meet you.

You nodded, trying to stop sniffling. "I'm fine."

Tyler looked behind you to see Scott watching you closely, with a look that almost mimicked longing, and he quickly put two and two together.

"Let me handle this." He insisted.

You shook your head in protest. "No, Tyler, please, he thinks I'm a waste of time anyways, it's not worth it."

"Trust me, he doesn't," Tyler reassured you. "Let me handle this, and if it goes badly, I'll edit all the stream highlights for the next two weeks, okay?"

"Deal." You nodded.

You truly did trust him more than anyone in your life, so you opted to go inside the camper and dry up your tears while he went to speak to Scott. You would let Tyler handle it, but no way were you going to stand there and watch, looking like a puppy who just got kicked.

"Coming to defend your girlfriend's honor?" Scott said sarcastically, trying to mask any emotion he was feeling.

"Dude, seriously." Tyler glared at him. "If you want her attention being a complete and total asshole is not the way you get it."

"Is that what you think? That I want her 'attention'?" He said, framing the last word in air quotes.

"Yeah, I do." Tyler nodded. "I saw the look you gave her as she walked away."

"Okay, so what?" Scott shrugged. "You might be surprised to know I am human and I didn't mean to make her cry."

"Sure." Tyler nodded. "So, what about all the other times I've caught you staring at her, hm?"

Scott stayed silent, stunned speechless.

"Ah, you thought you were better at hiding it, didn't you?" Tyler said with a smug grin. "Every time we end up at the same gas station, restaurant, bar, or motel, your eyes follow her nearly the whole time. And don't even get me started on the holes you burn into my head when I'm talking to her."

"Alright, fine." Scott snapped angrily. "Here to rub it in my face then?"

Tyler sighed in frustration. "No."

"Then what?"

"I'm going to give you a piece of advice."

"Why?" Scott scoffed. "It's no secret that we aren't friends."

"I know her better than anyone else, do you want my help or not?" Tyler asked, his patience nearing its limit.

Scott didn't protest this time.

"Look, no matter what I think about you, you're pretty much exactly her type," Tyler said, much to Scott's surprise. "So if you want her, apologize and tell her how you feel."

"She's not going to feel the same, and she deserves much better than me." Scott retorted. "C'mon Owens, you know what we do. When she comes floating into these broken towns like a heaven-sent angel, I'm collecting data for the devil."

"That doesn't have to be a permanent problem." Tyler pointed out. "Plus, she likes a challenge, and she's definitely brave enough to think she can fix you."

That cracked a smile from both of them, followed by a moment of silence.

"218." Tyler said.

"What?"

"That's the room she's staying in tonight." Tyler said, starting to walk away. "Apologize."

Scott nodded, beginning to formulate a plan on how the hell he was going to get you to forgive him.

You were snug under your blanket in the motel room watching reruns of Modern Family when the knock came.

You sighed and got up, not bothering to check the peephole as you assumed it was just Tyler coming to talk about the day's events.

So when you opened the door to see Scott standing there, you couldn't be more surprised.

"What are you doing here?" You said quietly, nearly breathless at the sight of him.

It wasn't the first time you had seen him outside of that stupid Storm Par white jumpsuit, but it was the first time you had seen him in gray sweatpants and a tight black long-sleeve shirt that clung to his muscles in a way that you could only describe as sinful.

He towered over you, leaning against the frame of the doorway, and you nearly shuddered when you looked up to meet the intense gaze in his eyes.

"I brought you something. As an apology for being an ass earlier today."

"Oh, and what did you bring for all the other times?" You spat back, no longer in the mood to play nice with him.

"I deserve that." He sighed. "Can I come in?"

"Depends." You responded, and he raised an eyebrow. "What did you bring me?"

He handed you a plastic bag, and you opened it to find a Cherry Coke, Sour Patch Kids, and a Honey Bun.

All of your favorites.

"How did you know what I like?" You asked, curious to know if Tyler was behind this.

"You always get some combination of the three at any local gas station." He shrugged.

He remembered because the first time he saw you buy all three he physically rolled his eyes, because, of course, you would buy snacks just as sickeningly sweet as you.

"I didn't know you paid this much attention to me." You said softly.

"Yeah." Scott inhaled a sharp breath. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Can I please come in?"

You opened the door, inviting him in with the gesture. The door shut behind you, and there was a brief moment of silence between you two.

"I'm sorry, for being a jerk today and every other time I'm around you." Scott started, visibly nervous as he ran a hand through his hair. "I wish I had a better explanation for why I've been such an ass."

"Yeah, so let's hear it." You said, hands on your hips. "Because I have been nothing but nice to you, even though I don't like who you work for and what they stand for."

"I know." He nodded. "At first, I thought you were being fake or sarcastic because it was unfathomable to me that you would be nice to us when you have absolutely no reason to be."

You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"But once I learned more about you, and I realized you were being genuinely nice," Scott took a deep breath, building up all his courage. "It knocked me off my feet."

"What do you mean?" You asked, confused at what he was getting at

"I spend most of my time pretending that I don't care about the people that are devastated by all of this, because it's easier that way. But watching you bear your heart and soul to all of these people, just because you can?" Scott scoffed. "It makes it hard to pretend like I don't care about them, or more importantly, about you."

"You care about me?"

"I do." He nodded. "And I was a jerk to you because I thought it would be easier to make you hate me than it would be to admit that I have feelings for you, when you're far too good for me."

His admission stunned you. You can feel your heart thumping out of your chest as you look into his eyes, which look painstakingly vulnerable.

"I completely understand if you don't feel the same way, but I couldn't outrun these feelings anymore, and I wanted to at least let you know that I'm sorry."

The room fell silent as you processed everything he just told you. Scott was panicking inside, waiting for what felt like years for you to say something, anything.

"Do you know why I was always nice to you?" You asked him. "Because I was hoping that somewhere in there you had a good side. I needed to know that you had a heart before I could admit to myself that I felt drawn to you."

"Do you still? Feel drawn to me?"

You nodded. Stepping closer to him so that you were nearly face to face.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please." You nodded desperately, your words barely above a whisper.

His lips were on yours in a flash, and the pure intensity of the kiss nearly knocked you off your feet. It was heated and rough, but somehow gentle and passionate at the same time. His thumb grazed your cheek as he pulled you closer, and every spot his fingers touched made your skin feel like it was on fire. You couldn't get enough of him.

Once he knew you were comfortable, he took the liberty of exploring you more. His tongue slipped into your mouth gently and his teeth caught your bottom lip, causing a small whimper to come from the back of your throat.

Scott groaned at the sound, letting his mind imagine (not for the first time) all of the sounds he could pull from you.

When the two of you finally pulled away for air, he kept you close, his hands ghosting under your chin around your neck, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"You taste just as sweet as I thought you would," Scott said with a smirk.

"Shut up and kiss me again."

#scott twisters #scott twisters x reader #twisters x reader #twisters #twisters movie #twisters 2024 #scott miller x reader #scott miller #scott miller x you

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 months ago

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one time, on a trip into town, you buy a hammock from the camping supplies store.

it’s a quick trip, insignificant. but, you’d argue that any time you get to spend with logan is significant.

you ride into town on his motorcycle, your front pressed into his back, your head resting against his shoulder, wind whipping your hair. he tells you to stay put while he runs into the general store— being two of the older residents of the x-mansion, you often go into town and buy a stash of stuff for your rooms.

logan gets beer, cigars, beef jerky, crossword puzzles, cards, razors, and a new pair of aviators.

you get pencils, oranges, iced teas, rolling papers, batteries, sunscreen, and lavender body wash.

you also get condoms, bandages, painkillers, and whatever else the mansion’s infirmary might need.

and one day, you get a hammock.

logan finds you leaning against his motorcycle, a small brown bag in your grasp. he nods to it, asking what it is silently.

you’re fluent in his language.

“it’s a hammock,” you beam, “it’s supposed to be 90 degrees tomorrow. i figured i can set it up on the edge of the woods and relax.”

he just smirks and shakes his head at you.

“cmon. we’ll be late to supper.”

the next day, he finds you just where you said you’d be. you’re dressed in shorts and a tanktop, lounging with one of your iced teas and your sketch book.

logan throws a sandwich at you, startling you.

“lounging about, spitfire?” he wonders and you roll your eyes.

“you’re just jealous that you don’t let yourself relax.”

he scoffs, defensively.

“of course i do.” he grumbles, and you shake your head.

“okay, prove it. come sit.” you say, moving to sit up, patting the area on your hammock where he can sit.

he saunters over, letting himself sit down, and—

immediately, the straps that are wrapped around two parallel trees snap, causing both of you to fall down, right onto the ground.

right. his skeleton alone weighs 200 pounds.

both of you sit there for a minute before you’re laughing at how silly it, leaning against him as you laugh your ass off.

your hammock was nice while it lasted.

but, you wind up laying on the hammock’s fabric, the sun shining just a bit through the shade of the trees. you wind up sketching him as he naps, focusing on the curve of his nose, his side burns, and his hands.

your sketchbook is full of drawings of his hands.

#danny speaks to the void #logan howlett blurb #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine #wolverine blurb #wolverine fluff #logan howlett fluff

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wraithdance · 2 months ago

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The Five Year Plan | Gaz x Reader

Note: F!Reader, Readers nickname is 'Siggy', there will be no y/n use Content warning: nothing other than a terrible grasp of british-isms

Chapter Four (1/2): There's a Conspiracy Afoot

You are not late to work. You were simply… avoiding calamity.

Calamity in the form of an idiot blond ex and the knee hugger of a woman clinging to him outside your apartment building on a Monday morning.

You're glaring from behind the hedges where you'd darted upon seeing the couple canoodling hand in hand. The degree of happiness they emit is a great assault to one's senses. It would bring a smile to your face if a grand piano were to rain from the sky in cartoon-ish flare, right on-top of their disgusting display.

At the very least you'd love nothing more than to march right over and wallop them with your very cute (albeit dreadfully painful) heels.

But alas, you can't. The doorman stands sentry out front playing candy crush on his brick of a phone. You're already on thin ice with him for that big misunderstanding regarding the amount of packages you have delivered. Especially after that time you impulsively redecorated your living room all at once.

(It's what you get for following that monochrome minimalism trend knowing your fickle nature and propensity for color. And clutter.)

You’re chewing the gloss off your bottom lip when a dark form enshrouds your view between the gaps of the hedges. Your face drops into a flat expression as you take in the combat boots and wide stance of the bane of your existence.

With a guttural groan you straighten and roll your shoulders back with all the dignity you can muster under the circumstance. Kyle raises a brow, his features are obscured by the aviator glasses perched on his nose, but you know there's a teasing look in his eye. You scowl.

“Garrick," you lift your chin with an aggrieved exhale, "lovely to see you again as always.”

Per usual Kyle's smile is open and too bright for the early hours.

"Good morning Siggy, I'll ignore the sarcasm as usual.. but should I ask?"

Your eyes dart from him to the couple who'd finally stopped merging faces to slowly walk down the path to the building.

You bend your knees and scooch to duck a bit more behind the overgrown greenery with a curse. When Kyle turns his head to look behind him you clear your throat loudly in panic, reclaiming his attention.

"Hm, ask what exactly?" you hope your smile is convincing but you do feel your eye twitch a bit when Madelyn’s high pitched voice sounds out. Kyle of course notices and smirks in a way you hate.

The man was always so determined to be an irritant, such a shame.

“Why are you hiding behind a bush from Maddie?”

You squint your eyes and laugh in (faux) shock at his accusation.

“Garrick, do not besmirch my good name in such a way, I hide from no one.”

He scoffs and shifts his weight from one side to the other. You want to call him conceited for taking off his glasses so you can properly take in his look of disbelief, but you are properly distracted.

His brown eyes are very… well brown.

Also almond shaped with lashes a man should have no business having. He chooses to squint them to give you a flat look that does nothing to dampen the obvious mirth. He reaches over to pluck a leaf from your hair and dodges your flapping hands with ease.

“Then what are you doing behind a bush instead of heading to work?”

That gets your hackles raised in defense, you did not have time for his judgmental tone or his Nosy Nancy proclivities! Especially with calamity on the horizon and less than a sneeze away.

“Garrick, I am continuously concerned about your knowledge of my schedule,” you wag a finger in his direction in reproach, he doesn’t bother to look at it. “Besides, I’m just… admiring the quality of this gorgeous plant- oh, Bollocks!”

You crouch so suddenly that your knees vehemently protest with a humiliating crack. You’re willing to ignore the pain in order to not be seen by a skipping Madelyn as she hops ahead of Hugo towards your hiding spot.

For the love of all things holy and baked, you couldn’t deal with either of them right now. No matter how much you long to pummel them, the stakes were higher with Kyle lounging about to witness.

“Oh, Hi Kyle!”

You’re muttering curses under your breath and pleading with a curious Kyle with your eyes. It is by some act of goodwill on Garrick’s part that he turns to face a jovial Madelyn who comes to a stop before him. He slides to the left to further hide you behind his solid form and you have half a mind to kiss him.

(The other half of your brain of course calls you an imbecile but you choose to ignore such negativity.)

“Oh, you’re in your uniform, I’m glad I caught you before you left!” Madelyn says in a chipper voice.

Frowning you realize you hadn’t taken in Kyle’s dark khakis and the windbreaker stamped with British Special Services on the sleeve. If you crane your neck further you can see the duffel bag at his side but you’re scared you’ll topple over in your heels and oust yourself.

“Hi Maddie,” Kyle says politely, “Yeah I was just headed out. Stopped to take in this nice… bush.”

You make a note to kick him in the shin for his clear teasing when this is all over. It disgusts you that Maddie ooh’s and aw’s in genuine fascination.

“Yes, it is a nice hedge isn’t it? I’ve always thought so myself! Actually, I was just telling Hugo about how lovely the greenery daddy put down for the property was. Oh! Speaking of, Hugo darling!”

It takes all of your control not to reach out and strangle the bushels of pathetic plants in front of you in abject rage as you hear Hugo stride near.

Your knees are starting to burn painfully from the effort of kneeling for so long. You shift your weight, attempting to alleviate some of the strain but you freeze when your forehead jostles the bush slightly.

Kyle gives you a look in his periphery and you take the moment to widen your eyes in what you hope translates: ‘Get rid of them now, PLEASE!’ He makes no sign of understanding frantic telepathy though, as he turns to greet the approaching Frenchmen.

“Poppet, this is Kyle, the one I told you about! He’s Siggy’s neighbor and has the best assortment of tea in the building!”

Nastily you wonder how many cups of tea the tart has had with her neighbors to make such a declaration.

Hugo hums and you watch Kyle outstretch his hand for a handshake. You know Hugo has given him one of his limp, disinterested wags by the way Kyle’s arm flops back to his side and the corner of his eyes tighten.

“So you’re neighbors with Siggy?” Your stomach drops at Hugo’s tone and you watch Kyle stiffen imperceptibly, “That’s… unexpected. I’m sorry, I give you my well wishes.”

Now what the bloody hell did that mean?!

You’re summoning hellfire from your veins and about to totter up on creaky knees that were sure to be dust by now, to hurl an insult when Kyle’s clipped tone stops you.

“Didn’t ask for your apologies, mate.”

You’ve never heard sickeningly playful Kyle so obviously peeved before. You watch him cock his head in what you can only call an arrogant sneer that makes your traitorous core flutter.

“Who are you and what’s your relationship with Siggy that you’re giving out well wishes?”

You can practically see the lies rolling about in Hugo’s empty head when he sputters out some nonsensical tale about knowing you in passing and being friends that enrages you. Before you or Kyle knows it you’re popping up from your hiding spot and pushing Kyle aside.

At least you attempt to but the man is as solid as a brick wall and doesn’t stumble for a moment under the pressure of your insistent hands.

(He does eventually give you the dignity of scooching over a smidge to allow you to stand at his left, which you suppose is generous of him.)

At the sight of you Madelyn lets out an unbecoming squeak and clutches at a stricken Hugo. You place your hands on your wide hips and enjoy the terror your very presence strikes in the two half wits before you.

“Siggy? Have you been there the whole time?” Madelyn hides behind Hugo’s arm at your sneer.

“No Madelyn, I just spirited here on my broom upon hearing lies!”

Madelyn’s lip quivers as she hides her smaller form completely behind Hugo who finally gets his senses back.

“What were you doing behind the bush?” He is brave enough to pretend he isn’t struggling to meet your eyes, “And why aren’t you at work?”

“Never mind that!” You give him your nastiest glare. “What were you saying just now, hm? You were explaining who we are to each other. Go on then!”

Hugo opens his mouth as if to speak but you cut him off and answer your own question.

“Hugo here was my fiance,“ turning to Kyle you look him in his eye with a plastered smile stretching your lips. “at least he was as of three days ago before he let me know he and Madelyn here are expecting a bouncing bundle of joy!”

Kyle’s brow furrows as he looks from you and the now inflamed face of Hugo.

“That’s really messed up-” he doesn’t have a chance to finish when Madelyn lets out a massive sob that cuts him off.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Siggy! I ruined everything!” Madelyn clamps a hand over her mouth as fat tears befall her doe eyes. You open your mouth to tell her where to shove her apology but before you can she’s running off at speeds that may even rival Usain Bolt’s best timing.

Hugo shoots you a look of pure derision.

“Wonderful, look what you’ve done Siggy, very mature of you as always.”

You roll your eyes so hard you make yourself a bit dizzy. “Oh fuck off! You’re a lying, cheating, weasel and I don’t care if she cries. She deserves it!”

Hugo steps forward like he wants to challenge you but thinks better of it when Kyle shifts to stand in front of you.

“Think you’ve done enough, mate. You should go check on your… Maddie.”

Hugo’s cheek twitches a bit but he has the sense to only shoot you another put out look and follow the wails into the building.

“Well that was unpleasant.” With a huff you straighten your back avoiding Kyle’s heated gaze.

“Ha, friends! As if I would ever befriend someone so unbelievably-”

Kyle cuts you off with a hand on your shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me the other night?”

With a glare you shrug off the offending limb and level him with a warning look.

“Because it wasn’t and still isn’t your business, Garrick, because we are also not friends. I’ve never come to you about my relationship woes and I’m not going to start now!”

Kyle doesn’t seem to like that at all.

He presses forward and you’re scrambling backwards which only corners you against the hedge. He scrutinizes you for something in your expression, brown orbs flitting between your irises and across the bridge of your nose.

Your mouth parts in a small gasp when his stare trails to your lips, the soft swoosh of air brings his relentless focus back to your eyes. A safe place for his attention to be, you think. You don’t like the stirring in your loins that his attention fosters.

“We are friends.” he says finally after a silent beat.

You sneer at him, opening your mouth to say something caustic about his comprehension skills but it dies in your throat at the steely look he spears you with. You’ve never seen the look before from him. It’s one of that relays he will not allow you to broach objections to his statement.

You close your mouth with an audible click of your teeth.

“We are friends and I would have never comforted Madelyn had I known she did something to hurt you. Especially something like that.”

Your heart doesn’t know whether it wants to clamber up your throat to hurl itself out of your mouth to its death or just stop completely in your chest. Kyle’s expression is open and soft as you search for signs of a lie in his face. Finding none, your breathing is a bit waspish and your tear ducts are doing this odd itchy thing that confuses you.

It’s peculiar to you that your sworn enemy would choose to protect your feelings in such a way in comparison to maintaining niceties with another. It’s something that’s never happened to you before even with those you love.

You don’t want to examine why that makes you feel so utterly lonely and confused.

“Um, yes…” you clear your throat and avoid looking at him “thanks for that I suppose.”

He gives you one of his bright smiles that he passes out like candy. “No need for thanks Siggy. That’s what friends are for.”

You ignore him and hike your purse farther up your arm. “Yes well, I’m officially in line to be sacked if I don’t make it to work in the next ten minutes, so I have to go.”

Kyle shifts his duffel bag from one hand to the other to look at the watch on his wrist before letting out a considering hum. “I’m just headed in for drills and some paperwork, I’ll give you a lift.”

That causes you to jerk back. First of all, you didn’t even know he had a car and secondly, you’re not sure if you can handle being in close quarters with him for any amount of time.

“I don’t-” Kyle waves off the beginning of your protest and slips an arm between one of yours. “Really love, it’s fine. You’ll never make it if you take the train now.”

He’s right of course, but still.

“Garrick, really it’s fine. I can call a car and pop over to the station, there’s really no need.”

He’s nodding his head listening and thwarting your excuses all the while shepherding you to the carport attached to the building. He stops in front of the sleekest and cleanest car you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but squawk.

“Sweet blueberries! This isn’t your car is it?”

He shoots you a nettlesome look as he makes a show of clicking the locks on the door. You give him an unimpressed look up and down in return.

“A bit showy for a man of your career don’t you think?”

Kyle lets out a bark of laughter. “I’m not a priest Siggy, I’m allowed to have my toys too you know.”

Your lips are pursed, not allowing yourself to snark that you both have a different definition of ‘toys’.

With the practiced grace of someone far too obsessed with the optics of being a lady, you slide into the car's interior as Kyle holds open the door.

You think you hear him mumble a something flippant about having the Queen of England in his presence but he closes the door behind you before you can question it. He stops at the boot of the car to place his duffel bag before sliding into the driver’s seat.

Bergamot and the citrusy scent of his after shave fills the space and your eyes flutter shut.

“Okay?”

You snap your eyes open and give him a scratchy ‘yes, lovely’ that you hope is convincing.

During the drive you’re careful about keeping your gaze out the car's windscreen or the tinted window on your side as Kyle drives. You do happen to take a peek from behind lowered lashes at the way he handles the wheel with one hand. He’s steady and efficient in maneuvering in and out of London’s morning traffic.

When he catches you peeking at him he shoots you a grin that you roll your eyes to.

The exterior of your office building is foreboding and it takes a bit of effort not to groan seeing your boss’s parking spot occupied by her vehicle. Kyle raises a brow in concern as he stops at the curb in front of the lobby.

“Well thank you for the ride Garrick. I need to make my grand entrance now and hope for the best.”

“It’s not a problem.” He looks like he wants to say something further and you give him a look to continue with your hand on the door.

“If you ever need another ride you can just knock on my door when I’m in-”

“Nope!” you cut him off and prop open the door in a hurry.

Turning you squat slightly to look at his narrowed eyes. “Thanks for the offer but one time is enough. Have fun doing… whatever it is you do, Garrick. Good day!”

You don’t wait for a reply and close the door, obscuring his disgustingly heart stopping look of confusion. Sweet blueberries the man would not trick you into lowering your guards!

Without a glance back you make quick strides into your 8 hour prison. The pair of security guards out front give you a knowing look that you stick your tongue at. No time for judgment; you had a high risk mission to complete.

Carefully you stomp-sneak up the stairwell closest to the office you share with your co-worker Estelle.

Estelle’s bespectacled gaze widens at the sight of you standing outside the threshold, separated only by the glass door. She’s mouthing something frantically to you and jerking your head in a way that makes you concerned that she’s coming down with something.

“Stellie darling," you say as you open the door "why do you look like you’re having a spasm? What’s-”

Your body flinches back violently at the sight of your boss perusing your assortment of figurines on your shelf with her hands clasped around her back.

Oh bloody hell!

Estelle gives you a ‘I tried to warn you’ look with her face that you actively ignore. Always the professional bullshitter you plaster on a wide smile, inching towards your desk to drop your purse atop it.

“Good morning, Mrs. Montclair! I don’t think we have a meeting scheduled today, so to what do I owe the ple-”

“You’re late.” She turns to you with a thinly raised brow. You want to sink into your So Kate shoes at the withering look but you steel your back.

“Uh yes ma’am, I had a bit of trouble with getting to the train station-”

She looks startled. “Was there another Piccadilly situation?”

You share a look with Estelle.

It was no secret Aimee Montclair had developed a phobia of terrorism after the Piccadilly attacks a few years prior. Any mere mention of possible organized violence sent her in a tizzy of anxiety.

Estelle shakes her head at you but eventually the dark skinned woman rolls her eyes, knowing exactly what unsavory thing you’re about to do.

You furrow your brow and look at your feet, mustering up a tremor in your voice.

“No thank goodness! There was just a bit of a fray this morning, it was so frightening! Ever since those awful attacks I’ve been wrought with worry and I completely lost track of time looking for alternate transportation.”

Aimee nods her head in understanding.

Her weathered hands fuss with the chain on her neck in anxiety, as you assume she’s in the midst of working herself up. After a moment her artic blue eyes snap to you and she lets out a huff.

“Yes well, don’t make tardiness a habit.” She looks from you to Estelle as she strides to the door past you, “Set aside time with me before lunch to discuss… well you know. Also, send the Morrigan contract to my assistant, I expect it within the hour.”

Without waiting for a reply she leaves in a whirlwind of silks and coiffed gray hair.

Estelle throws the top of her pen at you. “You are such a dirty liar you know that right?”

You give her a sarcastic curtsy and make your way to your desk.

“I do what I must to get results, Stellie. Besides, pause your judgment. I have to tell you about the circus of a morning I’ve had.”

Estelle mumbles something under her breath about being chaotic evil but concedes.

When you recount your tales of horror and the unexpected save by the awful man that is your neighbor she gasps.

“He said you were friends?”

You frown. “That’s not important, refocus please! Let’s discuss the Hugo situation.”

She sucks her teeth and huffs, turning back to the game of solitaire hidden behind her open emails. “Let’s wait until lunch to discuss it with the girls.”

That perks you up. This was indeed a moment perfect for a little hen session over treats at Le Misa’s. “Good thinking Estelle, I’ll reserve a table and you text the hens. They’re going to want to hear this.”

A/N Had to split this chapter in half because as you can see it's very long lmao. Working on editing the second portion and hopefully it'll be out by tomorrow. (Don't quote me on that I have classes and am but a frantic pterodactyl.)

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#the five year plan #kyle garrick x black reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #baby face #wraith writing #fat!reader #black!fem!reader

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roosterforme · 10 months ago

Text

The Intern Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Five minutes into an interview with you, and Bradley knew he was in trouble. You were attractive, funny and smart, and now the summer was stretching out before him like an obstacle course he would have to navigate carefully. At least a visit from an old friend should be enough to help him work through his frustrations.

Warnings: Language, mentions of smut and masturbation (eventually 18+)

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32

When Bradley got to the Avio headquarters the following morning, he rode the elevator up to his office. He'd already eaten breakfast, gone for a long run and taken a shower, and he was still one of the first ones here. Except for Judy. He smiled when her desk came into view as he turned toward his office door. She was sweet, and it scared him a little bit how much she reminded him of his mom. She was a widow with one son in college, and Bradley would be lost without her.

"Morning," she said, handing him his mail as he walked past without her even looking up at him. "You have a very busy day, and I already turned on your coffee maker."

He really needed to give her another raise. "Thanks, Judy. Hey, what time is that interview I have?" he asked, flipping through the stack of envelopes in his hand.

Now she looked up from her computer and met his eyes. "Nine o'clock. And it's Ted's daughter."

"I know," he replied with a small smile.

"Do you really think she would be a good fit? You'll be working on the yacht for weeks, and all she has is a graduate degree and a daddy with a bankroll." She handed him your résumé with a concerned look.

He shrugged as he skimmed the page again. "She has some related work experience. She volunteered to run the finances for a handful of Philadelphia based charities every year. Her references include the Philadelphia deputy mayor. But you're right, she's pretty green. I'll take this with me," he said as he held the résumé up and headed for his door. "Let me know when she arrives."

"Will do," Judy muttered.

Bradley made himself another cup of coffee before he settled into his seat. His office had a fantastic view of the Pacific Ocean in the distance along with the Naval base at North Island where he'd spent several years working. Sometimes he missed it, other times he didn't. Flying was in his blood, but after five air-to-air kills, it seemed like he'd given up enough of his soul to the Navy. Now he was helping oversee the design of software components that would help keep aviators safer in the air.

He turned his gaze from the view outside back to your resume. Your name at the top made him smile, and the more he read about you, the more he liked. None of the other people begging him for a job in his department had the same level of academic chops or philanthropic endeavors you did. And he couldn't imagine you begging for a single damn thing, ever. He tapped his keyboard, wondering what your LinkedIn profile looked like.

Well. Your photo was gorgeous. It was professional looking without a doubt, but he knew better now that the way your smile tilted a little higher on one side meant you were about to deliver a line that would make him laugh. He wondered if you'd had the photographer smiling nonstop, too.

Bradley paused with his fingers on his keyboard, but he couldn't help it. He typed your full name into the search bar and sorted it by images. There were more headshots of you from academic articles and a few newspapers, but when he scrolled he almost spit his coffee out. There was one of you wearing that same bikini you had on yesterday. When he clicked it for more, it took him to your private instagram page.

He stared at that tiny thumbnail before he closed his eyes. Really, the way you looked wasn't why he asked you to come here today, and he'd spent a good portion of last evening trying to focus on anything other than how it felt to have your body pressed against his while he held you.

"Fuck," he grunted. He really needed to get laid. He made another mental note next to the one about Judy's raise. He would call one of his friends with benefits and get that taken care of, because if you agreed to join him for a couple months on the company yacht, he'd probably see that bikini again and again. And there was no way he could touch Ted's daughter. Not like that. Even if he wanted to.

And that thought brought him back to the main reason you would be here in the next few minutes. What kind of information could he get out of you? Bradley noticed that the profit and loss sheets from several departments didn't seem to add up. That had been the case for two quarters in a row. When he mentioned it to one of the harried looking accountants one floor down, he told Bradley they wouldn't have time to run an unnecessary audit before next quarter started.

Someone in this company was doing something shady, and Bradley wanted to know who it was and why. He'd gone over those numbers for days, double checking his math. He knew he wasn't crazy, but he didn't know who he could safely take this information to, especially when the specs on the software they were creating was considered top secret.

"Your interview is here," Judy's voice suddenly announced through his intercom.

Bradley quickly closed out of the photo of you in a bathing suit that was still on his screen and slammed his laptop shut. "Send her in."

A few seconds later, Judy was holding the door open for you, and you thanked her as you strolled in like you owned the company. Your hair was styled in some sort of clip, and you were wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. Bradley shook his head; it was rich that you called him out for his proclivity for Armani when yours was probably worth three times as much. His gaze drifted down your legs. Your black and white heels were the kinds of things he would love to have thrown over his shoulders in bed, and the bit of white silk peeking out above your jacket buttons reminded him of your skimpy pajamas.

Inviting you here was a terrible idea.

You smirked as you ran your right index finger along the charm from Tiffany's that hung from your necklace, and then you reached out to shake his hand over his desk. "Mr. Bradshaw. So lovely to see you again today." Your voice was playful, and Bradley gestured for you to take a seat while he tried his best to gather his thoughts.

"I was a little afraid you'd show up in your bathing suit," he said, and you nodded as you crossed your legs and set your leather portfolio on your lap.

"I can certainly understand the cause for that concern," you replied, not missing a beat. "However, I promise you'll see nothing but Armani suits from here on out if I end up coming to the office every day. Now what would you have me do for you all summer? Fetch your coffee? Give you the abridged version of the Wall Street Journal? Sit in on pointless meetings in the conference room across the hallway?"

"That's just it," he said, tilting his head to the side and taking in your neutral expression. He hardly knew what to do with the fact that you made him feel warm and slightly uncomfortable when you were being sassy. "We wouldn't be here at all. And actually, you could wear your bathing suit and swim half the time for all I cared."

Your eyes lit up immediately as you leaned closer to his desk. "This sounds like a trap, but please, carry on. Tell me more."

He chuckled as he moved a little closer to you as well. "I'm being tasked with taking a few weeks to a couple months on the company yacht in the Mediterranean. I have the technical knowledge as well as the access to arrange meetings with members of Avio's European sales team to close some deals. This is all top secret information, but since you've got the right connections, I'll go ahead and tell you that the US government has given us the greenlight to sell our software to a select list of countries."

You licked your lips, and Bradley could barely focus as you said, "So you'll be the one calling all the shots. And you need to have access to some of these countries to schedule meetings and dinners and cocktail parties. You'll be working from the yacht in much the same capacity you are currently working from your office, still expected to head the research department here. But you'll have the added workload of trying to answer questions and sell the software in Europe? Did I miss anything?"

Bradley's eyes went a little wide as he chuckled. "No. Not really."

You were smiling now. "This sounds like half work and half sorority party, and let me tell you, I am more than capable of making both of those things go as smoothly for you as possible."

"Yeah," he said, his voice a little raspy now. "But you'll have to put up with me. And some of these clients have been known to be a little difficult in... a variety of different ways." Bradley's mind drifted to last summer when he'd been on the yacht for a week as well as the summer before that. The wealthier a man becomes, the more he seems to think he could have whatever he wants, and Bradley had seen some wild shit. "But I'll do my best to keep you comfortable and safe. The workload will be intense, to say the least. But it'll all be happening on a one hundred and thirty foot superyacht."

You eyed him carefully. "This sounds like it was custom made for me, so you either want me or you don't, Mr. Bradshaw."

Bradley smiled, and his gaze followed your hand as you touched that pretty charm again. "Oh... I want you plenty. Something tells me yachts and Mediterranean vacations are something you simply grew up with. I'm just trying to sell myself now."

The way you laughed reminded him once again of that night in December when you asked him if he wanted to share a bottle of wine with you. "You're very persuasive, Mr. Bradshaw. I can practically smell the sunblock and taste the pasta from here." You bit your lip and considered him, and it felt to Bradley like you could see every flaw and indiscretion inside of him. "Where did you go to school anyway? Yale? Brown? No wait... you look like a Princeton boy to me."

He shook his head as he pointed to his college diploma on the wall. "I went to a state school."

You gasped, and your eyes went wide as you muttered, "Jesus," while you read it. "Political science? At the University of Virginia? Oh... you should be lying to people. I mean, at least say you went to Dartmouth."

Bradley tried and failed to hold in his laughter, because you truly looked scandalized by this turn of events. "Aww, come on, Ivy League. It's not so bad."

You sputtered with laughter, too. "Did you just call me Ivy League?"

"I sure did," he told you, still laughing. "It's about ten times nicer than what I was going to say."

Your soft gasp as your eyes positively lit up made Bradley's heart beat a little faster. "Well, what were you going to say?" you asked before biting your lip.

Shit. You were trouble, and you knew it. "Never mind. My lips are sealed. Can't say that to Ted's daughter."

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "You're no fun right now, but I'm sure as soon as I get you loosened up in some Armani swim trunks on the yacht, you'll be an absolute pleasure for me to deal with."

The way Bradley's cock was twitching should have been warning enough. He was about to get in over his head. But all he could say was, "Does that mean you want the internship?"

Your smile tilted up a little higher on the one side. "Oh, absolutely." Then you stood before him looking like the cat who got the cream, and Bradley had to hope for the best as he stood as well. He could mark this as the first time he'd ever become slightly aroused during an interview, a sign that he desperately needed to get laid.

He shook your hand and said, "We leave in a few days. Judy will help you get your visas in order. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect, Mr. Bradshaw."

The way you here still holding his hand and calling him Mr. Bradshaw left his voice barely louder than a rasp. "Judy and I will be in touch."

You turned and shot him a smile over your shoulder as you headed for his office door, and Bradley dropped back down in his chair. He'd call Callie about getting together to hook up before he left for Europe, but he had another more important call to make first. He cleared his throat as he opened his contacts and then put his phone on speaker. He was greeted with a familiar voice filled with laughter.

"Rooster! When are you going to get that yacht warmed up for me?"

Bradley just shook his head and said, "Hangman. You're not going to believe who my summer intern is."

------------------------------

You were floating on a raft in the pool wearing your second favorite bathing suit when you were greeted by the sound of your father's voice. "I sincerely hope you know what you're doing by wasting your time right now."

"Daddy," you greeted with a smile. "My day was a complete and utter success."

He checked his watch as he said, "Please, elaborate."

You had the trump card, but you knew all too well what it would be like if you didn't. Instead of lecturing you like you could tell he wanted to, he smiled when you said, "I have a job."

"Where?"

"Avio."

He nodded in appreciation as he said, "I am actually impressed right now. You managed to secure an internship at the company I've spent decades with, and you did so without me knowing anything about it. Which department?"

"Research and development," you replied smoothly.

His eyes went wider. "With Bradley Bradshaw?"

Your tummy swooped, and you sucked in a breath at the mere mention of his name. Spending weeks working with him and entertaining guests with him was going to be... well, something. "Yes. With Bradley Bradshaw."

"Sweetheart," your father said. "He had a career in the Navy."

"Yes. He was an aviator," you recalled from his Avio bio.

"That means he's not going to put up with any nonsense. You don't make him repeat himself, and you don't give him attitude. I'll know immediately if he's displeased with you, I'm sure."

Bradley didn't seem stuffy. He'd already encouraged you to pack your bathing suits. Hell, you were determined to get him to join you in some fun. "Well maybe not immediately as he and I will be on the Avio yacht in the Mediterranean."

Your father stared at you, speechless. Finally he said, "I really don't know how you managed to get exactly what you wanted, but I applaud you, Sweetheart. Well done. I know it sounds fun, but you'll be kept very busy. I hope you know what you're in for."

When he finally wandered back inside after you promised to join him for dinner, you soaked up the last few rays of the dying sunlight. Then you made a mental list of everything you needed to spend the next few days packing as you brushed up on your French and Italian. "J'adore mon travail. Amo il mio lavoro. I love my job."

--------------------------

Bradley was still chuckling as he got off the phone with Ted a few days later. Your father tried to warn him that you could be a bit of a handful. Like Bradley wasn't fully aware of that fact. As if he hadn't known since December. He could practically hear your disdain for his alma mater and your delight in international travel from his condo.

He was stacking his suits up in his extra bedroom along with several pairs of shoes, and he shook his head as he looked down at his swim trunks in his hands. They actually were all Armani, and you'd have a field day when you realized it. Or perhaps skinny dipping would become a thing?

Fuck. He needed to stop thinking about you like that. Callie Bassett was on her way over, so that should help alleviate some of this tension. He'd been friends with Halo for over a decade, and she had slowly and naturally turned into a friend with benefits over time. She was still in the Navy, and she was discreet. It was easier than having a girlfriend. It was all he had time for.

As he organized his suits, he remembered you told him he looked like a Princeton boy. He could just picture you with a parade of preppy assholes following you around, and he wondered if you ever slummed it with anyone like him before. It made him want to pack some of his casual clothes including his Virgina baseball cap and his worn out golf shorts. So he did.

Then his doorbell buzzed, and he went to let Callie in. He needed this taken care of right now. She smelled good, and she looked cute. She always did. And she wore something a little skimpy just for him. The kiss on his cheek in greeting quickly turned to her lips brushing his as she said, "I haven't seen you in weeks."

"Been busy," he replied, taking her by the hand and heading for his bedroom. "And I'm leaving for Portugal on Saturday."

"How long?" she asked, pouting a little bit as Bradley reached for the hem of her dress and eased it up and over her head in one fluid motion.

"Couple months," he whispered, taking in her soft, naked body with his gaze.

"Months?" she whined as he wrapped his hands around her waist and smirked at her.

"Don't even act like we are anything close to exclusive, Cal. Now... how do you want it?"

She licked her lips and looked up at him with those familiar dark eyes just as his phone rang in his pocket. He didn't hesitate or check the number; he never did. "Bradshaw."

"Hey, State School. I have a few questions for you."

Bradley froze with your voice in his ear and Callie's fingers on his zipper. He grunted softly as she eased it down and touched him. He just knew if he closed his eyes and listened to your voice, he'd probably finish in her hand within two minutes.

"Ivy League," he rasped, taking a step back away from Halo who was now standing before him completely naked and rolling her eyes.

"Are you busy?" you asked, and Bradley looked Halo in the eyes without remorse as he answered you.

"No. I'm not busy. I can talk." He held up one finger and zipped himself up as he left his bedroom in favor of his office. "As long as you tell me how you got this number."

You laughed as he sank down into his desk chair. "You think it's exclusive or something? Judy gave it to me. And it's probably listed on the company website."

Brat. He narrowed his eyes, adding a note to his mental list to make sure it was not listed on the company website. "What can I help you with?"

"Well, I'm packing and hoping for a little input from you."

"On Thursday night at nine?" he asked. "And don't you have a butler to help you with that?"

"Like you have anything else going on?"

Bradley thought about Callie waiting in his bedroom, but instead of ushering this call along, he asked, "What did you pack so far?"

You sighed. "Sixteen bathing suits, piles of lingerie, and sunglasses. And I'm only kind of kidding."

Fighting the urge to ask for more details, he said, "Unfortunately I can't let you wear any of that in front of potential clients. So throw in some suits and dresses."

"Some suits and dresses? You'll need to be a little bit more specific, Sir."

Sir.

That one word was echoing through his mind along with your bratty tone, and he had to take a deep breath. "Why don't you bring the suit you wore when I interviewed you? That looked good. And so did the dress you wore to your father's holiday party. The dark green one."

There was a pause before you said, "You remember what I wore to the party?"

"Yeah," he grunted, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "It looked nice. Pack some cocktail dresses, too."

"How many should I pack?"

"How many do you have?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Bradley laughed. "I'm sure you know better than I do what you should wear."

You scoffed. "You're acting like you've never spent a summer on the Avio yacht before."

"I haven't," he replied easily. "Just a few days here and there. I'm sure I'll be learning things from you."

"Then you'll be learning from the best."

He bit back a groan as he said, "That's what I'm counting on. That's why I hired you."

"I won't let you down," you promised, and Bradley believed you. "I'll see you at the airport on Saturday morning. Don't forget your swim trunks."

You ended the call before he could say another word, and now he was convinced you had called him simply because you could. If he was frustrated before, it was nothing compared to the way he felt now. Spending weeks on end with Ted's daughter was supposed to help him get to the bottom of the messy business with Avio, not cause other issues to arise.

He unzipped his pants, intent on touching himself, before jolting to his feet. "Shit," he muttered as he left his office and went back to his bedroom. "Cal?" he called out. "Sorry. It was a work call." But he was completely alone. He laughed as his phone vibrated in his hand with a text from her.

Have a great time in Europe. Don't bother calling me when you get back.

Bradley was sure he'd hear about this from his old friend Natasha when Callie bitched about him at work. But it didn't really matter. After she had a few weeks to cool off, she'd come back when he needed her again. For now, he'd take matters into his own hands and hope that would be enough.

----------------------

Your father insisted upon seeing you off on Saturday morning which gave Bradley a few minutes alone with him. He was listening to Ted as he watched you struggle with your seven pieces of Dior luggage on the tarmac next to the chartered airplane.

"Bradley, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into," your father told him with a laugh. "She's tenacious though. And whip smart. Make sure you challenge her, because she will certainly challenge you."

Now Bradley laughed as he shook Ted's hand. "I'll do my best."

"If she gets to be too much, just leave her in one of the marinas with her passport."

He would never do that to you. He doubted it would ever come to that. In fact, he was already impressed by the way you took care of things for yourself. Sure, you looked like you belonged in an ad for designer gym clothes with your leggings and soft hoodie zipped over your sports bra. But you were also taking your luggage from the back of the black Mercedes-Benz G-Class yourself.

"I can assure you that she and I will be just fine, Sir."

"What have I told you about calling me Ted?" Bradley received a friendly cuff on the shoulder before shaking his hand and turning toward you.

He picked up the last two pieces of your luggage at the same time and carried them to the cargo hold while you trailed after him. "I don't need help," you told him as he stowed them away. Then you added, "You look weird out of your Armani."

"I look weird?" he asked with a laugh as he glanced down at his chinos and Oxford shirt.

"A good kind of weird. Like when you wore that Fair Isle sweater last year."

Bradley examined your pretty face, and you didn't look away. He remembered the dress you wore to Ted's holiday party, and you remembered his sweater. Right now he was wishing he'd joined you for that bottle of French wine that night, something he'd remedy on the yacht. A flood of bad decisions just waiting to happen filled his mind as he said, "Go say goodbye to your father. It's almost time to go."

"Yes, Sir," you told him with your chin held high and a smirk gracing your lips. Bradley stood at the bottom of the stairs while you flung your arms around Ted and kissed him on the cheek. Then you came strolling his way once again, and he followed you closely up the stairs as you turned back and softly said, "I'm all yours."

--------------------------

Ivy League spells trouble for Bradley, but at least he knows it. And he didn't get an ounce of relief before getting on that plane. What could possibly go wrong? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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mamsieur · 1 year ago

Text

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."

#top gun maverick #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #beau simpson #family fluff #natasha trace #jake seresin #rober floyd #mickey garcia #pov second person #post movie top gun maverick

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flightschoolsinthephilippine · 2 years ago

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#aviation courses #pilot course #aviation courses philippines #aviation degree courses #aviation training #aviation training courses

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shadowsndaisies · 2 months ago

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dogfighting 101: 02 - let's rock and roll

wc: 1k

synopsis: It's been a long time since I rock and rolled, It's been a long time since I did the stroll, Ooh let me get it back, let me get it back, Let me get it back, baby, where I come from

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

“Anyone got eyes on Maverick?” you ask, eyes scanning both your radar and the terrain too.

“No visual,” Harvard confirms.

“He’s here somewhere,” you note and then you realize.

Never only think what’s expected, kid. 360 degrees, all the time It’s something your dad told you were little, he and Ice, they wanted to teach you lessons to help you, things they learned too late. Little tests, quizzes, making sure you were well prepared for whatever life threw at you. Part of you was positive that Ice always knew where you’d end up.

Keeping that lesson in mind, you decide to change your perspective.

“Athena!” Yale’s shout echoes when you invert, a slow roll, completely safe, but not anticipated by your teammates.

Of course, your hunch pays off when you spot your dad from where he'd been shadowing you from below the hard deck, below your radars reach.

“How’s it hanging, old man?” you ask, smiling under your mask, looking through the canopy at him.

“You’re catching on to my tricks too quick, kid,” he throws back and you can practically hear the smirk.

There's a “Oh shit,” over the line from Harvard, but you shake your head as your dad comes up ahead of you both and you flip back once again.

“I know you too well, Sir,” you offer in response.

“Let’s to put that to the test,” he says, “time to turn and burn aviators, fights on!”

He shoots up and you spare another look at the foxtrot team on your right.

“Break right, Yale,” you shout over the line as you peel off left trying to find your Dad again.

“Breaking right,” he confirms.

You both loop around and eventually you find him, he’s already on your ass and you’re trying to shake him off.

“Tally Tally, he’s on your four-side Athena,” Harvard shouts.

“I see him!” you confirm increasing your throttle and turning up in an attempt to loop back around.

Your dad though, is hard to lose.

“I can’t shake him,” you huff, eyes squinting down as you pull evasive maneuvers.

“Athena, how long would you need to get tone?” Yale’s question comes suddenly, and you spot him looping back around, you see the move he’s planning to make, the way he’s positioning himself.

“Not long,” you assure him.

“Get ready to Rock and Roll,” Yale decides.

“I hate the Rock and Roll,” Harvard mutters, and you can’t help the small chuckle that slips out.

“Would you prefer the Do-Si-Do?” you ask, amusement shining through as you turn to set your self up.

“Fuck, no, and you fucking know it,” Harvard denies vehemently, you can hear Yale laugh as you finally get yourself right where you want to be.

“I’m ready to Rock,” you confirm and suddenly you stop the evasive maneuvers.

“Then let’s Roll!” Yale shouts, shooting up.

You, on the other hand, straighten out, and right before Maverick can get tone, Yale dives down in a controlled but fast barrel roll in the gap between you both, it’s not the tightest gap, easily manageable, but enough to give Mav pause, and while Harvard and Yale slowed to avoid the hard deck, you accelerate straight up and then tip back in a vertical roll, it pulls more G’s than you’d expected during your first training run of the detachment, but you manage to level out and get tone on your dad.

Unfortunately your tone comes right after your dad caught Harvard and Yale.

“Shit,” you huff, dejected as Yale pulls up parallel to you.

“Shit,” Mav agrees, flanking your other side, though he sounds more impressed than anything else.

“Harvard, Yale, go see Hondo about your push-ups,” Mav calls, and the foxtrot team starts their descent. “Athena,” he calls, and your gaze jumps out the canopy and at your dad. He hits the glass, pulling his mask off and offering you a rare smile, real and proud, like he did at your high school graduation. “Not bad, Kid,” he says and you smile despite yourself, beginning your own descent.

Harvard, Yale, Hangman, Phoenix, and Bob are all stood on the tarmac when you land.

“I have a need,” Yale yells holding up his hands as you get out of your plane.

You roll your eyes but play along, “A need for speed!” you shout, high-fiving him and then Harvard who was stood behind his pilot.

“Not bad, ‘Thena,” Hangman drawls, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Don’t be too sad when you don’t get tone, Hangman, we always knew I was the better pilot,” you smirk, winking at him as you walk past.

You shake your head walking with Brigham and Yale, and when they stop by Hondo, you do too.

“You got tone, Athena, no push-ups for you,” Hondo says, frowning when you ditch your vest and gear, rolling your flight suit down and dropping to the ground in line with Harvard and Yale who had already done the same.

“I did,” you confirm, taking a plank beside the two men.

“Athena,” it’s Yale’s voice this time, looking at you with what can only be described as fondness, but also exasperation.

“We’re a team, you got shot down, we all do push-ups,” you say seriously. Then you turn to look up at Hondo, “on your count, Hondo,” you prompt.

“Hold that!” the evident smirk in the voice had your held tilting up and there was your dad. “A deal’s a deal, kid. You got tone, I owe 200 pushups,” your dad smirked down at you, as he dropped to the ground on the other side of you.

“You sure you can manage that? You’re getting up there in years,” you tease.

“Ice would have your head if he heard you age-shaming me,” he shoots back.

“Ice would laugh and join me,” you challenge.

Your dad simply smiles in defeat, turning to Hondo, “like the kid said, on your count, Hondo.”

“If you insist,” he nods, and then, “Down! One! Two! Three!” and the count went on, the four of you doing your push-ups.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes @geeksareunique @je6291

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shiljanewton · 4 months ago

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#course #aviation #admission #student #diploma #23.5 degrees #online degree #degree certificate attestation #career #achievement

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tgmsunmontue · 2 months ago

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Season to Taste - 18/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

He starts keeping a record of his favorite dishes, what he likes and doesn’t like about places they eat. And they eat at so many different places. While he might ring Ice once a week or every other week, me calls Leandro and Silvia almost everyday. And everyday Leandro or Silvia give them another instruction, a food to try or a place to go and visit, or a restaurant to go to. Ask to meet the chef, tell them who you are. They are expecting you.

It’s the fact that they’re always somehow expecting Bradley and Violet means they can’t not turn up. Sometimes it’s high-end places where they are so incredibly underdressed it makes him uncomfortable, but he notes that in the best places they don’t pay any attention to what he’s wearing, all customers treated with the same level of respect and deference and he likes it, reminds him of Leandro’s restaurant.

“Why are you keeping all these notes?”

“I… I think I might want to open my own restaurant.”

“Holy shit. Really?”

“Yeah. Is that crazy?”

“Yes. Absolutely insane. Where?”

“I don’t know… Where do you think?”

“Well. How much money do you have?”

“Shit. That’s a good question.”

“It’s a good thing I have a business degree.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m not letting you go off and do it alone.”

“Thanks Vi. I love you.”

“Ew gross. Feelings. Love you too though.”

… … …

He hears the door and the sounds of Jake kicking off his boots before they’re carefully placed out of the way. It’s after midday, so he’s not sure if Jake would have eaten yet, he’s just making some sandwiches, easy enough to simply put away for later if needed. Jake doesn’t bother calling out, heads straight for the kitchen like he knows that’s where he’ll find him and it feels nice, that he already knows Bradley so well.

“Hey, how was your morning?”

“Torture…” Jake offers. “But somehow not illegal.”

“That bad huh?” Bradley asks, and Jake comes to stand at the corner side of the kitchen island, leans forward to give him a kiss and he can’t help but smile into it. The easy gesture of affection but also Jake’s dramatics over his sisters torturing him.

“Do you promise not to hold my family against me?” Jake asks

Bradley grins, goes to immediately tell him of course not and then pauses.

“Well. As long as you can promise me the same, I guess. When the time comes.”

“Pretty sure my five sisters are scarier than any family you can throw at me…”

“Yeah… you’d think so. Probably. Just… uh. It’ll be fine.”

They need to actually reach a milestone of maybe months or a year together before he considers raising his relationship with Ice. Vi might think his fame would cause issues, but he honestly thinks Jake won’t give a damn. Vi’s right, he’s far too down to earth and grounded to care about what fame or money Bradley might have behind him. He cares about the person Bradley is and it’s nice, makes such a nice change. However he suspects that Jake will care about his deeper ties with certain members in the Navy, especially given that they’re all Naval aviators as well. Right. Like what he thought before, he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. Jake has shifted closer, has stolen a sundried tomato and popped it into his mouth and chewing while he grins and then he’s kissing Bradley properly, the sharp tang of tomato still in his mouth.

“Why are you always initiating sex in the kitchen...?”

“It is pretty much where you spend a lot of your time. Where I find you…”

“Huh. Yeah. I guess you're right.”

“Hmm. Maybe spend some time somewhere else and then you might find me doing this in other places…”

“Mmm. So it’s not me in the kitchen gets you going huh?”

“Baby, you anywhere and everywhere gets me going. Think we've already determined the fact that all I need to do is look at you...”

“Sweet talker.”

“Just for you. Also we ain’t having sex yet. This is just a welcome home kiss. You forgotten what sex is already?”

Bradley laughs against Jake’s mouth.

“Yeah, think it’s slipping from my memory. You better remind me…”

“Mmm. Hard job but someone’s got to do it…” Jake murmurs and Bradley hadn’t meant it as an invitation, not really, but Jake steps behind him, draws him back so that Bradley’s ass is cradled against his hips, he can feel Jake’s growing erection pressing through the layers of denim and his own cock has already started racing to catch up, an almost Pavlovian response now to seeing Jake simply walk through the door and surely he’s going to get used to it eventually. He braces his hands against the counter, shivers as Jake nips at the side of his neck, his hands pressing down over Bradley’s.

“Yeah, keep them there…”

“Huh?”

Then Jake’s palming his cock, fleshy part of his palm dragging and pressing and he jerks a little, caught between wanting to grind back against Jake’s cock or press into the friction of his hand. He can’t decide, glad Jake clearly has a plan as he works Bradley’s jeans open, hand slipping inside and pulling his cock out, starting to work it, not giving him time to think other than I was making sandwiches for lunch. Instead he’s panting, hands white-knuckled on the kitchen bench as he feels Jake’s body flex behind him as he works his hand down-up-down.

“One day I’ll come home and you’ll be in nothing but the apron…”

Bradley lets out a choked laugh, wants to say something about saving it for a special occasion, he’s not wearing an apron right now, but Jake is shifting so he’s more caged in by his body, more of him is pressed up against Jake as he grinds his hips against Bradley’s ass, his teeth nipping at Bradley’s neck.

“Love making you come for me…”

“Oh,” the breath punches out of him and he doesn’t last much longer, Jake holding him in place as he shudders through his orgasm, can’t believe a handjob has him coming that hard. Jake makes a humming sound and Bradley wonders if he’s imagining him sounding pleased with himself, before he’s stepping away to wash his hands in the sink and Bradley’s glad he’s supporting himself against the bench.

“You going to let me take care of you now?”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m banking on it.”

… … …

Jake isn’t sure what has opened the floodgates for Leo, but he listens as talks about his childhood, his dad dying in a training exercise at Top Gun and now that he thinks about it, he vaguely remembers reading about it, like they have to read through all the accidents and incidents so they can be better prepared. Bradshaw. That’s why the name rings a bell.

Then his mom being diagnosed with cancer, his godfather being there when he’s not deployed. Other naval aviators being present as he grew up and he uses callsigns like they’re as natural as breathing and it occurs to him then that when Leo had said he knew what Jake’s job entailed he had really meant it. He knows it can be dangerous. He knows Jake will be gone for long periods of time and that communication might sometimes be difficult, even if it has gotten much better. Leo was raised not only by a family in the military, but by naval aviators and if Jake had been looking for someone that might understand his job without doing the job themselves, then he couldn’t find someone better.

Then Leo talks about his mom dying, his godfather pulling his papers and his immediate and drastic decision to take the first plane out of the country. He files it away, that Leo’s first response when hurt and angry was to run away, wonders if that’s still the case. Then Leo is talking about his other family, the Gallo’s, and the way the name sounds has him grinning.

“Sounds like you’re saying gallows…”

“Yeah, pretty much. Why is that funny?”

“Well, I know it means rooster, among other things…” Jake says, and he can’t help the grin as he thinks of the sexual prowess and loud voice. “But my callsign is Hangman.”

“Okay…” Leo says, and it’s clear from his tone that he has no clue what Jake is referring to.

“You’re clearly not a Styx fan. But there’s a line, Hangman is comin’ down from the gallows… You’re the Gallo…”

“Then the line needs to be changed a little. Maybe going down on instead?”

“Yeah? Just maybe?”

“Yeah. Just maybe.”

NINETEEN

#Season to taste #Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #AU

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