#cyclone top gun

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Admirals Strike Back - Cyclone

Pairing: Beau "Cyclone" Simpson / Wife!Reader (Mitchell!Reader)

Word Count: 2.1 k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Consensual and Very Much Legal Age-Gap Relationship (About 15 years); Non-Traditional Father-Daughter Relationship (Between Maverick and Reader); Humor; Cyclone's a Grump; Maverick Becomes a Grump; Use of "You," No Y/N, No Physical Description; Named Simpson!OC Kids

Summary: Maverick knew that his somewhat estranged daughter was married. He just didn't know who she married.

Master List

There was one major rule in the Simpson household. Work ended at the door. The Navy was not allowed to step inside and into your relationship. If Beau needed to deal with the Navy on his personal time, he needed to go into his office.

But Beau was going to have to break that rule tonight.

Beau could hear the sounds of your daughters from down the hall as he walked into your house and felt some of the weight already melting off of his shoulders from his long day.

“Daddy!” Maggie, your eldest daughter, squealed, slipping down from her seat.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Beau bent down and scooped her up into his arms with a bright smile on his face. Setting her on his hip, Beau pressed a kiss to her cheek and fixed the bow in her hair.

“How was your day at school?” Beau asked, walking slowly into the kitchen.

“I got a sticker for being a good line leader!” Maggie announced, causing Beau to smile proudly at her.

“Very good, sweetie. We’re so proud of you.”

“Mommy said that I could have ice cream,” Maggie stated, causing you to turn around from the sink.

“After you finish eating your vegetables, Mags.”

“That sounds fair to me,” Beau replied, setting Maggie back down in her seat. “And I’ll throw in some sprinkles if you finish that broccoli.”

“Promise?” Maggie asked, holding up her pinky finger.

“Promise,” Beau agreed, wrapping his far larger pinky around her own.

Moving onto your younger daughter, Beau clucked his tongue with fake disapproval, causing Parker to grin and giggle up at her dad.

“Ms. Parker, you have far too much tomato sauce on your face,” Beau stated, reaching over to grab a paper towel. Gently holding your daughter’s chin, Beau wiped the sauce off of your daughter’s face before planting a kiss on her chubby cheek. “Were you a good girl for Mommy?”

“Yup!” Parker returned quickly, wearing a mischievous grin that Beau knew was going to give him heart attacks in the future.

“Mostly,” you teased your youngest as you finished up with the dishes.

“Sorry I’m late,” Beau apologized to you, walking over to give you a quick peck in greeting.

“Well, after last night, I assumed that something big was going on,” you assured your husband, setting a plate into the dishwasher.

Beau had gotten a call right around bedtime last night and he didn’t come to bed until the early morning. And you knew what that meant. Something big was going down. And as the Air Boss, your husband was going to be heavily involved. Beau glanced over at your daughters, who were still eating their dinner, before turning back to you.

“You want to break the rule, don’t you?” you guessed, turning to face your husband.

“Am I allowed to break the rule?” Beau asked, causing you to smirk a bit.

“Permission granted, Admiral. Proceed,” you replied, drying off your hands.

“Well, we needed to call in a specialist for this particular event,” Beau started off, folding his arms across his chest. “And we called in someone a little . . . familiar to you.”

You frowned for a bit, your eyes darting back and forth as you ran through the short list of Navy personnel that you were ‘familiar’ with when it suddenly clicked. Setting down the dish towel, you turned to your husband with an incredulous look.

“Maverick?”

“Yes,” Beau confirmed, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“I thought that he was taken off active-duty years ago,” you replied, causing Beau to nod.

“He was, but Iceman disagreed, and called him in.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, glancing over at the girls.

And how did you know Pete “Maverick” Mitchell? Well, you had technically known him your entire life.

Your mother and Pete Mitchell had a brief tryst that resulted in your existence. But Maverick was never very much around in your life, though you only found out recently, due to your mother’s actions. But after she passed away, you started digging to find out more about your father and reached out to Maverick.

Your relationship with your dad was very slow going. He didn’t even know that you were married to Beau. He knew that you were married with two little girls, but he didn’t know the name of your husband. He never asked. And you didn’t tell him.

“Did you want your whiskey then?” you joked quietly, spinning your wedding band around your finger.

“Not tonight,” Beau replied, straightening up. “We have an early morning tomorrow.” He took a step forward and gently took your hand into his own, rubbing your skin with his thumb. “And you’re alright? With him being in town?”

“Of course, I’m fine with that,” you returned, squeezing your husband’s hand. “I was just surprised.” Reaching up to grab your husband’s shoulders, you massaged his tense muscles. “And between the two of us, I think that you’re the one who’s less alright with him being in town.”

“I just need him to follow my orders,” Beau sighed, shaking his head.

“Oh,” you cooed, cupping your husband’s cheeks with your hands, “you’re definitely going to need some more whiskey. I’ll pick up some more tomorrow for you.”

Pressing a teasing kiss to his lips, you giggled when he pulled you in for more. And you were happy to return it, up until your daughter started screaming bloody murder.

“EW! Daddy! You have to put a dollar in the kissing jar!” Maggie yelled, pointing at the jar in the corner of the kitchen.

Similar to a swear jar, the kissing jar in your household was for when your daughters, mostly Maggie, thought that you and Beau were getting just a little too lovey dovey in front of them. The kissing jar money mostly went to ice cream or other desserts that you bought the girls, which only motivated them to call you and Beau out on it more.

“I will,” Beau promised, smiling over at Maggie. “Right after I give Mommy one last kiss.”

“That’s two dollars!” Maggie demanded as Beau pressed another kiss to your lips.

~~~~~

It was a few days after the mission and you waited with your two girls and the other families for the newly formed Dagger Squad to return to Miramar. Beau had called you yesterday from Hawaii, where the planes stopped to refuel and rest, before heading on to Miramar today. And right on time—which you expected nothing less from your husband—you spotted the planes in the distance.

Once they all landed and taxied off the runway and you were given the all clear from the grounds crew, you pointed your daughters in the direction of the plane that you knew Beau was on. Maggie took off running, already yelling for him, while Parker was happy to catch a ride from you.

“Come on, let’s go see Daddy,” you cooed to your youngest daughter before walking off.

“Who’s that woman?” Hangman wondered aloud, watching you walk across the tarmac.

“Out of your league,” Phoenix replied, not even having to glance up.

“Who do you think she’s here for?”

“Probably her spouse, judging by the toddler in her arms,” Bob added, sharing a look with his pilot.

“She’s probably . . .” Rooster trailed off, blinking with surprise at your appearance. Because you looked oddly familiar to the woman that Maverick showed him a picture of in the infirmary. Maverick mentioned that the woman was his daughter and that they were slowly reconnecting, but that they weren’t very close yet. “Holy shit. Who is she here for?”

“Did Hangman’s bullshit transfer that quickly to you? You were in his backseat for a couple of hours,” Phoenix scoffed, causing Rooster to shake his head.

“No, that’s Maverick’s daughter.”

“Maverick has a daughter?” Hangman asked, turning around.

“Yeah, one that he’s not really close with. So, who is she . . . you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Maverick and Cyclone stepped off the plane side by side, chatting about what was to come in the next few days since Iceman’s replacement was not yet decided. But before Cyclone could get too wrapped up in the conversation, Warlock tapped Cyclone on the arm and gestured towards the hangar.

Cyclone turned and instantly smiled when he spotted Maggie running towards him, pumping her little arms to run as fast as she could. You trailed behind her with Parker on your hip, but you waved to him as soon as you locked eyes. Maverick followed Cyclone’s gaze, expecting the daughters that Cyclone mentioned very briefly in passing to be teenagers.

But when little six-year-old Maggie leapt into her dad’s waiting arms, Maverick was quietly surprised.

“You’re back!”

“I am back, yes,” Cyclone agreed, hugging his daughter to his chest. “Did you miss me?”

“Yeah, a lot! And Mommy was sad without you!”

“Well, she does like me just a little bit,” Cyclone joked, setting his daughter on his hip. “Were you a good girl for her?”

“Like I promised,” Maggie agreed, holding up her pinky finger. “Parker threw up though.”

“When?” Cyclone asked, instantly concerned.

“Mommy said that she ate too fast and then ran around too much,” Maggie replied, shrugging her shoulders. “It was a few days ago.”

“Daddy!” Parker yelled, causing Beau to look away from Maggie.

You set down a wiggling Parker onto the ground, letting her run the last of the way to her dad. And then you turned to face your own, who was staring at you in shock. You shot him a sheepish smile.

“Surprise,” you breathed out, waving to Maverick, who waved dumbly back.

Cyclone, meanwhile, picked up Parker and held both of his girls. Pressing a kiss to both of their cheeks, Cyclone walked over to you. Turning away from Maverick, you smiled up at your husband and gently cupped his cheeks to pull him in for a soft kiss.

“You’re finally home,” you sighed in relief, rubbing his cheeks with your thumb.

“We’re all home. In one piece,” Cyclone reported, causing you to let out a breath.

Pulling your husband in for another kiss, you wrapped your arms around your little family for a moment. In the background, Hondo slowly waved his hand in front of Maverick’s eyes, shocked himself at the turn of events, but far more amused than Maverick was about it. Pulling away from your husband, you turned to greet your dad.

“Hey, Mav,” you called softly, walking over to him. You gave him a quick hug and squeeze in greeting, all while waiting for his reaction to actually drop. “How are you?”

“Shocked,” Maverick replied, glancing between you and Cyclone. “You . . . he’s your husband?”

“For the past eight years,” Cyclone stated, adjusting his hold on your daughters.

“But . . .” Maverick blinked rapidly, turning back to you. “I mean, isn’t he a bit . . .”

“He is still your superior officer,” Cyclone reminded Maverick, causing you to shoot him the same look that you always did when he got a bit snappy during Navy social events.

“Yes, we’re aware that there’s an age gap between us,” you assured your dad, turning back to Maverick.

“How did the two you of you even meet?”

“Well, I had this ad up on a sugar baby website and—”

“—You know that I don’t like that joke,” Cyclone interjected, causing you to shoot him a playful smile while Maverick’s heart attack receded.

“We met at a wedding actually. Mutual friends. We sat next to each other at the same table and spent most of the night talking. I managed to convince him to dance and then we got together about two weeks after that.”

“Ten days,” Cyclone replied, pressing a kiss to Maggie’s head.

“And these are your daughters?” Maverick asked, looking over at your girls.

“Yes, this is Maggie. She’s six. And that’s Parker. She’s three,” you introduced, pointing out your daughters to Maverick.

“They’re beautiful,” Maverick commented, causing Cyclone to nod towards you.

“They get it from her.”

Maverick nodded in return and you and Cyclone excused yourselves, walking off to greet Warlock’s family. He blinked dumbly, still in disbelief that the fact that his daughter was married to someone like Cyclone of all people. Cyclone? Really? The man was an outstanding aviator, but he was probably at least fifteen years older than you and a stick in the mud.

Hondo’s barely contained laughter caused Maverick to turn towards the warrant officer.

“What?”

“Well, isn’t it ironic that for all the crap that they give you for running around with Penny, an admiral’s daughter, that your own daughter married an admiral? And Cyclone at that.”

“Shut up, Hondo,” Maverick sighed, causing Hondo to burst out laughing and nudge him in the arm.

[lieutenantfloyd]

The Little things with Husband! Cyclone ♡

Husband! Cyclone who puts extra cash and and least one of his credit cards in your bag so you can treat yourself when he's not around

Husband! Cyclone who hates texting but sends you at least 10 "I love you"s a day

Husband! Cyclone who gets emotional every time he remembers that you chose him.

Husband! Cyclone who never forgets a date, anniversary, or social event.

Husband! Cyclone who keeps his work and his personal life completely separate, but has no less than 20 pictures of you scattered around his office.

Husband! Cyclone who keeps a note pinned in his phone of all of your restaurant orders (even though he already has them memorized).

Husband! Cyclone who absolutely hates being in photos but happily lets you take as many selfies together as you want and insists you send him every single one.

Husband! Cyclone who puts extra cologne on his pillow before he leaves because he overheard you mention that the smell is comforting

Husband! Cyclone who keeps a couple extra bottles of that same cologne around just in case they decide to discontinue the scent.

Husband! Cyclone who would lose his head if it wasn't attached, but has never once forgotten his wedding band

Husband! Cyclone who is anti-social media, but has a blank account for the sole purpose of liking and commenting on your posts.

Husband! Cyclone who runs hot but always wears a jacket when you go out together, purely because he knows you're too stubborn to take his advice and bring your own.

Husband! Cyclone who fell first and fell harder.

[fangirling-tussisque-noncaelatur]

[As soon as Cyclone steps out of Top Gun]

Maverick: Sir, I was...

Cyclone: *wearing sunglasses* It's the weekend. I don't know you. You do not exist.

[doodledraw]

Mavclone drawing based on a leather jackets ad @earthaboveskybelow sent in discord :)) reference pic under the cut!!

[saltsicklover]

Prompt Request: Sneak Peak

Not a Cyclone, But a Monsoon

Read the Complete Story HERE

I got sent this amazing ask and I got started working on it before life decided to become ridiculous and get in the way off all of my writing time. So, I wanted to post a little sneak peak of it, as it is still in progress.

I hope you like it, @inkandarsenic !

"Is your father planning on coming to your graduation?" The question is so simple, the next plausible question after toasting to her Mother's life. Monsoon bristles at the question, her expression becoming impossibly more tight, pinched.

"He's uhm," The foam in the bottom of Monsoon's glass is the most interesting thing in the room. Tears are flooding her eyes again, and she's turning back to the shitty bar napkins in the even shittier dispenser. Cyclone knows his question hit a nerve based on how she is frantically pulling napkin after napkin out of the dispenser; and the Admiral's guilt swims to the surface. He is sure that the horizon of it can be seen in his iris's, if Monsoon were to look past the evident sadness that has made a home there. He's pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, blue in color and perfectly folded. He offers it to her and it's taken with a slightly shaky hand. 

"M.I.A. or AWOL?" Cyclone asks. There's a bit of humor to his question that neither of them comment on. 

"He went AWOL when I was seven," She doesn't take her eyes off the popping foam in the bottom of her glass, "Then I suppose he went M.I.A. three years later, when he stopped sending birthday cards," 

Cyclone hates the way her shrugs are all noncommittal and vaguely unbothered. He would have killed for a chance to raise his child, hell, he would move the Earth if that meant he even had a chance to do something. The fact that a man would walk out on his family, on his own child, it makes him sick. There is still something else Monsoon isn't saying; the way she chuckles is almost wax poetic with the way she rolls her eyes. Cyclone raises an eyebrow at her as he gestures to the bartended for two more on tap. 

"I was in Admiral Kazansky's office today," She chuckles again, eyes glassy and unfocused. Cyclone slides the new beer over to her. He brings his up to his lips as she breathes deeply, trying to order the words together in her head, words she can't believe she is about to say out loud. 

"There's a fucking picture of my father on his desk," Then she is downing the beer in quick, deep gulps. It's half gone before she sets it back down. Cyclone's brain is working on overdrive, swerving the hazy clouds of intoxication, searching for the mental picture of the Admiral's desk. Monsoon is chuckling in quiet disbelief, picturing the damn photo on his desk, her father and the Admiral shaking hands during their time at Top Gun. It makes her sick, really, but she doesn't need to say it based on the way her face feels, all contorted and ugly.

[eri-is-online]

That's how that interaction went right?

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: Break - Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @justameresimp @agentorange9595 @handsupforamiracle @lxaah11 @librarian1002 @imaginecrushes @flrboyd @@nani-kenobi @areamir @b-bradshaw @adaydreamaway08 @crimeshowjunkie @shepgurl @inkandarsenic @caffeinatedwoman @tortilla-maria1 @lemmons1998 @dr-alan-grantler @dizzybee03 @burningpeachpuppy @penguin876 @deliriousfangirl61 @goosterroose @kishie8 @skyesthebomb @druby2011-blog @olymosity @@marshmallowflufffox @whateversomethingbruh @soultrysworld @@4everademigod @reneejett4 @notanotherpotter @yousigned-upforthis

Hitting the Bingo Square: Forgetting

Beau knows what it’s like when you get focused on a case. He’s used to the late nights, the intense scribbling as you draft and redraft your arguments. You’ve got a big one on your docket this month, a General, whose been accused of multiple sexual assaults. His legal team are the best of the best but then again so are you, it’s why you were cherry picked for the position in Victim’s Services in the first place.

Still, he worries about you burning out, you dedicate yourself to your work the same way that he does and lately it’s been intense. There’s a lot of pressure on your shoulders at the minute, too much he thinks which is why you’ve forgotten about Valentine’s Day.

When he steps inside the house this evening, you’re situated in your usual place in front of the coffee table. Your back rests against the couch as you read through your notes, making edits with a pencil. You’re wearing one of his jumpers over black leggings, your hair tied up into a messy bun. You barely register his presence, not until he sets the glass of white wine down next to a small stack of papers.

“Ally,” He says softly as he sits down in the space alongside of you. “You need to take a break.”

“Hm.” You respond distractedly, and he knows you aren’t hearing him.

There’s one thing he knows will distract you from your task. It’s his secret weapon, the thing he always uses when you get too inside your own head.

His fingertips brush over the collar of the sweater, moving it aside so that he can kiss that sensitive little spot between your throat and shoulder, the one that resides just in the curve. Your breath hitches as his heated mouth encloses over the space, the sound of your pencil pausing. His hand slips underneath the jumper, his fingers trailing over the lace of your bra.

“Beau…” You murmur, your head tipping back as you set your pencil down.

“Just relax.” He whispers against your skin, his thumb tracing over your pert nipple, bringing it to attention. “Let me look after you.”

It devolves from there, light teasing kisses that leave you desperate and overwrought as he goes down on you to the sound of Norah Jones’s ‘Waiting’. He takes his time, ruining you, his tongue tracing deviant circles over your clit as he fucks you with his fingers. It’s a slow build up, you raise, and you fall, but he won’t let you over the peak, not until he hears his name roll off your lips because that’s when he knows he has your entire attention.

You’re beautiful when you come, so fucking loud and uninhibited. He smiles as he kisses his way back up your body, his hands ghosting over your sensitive skin. Your eyes are still closed, your breathing heavy as his thumb chases over your flushed cheek. You look so peaceful right now, so serene and he knows that he’s achieved his goal.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been more attentive…” You murmur, your fingertips trailing over the line of his jaw. “I’m a such a bad wife…”

Beau shushes you, his forehead coming to rest on yours as he looks into your eyes.

“What you’re doing is important, he needs to be held accountable for what he’s done.” Beau reassures you, his nose trailing along yours. “I’ve booked us in at that little B&B in Denver after the trial, the one you love. We’ll take a little time then, get reacquainted.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” You whisper, the edges of your mouth turning up into a smile before he kisses you again. Your fingers thread through his hair and he moans at the sensation when you tug just a little.

“Now…” You murmur with that mischievous tone of yours. “It’s my turn to take care of you.”

Love Beau? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[thedroneranger]

Hey Bartender! Another one on my tab please, could I get Dagger Daddy Cyclone and a Brooklyn? Thank you much! 🍸

Mal! Dagger Daddy Cyclone and an at-home date comin' up! Cyclone's abode is definitely dark and rich. He's whipping up his favorite cocktail and flirting with you over a game of chess (yes, chess!). He loves a smarty pants.

Beau "Cyclone" Simpson | Checkmate | requested by @dakotakazansky

See what others are drinking!

Tag list: @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @taytaylala12 @galaxy-of-stories @awildewit @shanimallina87 @malindacath @violyn20 @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @blue-aconite @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @desert-fern @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @mavrellover91 @s-u-t @averyhotchner @penguin876 @kmc1989 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @seitmai @abaker74 @startrekfangirl2233 @dakotakazansky @beyondthesefourwalls @bradshawsprincess @damrlova @sweetwhispersofchaos @bellaireland1981 @fanboyswhore9

[nobody7102]

Make It Better

Pairing: Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Alluding to Smut, Alcohol, Switch Beau?, Rank kink

A/N: I had to get this Thot out

Main Master-List

———

Everyone has days where they come home from a really bad day at work, today was that day for Y/N but not the wanna cry bad… no it was the pissed off type of bad. 

She came home from work late, normally she gets home before Beau does but not tonight. When she did get home she walked straight to the kitchen not bothering to set down her bag, take off her jacket or shoes and completely ignore Beau’s greeting. 

Setting the bag on the counter before walking over to a cabinet and pulling out a wine glass before moving to the fridge to grab a bottle of wine. Popping the cork, she poured some into the glass, as she did Beau leaned against the doorway of the kitchen with his arms crossed. Watching as Y/N downed the wine in the glass with one gulp before giving herself another pour. Heavier than before. Pushing off from his spot, Beau comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist just as she takes a sip. 

He rests his head on her shoulder and nuzzles his nose just behind her ear “is there anything I can do to make it better Angel?” Setting the glass down, she tapped her fingers against the counter for a moment before nodding “What can I do?” He hums, pressing a kiss against her neck. 

“Go upstairs, clothes off and sit on the edge of the bed.” She turned her head slightly to him. And Beau nods, pressing one last kiss to her cheek before following the order. 

As soon as Beau was upstairs, Y/N left her bag on the counter, turning back to the entryway of the house, taking her glass with her. She slipped off her shoes and jacket before making her way upstairs as well. As she made her way up, her hand came up to the front of her shirt. Undoing the buttons that held it together before freeing the hem from the waistband of her pants. 

Reaching the bedroom door, she pushed it open, taking another sip of wine as her eyes trailed over Beau and how he rested his hands on his knees, waiting, naked, just as she had instructed. 

Moving over to the dresser she set the wine glass down, back to Beau as she finished taking off her shirt the rest of the way and undoing her pants. Before she realized what was happening, Beau’s hand made its way to her back. Unclipping her bra before letting it fall to the floor and kissing her shoulder. 

Turning her head to the side to catch his lips, she hummed into the kiss before nipping at his lip. “Did I say you could move from the bed Beau?... or that you could touch?” 

“I’m sorry Angel… You looked too pretty not to” he smiled, turning to face him. Y/N placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him down to his knees. 

And he listened, dragging his hands down her frame and along her waist as he went, before pulling her panties down with him. Leaving a kiss on her hip bone when he was fully seated on his haunches.

Stepping out of her panties, she turned away from him. Grabbing her glass, she made her way over to the corner of the room to Beau’s reading chair. 

Settling down into the leather hold of the seat. Y/N took a sip from her glass, motioning Beau over with the curl of her finger. As her legs spread, her eyes followed Beau’s form as he crawled along the floor to her. Stopping in front of her, eye’s trained on her cunt, sat at perfect eye level just inches away from him. 

She leaned forward, taking his chin between her thumb and forefinger with her free hand. She raised his attention back to her. 

“You wanna help” she raised her brow as he nodded. “If I don’t cum at least once before I finish this glass…” she swirled the remainder of her wine “We’re gonna have a lot more problems. Is that understood?” she watched him nod again before using her grip on his chin to shake his head “I need words”

“Understood, Ma’am” 

Leaning back into the chair, she nodded her head “Get to work then Admiral”

-------

Cyclone Enthusiasts(?): @sebsxphia @fanboygarcia @hangmanapologist @rhettabbotts @thesluttyarchivist @t-nd-rfoot @sweetlittlegingy @mothdruid @beachbabey @auroralightsthesky @weakling-grace @basiccortez @wildbornsiren @writercole @hangmanbrainrot @

[scarebats]

Top Gun and Top Gun: Maverick as Brooklyn Nine-Nine quotes

~

(Rooster after getting accused of something that went wrong at Ice and Mav’s wedding)

Rooster: Be very careful about throwing around accusations like that, because if you’re trying to say that I somehow ruined my dads’ wedding, then I am going to kill myself.

~

(Phoenix and Rooster fighting)

Phoenix: DO I LOOK LIKE JAKE TO YOU!?

Rooster: No, not at all!

Phoenix: THEN WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO SCREW ME!?

~

(Ice after getting yelled at)

Ice, talking about his shirt: It says, “what’s up beaches” instead of, “bitches,” for humour reasons.

Slider: But you hate humour!

Ice: Well im a joke now! So, it suits me.

~

Phoenix: You need to man up.

Rooster: Man up? sexist!

Rooster: I’m sorry, but i dont see gender, sir.

~

Maverick: Permission to take a selfie of the two of us, sir?

Cyclone: Permission denied.

Maverick, already taking the picture: Too late.

Maverick, looking at his phone and walking away: Ahhh, that was a good one.

~

Hangman: Did you finish your sentence? It felt like you were gonna say you were sorry.

Rooster: I did. Bob heard it.

Bob: Uh, I would remember if someone said my catchphrase.

~

Maverick: People fear me.

Maverick: Not brag, but I was name checked in my kindergarten teacher’s suicide note.

~

Maverick: I think I really would’ve gotten along with young Cy Simpson.

Cyclone: Yes, that’s why I decided to change everything about my life.

~

(Bradley after causing Mav and Ice to argue)

Bradley: Oh, I’ve caused a problem.

Bradley: I think I am… getting a text message.

Bradley: bloop

Bradley: Ah, there it is.

~

Phoenix: Wait, are you only hosting dinner so you can suck up to Mav and Admiral Kazansky? Not cool. This was supposed to be about friendship.

Rooster: You guys said you were only coming to see if my apartment was the reason that I was single or if it was my personality, “like you suspected.”

Hangman: Yeah, but that was before we knew we could get up on this high horse.

Phoenix: Love the view up here. Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop.

~

Iceman: When people say, “good morning,” they mean, “hello.” When people say, “how are you?” They mean, “hello.”

Iceman: When people say “what’s up?”

Iceman: They mean, “I am not a person worth talking to.”

~

Slider, talking to Maverick: No hard feelings, but,

Slider: I hate you.

Slider: Not joking.

Slider: Bye!

~

Halo, leaving Top Gun base and taking her hair out: sighs

Fritz: That was a wig?

Halo: You didn’t think I’d put my actual hair in a bun?

Halo: Are you insane?

~

(before Bradley was born)

Goose: What if something happens to Mav and he never gets to meet my baby?

Goose: I don’t wanna hang out with some stupid baby who’s never met Mav.

~

(before the mission)

Hangman: If you wanna worry about anyone panicking in the sky it should Bob.

Bob: Damn straight.

Hangman and Bob high five

Bob: …Wait why’d I high five that?

Hangman: ‘Cause you’re a sucker for a high five.

Bob:

Bob, in an excited tone: Damn straight I am.

They high five again

~

(Hangman and Coyote in flight school before they got their call signs)

Hangman: Okay, just so we’re clear, from this point forward, my call sign will be Deathblade

Coyote: And I’ll be Rum Tum Tugger!

Hangman: No, Javy, no characters from Cats. Dig deep, think of something scary!

Coyote, immediately after: Adolf Hitler.

Hangman: No—

this is basically just the main characters from the movies. im srry😭

[sarahsmi13s]

This Is How It Feels

whumptober day 5: hostage / kidnapping / held at gunpoint

pairing: beau 'cyclone' simpson x daughter!reader

characters: beau simpson, y/n simpson, reagan simpson, ncis: new orleans team, the squad breifly, hayden and frankie, everett north (oc villian), cameron north (deceased)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, kidnapping, torture, guns, blood, waterboarding, loss of will to live, oc character death, revenge killing, if i missed any please tell me!

word count: ~3.2k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

also also, i do want to apologize for getting this up late got distracted while writing it so i finished it later than i had hoped

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: a parent's grief is strong and powerful and it can make you crazy, if the opportunity presents itself to get revenge... you take it

“Simpson!”

You turned at the call of your name, spotting your friends waving to you from the front of a bar. “C’mon! We’re starving!”

Shaking your head, you jogged over. “You two, my goodness,” you laughed before you all walked in. “Are you sure we can even eat here? It’s a bar.” “We’ve eaten at the Hard Deck before,” your friend, Hayden, said as she walked over to a table.

“Okay okay, you have a point there. Just don’t try anything stupid, we’re all repping the school, but I’m also repping the Navy and my dad. So if any of you try to pull-”

“Relax, Simpson, I left my fake ID in California,” Frankie, your best friend said as she nudged you playfully.

“Simpson?” 

You looked up to see an older gentleman standing there with an apron around his waist. 

“As in Beau Simpson?” He asked, looking over your face quizzically.

You nodded, “Yes sir, he’s my dad.” The man chuckled, “Yeah, I know your dad, grew up down the street from my mama. I’m sure he hasn’t talked about me much, I’m Dwayne Pride – folks around here call me King.”

“Oh! Yeah, Dad did tell me about you,” you said with a smile and stood up to shake his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Dwayne chuckled, “You can call me Dwayne…” He trailed off, brow arched as he silently prompted you to fill in the blank. “Y/N, I’m Y/N.” He smiled and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You sat back down, but looked up at him. “Now, is your mama Reagan Autry?” You nodded, “Sure is!” He chuckles, “I knew they’d last. Anyhow, what can I get y’all to drink?”

Back in North Island, the squad was at Cyclone’s house for a little get together.

“Where’s Y/N?” Mav asked, sipping his drink as Beau sat down. “Oh her culture club is visiting New Orleans for Mardi Gras week,” Reagan said as she sat down on the arm on Beau’s chair.

“Now y’all are from NOLA, right?” Jake asked, relaxing back on the couch. They nodded, “Sure are. High school sweethearts at that.” He nodded, “That’s impressive.” “It is, because of all the hours and missed dates over the years because he’s such a hard worker,” she said, kissing the side of Beau’s head.

“I made up for it though,” he chuckled and squeezed her hip. “Yeah, you d-”

Reagan’s statement was cut off by Beau’s phone ringing.

He furrowed his brow and picked it up, checking the caller ID to see that it was Frankie.

“I better take this, excuse me,” he sat his drink down and stood before going out on the back patio.

He closed the door as he answered, “Frankie? What’s-” 

“Y/N’s been taken!” 

Beau froze, the breath being pulled from his lungs. “W-what?” Frankie was hyperventilating on the other end, “W-we were get-getting something fr-from the vending machine and-and-and some guy c-came up and t-took her. I tried to he-help b-but she-she told me to run.” 

Frankie sobbed, even though he couldn’t see her he knew she was pacing the hotel room 

“I-I’m sorry…” 

He had to remain calm, knowing that she would freak out if he did. “Frankie, Frankie, you need to breathe sweetheart. I know you’re scared, but I need you to listen to me. There’s a bar, it’s called the Tri-Tone, you need to go there and find Dwayne Pride.”

She sniffed, “W-Why Dwayne Pride?” “He’s an NCIS Agent, he’s the team leader down there and he can help.” She coughed a little, “O-okay…” He took a breath and glanced back inside, seeing his wife leaning on the wall and watching him carefully. “Frankie, I’ll try to be down there soon. Stay safe and be on alert.” “Y-yes sir.” 

He hung up and ran a hand over his face before turning to go back inside.

His eyes stayed on the floor as he closed the door behind him and leaned on it. “Beau… Honey, is everything okay? Is Y/N okay?” 

The concern in Reagan’s voice grabbed the squad’s attention and they looked over concerned.

“Uh.. She.. She was taken… Y/N and Frankie were getting something from the vending machine.. and–and some guy took her…” Beau looked up and met her eyes, tears filling his, “Someone took her…”

Reagan collapsed, Beau catching her just before she could hit the floor. “No! No! Not her, not our baby girl! Please,” she sobbed, her manicured nails biting at his shoulder as she clung to his shirt.

Beau couldn’t say anything as he held up his wife, trying to be strong for her and not break down in front of the squad.

But it was hard. 

I mean of course it was. 

You, his baby girl, in the hands of some stranger. It was his worst nightmare come to life.

Cold. Damp. Dark. 

Those were the words you would have used to describe the room you were in. The only light on in the room was a yellow bulb swinging in its cage above your head. The chill nipped at your exposed skin, having been stripped of the clothes you were in when you were taken. The room smelled of mildew, and you knew that any water ride you ever went on would remind you of this room.

Your arms were tied above your head, spread in a ‘Y’ to keep you from attempting to free yourself despite being in chains. Your bare feet scraped the rough concrete, your toenail polish being scraped off and leaving red, pink, and white streaks on the floor.

If you had to guess, you’d been there about 12 hours, if not a whole day.

The man that took you had only been in the room one other time and it was to tighten the gag in your mouth. It was a relief that was all, but you had a sinking gut feeling that he had something in store for you.

Your view of the room was awful, you could only see the staircase in front of you, the small window at the top of the wall letting in the moonlight and illuminating the assortment of instruments on the workbench underneath it. If there were worse things behind you, you couldn’t see it. But if what you could see was any indication, there was a reason you were here.

All you could do was pray that Frankie got help and that someone was on their way to save you.

“What do we know?” Dwayne asked as he came in, Beau and Reagan following behind him. “Any updates?” 

Chris and Tammy turned, heads tilted in confusion as to why they were there. But they continued when Pride nodded.

“We were just sent this photo anonymously, Patton’s tracing it now.” Sebastian put the photo on the plasma.

The photo was a newspaper being held by cracked manicured nails but the face in the background was too covered to be enhanced effectively. 

“However, there’s no way to determine-”

“That’s her,” Reagan spoke up, tears gathering in her eyes. “That’s my baby girl…” 

Dwayne looked from her and up to Beau, “Are you sure?” She nodded and held up her own hand, “We got a matching manicure before she left…” Reagan turned and sobbed into Beau’s shoulder.

“She was playing with her brothers when she was young and scraped her left hand on the brick wall, the scar never went away,” Beau added for more confirmation that the hand in the photo did belong to you.

Dwayne nodded, “Then there’s hope, it’s a proof of life photo.” 

All the Admiral could do was nod before holding his wife close and silently cry with her.

It had been 5 days since you had been abducted. 

5 agonizing days.

Beau was a wreck, he was falling apart with worry. With fear. Anything awful that came to Beau’s mind, it’s what they were doing to you. And it wasn’t getting better.

Because they hadn’t heard anything else from your abductor. Patton’s trace led them to a library computer, where they were able to obtain security footage but no one in the film looked suspicious. All the team could do was tell the library staff to keep a lookout for anything or anyone sketchy.

But other than that, they had nothing.

And they were running out of time.

“Please, stop!” You sobbed as the hot knife ran across your skin. 

The past four days have been non-stop pain. Even when you were given a break so your capture could do whatever, you were in pain. 

You felt like you had zero hope of getting out, of ever seeing your family again. You could only think of your dad, how he must feel. That he may never see you again, his only daughter, taken from him.

“No! He has to know the pain! The suffering I went through because of him!” 

Him.

That was all he ever referred to this mystery man as. Never said a name or anything other than ‘him’ or ‘he’.

“Who?! Who are you talking about?” You screamed before a fist collided with your stomach, the slick slap of his fist on your wet, bloody skin making you sick to your stomach. 

Your skin was littered with cuts, all ranging in depths and lengths but none deep enough to be immediately fatal. 

No.

It had to be slow.

Whomever this ‘he’ was had to experience the same pain your capture felt.

The man hit you again, smearing your own blood across your face and bruising your swollen skin. 

You cried out, begging for him to stop and to let you go as he walked away. Your voice was raw and broken, cracking as you desperately pleaded. 

“Let me go! Please! I just wanna go home…”

“My daughter never came home, why should I let his?” 

You blinked, not sure what he meant by that. 

“I’m sorry about your daughter… I am… but why inflict this on someone else? Why take someone else’s daughter away?”

He didn’t answer you and released the tension on your chains, sending you to your knees harshly and reopening the wounds on your knees. 

Grunting, he took long strides back over to you. 

You knew what he was after and you tried to crawl away, scraping your palms on the concrete. But you could only crawl so far and so fast. 

Your entire body throbbed and your blood made the floor slick. Your capture was faster than you were in your weak state. He grabbed your hair, yanked you back and grabbed you by the throat. Your yelp was cut short as he applied pressure, cutting off your air flow.

Weakly, you tried to claw at him, get him to let go, but he wouldn’t. He squeezed until your eyes rolled back and you passed out.

Beau paced the living room of his childhood home, waiting on Pride to arrive.

Dwayne had called, telling him they needed his help identifying a man and that they had a lead, a promising one.

He wasn’t given any other details, but even that was enough to give him some hope. It had been over a week, so this was gold to them.

The normally calm and collected admiral nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a knock at the door. He raced over and pulled it open, revealing the two agents behind it.

“King, Agent Gregorio,” he greeted, stepping to the side to let them both in. They nodded their thanks to him before they went to the kitchen.

“We’re gonna get right into this, Admiral, you and your wife have waited over a week for something like this,” Tammy said, with sympathy in her voice as she held the evidence bag and a printed photo up. 

Dwayne took the evidence bag, “This was in a book returned to the library early this morning.” He turned it to show the folded up notebook paper, the words, “FROM ONE FATHER TO ANOTHER THIS IS HOW IT FEELS” scrawled sloppily across the page in red ink and what looked to be blood droplets and a bloody fingerprint on the paper. 

“The blood is fresh, as old as this mornin’...” Beau didn’t have to ask, there was no other person whose blood it could be. But he needed the confirmation, no matter how sick it made him feel. “Is-Is it…” Both agents nodded, Tammy speaking, “Sebastian ran the print… it’s Y/N’s. The blood is her’s as well…”

Beau gripped the back of the chair to keep him from falling, Dwayne coming to his side to help him sit down.

“Do-do you know who sent it?” 

Tammy sat the photo down, “We were hoping you might.” He picked up the print and looked at it, recognizing the face instantly. “Yeah, yeah, that’s Everett North… His daughter, Cameron, was under my command a few years ago. She died on a mission.”

They nodded looking at each other, Tammy stepping out to call Chris and tell him to look up Cameron’s name. 

Beau runs a hand down his face, “He blames me for Forest’s death and is taking it out on my daughter…”

Everett sat in a chair, fiddling with a hose waiting for you to wake up. 

You were laying on the freezing floor, the only warmth being the pool of blood you were laying in. You weren’t sleeping so much as laying unconscious, passing out from the previous day's torment. You knew what today held, the same as yesterday. 

That’s what it was, a routine. Torture of all kinds day in and day out. Pain and suffering, that’s all it ever was.

You didn’t want to open your eyes, wake up to another day of this. You were sick, coughing and shivering as the cold basement plus your wet skin plagued you. Your wounds were infected. Your throat was raw from screaming, but Everett managed to pull them from you still. 

And you knew what was in store for you today… but keeping your eyes closed would only delay the inevitable.

You cracked your swollen eyes open, weakly trying to push yourself up. 

“They’re she is,” he gruffed out before getting up and turning the hose on. He puts his thumb over the opening on the hose, spraying you in the face with the freezing water. 

You could only weakly yelp before he was coming over and pulling you to your feet and dragging you to the table on the back wall.

“No, no, no, please, please don’t…” You protest weakly, still trying to fight him. 

“Stop fightin’, you know it's no use,” he said coldly before putting you on the table and strapping you down before running the cold water over your cuts and burns.

You whimpered, squirming to get away despite it being futile. 

He just laughed before covering your face with a towel and soaking it with the hose.

“Everett North, his daughter was Cameron North. Cameron was killed after her plane crashed and she was taken by the enemy. She was held and tortured for two weeks before her body was dumped back at the wreckage for search and rescue to find,” Gregorio started.

Chris was next, “After seeing her at the Tri-Tone and following her to her hotel, North abducted Y/N. She has been with him for a little over a week. But she isn’t trained like military personnel is, she’s only 18 and what Lieutenant North went through was intense and extensive. We don’t know if Y/N can handle it.”

“Okay, do we know where he lives?”

“Sebastian is–”

“I found it! I’ve got his address!” Sebastian shouted as he stood up.

With that the team jumped up and got their gear.

The moment the towel was yanked off your face you started coughing up the water you inhaled, lifting your head so you don’t choke on it again.

Everett started and ended with the same method. That's how you knew your day was over.

He unstrapped you from the table and watched you weakly roll until you fell onto the ground limply.

“Please… just kill me…” 

Your plea was weak as you continued to cough up water. You hated that you had gotten to that point so soon. That you could pull through for just a little longer. But you were in agony, body broken and bloody. You didn’t want your parents to see you like this.

“Oh no no no, your dad has to feel the same pain I felt.”

You look over your shoulder, “M-My dad? What did my dad do to you?” Everett reaches down and grabs your hair, pulling you up to your knees.

“He killed my daughter, I’m only returning the favor,” he hissed, yanking down to put you on your back.

You yelped, your head making contact with the ground. “My dad would never do that!” He kicked you across the face, “Shut up! You don’t know!”

You went to retort but you could hear movement upstairs.

And that’s when you felt your will to live enter your body again. 

“Help! I’m down here, help me!”

You could hear the flurry of footsteps to the basement door and Everett pulled you to your feet.

He held most of your weight and pointed a gun at your neck as the door flew open and agents ran down the stairs.

“Everett North! NCIS put your weapon down!”

“Come any closer and I’ll shoot her!”

Everything suddenly became blurry, the voices around you muddling together. You didn’t know exactly what was happening but you could only assume it was shock or your body finally letting go and relaxing because you had a chance of living.

But before you learned the answer, everything went black as a gunshot rang out.

The first thing you noticed as you woke up was the incessant beeping of a heart monitor. Next was the fact that the lights were off. Then it was the weight of a large, calloused hand in yours.

“D-Daddy?” You rasped out, attempting to squeeze his hand. 

Beau’s head whipped up, “Oh, baby…” “Daddy, I-I’m so sorry,” you nearly sobbed out. “Shhh shh baby girl, no, it’s not your fault. It’s never your fault.”

All you could do was nod before you started coughing. 

He was quick to react, getting you a cup of water and offering it for you to take, afraid that if he tried to help he’d send you into a panic.

You take it and sip it carefully before giving it back to him. He grabbed your hand, “I’m so glad you’re okay, sweetheart. I’m so sorry this happened.” You shake your head, “Not your fault… he-he blamed you… but it’s not your fault.”

He smiled gently at you before pushing hair behind your ear and kissing your forehead and you sent him an identical smile. “What matters is that I’m okay… well that I will be okay.” He nodded and kissed your hand, “Yeah, you’re gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

taglist: @valmare @fanboyswhore9 @bradleybeachbabe @cassiemitchell @startrekfangirl2233 @horseshoegirl @nightowlalltheway @86laura11 @kmc1989 @mayhemmanaged

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

[kiraxcute]

Iceman: Mav, you’re on speaker please behave

Maverick: Or what you’ll spank me?

Cyclone: *facepalms*

Iceman: Mav-

Maverick: OH GOD

[lieutenantfloyd]

Cyclone: I found a note in one of my old word .docs that said Note to self: Get revenge on Maverick. Cyclone: Except I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get revenge for. Cyclone: But I trusted my own judgment, so I went with it. Maverick: Hmm... I don't know what you were supposed to get revenge for, either. Cyclone: I can only assume you got what was coming to you. Not 100 percent sure, though. Maverick: Well, whatever I did, I guess I deserved it. Cyclone: Let that possibly be a lesson to you.

[fangirling-tussisque-noncaelatur]

[topgunshenanigans]

Maverick after destroying another one of Cyclones precious F-18’s: “I don’t see what the problem is.”

Cyclone: “it’s y o u”

Maverick: “well ok then :(”

[topgunreacts]

Something that I don't see people talking about enough is how Cyclone is sooo puppy coded. He is the REAL blorbo babygirl of the TGM cinematic experience. Think about it. Every time Maverick does something he doesn't like, Cyclone immediately goes after him right away. Like a little german shepherd puppy that thinks it's already a big scary dog.

And then the second Maverick pushes back, Cyclone just goes full on nappy time, rolling over and letting Maverick get his way. All bark, no bite. He is SOFT. He is SENSITIVE. Much more sensitive than he lets on. All he wants is to be respected and acknowledged for the big powerful man that he is, and he's good.

Part 2: Cyclone and shifting, or how I made a baby with my favorite TGM character in another dimension *and* got my child support covered <3