#lieutenant natasha trace

[liahswriting]

Call Sign: Sweetheart: Part 2

Relationship(s): Lt. Natasha "Phoenix" Trace/Original Female Character

Words: 16,398 (I am so sorry)

Warnings: None

Summary: Due to popular demand (really, I only needed 1 person to ask for this lmao) here is a part 2 to Call Sign: Sweetheart. Sorry it's so long. I had trouble trying to come up with a plot and connecting it to the previous fic. I didn't intent to make a part two so I had a lot of filler. Anyway, enjoy.

Phoenix had set her alarm on her phone the night before. She needed to be up early so she could head back to her hotel, get herself cleaned up, straighten out her uniform, and make it to base on time. It was day one of whatever TOPGUN had in store for her. Plus she had to walk back to her hotel. So it was imperative she woke up early enough to give herself the time she needed to get presentable. But she was also considerate of her bed mate beside her. She set her alarm for the early hours, but kept the volume down low enough to not disturb Sweetheart.

But when the alarm went off, despite its soft tone chiming in her ear, Phoenix woke to see Sweetheart up and at 'em as well. Sweetheart rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned wide while she scratched her tangled hair, seemingly forgetting for a moment that she wasn't alone in bed. Once Phoenix squirmed into an upright position, it was when Sweetheart realized her presence.

"Morning." Sweetheart smiled.

"Morning. Did I wake you? I tried to keep the volume down." she said apologetically.

"You can pull the girl out of the Navy, but the training sticks with you. I haven't slept through an alarm since I was fifteen."

"I figured you would've adjusted back to civvy life over the last two years." commented Phoenix.

"I wish." laughed Sweetheart. "Do you know how much easier my life would be if I could go a single day without connecting anything to the Navy? And being able to sleep consistently for more than three hours?"

"But that's what makes life fun!" the other woman taunted. They shared a smile with each other, watching as the life in each other's eyes take over their color. Sweetheart loved Phoenix's eyes.

"You getting ready to head out?" Sweetheart suddenly broke the moment. Phoenix realized her mission and sprung into action, grabbing her forgotten uniform and putting it on.

"I have to walk back to my hotel and finish getting ready. I might do a dry bath if I can."

"I'll drive you back. That'll give you some more time to get ready." she said, jumping from the bed and grabbing her shoes.

"You don't have to-" Phoenix went to go dismiss the woman. Her timeliness wasn't Sweetheart's problem to deal with. Phoenix knew she'd be in this predicament when she agreed to stay the night.

"I wouldn't be happy knowing I was the reason you missed your report time. I had you for the night, I can say goodbye for the day."

"Seriously, you don't have to-"

"Shut up." Sweetheart smirked and then placed a gentle kiss on her cheek to keep her quiet. "No room for arguing. Come on. If we leave now, you can take an actual shower."

Phoenix just huffed out a laugh. Sweetheart didn't take no for an answer. Neither did Phoenix, honestly, but Sweetheart always won the fight. So she stopped trying to deny the offer of a ride, and laced up her boots. Once Sweetheart had her shoes on, she grabbed a jacket to cover herself up, and then both women left the hotel, got in her car, and drove off to Phoenix's hotel.

"Let me know what's going on, yeah? If you guys need anything, I'm happy to make a food run." Sweetheart tossed out through the window as Phoenix exited the car.

"I have a feeling we're gonna need it." laughed Phoenix.

"I got a new phone, but Rooster has my number. Just shoot me a text."

"Will do." and Phoenix turned to walk off.

"Tasha!"

"Yeah?" she turned around and quirked and eyebrow.

"It was good seeing you again." Phoenix's eyebrow dropped and a genuine smile replaced it.

"You too. I'll talk to you later."

And then she disappeared into her hotel. Sweetheart sat behind the steering wheel for a moment, letting everything from the past 24 hours sink in. It hit her all at once, that it happened. It was real. And then she squealed and did a happy dance in her seat like she was in high school and just got asked to the prom.

"Holy shit." she murmured to herself. "Okay, get yourself together."

She should go out and buy something pretty to wear. And take Tasha out on a date. Yeah. She put her car in drive and almost sped her way back to her hotel so she could put on some real clothes. Clothes that wouldn't make people grimace at her and dare to ask her why on Earth she decided to go out in public in them.

She dolled up a little bit: dressed in some decent clothes, ran a brush through her hair, brushed her teeth. And then she headed out again. It was early. Not many places would be open at this hour. If the sun wasn't up, neither were people. But there was always a boutique open somewhere in California. Heavy tourism practically demanded it. And she was determined to find it. A simple Google search told her what stores were open and where they were located. There weren't many, but it was a start.

Today was a day for pampering. She deserved it after everything she's been through. And now she has Tasha back in her life. Who, by the way, hasn't sent a single message yet. Sweetheart kept looking at her phone as she shopped around, hoping either she or Rooster would pop in with an update.

"It's only been an hour. Calm down." she told herself and then stuffed her phone back in her pocket.

She rummaged through another rack of clothes. Nothing popped out at her. She wanted something nice that Phoenix would like. Phoenix once made a comment about a shirt Sweetheart had -a dark navy blue shirt that Sweetheart had dubbed her 'I don't have anything to wear' shirt. Phoenix said she looked good in it. Sweetheart hadn't ever taken a second look at her shirt until then. After that, it was her favorite shirt to wear and would find as many opportunities to wear it as possible. Until it got bleach on it. It was a sad farewell.

Sweetheart felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Excitedly, she pulled it out. Her smile fell when the notification ended up being the daily weather forecast. Sunny. Gee, who would've taken a guess at that. She put her phone away again...... After looking at it one more time in hopes Phoenix or Rooster would say something.

Sweetheart spent a few hours shopping around. She managed to find something nice to wear. Even bought a pair of shoes to go with it since she only brought her sneakers and her sandals. After that, she grabbed a quick brunch and a drink. All the while still staring at her damn phone. Seriously? Not a single text from either of them?! Her mom sent her a text though asking for a check-in. Making sure she's still alive and whatnot.

After brunch, she decided to walk along the pier. Anything to keep her mind off of the fact that TASHA ISN'T TEXTING! LIKE SHE SAID SHE WOULD!

It was warm outside. Not hot, just warm. It felt nice. Reminds Sweetheart of the time she and Phoenix went to the beach when they had an off day from work. Off days were few and far between, so they made sure to do anything and everything they could cram into those 24 hours. Sweetheart remembers one time when she got attacked by an entire grouping of seagulls because they saw she had a pretzel. Instead of helping, Phoenix was laughing her ass off and video taping it. And then Sweetheart tripped in the sand the seagulls covered over her fallen body as they attacked the pretzel that had been tossed from her hand.

"You should've just let it go." Phoenix hardly got the words out because she was laughing too damn hard.

"I paid ten-fucking-dollars for it! I wasn't gonna waste it!"

Sweetheart laughed as she thought back on it. She didn't laugh then, but now it was hilarious. She wonders if Phoenix still has that video?

There were a lot of memories here from when they were first at TOPGUN all those years ago. Like here on the pier, where they watched the sun set and then kissed like they were in a movie. And over there by the shops where Phoenix almost accidentally stole something because it got caught on her foot as she was walking out and the staff practically chased her down for it. And there by the ice cream parlor where they had their first official date. They had been together for months on base before they could actually go out and do something. At the time they were in a rush and could only spare a few moments. So they grabbed ice cream here, got some drinks at the Hard Deck, then went back to base. It wasn't much, but it was the beginning of something good.

Soon enough, the day had come and gone, the sun was setting, and Sweetheart was ready to head back to her hotel. Still no sign from Phoenix or Rooster. She had half a mind to send a text out just to make sure they were all good. She was sure they were just held up with training, or whatever it is they're doing. At this point, she probably wouldn't hear from either one of them until tomorrow after they had gotten some sleep. So she just ordered a late dinner, put her phone on the charger, and decided to shower while she waited for her food to arrive.

The hot water felt nice. The type of nice after a long day when you're just so worn out. Where you've spent hours upon hours just working yourself to death. Sweetheart remembers one time during training when she was just pushed well past her limits. It had several days of testing her mental capabilities in the air, as well as working her physical body to peak perfection. She had been ready to collapse, but held out because Rooster was going to throw Phoenix a birthday party at his place, and Sweetheart wanted to be there.

The party started off fine. There were some drinks, lots of music, games, and whatnot. Tasha was living it up, as she should seeing that she was the birthday girl. When presents started passing around, Sweetheart just felt something inside her shut down. She got dizzy and the room started to spin. The last thing she remembered was Tasha and Rooster rushing to her side, and then it just went black. When she woke up, she found herself in Rooster's bed with a worried Tasha wiping at her forehead with a wet cloth.

"You had me so worried!" she practically screeched, throwing her arms around Sweetheart in a tight hug.

"I guess I was just overworked. It's been a long week, Tasha. I'm sorry I ruined your birthday."

After getting some cold fluids in her from an equally worried Rooster, Sweetheart was then taken to the bathroom with promises of relaxation. Tasha had filled the tub with warm water and some of Rooster's bath soap. She then stripped the both of them of their clothes and they stepped into the steaming water. Tasha sat behind Sweetheart, keeping her arms around the tired frame of her girlfriend. She peppered kisses to her clammy shoulder and all Sweetheart could do was melt against her touch. They stayed like that for what felt like forever. But it was Sweetheart's favorite place to be.

Sweetheart heard her phone beep from the other room, pulling her out of her memory and excitedly peeking her head behind the shower curtain. It was either Phoenix or Rooster, or her food. And while she hoped it was the first option, she wouldn't be upset if her food was almost here.

She quickly scrubbed the last of the conditioner out of her hair, rinsed off the last of the body wash, turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped a towel around her as she entered the bedroom. She grabbed her phone to see a new text message from an unknown phone number. All it said was her name followed by a question mark. It was Tasha!

"Hey, how was first day of TOPGUN?" she replied back. A second later, a new text message came through.

"A lot has happened. Free to talk?"

"Yeah, just one second. Just got out of the shower."

"Without me? :)"

Sweetheart had to contain herself from squealing again. But a blush was heavy on her cheeks. She could feel it. Quickly she got dressed in some pajamas and then dialed Phoenix's number.

"Took you long enough." Phoenix joked.

"Sorry. Been lost in thought for awhile."

"Thinking about?"

"You." Sweetheart gave the one-worded answer easily. She heard the other woman hitch her breath through the phone.

"And? Care to share with the class what's got you all distracted?" Phoenix urged with a teasing lust.

"Hmm. We'll save that conversation for another day. As much as I love phone sex, I'm really interested in what happened today." she said and Phoenix huffed.

"Where do I begin?" she asked rhetorically. "Hangman was being his usual asshole self, for starters."

"I don't even want to imagine how arrogant he was."

"He gets one air-to-air kill and makes it his entire personality, and then thinks that will single-handedly make him qualified for this mission."

"Mission? You guys got called back for a mission?" Sweetheart interrupted, a worried glower in her eyes as she stared at nothing.

"Yeah. Not really sure how much I'm allowed to share, but basically we've all been asked back to take down an enemy plant. And Hangman seems to think he's the only one qualified for the job. Him and Rooster kept butting heads during BFM training. Which, ultimately, cost me."

"Whatdyu mean? Hangman didn't kill your chances, did he?"

"No. Not yet, at least. But my arms are still sore from having to do 200 pushups thanks to Payback's stupid gamble."

"Why the fuck would Payback gamble out 200 pushups?!" Sweetheart asked in surprise. That was stupid, even for him. "I hope he had to join you in that punishment."

"Oh he did, don't you worry. Although it's making me wish you were here, ya know. With you as my partner, we've never lost."

"I wasn't sure with myself if I could stomach being back here." she admitted solemnly. This wasn't the time to get into the topic, but something had to be said. "I wasn't positive that I could handle the memories of what happened. Or having to face you on the off chance you wouldn't forgive me. I figured this was the safest course of action for me."

"Listen, I'm not blaming you for your decision. I get it. And I want you to do what's best for yourself. But that doesn't stop me from missing you behind me."

"Funny, usually you're behind me. Quite honestly, I prefer it that way." Sweetheart changed the conversation to something more light-hearted. And the innuendo was not lost on Phoenix. The brunette practically snorted with laughter.

"Well, keep sweet-talking me like that and we'll see what happens."

"Is that a promise, Lieutenant?"

"Oh it absolutely is."

"What's the time-frame for the mission? Is there any room for me to wiggle in at some point?"

"The entire thing is gonna be a few weeks. And based on what the Captain outlined, it's gonna be pretty loaded and hard-hitting until we set out for the actual mission." explained Phoenix.

"Damn." Sweetheart huffed. "You'll have to keep me updated."

"I will." Phoenix promised. "Oh! And speaking of the Captain, does the name Captain Pete Mitchell ring a bell at all? Call sign: Maverick?"

The question threw Sweetheart for a loop. What that had to do with anything, she wasn't sure. But she thought on it anyway. It took her a minute to rack through her brain for the name. It rang a bell. A small, quiet bell. But a bell nonetheless.

"Uh. Yeah. Kind of. He's another TOPGUN graduate, right? Supposed to be one of the best in the entire Navy. Why?"

"Rooster's got beef with him. Serious beef. And it manifested in training today -almost cost him his life. I tried to talk to him about it, but Rooster shut me out. I was wondering if you knew anything. He's got me worried."

Hearing the confession made her choke on air. Rooster was her friend, and just the thought of him being so careless like that and almost dying had her worried beyond belief. Rooster was not one to be so reckless. Hell, that's how he got the call sign Rooster. He waits. He's calculated. He's safe. What's going on?

"I haven't talked to Rooster, like actually talked, in at least a year. Maybe more." Sweetheart admitted. "But, even still, he never brought up the name Maverick before."

"It was worth a shot...." Phoenix trailed off. "Maybe you can talk to him. See what's going on. Because not only is he putting his life in danger, he's putting the rest of ours as well. If he gets kicked off this mission, we're left with Bagman. And, at that point, we might as well just say game over for us all."

"I'll talk to him. You're right; if Hangman is in charge, no one is gonna be coming home."

Sweetheart and Phoenix chatted for a bit more. Sweetheart's dinner arrive shortly and Phoenix had bid her a goodnight so she could eat in peace. Plus Phoenix had to be up early again tomorrow and she needed the sleep after the day she had today.

The following day panned out similar to the previous day. Sweetheart spent most of her time alone, just aimlessly walking about as she tried to pass the time until she could call Rooster and talk to him. She worried for her friend. Rooster had always been there for her, even when she shut him out, so the least she could do was lend an ear to him.

Her phone was silent all day as both Phoenix and Rooster were occupied with their training. It had to be brutal. She wondered just what they were up to. She remembered her time at TOPGUN -it wasn't fun at first. You were put through the ringer and tested on not only the things you knew but also the things you didn't know. But it wasn't all bad. There were good times at TOPGUN. The friends you make, the gratifying feeling of accomplishing something, and plus you get to fly fighter jets. Like, who wouldn't want to do that?!

Being in the backseat was a great feeling. Having Phoenix be her wingman in the sky was what made everything fun and worth it. Sweetheart missed it, and she somewhat started to question her decision to turn down the call. No one would ever be able to fly a plan smoother than Phoenix. No one would ever make Sweetheart feel as safe in a flying weapon as Phoenix did. They were a team. And she felt like she let her teammate down. Who did Phoenix even get paired up with? She didn't ask.

After dinner, Sweetheart spent a few hours at The Hard Deck just talking with Penny to keep herself occupied. Penny was a sweet woman and coming back here felt like coming back home. Penny asked her how she was doing, what she was up to, and all that good stuff. They talked as the older woman handed out drinks. Sweetheart suddenly had a thought, and decided to try her luck with it.

"What can you tell me about Pete Mitchell?" Sweetheart asked, taking a sip of her rum and coke.

"Maverick? What about him?" questioned the woman.

"Just wondering. I'm told him and Rooster aren't getting along."

"Oh. That." Penny said, sparking Sweetheart's interest. She leaned against the bar top trying to get closer for the details. "Listen, it's not really my place to talk about it. Have you talked to Rooster?"

Sweetheart sat back, dejected at not having any gossip to invest in. She took another sip of her drink.

"Waiting for him to be dismissed. Phoenix told me she tried to get something out of him, but he kept quiet. It's got me worried."

"Rooster is a grown man. You can't make him talk if he doesn't want to. But at least he's got a friend like you to go to if he does want to talk."

"Well, I owe him that much. I'm gonna go try him, see if he's done for the day."

She left her half finished drink on the bar and walked outside where it was quieter. She pulled out her phone and dialed Rooster's number. As expected, the call got forwarded to his voicemail. She left the standard message: hey, it's me, just calling to check in on ya. Call me back. Ya know, that spiel. But less than 60 seconds later, he called her right back.

"Rooster?"

"Hey, what's up."

"Nothing. Just calling to get my daily report." she chuckled lightly. "I got the basic run down from Tasha yesterday. Anything new today?"

"Not really. It's tough out here but we're all managing." Rooster replied easily, yet the tone of his voice was curt.

"Yeah? Even with Hangman on your ass?"

"He's not helping, but it could be worse."

"Hey, can I ask you a personal question?" Sweetheart gingerly steered the topic.

"Uh, sure?"

"Can I ask you what your history is with Maverick?" she asked him, and Rooster was silent for several seconds. Sweetheart could just see the veins in his neck twitching as he clenched his jaw.

"And what do you know about Maverick?" he clipped.

"Just asking. Phoenix told me you scared her yesterday with some dangerous stunt you pulled. That's not like you, and it's got me worried."

"It's none of your business!"

"Come on, Bradshaw. You've always been there for me. Let me be there for you." she begged of him. "Tell me what's going on."

"Maverick is the reason my dad is dead....." she heard him spit through the phone. "And then he had the audacity to pull my papers from the Naval Academy and set my career back four fucking years!"

Sweetheart stood silent. The conversation went quiet. The only sounds she could hear were from the bar behind her and from Rooster trying to calm himself with some breathing. Her mouth ran dry as she tried to think of something to say to that. What does she say?

"I'm so sorry, Rooster."

"Listen, I don't wanna fucking get into this right now. I'm tired, okay?"

"Rooster, you gotta promise me you'll keep a level head through this." she pleaded with him. "Whatever's between you and Maverick, it's not worth dying over. It's not worth putting the rest of the team at risk. I care about you and I want you to come home from whatever mission you're on, okay? And afterwards we'll hang out together. You and me. Like old times."

"Yeah, whatever." he tried to play it off. But it wasn't a promise.

"Promise me, Bradley Bradshaw!"

"Okay! I promise."

"Good."

"Listen, I gotta go."

"Call me if you need anything. I'm just twenty minutes away."

And then the call died. And Sweetheart was left standing in the sand, staring at her phone, looking like an idiot that got stood up on a date. She worried about him.

Many days passed and Rooster hadn't called her again. Phoenix did though, and she offered any updates that she could when asked about it. But the updates were very few considering the only thing the team is focused on is mastering their aircrafts. Rooster seemed to calm down over the days based on Phoenix's lack of reporting on out-of-character actions from him. At least that was a good sign.

"So when can I take you out?" she asked the brunette during another one of their phone calls. Sweetheart laid on her hotel bed on her stomach, phone pressed to her ear, and kicking her feet in the air like a teenager.

"How about now?" Phoenix surprised her with her answer.

"Now?"

"Grab a bathing suit. We're going to the beach!"

"What? Beach? You're actually serious."

"Listen, I'm not gonna question it. We've got a free day, and I intend on taking it. So get your cute butt in a bathing suit and get to the beach! Or else I'll drag you from your hotel room myself."

"Actually, I kinda like that sound of that. You gonna bring some rope?" teased Sweetheart. She wiggled her eyebrows as if Phoenix was in front of her. Even thought Phoenix couldn't see it, she sensed it.

"I'll wipe that look off your face. If you follow orders and come to the beach, I'll bring some rope."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Now come on. We're all heading out soon."

Sweetheart excitedly threw herself off the bed and rummaged through her bag for her bathing suit. She knew packing it was a good idea, and now she had the chance to wear it. And it was a cute one too. She got it right before she came to San Diego, hoping to impress Phoenix if their reunion yielded a positive result -which it did.

She tossed on a loose shirt over top of it, put on her sandals, grabbed a towel, and packed a small carry-on of essentials, and then headed to the beach. The ocean wasn't far from her hotel. A bit of a walk, yes, but given the heavy tourism traffic it was much more efficient to walk than to drive.

Today couldn't have been a better day for the beach. The sun was high in the sky, it was hot out, it was just perfect for the water. Sweetheart found a somewhat empty patch of sand and laid out her towel. She waited for Phoenix to text her telling her when they arrived. In the meantime, she covered herself in some sunscreen, flipped down her aviators, and lounged back to bask in the sun's rays. She hoped Tasha would like her bathing suit. What would Tasha be wearing? She's seen the brunette in nothing but a bra and panties before -if you don't count completely naked- and she is a sight to behold. Everything about her was just perfect...... Oh those were some dangerous thoughts to be having in public. Sweetheart looked around as if she could catch if people could read her mind.

Impatiently, Sweetheart watched the clock on her phone tick the minutes. Just waiting for a text, a call, something. And then.....

"We're here. You?"

"Kept me waiting long enough <3 Where are you?"

"We came in through the entrance by the hotel."

"I'll come find you."

Sweetheart quickly grabbed her stuff and practically ran down the beach towards them. She pushed through crowds of people, all of them watching her with irritated expressions as she pretty much gave no second thought to the people she pushed aside. But to hell with it. She didn't care. All she could think about was Tasha.... And maybe Rooster.... But mostly Tasha.

It was easy picking out the group of pilots on the beach. They were the only group where everyone was wearing aviators and had the physique of a military man (or woman). None of them spotted her approaching them, so she took the opportunity to do something cute. Carefully, she set her stuff down just a little ways away from theirs and snuck up behind Tasha, throwing her arms around the woman and yelling 'boo' in her ear. Tasha jumped and quickly whirled around, ready to punch whoever invaded her personal space. But she relaxed when she saw Sweetheart.

"Hey! You made it!" the pilot hugged her tightly.

"Was I not supposed to?" Sweetheart cheekily replied, which prompted a flick on her forehead.

"Hey there, Sweetheart!" Rooster greeted much happier than he did on the phone call. He came and gave her a hug, which caused the others to come give her a hug too. Fanboy hugged her so tightly and picked her up off the sand, making her squeal a bit.

"Didn't realize you were still here, Sweetheart!" he happily cheered.

"Can't get rid of me that easily, Garcia."

"Come on, girl. You gotta stop with the last name." he waved her off.

"Technically not Navy anymore." she reminded him.

"That means nothing. You'll always be one of us!"

"Yeah, Sweetheart. Once a pilot, always a pilot." Payback chimed in.

"Come on, enough talk. Let's play." said Coyote, holding up a football in his hand.

"Later, I'm stealing this cutie for a little bit." Phoenix said, giving a shoulder bump to Sweetheart as she spoke, making said woman conceal a grin. This garnered attention towards her, and she could hear Rooster whistle playfully.

Phoenix took her hand, intertwining their fingers, and pulled her down the shore away from everyone. But Sweetheart could feel eyes on them as they walked away. Everyone was watching them lean against each other and act all lovey dovey. But she didn't care. All she cared about was the woman beside her.

"I didn't realize so many people had been called back." Sweetheart randomly spoke. "Who are the others?"

"Well you already know most of them. The others you've probably heard of. Like Logan 'Yale' Lee and his WSO Brigham 'Harvard' Lennox are part of the Red Rippers. And Callie 'Halo' Bassett is part of the Redcocks." she said, pointing to each person she spoke of. "She's Neil 'Omaha' Vikander's WSO who is part of the Nighthawks."

"And that guy?" Sweetheart asked, pointing to the guy who refused to take his shirt off for whatever reason.

"Robert 'Bob' Floyd. He's my WSO. Comes from Lemoore. He's part of the Screaming Eagles."

"WSO huh? How does he hold up?" Sweetheart wiggled her eyebrow teasingly.

"He's not you, that's for sure." she replied. "But he stands alright. A bit awkward but nice."

"Well not everyone is brave enough to handle you."

"You've never complained before." Phoenix teased back, throwing her arm over Sweetheart's shoulders and pulling her into her side. She pressed a kiss to Sweetheart's cheek.

"I'm not complaining now. Although you did promise to bring some rope." she reminded.

"Later." Phoenix teased. "Right now, I just want to enjoy spending some time with you. It's been so long since it was just the two of us."

"It's not really just the two of us considering we've got those guys watching our every move." she pointed to the gaggle of pilots that seemed to be miles away. They were immersed into their game of football, tackling each other into the sand and cheering each other on. It didn't appear that anyone was on any sort of 'team'.

"Hangman's just upset you won't suck his dick." laughed the brunette. "Rooster just misses you. And the others? Well you let's just say Fanboy had a bet going seeing how long it takes us before we get back together."

"Have you given any thought of us getting back together?"

"I've thought about it a lot." she admitted.

"And?"

"And..... I want to. It's just, I feel really guilty for the things I've said to you. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for treating you like dog shit when you were suffering really bad."

"I don't hate you for it." soothed Sweetheart. "I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at the fact that we had to come to this."

"You could've come to me. I would've done whatever I could to help you."

"I know that. I was just afraid. But not anymore. I'm tired of hiding, and letting this ruin my life. I miss being with you in a fighter jet, traveling the world, taking down the bad guys."

"It's not too late. It could still be you and me." Phoenix turned to her, cupping her face in her hands and stroking her cheeks. "We're a team. We've always been a team. I can't remember a time where it wasn't you in the jet behind me. I don't trust anyone else at my six."

"I already got my discharge. I've been dismissed. It's done."

"But you were called back. That's gotta count for something! Maybe we can get you your RE code, and you can come back. TOPGUN wanted you back, maybe you can reenlist through that and bypass all that paperwork bullshit."

"It's been too long, Tasha." Sweetheart said solemnly. "I'm way too rusty to be in the sky again."

"So you'll have to spend a few weeks back in basics again. So what? It's not the end of the world."

"I don't know, Tasha."

"Please? It's not the same without you."

The two women stood at the edge of the water, staring into each other's eyes as if the rest of the world didn't exist. And, to Sweetheart, it didn't. All she saw was Natasha Trace, the woman she's loved for years. The woman she wanted to marry one day. And the way Phoenix was stroking her cheeks with her thumbs was a comfort that brought back memories of the times she used to caress her face as they lay in bed together, basking in the afterglow of sex, when the endorphins were high and they were drunk on love. Life was boring without Natasha Trace. The transition back to civilian life was an adjustment that Sweetheart never got used to. She missed the Navy. She missed being a pilot. And she was angry that her life was stolen from her by a man who got his kicks abusing his power.

"I'll have to think about it. At the very least, it's too late to come back to TOPGUN. The mission is already underway and you have a new WSO. I won't have a place to fit in."

"After this mission, you and I are gonna spend some time together. And then maybe the Captain will let you do some training to get your wings all polished."

"If he even cares. Speaking of, how's Rooster holding out with Maverick?"

"Rooster's still closing himself off. He's not getting along with the Captain, but at least he hasn't almost killed himself again."

"Well that's good at least."

"Did he tell you what's going on?"

"Yeah, but I don't know if it's my place to share it. It runs deep, Tasha. And, quite frankly, I'm on Rooster's side. If what he says is true, I think his anger is justified. I worry where his head is at, but I don't think he's in the wrong here."

"As long as he doesn't ruin his chances for being on this mission. If I end up with Hangman, I might just drop out of this mission altogether." Phoenix sighed heavily.

"Enough talk about this. Now's not the time to be upset about work. Let's have some fun." Sweetheart attempted to cheer the woman up.

"We could go play football with the guys. Let's go beat their asses. Some of them deserve it."

"I'm always down to beat the shit outta Hangman." she said and both women laughed.

They intertwined their fingers again and turned around to walk back to the group. When they approached, Rooster and Fritz were celebrating triumphantly over something. Rooster flexed his muscles to show off the definition, getting into a muscle show-off with Hangman. But it seemed to be all in good fun as both men laughed and playfully pushed at each other.

"Hey boys." greeted Sweetheart. "Got room?"

"Hey hey, Sweetheart! Come on, girl. You and me!" hollered Fanboy.

"Nah, she's with me. Get your own partner." Phoenix defended.

"Come on, Nat. Don't be like that. We can share!"

"Phoenix? Share? Ha!" Rooster roared out a laugh, stabilizing himself on his knees.

"Phoenix doesn't share, but Sweetheart loves sharing. Ain't that right, darlin?" winked Hangman. Sweetheart wanted to throw up in her mouth. Phoenix was in offense mode, ready to defend her, but she held the brunette back.

"Come on, Hangman. I'll kick your ass no problem. Pick your team and let's fight."

"Ohhoooo, Sweetheart. I'll take that bet. Alright, pretty girl. I'll go easy on you. You can have Rooster and whoever else you pick. You can even pick first."

"Careful, Bagman. I don't think your reputation could sink any further by losing than it already has."

"Then put your money where your mouth is, honey. Make your bet."

"I'm not sucking your dick."

"Come on, guys. Stop fighting and let's play." Fanboy begged with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah, we're here to have fun. It's not that big 'a deal." Fritz followed behind Fanboy, also annoyed at the fight that was brewing.

Both Hangman and Sweetheart dropped the argument for now, but both of them knew it wasn't over. However, Fanboy and Fritz were right. Today was a fun day, and they were all determined to kick back and relax. Everyone split into two teams: Sweetheart, Phoenix, Rooster, Halo, Fanboy, and Bob on one team. Hangman, Coyote, Fritz, Yale, Harvard, and Payback on another. The game was simple -first team to break through the other's defense three times, or whoever got three tackles first would be the winner.

The first round started off with Rooster holding the football, eventually passing it off to Fanboy when he started getting boxed in by Hangman, Fritz, and Yale. Fanboy ended up getting tackled by Harvard and Coyote. The second round had Coyote taking the ball, passing it off to Payback, who passed it off to Harvard. Harvard got to running, ready to elbow through the barricade that Bob, Phoenix, and Halo formed. Sweetheart and Rooster chased after him, reaching out to grasp at him and yank him back until he fell to the ground.

Round three was quick. Sweetheart had the ball and she told Rooster to go long. Rooster ran past everyone, getting to the fake end zone where Sweetheart threw the ball as far as she could. He ended up catching it, scoring the touchdown. And then round four was where it all went wrong. Payback took the ball. He decided to hog it and just brute force his way through the defense. Sweetheart ran behind him, attempting to get a tackle. But she was side swiped by Hangman who just bull slammed her to the ground. She fell onto her shoulder, and she felt something pop.

"FUCK! FUCK GOD DAMN IT!" she wailed out, getting a mouthful of sand as she writhed on the ground.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?!" Rooster angrily slapped at Hangman before rushing to his friend's side. Phoenix knelt to the ground beside her, quickly assessing the damage. And then Captain Mitchell rushed to aid.

"Something popped! Holy shit it hurts!" Sweetheart hissed out.

"Come on, let's get you sitting." Maverick said and both Rooster and Phoenix carefully helped Sweetheart to her butt. She cried out through clenched teeth as the pain radiated down her entire left side.

"Oooooh that doesn't look good." Sweetheart heard Bob whisper out.

"Damn, Hangman. Someone needs anger management classes." Payback had said, and whether or not that was meant to be a joke, Sweetheart didn't take kindly to it.

"Everyone shut the fuck up!"

"You'll be alright." Maverick tried to calm her. "Easy fix. Just take a deep breath." he instructed her as he splayed his palm against her shoulder blade.

Sweetheart braced herself, taking a deep breath like he said, and giving her free hand to Rooster so she could hold onto something in case she passes out. Maverick counted to three, and then shoved the bone back into its socket. Sweetheart cursed to the high heavens when he did that. Pain engulfed her and nausea threatened to consume her. When he told her that everything was back in place, she fell to her back to try and ground herself so she didn't black out.

"That was not cool, man." she heard Coyote say. And when Coyote goes against his own friend, you know Hangman really fucked up. But Hangman didn't seem to think so.

"I'm just playing the game." he chuckled out arrogantly. "Maybe it's best she left the Navy. She can't handle a little tackle football, how is she gonna handle a fighter jet?"

"Bite me, asshole!" she spit at him, wobbling as she got to her feet and readied herself for an actual physical fight.

"Only because you asked oh so nicely, darlin."

"You're real conceited for someone who got one achievement and made it your entire personality! You're just a shit pilot and are trying to cover it up!"

"Between the two of us, which one is still a pilot?" he calmly responded, an ugly smirk plastering his fucking face.

Sweetheart lunged at him, only getting millimeters from him as Rooster held her back. But Phoenix was ready to back her up as she too swiped a fist at him. But Fanboy held her back as well.

"I'll take you outta the sky any day! You're garbage! You couldn't keep up even if we gave you a head start!" claimed Sweetheart.

"Alright! Everyone! Calm down!" yelled Maverick. "That's an order!"

Everyone halted their motions, one by one taking a deep breath and relaxing themselves until the threat of physical violence was no longer a main concern. Rooster still had a hold on her, and Fanboy on Phoenix, but they got shrugged off as the two women made their way into each other's space. And then Maverick caught everyone's attention, but his focus was only on Sweetheart.

"You're a pilot?" he merely asked her. Sweetheart straightened up when he addressed her. Call it force of habit. She ignored the thumping of pain in her shoulder.

"Yes, Sir. I was, Sir."

"Name?" he asked her, and she freely gave it. Former rank, call sign, all of it. "And your service record?"

"I am a TOPGUN graduate. Former WSO for Lieutenant Trace and The Black Aces in Afghanistan. Been stationed all over the East Coast since I was eighteen."

"WSO?" he eyed between the two women curiously. "Are you supposed to be here, Lieutenant."

"I'm not a Lieutenant anymore, Sir. But I did get the call back. I declined it."

"Why?"

"Personal reasons."

"She didn't make the cut. She just won't admit it." taunted Hangman, which riled her up once more. She tried to take a swing at him but was intercepted once more by Rooster.

"I'll leave you in the dust, Bagman! Phoenix and I could take you down before you could finish saying goodbye to your mommy!"

"You wanna bet?!" he spat back.

"I said that's enough!" yelled Maverick once more. He stepped between to two of them, acting as a barrier to prevent any more fighting. "If you really want to take each other on, do it in the air!"

"With pleasure, Sir." Hangman grinned sickeningly. "I will happily take them down."

"I second the motion." chimed Phoenix with an equally sickening tone.

"Alright, everyone calm down." Rooster tried to be the middle man. "We'll talk about this later."

He began to pull both Sweetheart and Phoenix away from the scene, attempting to calm them down as much as he could. Once the three of them were far enough away, they all let out an exasperated sigh and relaxed the tense muscles they hadn't realized were knotted up.

"I really wanna punch him in the face." Sweetheart muttered.

"Trust me, I do too." replied Phoenix.

"Why'd you have to make that stupid bet with him?" asked Rooster. "You do realize that if you don't actually take him up in the air, he's never going to let it go."

"Relax. I doubt the Captain will allow me on base to actually fight him."

"I dunno. Maverick seemed pretty serious about it." said Phoenix.

"Oh please. I'm not even part of the mission. I'm pretty sure unauthorized personnel on sight would be literally kicked out." she tried to wave them off, but her shoulder was still throbbing so she dropped her hand.

"Can we just forget about it? I don't wanna think about Bagman anymore. Not when we have this day to ourselves." begged the brunette pilot.

She was right, so the three of them agreed to put the last ten minutes behind them and continue on with their day like it didn't happen. Sweetheart's recent injury put a stop to any plans they may have had to go swimming, so they opted to just wade in the water for a little while before heading up the beach to grab something to eat. After a quick lunch, Rooster split to give the two women some alone time, which was greatly appreciated.

They enjoyed being able to actually have time with each other after all these years. It made Sweetheart realize that she didn't give Phoenix enough credit as a girlfriend. Being without her the last two years was miserable. And she was positive that had she just been honest about what happened, the present day would be completely different. Maybe she would've stayed in the Navy. Maybe she would've gone back to The Black Aces with Phoenix after graduation.

There was no point in dwelling on the past. The only thing they could do now was rebuild what they lost. And, so far, it was working out perfectly. They walked down memory lane for a little while, revisiting old spots. Then they went back to the water to cool off as the sun got even hotter throughout the afternoon. One game of water tag, a few sandcastles, and a deep tan later, they called it a day and went to go grab dinner at a little seafood diner spot not too far off from the beach. They shared some shrimp, had a few drinks, and Sweetheart even treated her girl to some cheesecake for dessert.

And then Phoenix got the dreaded text message from Rooster that let her know everyone was heading back to base and to meet up with them.

"You gotta go?"

"Yeah." she sighed reluctantly.

"I'll walk you back to the beach. I don't wanna say goodbye yet."

"Awe, you're cute." Phoenix lovingly pinched at her cheek like a mother would her child. Despite Sweetheart slapping her hand away, she couldn't help the blush that painted her face.

They walked back down the beach hand-in-hand. Fingers entwined just a little bit tighter as the shore came into view. Today was a good day, and Sweetheart was already discussing plans on the next time they can get together, much to Phoenix's enjoyment. The brunette kept saying how adorable she was when she was excited.

The group of pilots were visible now. All huddled together around their Captain as he talked to them about something. Hangman responded back, his arrogance clear on his face even from all the way back here. Rooster was annoyed and rolled his eyes. As the two women got closer, they captured the others' attention.

"Didn't think you'd have the balls to show up." Hangman was first to speak. Sweetheart took a deep breath to prevent herself from literally spitting in his face.

"Enough, Lieutenant." Maverick put a stop to it before it could start. "Phoenix, we're heading back. Sweetheart? I'll be seeing you tomorrow morning. Eight am sharp."

"Wait, what?" Sweetheart uttered in surprise and confusion.

"You can back out now if you wanna. I won't hold it against you, swear it." Hangman faux promised, holding his hand up in a scout's honor that everyone knew he wouldn't abide by even if his life depended on it.

"Wait, you're actually serious about letting us fight it out? I'm not a pilot anymore. Surely that breaks some sort of code?" Sweetheart tried to reason with the older man.

"I don't care if you're still active or not. Once a pilot, always a pilot. Besides, it'll be good training for everyone." he responded confidently. "Tomorrow. Eight am. Don't be late."

The Captain walked away, signalling for everyone to follow. They did, but Phoenix stayed back a moment to give Sweetheart a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"It'll be alright." she soothed. "I'll see you tomorrow. And we'll give Hangman a good beating. You and me." Another hug, and she was off, leaving Sweetheart alone to process what just happened.

Sweetheart had a hard time sleeping that night. She was up tossing and turning, picturing what the day ahead was going to consist of. A huge part of her was a bit terrified. It's been two years since she was in a fighter jet. And on top of it, they bet against Hangman of all people. If this didn't go right, he will use it to abuse both her and Phoenix for the rest of their lives. Why did she have to make that stupid bet? It was the heat of the moment, she didn't mean it!

But when the alarm went off at 06:30 am, she couldn't hide any more. She had an hour and a half to get presentable and make it to base or else..... She didn't have her uniform with her -but then again why would she? She didn't expect to go back to TOPGUN. She was just here for Tasha. And Bradley. She hoped a pair of jeans and a plain shirt would suffice. Besides, she'd be putting on a pilot's suit anyway.

She made sure to pay extra attention to her appearance: she gelled her hair a little bit more, parted it in that way she used to when she was still active, pinned back the stragglers she keeps saying she'll get taken care of but never does. Then she brushed her teeth a little bit longer than usual, straightened her shoe laces before tying them up, and flattened down any wrinkles in her clothes. And then she grabbed her car keys and phone, and headed out of the hotel.

She knew the drive to base very well. She hadn't forgotten it at all. It felt like yesterday she was first here with Tasha. Seeing the gates as she pulled up felt like the first time too.

"Can I help you?" a man stopped her. His name badge said Coleman on it.

"Um, hi. I've been called here by Captain Mitchell." Sweetheart responded.

"You must be Sweetheart, then."

"Yes, Sir."

"He's waiting for you. Go on in."

The gates opened, allowing her in. Coleman told her where to park her car and where to meet Maverick, but she already knew that, and she was able to get her shit together fairly quickly despite panicking hardcore on the inside. Walking towards the hangar didn't help one bit, and seeing everyone anxiously huddled and looking around didn't help either. She caught Phoenix's eyes -the woman smiling widely at her appearance- and found herself relaxing slightly. Tasha always calmed her.

Phoenix ran her way, meeting her in the middle, and throwing her arms around her shoulders.

"I was afraid you'd back out." she whispered in her ear.

"I almost did. Honestly? I feel like puking." Sweetheart responded back.

"You'll be fine. There's nothing you and I can't do."

"It's not about not being able to do it. It's more like if we don't beat Hangman, it'll be the end of our careers. Or, well, your career and my life."

"No. Don't act like that." she sternly pointed a finger. "We'll kick his ass and make him cry. He deserves it."

"I'll do my best, Lieutenant." Sweetheart playfully saluted, making the brunette laugh. They then walked back to the group, ready to face the music.

Hangman didn't even try to hide his arrogance. He was twirling that ugly toothpick like he always does, the whites of his teeth shining behind his lips as he smiled over the wood. Sweetheart hated when he did that. The toothpick was a stupid signature trademark of his. It didn't make sense to her. He probably thought it made him look tough, but really it just made him look like even more of an asshole than he already was.

"You ready to lose, darlin'?"

Exhibit A.

"I hope we get your defeat on camera, Bagman. I want to replay it every night before I go to sleep." Phoenix was quick to retort. Her comment did little, if any, to deter him.

"Alright, everyone take a seat. We'll do a quick rundown on the course and then you'll get in your jets.." Maverick interrupted.

No one argued against him and took their seats in the makeshift classroom in the center of the hangar. Everyone appeared to be sitting with their wingman -as evident by the fact that Phoenix was sandwiched in between Bob and Sweetheart. Sweetheart, her former WSO. Bob, her current one.

"Alright. You guys have had your practice with dogfighting. But that skill is reserved for an as-needed situation. Your main goal is to simply navigate." Maverick began to explain, bringing up a holographic layout of a mountainous terrain. "The terrain is hidden in a canyon range, guarded by surface-to-air missiles. Your task will be to navigate below these SAMs along the canyon with a max ceiling of one hundred feet." he said so casually, but both Sweetheart and Phoenix shared an oh shit look with each other. No way this guy was serious. One hundred feet? In an F-18? That was suicide!

"He's not serious?" Sweetheart muttered to Phoenix, but her doubt was heard loud and clear.

"Oh, I'm very serious." said Maverick, looking directly at her. "But because this is just a training session, I'll go easy on you. You will not exceed a max ceiling of three hundred feet. You will not have to worry about dodging any missiles. All you have to do it navigate this canyon and take out a marked target on the ground. You'll have three minutes to complete this course. Exceed three minutes, you lose. Go above three hundred feet, you lose. Any questions?"

"Yeah, I don't have a WSO. A little unfair, don't ya think?" Hangman quipped with a hand raised like he was in grade school again. Maverick didn't answer, instead passing the reins to the two women who merely exchanged a silent look. Phoenix shrugged. Sweetheart quirked an eyebrow. Phoenix twitched her lips. And then Sweetheart shrugged.

"We'll be nice and let you choose your own WSO." answered Phoenix.

"Alright.... Fanboy."

"Dude, really?" whined said WSO. He pouted like a child.

"Shut up, dude. You'll have nothing to worry about because we'll win. Easily."

"Yeah, I just don't like you." Fanboy rolled his eyes.

"Are we all in agreement?" spoke Maverick. Another round of glances was exchanged, and everyone nodded. "Good. Go suit up."

At the dismissal, everyone stood from their seats. Phoenix led Sweetheart to a set of lockers, pulling out a couple of flight suits and handing her one. Sweetheart eyed it cautiously. She couldn't help but remember the last time she wore one of these, and the reason why she stopped.

"Hey, look at me." Phoenix cooed, using a finger under her chin to raise her eyes. "What's going on?"

"I've been gone for two years. And my first time back I'm having to fight against Hangman over a stupid bet."

"You doubt yourself?"

"Is it shameful to say a little bit?" she questioned guiltily.

"No. But I know you. And I know you're the best damn WSO I've ever had. You've taken down targets half blind. You've taken down targets without a targeting system. If there's anyone that could do this with me, it'd be you." she soothed. The finger under her chin had migrated to her hair, plucking a stray that Sweetheart somehow missed with the gel.

"But it's been years. What if I mess up?"

"You won't. It's like riding a bike, once you get up in the air, it'll come back to you. And if we lose this bet, so what? It's not the end of the world. Who cares if Hangman makes fun of us for losing?"

"But what if this ruins your chances for being on this mission? What if I screw it up for you?"

"If it does, it does. I don't wanna be on this mission if you won't be with me anyway." the woman claimed. Sweetheart doubted her words, knowing full well that Lieutenant Natasha Trace lived and breathed for the skies. Being grounded was like clipping a bird's wings -cruel. But, even still, the words comforted her. And maybe for a moment she could believe that this woman would risk a job for her.

"So you won't be mad at me if I miss the target?" Sweetheart smiled softly.

"I promise. Now come on. Suit up." she tossed the flight suit at her and then began to pull her own on.

Sweetheart followed her lead and dressed. Then she took her hand and followed her outside where the F-18s were. Hangman and Fanboy were outside already dressed, standing by Hangman's engraved fighter jet. Phoenix's -and Bob's- were beside his. Everyone was gathered around, ready for the fight.

"How about we make this bet worthwhile?" came Hangman's grating voice. It rattled Sweetheart's ears and made her grimmace.

"What'chu got?" prompted Phoenix.

"Double the pushups." spoke Fanboy. Sweetheart had to rack her brain for what that meant. Double the pushups? And then she remembered what Phoenix told her when they first talked. Payback had bet two hundred pushups for whatever reason, and everyone had to do them. Now double them? Fanboy officially took first place for being the dumbest idiot alive.

"No. That's too easy. Let's spice it up a little bit." Phoenix waved it off. Hangman silently urged her to go on. Sweetheart was also curious as to what the woman had up her sleeve. "If we win, we get to dress you up and parade you around like a showgirl."

"What?!" both Sweetheart and Fanboy cried out incredulously.

"No way! I don't want any part of this!" said Fanboy.

"Relax!" yelled Hangman. "We've got nothing to worry about."

"Dude, I'm not risking my reputation like that."

"Don't worry, Fanboy. This punishment only applies to Bagman." said Phoenix. This made Hangman scoff out.

"That's not fair! What's to stop him from sabotaging me? He's gotta take it too."

"You picked him yourself. You saying you can't trust your own WSO?" challenged Rooster with a shit-eating grin.

"Not when he has nothing at stake!"

"You can back out of this bet now if you want, dick-head." pushed the brunette pilot. She crossed her arms over her chest, seemingly confident that they already won without even trying. It was silent for a moment as Hangman pondered it.

"If we lose, we both take the punishment." he reiterated. Fanboy's eyes bugged, unbelieving at what he was hearing. He threw a look at Sweetheart, hoping that she'd speak up and say something to save him

Fanboy was a good friend to Sweetheart. He's never done anything to her to warrant that type of embarrassment. She didn't want to punish him. She tried to tell him as such without actually saying any words. She used her fingers to cross over her heart, letting him know that she held him in good graces and wouldn't punish him. He seemed to understand and nod along.

"Fine. I'm in." he relented.

"Good." Hangman sighed with relief. "But, when we win, we get to dress you up and you have to be our personal showgirls."

This made Sweetheart reel with worry. No way Phoenix would actually agree to that! She wouldn't put Sweetheart in that position! Not after all the harassment Hangman has been directing at her for her entire military career. Not after the actual sexual assault she had to deal with. No, she wouldn't do that.

"Deal." Phoenix spoke.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Sweetheart angrily directed towards the woman. "You did not just agree to that?"

"It'll be okay. Do you trust me?"

"You just sold us out to Hangman!"

"We're not gonna lose. Why am I the only one that believes that?"

"She's right." came Rooster, idling up beside them. "I know you'll win. And maybe this will knock Hangman down a few pegs. It's about time someone shows him up."

"I don't like this." muttered Sweetheart.

"Hangman and Fanboy will run the course first. We'll all be keeping watch and monitoring your flight path. Remember, your ceiling is three hundred feet, and your time limit is three minutes." reminded Maverick.

"Might as well stay out here, because we'll be back before you know it." taunted Hangman. He spit his stupid toothpick to the ground and then ordered Fanboy to the jet. They got in, got all buckled up, and did a quick rundown on the equipment to make sure everything worked. When they gave the okay signal, the runway was cleared in preparation for takeoff.

Maverick ordered everyone else back in the hangar where their jet was pinged on the holographic map. Maverick pulled out a mic, speaking into it to test the two-way communication. When that was all good, Maverick gave full control over to Hangman.

"Once you're in the air and hit one hundred feet, your timer will start." he spoke. "Runway is all clear for takeoff. Comms are all yours."

"Noted. Fanboy, how we looking on the weapons systems?"

"Targeting system up and active." he replied.

"Copy. Let's get this over with. I can't wait for this to all be over with." Sweetheart could hear the smirk painting his lips and it made her roll her eyes. But, secretly, her heart was thumping.

She watched as Hangman navigated the jet towards the end of the runway and then make a smooth takeoff into the air. Immediately, all eyes were watching the monitor. the F-18 reached one hundred feet in a span of seconds, and the timer at the top began counting. The makeshift terrain had spawned around the marker meant to be Hangman and Fanboy.

Hangman and Fanboy kept each other updated every few seconds. Their communication was heard loud and clear in the hangar. Hangman was so confident in himself, claiming they were making great time, that he cracked a few jokes. Sweetheart wanted to laugh at him, but he was in fact making great time. She looked at the timer and saw they've only been in the air for a minute, and they were pretty much halfway through the course.

Sweetheart chewed on her thumb, wanting desperately to cry. She hoped their aircraft would suffer some sort of failure, making them drop from the course and get eliminated. But then she remembered Garcia was in the jet as well, and she didn't want any harm to come to him. She felt bad for thinking like that and reprimanded herself in her head. Even still, the bad thoughts did nothing to quell her fear of losing.

Two minutes. They were in the air for two minutes and Hangman was already claiming that they were approaching the target and for Fanboy to ready the missile strike.

"Targeting system engaged." he spoke, just rambling off the updates. "I've got a lock. Bring us in closer." he instructed his pilot.

"We've got one shot at this. Don't screw it up." he spat back.

"Gee, I was thinking how I could fuck us over. But now that you mention it, I've changed my ways!" he sarcastically replied. If there was room in the aircraft, and time for him to do so, Sweetheart was positive he would've dramatically shrugged his shoulders and slapped his forehead for emphasis.

"Just drop the missile!" Hangman was tired of the jokes.

"Bring us in closer and I will."

"Fucking drop it!"

"The targeting system needs us to be closer if we want to make direct contact!"

"Fine! I'll get closer! But if you miss the window and overshoot, it'll be your own fault!"

"I won't overshoot!"

The marker for the jet rapidly approached the target. Just as they were about to fly overhead of it, Fanboy dropped the missile. A new marker on the monitor appeared as it tracked the missile. It landed just short of the target, but at least it wasn't an overshot. Fanboy was close. He had waited just half a second longer, he might've been dead on.

Once the missile was dropped, Maverick ordered them back to the runway. They had landed just a moment later. Despite missing the target, both men were rather happy with their run. And as Sweetheart and Phoenix passed him while they made their way to their jet, he shouldered Sweetheart and knocked her to the side. She caught herself before she tripped over her feet, but bit her tongue. Now was not the time to focus on him. She needed to focus on the course.

The two of them got in the jet, buckled in, and went over their equipment. Sweetheart was using a loner helmet from Halo. The other WSO had told her to kick Hangman's ass as she handed it off, claiming she's only known the male pilot for a couple of days but already hated his guts.

"Comm test. You copy?" she heard Phoenix's voice in her ear.

"Copy. You hear me?"

"Loud and clear. How's the weapons system functioning?" she asked and Sweetheart took a moment to fiddle with the multitude of buttons surrounding her. It took a second for her to remember what button did what, but she managed and she flicked the system to life.

"Up and functional."

"How are you feeling about this?" the brunette asked, a little less Lieutenant-y and a little more girlfriend-y. Sweetheart took an audible deep breath.

"Nervous."

"Hey, look at me." Phoenix turned to peer behind the seat. "No matter what happens, I still love you, okay? If we lose this bet, and Hangman turns us into his sick fantasy, I won't blame you. But we won't lose, because I'll fly us faster than the speed of light, and you'll hit that target dead on. You and I haven't failed a mission yet, and we're not gonna start now."

"Can I least have a moment to re-familiarize myself with the buttons? It's been two fucking years, Tasha. And I'm a little scared."

"Our timer doesn't start until we hit a hundred feet and Maverick didn't say we had to takeoff immediately. I'm not moving until you tell me to."

"Okay."

Feeling a little better knowing Phoenix was giving her all the time she needed, Sweetheart began pressing buttons she was confident wouldn't just drop the missile on the runway. Okay, what does this button do? And this one? she asked herself as she pressed stuff and watched to see what they did. One button brought up the course. Another button activated the target lock. She knew for a fact that this button was to drop the missile, so she left it alone.

"Alright. Let's get this over with." Sweetheart muttered.

"You ready?" Phoenix asked for confirmation.

"As ready as I can be."

"Alright, ladies. The runway is clear. Comms are all yours." spoke Maverick.

"Copied." said Phoenix.

"Copied." repeated Sweetheart.

"Tell me when the timer starts." was Phoenix's only order. When Sweetheart agreed, Phoenix took off down the runway.

Feeling the rush of gravity as the aircraft actually pulled off the asphalt and skyrocketed into the sun made Sweetheart's stomach drop to her feet. But in a good way. It was a feeling that took her months to recondition her body to forget when she went civilian. She'd go to bed every night, feeling herself sinking against the imaginary force of gravity that ingrained itself into her brain. And now that she was experiencing it again, she wouldn't be able to forget it a second time.

"We've got countdown!" Sweetheart was brought back to the present when the altitude flashed one hundred feet on her screen.

Phoenix straightened out the nose, keeping it level and underneath the hard ceiling. Seeing the course displayed on a holographic monitor was one thing, but actually being thrown against the sides of the aircraft as Phoenix sharply took each turn was another thing. This wasn't anything new; their time with the Black Aces had prepared her for every fast-paced situation one could think of. But it still took her by surprise when they went through the first turn.

"Skies clear. Course on par with time. You've got another turn in four decimal seven seconds." Sweetheart rattled off. It was second nature to just talk, even if the information wasn't all that important. Phoenix liked being talked to. She hated having a quiet wingman.

She took the turn effortlessly, and Sweetheart watched her monitor ahead of their location, making sure the course was still clear of obstruction and that their pathing was matching up with their marker on the course. She made sure Phoenix was aware of the information.

Sweetheart tried not to look at the timer that was flashing in front of her eyes. She looked at it once, and they had already gone past a minute. She panicked for a moment, because it felt like they were only in the air for ten seconds. She told herself not to look at it again, because it would just make her freeze up and ruin everything. And she was already on edge.

"How far until we reach the target?" Phoenix asked. Sweetheart knew she was aware of where the target was in proximity to their location, but she wanted Sweetheart to talk.

"We've just reached the halfway mark on the course."

"I'm gonna drop us lower, give you a better chance at hitting the target."

"Are you crazy?! Three hundred feet is already pushing it! I don't want us to die for this stupid bet!"

"The mission will have us lower anyway. Might as well give it a shot now."

"Tasha, it's not worth it. Just keep your altitude. I can hit the target from this height."

"Well you better get ready because it's coming up any second now."

"Copy that. Maintain speed. Targeting system up and running. Target locked and-" Sweetheart began to say. Her sentence was cut short when her screen flashed a warning that her targeting system was nonfunctional. Sweetheart messed with the buttons, trying to diagnose the issue, but every time, the screen kept saying the auto-lock wasn't working.

"Talk to me, Sweetheart. What's going on?"

"Targeting system is down! I repeat, targeting system is down!"

"What?! You said it was operational!"

"It was! I can't fix it! I'll have to manually target but you gotta slow down and give me time!"

"I can't slow down! If I drop speed we won't make it in time!" claimed Phoenix, forcing the other woman to look back at the flashing timer. She was right; their time was rapidly approaching the three minute mark and they still hadn't reached the actual target yet.

"I can't hit the target unless you slow down!" Sweetheart repeated the problem.

"You can do it! Just drop the missile!"

"I can't! You need to slow down!"

"We won't make it! You can do it! I believe in you!"

Both women began screaming at each other, both of them giving differing opinions. Sweetheart was adamant that she wasn't skilled for such a low-altitude drop at this speed. Her expertise was dropping bombs from high in the sky. There was too much room for error here. Too much math that needed to be precise for it to work out in their favor. But Phoenix kept saying how there wasn't enough time to slow down. She needed to maintain her speed in order to stay under the three minute mark, which was now almost up and caused Sweetheart's hands to get sweaty and her brain to get foggy on the equations.

"Slow down!" Sweetheart said.

"I can't!" Phoenix replied back just as quickly. "DROP IT!!!" she cried.

"ALRIGHT!!!!"

Sweetheart practically slammed her fist into the button, releasing the missile and sending it hurdling towards Earth. Phoenix took the jet higher into the sky, breaching the three hundred feet ceiling to protect them from the blast. Sweetheart turned as far as she could in their cramped aircraft to watch the explosion cloud up the atmosphere with dust and smoke.

"Holy shit!" she found herself yelling out, like it was the first time she was witnessing this despite that being further from the truth.

"Runway clear for landing. Make your way back immediately." Maverick's voice brought her back to the present.

"Over and out. Runway in sight. Attempting a landing." Phoenix replied. She maneuvered the aircraft back to the runway, smoothly resting the landing gear on the asphalt like she was resting a sleeping baby in its crib. Not a hiccup in the landing. Not so much as a scuff on the wheels. But, then again, Sweetheart never doubted her skills.

Once on the ground, and the F-18 turned off, and the canopy open, Phoenix happily jumped out and got to her feet. Sweetheart on the other hand was still strapped in, eyes glazed over as she mentally tried to bring herself back to Earth. Her head was still in the clouds. She was still reminiscing the feeling of being in the sky. It almost felt like a dream, like she was watching herself in third person and the last three minutes wasn't her actually doing it, but rather controlling a video game character.

"Hey, you okay?" Phoenix asked through the comms, approaching the side of the aircraft and holding out a hand as if she could pull the woman out.

"What? Yeah. Yeah I'm good." Sweetheart shook her head to clear it.

"Come on. Let's get your feet back on the ground."

Phoenix helped Sweetheart out, keeping hands on her waist to hold her steady as she swayed. When she was confident her partner wasn't going to collapse, she helped remove the helmet and smoothed down the hair that pulled out of its neat bun.

"You did it." she whispered, a loving smile breaking out on her face. "You fucking did it."

"I did?"

"Yeah! I told you you would!"

"Haha! You two are fucking insane!" Rooster ran up to the two women, enveloping them in his arms and laughing out his happiness as she shook them. "Holy shit you dropped it without a lock! And hit it! I knew you were good but god damn!"

"I actually hit it?!" Sweetheart's eyes went wide with disbelief.

"Hell yeah you did!"

"Come on, guys. Let's go over the results." ordered Maverick with a wave of his hand.

"Help me walk. My legs feel like jelly." said Sweetheart, making both of her friends laugh.

Phoenix had one arm around her waist, Rooster had one arm linked with hers. The both of them guided her back inside the hangar where she was assaulted with more hugs from everyone else. Including Fanboy. Not really knowing what to do, she handed the helmet back to Halo, muttering a thanks. This made Halo laugh a hearty laugh like it was the funniest joke she's ever heard of in her entire life.

"Alright, everyone. Come on. We'll celebrate later. First let's go over the replays and see who won." repeated the Captain.

Everyone took their seats again, acting like kids in class who were excited for the teachers to bring in pizza for a pizza party. Everyone was leaning forward on their elbows, eagerly awaiting Maverick to say something again. But Sweetheart hid her shaking hands in her lap, trying to hide the fact that she was still pumping with adrenaline. But Tasha noticed. She always does. And she took a hand in hers, intertwining their fingers and giving her palm a squeeze. Sweetheart smiled at her gratefully.

"Alright. Let's make it quick and simple." started Maverick, pulling up replays of both their pathings. "You both stayed below the three hundred foot ceiling. You both made it to the target. Hangman and Fanboy: your time to target was two decimal seventeen decimal forty-seven." he said, making both men cheer with delight. "Phoenix and Sweetheart: time to target was two decimal fifty-three decimal twenty-one."

Hearing the recorded times made the air in Sweetheart's lungs disappear. They barely made it. Had Phoenix sneezed they would've been late........ they lost. Hangman was faster than them. But of fucking course he was. He's known for being one of the fastest pilots in the Navy. That skill is what gave him that air-to-air kill. He was just faster.

Sweetheart and Phoenix turned to each other, their faces solemn and disappointed. They knew that this bet was a mistake, and now they were paying the price for it. Sweetheart shuddered at the image of what Hangman could possibly dress them up in.

"Phoenix and Sweetheart won." said Maverick, and everyone's heads snapped up to look at him with bugged eyes.

"What?!" Hangman jumped to his feet, making the desk screech across the flooring. "We were almost a minute faster! What do you mean they fucking won?!"

"Your only two agreed upon stipulations was one: stay below three hundred feet altitude, and two: reach the target in no more than three minutes. You both met both of those parameters, but it was Sweetheart's dead-on missile drop that pushed them ahead of you. Fanboy was off almost a hundred feet. Had this been the mission, you would've alerted the enemy at the airstrike, giving them time to fight back. And then it's a dogfight."

"And she did it without a targeting system!" reminded Rooster with a shit-eating grin.

"I knew she would do it. I never doubted her for a second." Phoenix prided herself, giving Sweetheart a one-armed hug and holding her into her side.

"You're fucking kidding me!"

"Sit down, pretty boy. You'll need your energy for the show you're gonna be putting on for everyone tonight." taunted the brunette pilot. Hangman wanted to sneer at her. He wanted to curse her out, fist fight her right here right now. But everyone was witness to the bet. Everyone heard them agree on the conditions. He couldn't get out of it.

"Screw this!" he yelled, storming out of the hangar and head hung low in shame.

Rooster coughed out a 'loser' behind his back. Whether or not Hangman heard it was irrelevant as everyone else heard it and they all laughed. Maybe seeing Maverick crack a smile and try to hide it was what Sweetheart needed to see. Once Hangman was gone from sight, that was when the celebration started. Everyone once again jumped to their feet to circle around the women.

"About time Hangman got a taste of his own medicine." Bob happily rocked on the balls of his feet.

"He was seriously starting to piss me off." commented Halo again. "Bet he'll keep his ego in check from now on."

"Not yet. First we have to get him all nice and pretty." reminded Phoenix, elbowing Sweetheart with a knowing smirk. She grinned back.

"Oh yeah, don't remind me...." Fanboy grimaced and shuddered. "Please be nice to me. I'm a good friend to you guys." he dramatically begged.

"Relax, Garcia. The punishment still stands for just Jake. You're clear." Sweetheart consoled, a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh thank god!" he huffed out.

"Don't let him hear that. He'll throw another tantrum." chuckled Rooster. "Actually, now that I think about it, get it tattooed on his forehead. That way he's always reminded of it."

"Now that's an idea!" agreed Phoenix.

"Nope. That was not the agreed upon punishment." spoke Maverick, acting like a parent scolding their child.

"You're no fun." said Phoenix.

"I let you guys do this, didn't I?"

Sweetheart and Phoenix shared a look that said he wasn't wrong. They shrugged and rolled their eyes. They'll punish Hangman one way or another. All they have to do is brainstorm how badly they want him to hurt. Phoenix was thinking an old-school Rockette or maybe a Pinup Girl. Sweetheart had the idea of finding the ugliest, trashiest Halloween costume and putting it on him.

"Everyone take a quick break. Let Lieutenant Seresin calm down. We'll pick up training later."

With everyone in agreement, they all split off to go do whatever they wanted for the next few minutes. Sweetheart took the free time to head back out onto the runway and inspect the F-18. She wanted to know why the targeting system failed on her. But, also, she couldn't help but feel drawn to the aircraft. All she ever wanted to do was fly. She remembered seeing the military recruiters come to her high school on career day. She was only fourteen years old at the time, and before that she had never given the military a single thought. But for some reason, she wanted to talk to them, get more information.

Of course the recruiters glorified what they actually did, making it seem like you're not actually risking your life for it. But she wasn't stupid. She knew the Army was tough. The Marines as well. Hell, she couldn't even do a pull up when they told her to get on the bar. It was embarrassing as all hell. And even though they didn't laugh and instead just told her to work on it and she could do anything, she couldn't help but walk away from them in shame. When she walked by the Navy booth, they stopped her to talk to her.

Her ignorance of what the Navy actually did made her try to weasel her way out of it. 'Sorry, I don't like water' she said. They told her they do more than station on boats. They fly aircrafts. They fight in the skies. She thought that was what the Air Force did. The Air Force does fly planes, they said, but unlike the Air Force, when they're in the skies they're fighting. Whereas the Air Force will do a lot of basic cargo transportation.

Transporting cargo didn't seem like fun. Dropping bombs from a plane did. She talked with the Navy recruiters some more. They had already seen her fail at the pullups, but they asked her to do some other physical tests like pushups and stretches. She didn't completely make a fool out of herself, so they handed her some pamphlets that detailed salaries and benefits and outlined the tasks they did, and she carried on with her day.

Something inside her clicked. 'This is what I want to do' she said and she began to work on herself so she could get there. Her high school didn't have a Naval ROTC, just an Army one, so she just took a lot of physical education classes to bulk up and get her strength. She studied hardcore for the ACT and SAT so she could pass with flying colors and get accepted into an NROTC college. Once she got there, she applied for a Navy scholarship and focused her concentration on an aviation career.

Graduating with a job as a pilot was the happiest day of her life. And now here she was: a TOPGUN graduate with over ten years of experience under her belt. She was the best of the best. She was a decorated pilot with highly ambitious recognition. She loved it. Being gone for the last two years was heartbreaking. She missed the skies. But her fear of what happened to her overruled her love for aviation. It wasn't fair. And she was no longer going to let it overrule her life.

"You're thinking hard about something." she heard Phoenix approach her.

"I'm thinking about how I got here. It feels like just yesterday I was training to join the Navy. And then I blinked and now I'm a TOPGUN graduate." she replied.

"Time just races when you've got a good wingman by your side." Phoenix nudged her.

"True, but I've also been thinking about the last two years I was gone. When my situation finally dawned on me and I made the decision to leave the Navy, I was angry with myself. I was angry that I let my fear ruin my life and my career. I worked so hard to get where I was and I just gave it up."

"You didn't just give it up." consoled Phoenix. "You had every reason to leave. You were taken advantage of. Our XO had a rope around you. You did what you had to do."

"I keep asking myself if I could've done something differently." she spoke, finally turning to face the other woman. Phoenix stayed calm, but her eyes showed her pity. Sweetheart hated it.

"What's done is done. There's no changing what happened. You can only go forward, and I'll be here to help you. I miss you, a lot. I miss having you as my wingman, I miss being up in the air with you behind me, I miss being able to hold your hand whenever I want." on queue, she took Sweetheart's hand. "You and I were meant to be a team. We work so well together. I want you to come back. Maybe it's too late for this mission, but it's not too late to re-enlist."

"I don't even know where to begin with that. I begged to be let go. When we graduated TOPGUN, it was expected that I would go back to work and apply for a promotion. I had stipulations attached to me. I had to jump through hoops to drop them and go home." she explained, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. But she wouldn't let them. No more crying. She's done enough crying.

"We'll figure it out. Maybe Maverick can put in a good word for you."

"Maybe Maverick will." speak of the devil. Both women turned to see him approaching them. "I looked into your service record. You've got quite the list of accomplishments."

"Thank you, Sir. But I can't take all the credit; Lieutenant Trace and I have been a team for so long, that our service records are almost identical." she motioned to the woman in question, happy to share the glory.

"Can I ask again why you decided to retire so early?"

"Personal reasons, Sir." she repeated. "I was being coerced by a higher up. He took advantage of me and I couldn't handle it anymore."

"I see....." he trailed off. "You impressed me today. If I could get you a way back in, would you accept it?"

"I would need to go back to training...."

"That can be arranged."

"And, if it's not pushing my luck, I would like to be Phoenix's WSO again."

"I'm sure The Black Aces would accept you back without issue. But that would be up to them. I can only promise a good word."

"Come on, take it!" Phoenix urged her quietly. "We'll figure everything else out later!"

Sweetheart and Phoenix stared at each other for a moment, having a silent conversation. Well, it wasn't much of a conversation -more so Phoenix telling her what to do.

"What would I have to do, Sir?"

"Do you have a uniform?"

"Not with me. All my stuff is back home. I didn't plan on re-enlisting when I came here."

"Go home, get your stuff, and get back here ASAP. We'll get you started on some of the basics and work our way from there."

"Yes, SIr!" she gaped. "Thank you!"

Maverick smiled at her and walked away, leaving the women there with their jaws halfway to the floor. And then they jumped and squealed like school girls.

"I told you!" claimed Phoenix, throwing her arms around sweetheart.

"I can't believe this is actually happening." muttered Sweetheart. "I gotta get home. I gotta get my stuff!"

"Not yet, first we have to punish Hangman." she reminded. "We'll let that be your send off."

"I have to thank you for pushing me to do this. If it wasn't for this stupid bet, I wouldn't be standing here with the opportunity to get back in. And we wouldn't be punishing Hangman."

"Well, truthfully, I did it for me." she admitted. "I can't stand the new WSO I was given in The Black Aces. He annoys the shit outta me. And Bob is nice, but he's not you. His spot should've been for you. It was for you. He was probably called in last minute when you declined."

"I'm sorry I left you hanging. And forced you to adapt to a new wingman."

"It's alright. It's all fixed now. Because Maverick is gonna help you get back out there. And I'm gonna be your advocate however I can." she promised.

Phoenix loosely wrapped her arms around Sweetheart's neck, locking her in and holding her close. Sweetheart instinctively held onto her waist in kind. They looked at each other, slowly pacing themselves as they tested the waters. But they both desperately wanted to jump each other right here right now. The two years apart did nothing to quench their desire for each other. Despite the anger that Phoenix held over those two years, not knowing the truth, she still thought about Sweetheart. It was hard to forget her.

As if they could read each other's mind, they leaned in slowly until their lips finally connected. They fit together like puzzle pieces. They molded against each other like no time had passed since their last kiss. Phoenix stuck her tongue out, parting Sweetheart's lips and allowing her entrance. Their tongues danced around each other in the familiar way they always did. It was sweet. It was soft and slow. Despite the deep longing they had for each other, they were conscious enough to remember their environment and not do something they'll end up regretting.

The kiss felt like it lasted a lifetime. By the time they pulled away, it felt like they had stopped breathing ages ago. They both huffed, trying to get the air back in their lungs.

"God I've missed you." Sweetheart found herself saying. It wasn't meant to be funny, but Phoenix laughed anyway.

"You do realize that I'm never letting you slip through my fingers again, right?"

"I wouldn't put it past you to handcuff me."

"Only if you ask nicely." she winked. This time, Sweetheart laughed out.

"Is that a promise? You already let me down by not bringing rope to the beach."

"I couldn't fit it in my bag." she joked. Maybe.

"Get a bigger bag."

"Or I could just tie you up right now."

"Hmmm. As much as I would love that, you've got more training. And I don't think it's a good idea to miss that after the Captain was so gracious to help us out." she hummed, making Phoenix groan.

"I hate that you're right."

"We'll have time later. You go on. I've got a plane to book." Sweetheart pecked her lips once more, then pushed her back into the hangar. Sweetheart pulled out her cell phone and checked for the earliest flight out of California.

Sweetheart was ready for her send off. After training for the day was complete, Phoenix and Sweetheart ordered everyone to The Hard Deck for Hangman's punishment. Maverick left with a threat that he better honor the bet, and Hangman reluctantly agreed to it.

Phoenix and Sweetheart had grabbed all of the supplies they needed to make him the prettiest girl they ever did see. They did his makeup, put a wig on him, and forced his fat ass into a pair of booty shorts. The entire time, the women were laughing. Hangman was trying to fight against it, but they forced him regardless. With their masterpiece complete, they drug him to The Hard Deck. Phoenix waited outside with him while Sweetheart entered the busy establishment and gathered everyone's attention. She stood on a table and whistled out so everyone could turn their gaze to her. The gaggle of pilots in one corner of the bar were eager to see what was to come next. The other patrons in the bar, and Penny, were just confused.

"Allow me to present tonight's entertainment, courtesy of the United States Navy, Lieutenant Jasmine Seresin!" she announced, and Phoenix yanked on Hangman's arm to bring him in full view of everyone.

Everyone, and she means everyone had cheered him on. They caught onto the joke fairly quickly, people already pulling out dollar bills and handing it to him as he was pulled center 'stage' and forced onto a table. Rooster messed with the jukebox to put on a raunchy song for Hangman to shake his ass to. And shake it he did. Despite the rage evident on his face, he put his all into his impromptu table dance.

People gathered around him, trying to shove dollar bills into his way-too-small jean booty shorts. What couldn't fit, was just left on the table. Sweetheart could see from the corner of her eye Penny resting her face in her hands on the bar top. Did anyone even tell her what was happening? Or was she just as surprised as the patrons when Jake Seresin entered her bar looking like this?

The older woman was too embarrassed to raise her head, but Sweetheart didn't pay her much attention, instead focusing on the lovely dancer she and Phoenix put together. Fanboy came to hand them some beers.

"Thanks for sparing me from this!" he thanked, giving them a one-armed hug.

"Remember this, though. Don't piss us off or else you'll be the next one on the table." threatened Sweetheart.

"I give a Scout's Honor I will never double cross you." he held up his hand in said honor and crossed his heart.

At the end of the song, Hangman was ready to jump down and end his punishment, but the other aviators weren't ready to let him go so soon. Rooster played another song on the jukebox, and the gaggle of pilots circled around him, whooping and hollering for him to dance some more.

This was the send off Sweetheart needed: a good laugh, some beers, and a girlfriend by her side. She didn't expect any of this to happen when she risked it all to face the woman she abandoned two years ago. She was fully prepared to be yelled at, maybe slapped a few times, and told to never show her face ever again. But she got the opposite. Everything worked out in her favor. And maybe it was just dumb luck, or maybe it was the universe trying to tell her something, but she wasn't going to let this go to waste. She was going to take full advantage of it. Like Tasha said, when they're together, they can face the world.

[50calmadeuce]

~Master List~

Piloting Back into Love

Pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You lost your first husband a few years ago to the war and you weren't looking to find love again until your best friend, Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace begs you to come visit her in Fightertown, U.S.A. While there, you fall for the handsome Jake 'Hangman' Seresin thinking he's not going to want all the baggage you carry, but you're mistaken.

Warnings: Some chapters have sex, so if you're not 18+, please don't read them (if you are and don't see them, go check your settings!). A few chapters also have to do with being held captive and one you are hit in the face. So, if any of those are triggers, please don't read.

Ch. 1: The Introduction

Ch. 2: Outside

Ch. 3: Beach Day

Ch. 4: Walk and Talk

Ch. 5: First Date

Ch. 6: The Landing

Ch. 7: Your Story

Ch. 8: Your History

Ch. 9: Airport

Ch. 10: The Rest of the Week

Ch. 11: Tantrum

Ch. 12: The Ranch

Ch. 13: The Family

Ch. 14: The Bedroom

Ch. 15: Morning

Ch. 16: The Ride

Ch. 17: Lunch

Ch. 18: Surprise!

Ch. 19: Planning

Ch. 20: The Wedding

Ch. 21: Wedding Dance

Ch. 22: The Shower

Ch. 23: Your Worth

Ch. 24: Packing

Ch. 25: Back in Fighter Town

Ch. 26: Deployment

Ch. 27: Home

Ch. 28: Sunday and Dinner

Ch. 29: Court

Ch. 30: Two Weeks Later

Ch. 31: The Doctor's Office

Ch. 32: Thanksgiving

Ch. 33: Flowers

Ch. 34: The Cabin

Ch. 35: Scott

Ch. 36: Hostage

Ch. 37: Going Home

Ch. 38: I'm Home

Ch. 39: Escape

Ch. 40: Found

Epilogue

Holiday Bonus Story

Christmas, Jake, and You

Medicinal Love

Summary:

You’ve moved to San Diego to pursue your aquatic veterinarian degree, but to pay for school, you got a job as a San Diego Lifeguard for the summer as you work on your residency in laboratory animal and comparative medicine.

After completing a day of training, you go for a run and meet a sexy pilot playing football on the beach. Will you have time for a relationship with all of your training and schooling? And will your past finally catch up to you and destroy your future?

Warning: This story contains abuse and some sex.

Ch. 1: Coronado Beach

Ch. 2: The Hard Deck

Ch. 3: Too Good For You

Ch. 4: The Dream

Ch. 5: Volunteer

Ch. 6: Rejected

Ch. 7: Competition Training Day

Ch. 8: Walk On the Beach

Ch. 9: Gone

Ch. 10: Private Investigator

Ch. 11: New Roommate

Ch. 12 The Bedroom

Remembering The Mandolin Rain

Summary: You haven't been home in ten years and that was the last time you saw your ex after he just up and left. Going home was going to be filled with memories you just didn't want to remember and you left to get away from them, but your brother calls and tells you that your mother has passed and you're needed. Will going home stir up the memories you don't want to remember and keep you away, or will the memories make you open your eyes and take a new path in life?

Warning: Really there is none. This story is really just about broken hearts that figure out how to be mended.

Ch. 1: Home

Ch. 2: Catching Up On Memories

Ch. 3: Til The Cows Come Home

Ch. 4: Dinner and Breakfast

Ch. 5: Checking Fence

Ch. 6: Mandolin Rain

Ch. 7: Funeral

Ch. 8: The Break Up and Flight

Ch. 9: Jake and The Hard Deck

Ch. 10: Finished Running

Welcome Home

Ch. 1: Going Home Ch. 2: Two Weeks and Counting Down Ch. 3: Getting Past the Hurt Ch. 4: The Riding Ring Ch. 5: Making Up Is Hard to Do Ch. 6: Confession Ch. 7: The Talk Ch. 8: Invitation Ch. 9: Flying to Texas Ch. 10: Texas Memories Ch. 11: Texas Now Ch. 12: The Ride to Forgiveness Ch. 13: The Conference Ch. 14: The Dance Ch. 15: After The Dance Ch. 16: To San Diego Ch. 17: An Evening At The Hard Deck Ch. 18: His Apartment Ch. 19: A Better Offer Ch. 20: It's Different This Time Ch. 21: Deployment Ch. 22: Back Home Ch. 23: The Holidays Ch. 24: Happy Thanksgiving Ch. 25: Home Between the Holidays Ch. 26: Wyoming Ch. 27: The Hotel Restaurant

Submerged Hearts

The year is 2030 and the SeaQuest is still in action with Captain Nathan Bridger at the helm. With the SeaQuest still a research and war submarine, things are changing a bit after their return to Earth. Especially for weapons officer Jim Brody. Jim Brody has never had the best of luck when it came to love, but only because his heart still belonged to his old girlfriend fifteen years ago. He finds out that she's the new marine biologist on the SeaQuest and as soon as he sees her, old feelings and memories resurface. Will the two of them find love on this tour or will their past change it?

Link: Submerged Hearts

[majesticwren]

Goodness, Gracious, Great Balls of Fire (Lt. Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC)

A/N: don't know what this is or how it happened. But it now exists. Miles Teller and his Rooster now live rent-free in my head h24. I present you yet another new WIP and a new full plot that I intend to work on. This works also as a stand-alone because this time I've decided to be kind to myself and lift the pressure of publishing stuff back to back. Be kind to me - as I said it happened and not even I was ready for it👀 P.S.: this new OFC is not physically described in the story. I am using a specific face-claim for the moodboards because that's how I imagine her. P.P.S.: tumblr decided that the quality of the moodboard had to be degraded.

Words: 10k Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Hangman being a bit of an ass, hints of a misogynistic society, this specific scene, Rooster being too hot to handle, smut smut smut, mention of intimacy and commitment problems from OFC, a bit of fluff a bit of angst, mention of U.S. army and navy policies I know nothing about. Divider by: @firefly-graphics . Part 2 | Part 3

Part 1 - Too Much Love Drives A Man Insane

I.

Spending the evening at the Hard Deck after a long, hard day spent working was basically the rule in those parts.

Everyone with a uniform was always welcome at the Hard Deck, and the bar’s main clientele were the people working at the naval base nearby. Meeting there was not only a social call but a tradition.

Nova loved it there. Not only the bar or the base and her job, but its crowd too. Her new job brought the opportunity to settle down and that was what she wanted. After years at the academy training and a few missions in the Navy, she could now call San Diego her home.

California was surprising. Even though she missed the turning of the seasons and the freezing, cold winters she was used to since she was a child, it had been quite easy to get used to the heat and the entirely different way people used to live down there.

She had recently discovered the little pleasure in spending a day at the beach, and one of the things she picked up as a new hobby of hers since she moved down there, was surfing. She even had almost dropped drinking coffee completely.

“Hello darling,” Penny welcomed her with a smile as she approached the counter, “the usual?”

“You got it!”

“A margarita coming right up.” As Penny worked her magic, Nova waited patiently, looking at her work.

She got promoted and offered a stable job at the naval base just over a year ago. But Nova had worked in the Navy for years now, though not as one would imagine.

She wasn’t a soldier nor a sailor. Sure, she had training, but her calling was mechanical engineering. She had a PhD and her name had been even published a couple of times. Having one of the best brains and hands in the country landed her to be the head of the engineering department at the North Island naval base.

She wasn’t decorated and respected because of her courage or strength but because of her genius. Though, despite all her pride in her abilities and the fact that her parents, back home in Chicago, tell everyone daily that she will one day win a Nobel prize, she didn’t like to brag. Her feet were very much on solid ground about the reality of things.

Nova had the talent to understand many kinds of engines, but her expertise was planes. More specifically she worked on the Boing F/A-18E/F Super Hornets used in the Top Gun program.

She looked around, her attention briefly caught by the faces of some other workers and sailors from the base. With some, she exchanged smiles and nods in recognition. Just to land on her little group of co-workers, with them she exchanged a brief but warmer greeting, as she intended to get her drink and reach for them shortly after.

Her job meant not having much time to cultivate a social life so the friends she went out with were the people she worked with. It wasn’t too bad; she liked her team. Her only problem was that they were mostly younger - way younger - than her. One of them was only a college grad. Brilliant mind though, coming straight from MIT to spend the summer as an intern. But barely in her twenties, as opposed to her well passed thirties.

She didn’t care about that on the job. But, as a matter of vanity, she really didn’t like being the oldest of her group during nights out.

Though they were cool kids and didn’t make her feel ancient, or the mommy of the group.

“Awfully busy tonight!”

“It’s great!” Penny slid her drink onto the countertop, exchanging with her a wink. Nova melted in a giggle, nodding. “Is not even five o’clock and you’ve got a full house! I dare to imagine the hell house it will become later on!”

“What can I say, everyone likes us! Plus, I love the adrenaline of a full house.”

“You go girl, get their money, make ‘em happy.” Both she and Penny laughed as the second looked around, nodding with extreme pride to her clients. Then, leaning on the counter, she sent Nova another nod. “So, tell me, how’s the job treating you?”

“Well, really well. None of the pups scratched my babies this week so, I consider it an incredible achievement.”

“Don’t let them hear you.” Penny laughed, shaking her head. “What about the settling part?”

“Great! I finally bought that wicker armchair and sofa set I had my eyes on for a while. Now my living room has a complete look!”

“Oh? I’ve got to see it!”

“And the patio is finally finished too!”

“That is amazing! I’ll consider this an invitation for dinner then.”

“You know you and Amelia are always welcome, you know that.”

The Hard Deck was the first place she started hanging out in and Penny was one of the first people she became friends with since she moved to San Diego.

“And what about the dating side of things? Any luck?”

“Oh-” Nova pouted, sighing, “the sex is always great. Though, as soon as they realise what I do for a living their masculinity shrivels and they always get scared.”

“What? A woman can’t fix engines?”

“God forbid we get oil under our nails-” Nova’s sardonic words were followed by a burst of laughter. Men or women, who couldn’t take who she was or what she did for a living were immediate goners.

Though, even if her words were grave, underlined by a slight annoyance, Nova wasn’t the kind of woman who cared much about finding the right person, settling up, getting married and building a family. She wasn’t afflicted by the idea that her job made her situation unstable for so many years that now it might be too late to settle.

She didn’t care, she had chosen her career a long time ago, everything else that came and passed was, to her, something to grab and live in the moment, without much regrets or future plans.

But besides all of that, her words weren’t entirely sincere. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to admit that she had met someone. And the sex was, in fact, always great. And he wasn’t scared about her career. And he did make her heart flatter with a simple smile.

But he wore a uniform. His duty was given to the U.S. Army and to the Navy. That was honourable, it was a reflection of her ethics, and yet it complicated things.

Trying to distract herself and diffuse the conversation, she slid her card on the counter, towards Penny. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh- Don’t worry. It’s on me, darling.”

“No. Please, let me pay for this one. I insist.”

“Alright,” Penny grabbed her card exchanging it with her drink, “but you’ll have to promise you’ll find someone to offer you a drink later.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Nova winked at the other woman. Sure, it wasn’t official, and she only assumed she had a date that night – but she surely hadn’t spent longer than an hour getting prepped up if she didn’t bet on the fact that her Lieutenant would have found her, later.

Then, attracted by sudden movement in the background, Nova’s attention moved to the group of soldiers in uniform all standing by a pool table. They were all wearing the same kind of gear but the ribbons they had on their uniforms distinguished them for their valour and career, identifying each as Lieutenants. All not only aviators but Top Guns.

“What’s going on there?” She asked getting Penny’s attention. The woman only shrugged, shaking her head. “I don’t know. A reunion I guess?”

As Nova’s attention slid back to the group, Penny patted her hand on the counter, returning her card. “Sorry darling, gotta work the counter. I’ll catch you later. Have some fun!”

“Thank you, Penny.”

By then, her attention was too focused on the group. Her eyes got caught on a familiar face from a past acquaintance she would have much rathered forgotten. Yet, there he was, standing tall and proud. She didn’t even need to be close to him to know he was probably making fun of something, being cocky, with his massive ego on show for everyone to see.

She turned over leaving the counter to reach for the small table that her group was occupying. The guys were involved in a heated conversation about some kind of chemical theory, so, not to interrupt what appeared to be an important conversation, she stepped closer to the only other girl in the group. “Jen,” Nova pushed her handbag on the table in front of her, “please keep an eye on my things for a sec, will you?”

“Are you leaving us already?” She raised her eyes from her phone screen, sending her a sharp look. A quick grin grew on her face as Jen looked all around behind her, looking for something specific.

And Nova knew exactly what it was.

Her personal involvement with someone from the base was mostly kept private. A secret more like. The very few people that knew there was something between her and a certain Lieutenant were her team.

She could have totally got away with it keeping it secret if it hadn’t been for a very specific incident that involved a sneaky meeting in the small workshop room her and her team used as an office, at a late hour, which implied she thought to be the only one on shift. And she was clearly wrong. She got lucky that they had been caught only in the middle of a kiss. Heated, but still innocent enough.

And as brilliant as Jen could be, Nova learned very soon she loved to gossip. Not in a mean way, her secret was still safe. But she did like to talk about it, or wonder about it, differently from Nova herself.

“Yes, but not for the reason you think.” Nova shot her a quick look and then proceeded to down her drink, turning over. 

Her curiosity, and possibly the tequila, pushed her to walk over to the group of aviators.

They were clearly hosts of the base. For whatever other reason, a group of Top Gun pilots would meet in a random bar, just around the corner from a naval base that formed them and gave them the degree of best of the best.

Nova wanted to know what was going on.

And between those faces, one stood out: Jake Seresin.

Even if they weren't in good relations, and they hadn't been for years now, he was the common denominator between her curiosity and the group of new people crowding the Hard Deck.

"Well, well, if it's not Jake Seresin in the flesh. Oh, sorry, shall I call you Hangman?"

His attention shifted to her and as recognition hit him, he hung on the burst of laughter he was sharing with the friend siding him, after, possibly, a bad joke. "It's Lieutenant Seresin for you, babe." He winked, offering one of his sharp smiles.

Once she found it breathtaking.

As much as she couldn't stand looking into his bright green eyes for too long, it always made her feel like he could read through her every thought.

Though, now, those days were long gone.

They went back a few years. She was the appointed engineer to overlook the aircrafts carried by a Navy ship and ill fate wished him to be one of the aviators assigned to the mission the ship was deployed for.

She spent weeks on that ship. With Jake. They had been an item for a second, but they both weren't ready for much commitment, let alone involvement. Though passion had already burned them alive, and the sex was way too good to keep them apart. Even if they were bad for each other.

When Nova decided to come clean, using the end of her job on the ship as an excuse to break things off, Jake's reaction had been nothing but resentment.

Ever since she suspected he had hated her. Though, she struggled to imagine he was so blinded to not see all the reasons why they wouldn't have worked together. Nova knew the motive behind his prickly bitterness was that he didn't like her being the one who ended things first. That clashed with his womaniser, best at everything, all doors opening fame.

"Oh. Didn't know they promoted monkeys." She mocked him, looking intensely at the ribbons he proudly showed on his uniform.

One with experience in the army could easily read through them.

Jake, like any other Lieutenant surrounding him, had plenty of valour recognitions hanging on his shirt.

Those were elite visitors.

"What can I do you for, babe? Oh, wait- already been there. I'll pass this time." He laughed at his own joke, looking up for the support of the guy standing next to him, who, of course, didn't miss laughing.

"What are you doing here?" She asked cutting straight to it, leaning on the pool table.

Jake mirrored her, leaned on his pool stick, looking at her chewing his gum. "Hanging out."

"Are you? You and-" she looked around, her gaze crossed with one of some other aviators. A woman just studied her, particularly amused by her exchange with Hangman, and a young-looking man with glasses and an overly sweet face even awkwardly waved at her, as she looked at him. "These other fine pilots. All just hanging."

"Am I missing out? Do you need something? I swear my car tires are absolutely fine. Don't need a check-up."

Nova rolled her eyes so intensely that she believed the sound of her annoyance could be heard. "Be careful. I'd know how to fuck up your gear in ways you won't ever be able to use it ever again."

"Is that a threat? Hot." He winked at her again.

"So?"

"So what? Are you still expecting me to tell you something?"

"I just want to know if I am supposed to look where I walk, come tomorrow. Don't want to risk stepping over a piece of dirt at work." She offered him a bitter grin, matching aggressively his cockiness.

Some of the aviators around them laughed, and Jake followed faking a smile. Though his glare was frosty enough. "You work at the base?" He looked right through her.

"Yes." Nova rolled her head backwards, offering a sharp grin. "More than that, sweetheart. I am the head of the engineering unit overlooking the Hornets. So, you might want to behave."

She might have not known what they were doing there specifically. But she knew something was up. And she knew that a bunch of decorated Top Gun pilots could be visiting the naval base only to fly the F/A 18E boings.

Which meant they would have been tripping on her toes a lot.

"You?" He wondered, appearing genuinely shocked. Though she knew it was only taking the piss. It was another annoying way to point out between the lines that a woman like her could not have such a job.

"Careful, Hangman. You're really close to piss me off enough to mark your Hornet with a fucked-up name."

"I vote Bagman." The woman of the group intervened, offering a schmuck smirk.

Nova exchanged a look with her accompanied by a quick smile, supporting her idea. "Sounds so much better, thanks for the tip."

"Whenever, darling. Anyone who's on his wrong side is my friend," as she slid closer, she offered her a hand, "Lieutenant Natasha Trace, call sign is Phoenix."

"Nice to meet you," Nova shook her hand, offering a wide smile, "I'm Nova Rivera, Chief of the mechanical engineering department at the naval base. So, you are around to fly the Hornets."

"And you are bright. Although, I wouldn't say that too out loud."

"Why? Afraid your assembly of uniforms won't do the trick letting everyone else here know you guys will visit the base soon?"

She simply smiled and then looked back at Jake, nodding. "She's fire. I hope she'll bite your balls off, Hangman."

"Been there. No, thanks." She quickly replied before Hangman could say anything arrogant.

As some more people behind her laughed and Phoenix gave her a pat on the shoulder, Nova exchanged a challenging look with Hangman, accompanied by a sharp smile.

A moment after the attention of the group seemed to shift to the entrance of the bar.

Nova too directed her attention where everyone was looking, and her eyes and smile softened as soon as she recognised the figure of the man that just entered.

Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, sign name Rooster. He was a Top Gun pilot stationed in San Diego, that's how they met. And he also was the man she secretly liked to spend as much time with as she could.

It had been a few glances at the beginning. And then some innocent flirty jokes on the job. Then they started to stumble upon each other, often it wasn't by mistake.

Then they met an evening at the Hard Deck.

It had been a pretend casual encounter. Only for a drink the first time. And the second. Then it became a drink and dancing. Oh, and the Lieutenant could dance. And then, one night, they casually met as usual and their drink and dancing escalated into a weekend of sex.

From that point, they started to see each other.

They kissed in dark corners and had steamy quickies in hidden closets around the base. And usually, they would meet at the bar and pretend they didn't know each other.

It had been going on for a few weeks now, and it was a sweet deal. No strings attached with all the fun of it and, sometimes, with the bonus of some tenderness and care.

Nova liked him.

He was determined, strong-headed, warm and sweet, and extremely charming. To the point, she couldn't think straight around him.

And she knew he liked her back.

Though, even then and with all the reasons he appeared to be a keeper, she wasn’t totally ready for the commitment of an official relationship.

Especially for one that saw the involvement of two people working for the Navy. That by itself brought with it loads of legal stuff to be signed and it meant that many strangers had to be notified of their private affairs, including layers. She definitely wasn't ready for such a thing. Not for some good sex.

So, she had to keep it together. It was their game, after all. Especially in front of all those people that seemed to know him.

She was used to pretending she didn't know exactly how his thick brown hair felt between her fingers, or that she didn't know exactly the scent of his skin or the taste of his lips, or how his moustache would tickle her sensitive naked skin, or that his closet was packed full with a million Hawaiian shirts just like the one he was wearing right then.

One of the reasons she knew something was happening was because he had gone all top secret on her. But he did suggest to her to be at the Hard Deck that night.

Putting the dots together wasn't hard.

A bunch of different Top Gun aviators all reunited and classified information only could mean a mission.

Nova's smile trembled while she looked at Bradley crossing the room, meeting people that appeared to be his friends.

Besides the fact that she struggled with commitment, that was the main reason why she didn't want any serious involvement with an aviator, sailor or soldier that might be. The idea of their deployment to somewhere unknown, leaving her waiting, uncertain about them coming back, was pure torture.

Only the idea that he could be involved in something of the sort gave her a shiver.

Bradley exchanged only a quick look with her. His dark brown eyes still softly caressed her figure, catching her and freeing her from her doubts, even if only for a second. The quick jerk of his cheek as he clenched his jaw, let her know his approval in her looks.

The spark of hunger that glimmered through his dark eyes as he looked at her uncovered chest and deep neckline, studying her cleavage, was the only reason why she wore that outfit. Her favourite blue jeans hugged perfectly her figure, but the star of the evening was the tight black top she chose. Nova really wanted to turn around, only so he could see her uncovered back.

Though, he didn't lose too much time assessing the situation, if not by looking at Hangman standing next to her. And even if every molecule of her body suggested to her to leap between his arms, she kept herself from greeting him. Her abdomen ached.

Since everyone seemed distracted by his arrival, Nova slid in the background, going back to her group of colleagues. She thought that putting some distance between them two was the only chance she had to clear her head and breathe.

"They must be the reason why tomorrow we've got twenty Hornets to check."

"Yes. I've definitely heard from accounting that a lot of money had been recently paid to get flights permissions." Luke and James were throwing theories. Both were brilliant mechanics working in her team.

"Permissions?" Nova wondered, sliding between the small group. They welcomed her with smiles but didn't look away from the group of aviators. The VIPs of the evening apparently. "Yeah. The girls will fly a lot in the next few weeks." Luke explained fixing his glasses up his nose.

That information both made her smile with pride and compressed her chest. "Good. That is good. We need 'em up in the air instead of being rusting."

The naval base was mostly used for training and the Top Gun program. The idea of having a fully operational base, with all the boings being used and air traffic pushed to full capacity made her belly tremble.

"Though I've heard that the Top Gun program has been suspended," James explained, shrugging, taking a sip of his beer.

"Bullshit." Nova gasped giving him a push.

"No, it's true. All the strips will be used by them."

Nova followed the two men's eyes to the group of aviators. She observed Bradley, more interested in the shape of his shoulders than the actual scene happening.

"Didn't Rooster say anything?" Jen wondered, leaning closer to her, intercepting her attention away from Bradley. Nova sent her a sharp look, frowning. "Why would the Lieutenant say something about this to me?"

The answer was implied in the looks her colleagues gave her. Though, no one dared to call out the incident, or how suspicious it was that she had been spotted at the Hard Deck in Rooster's company more than once.

Nova rolled her eyes. "Right. I know less than you, guys."

That wasn’t a lie. Bradley knew something but clearly wasn’t free to openly talk about it.

"Well, whatever it is, Rooster is clearly involved." Jen concluded, nodding towards the group of Lieutenants greeting each other on the other side of the room.

Bradley was a Top Gun. One of the best. There was no reason to believe otherwise, Jen was right. And Nova should have been proud.

"Maybe you could ask?" Luke dared to suggest shortly after, distracting her from looking at Bradley interacting with the group of aviators. Nova sighed, sending all of them a look. Her glare was more than clear. "I don't think so. The Lieutenant and I are not friends."

"No?" Luke exchanged a sarcastic look with the others and they shortly after started giggling like teenagers dealing with stupid gossip spreading through the halls of high school. Nova raised her eyes to the ceiling, forcing herself to remember they were, in fact, closer to being teenagers than they were being her age.

Nova laid her hand on the table and slowly slid it towards them, leaning forward. She might have been friendly and understanding, but she had her limits. "You kids might want to shut your mouth," she warned them with a look, “I am always your boss. Let’s not forget that.”

The whole point of going out after work was to forget the strict, professional boundaries that tied them together when they were on shift. But now, she felt like there was a need for a reminder.

Even if she knew that the premise of her defensive reaction was essentially her very personal involvement and how private she wanted to keep it, especially if work talk was involved.

Her attention was quickly lifted as soon as she heard the piano keyboard being struck. She didn’t even have to look over to know exactly who was sitting there, as the first three notes of the song were unmistakable. As his voice followed, Nova’s stomach vibrated. Her entire body was dominated by the powerful effect Bradley’s voice had on her.

It wasn’t the first time he did such a thing. He had a soft spot for theatrics. Being a Top Gun aviator wasn’t the only reason why Rooster was so well known and liked around those parts. No. He was genuinely a nice guy.

And what a catch.

The first time she heard him singing was right there, during a similar scene. Except she was on her way out after his first attempt to get closer to her. She got scared. But as soon as she heard his voice, she realised how deeply his charm had worked on her.

The rest was history.

Back then, he put on for her a very similar show, choosing the same piece de resistance he proceeded to sing now, Great Balls of Fire, by Jerry Lee Lewis.

He loved that song. And she loved him singing it.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain,

Too much love drives a man insane,

You broke my will,

But what a thrill,

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

A small crowd gathered around him. Close to the side of the piano, she recognised some of the aviators that were around the pool table before. Phoenix and the Lieutenant with glasses and a sweet face were there, and another two guys, all singing along with Bradley.

Still wearing his square sunglasses, he looked up from the piano keyboard. His gaze caught hers, as a grin bent his lips. She had no doubt he knew exactly what he was doing.

He might also have had the intention of entertaining his friends, but part of it, hidden in plain sight under the curtain of a show in the middle of a massive crowd, was to get her attention.

The yellow lights above him made his tanned skin glow with such a delicious golden colour. God, how much she craved to sit on his lap and trail kisses along the column of his neck.

Not necessarily involving him stopping singing and playing the piano.

“I laughed at love 'coz I thought it was funny,

You came along and you moved me, honey,” as he sang, she exchanged with him a smile. She hid hers as much as she could, biting her lower lip, but only a blind would have missed the hungry, focused look Nova offered him.

“I've changed my mind,

This love is fine,

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

As the crowd exploded in the bar all around them, following Bradley’s queue, Nova slammed her hand on the table. “Right, fuck it.” And then she was on the move.

A moment before leaving the table, she turned towards the small group, pointing a finger towards them. “I don’t want to hear a word about this tomorrow, ok?”

Despite her threatening behaviour shown earlier as soon as she felt the need to protect her secret, and the fact that she was so proud about that entire thing, she still offered the guys a grin. They all knew where that was going. From that point on she wouldn't have been too afraid to show her interest in Bradly publicly. Hiding in the crowd, of course.

"Yes, ma'am!" It was the chorus she received from her group. James even put his hand on his chest, as if he was swearing upon a bible in court. Though all of them also had a smirk printed on their faces, as if they knew something along those lines would have happened all along.

"Don't forget to ask!" Jen chirped behind her back. As if she needed a reminder. Nova heard her group giggle behind her back but simply left them to it, not much caring about it anymore.

Bradley didn't take his eyes off her as she moved closer to him. "Kiss me, baby," people howled around him as he sang but as he pretended to shiver, he offered her one of his smirks, "Ooh, it feels good,

Hold me, baby,

Well, I'm off to love you like a lover should,

You're fine, you're so kind,"

Nova slid her arms on the top of the piano, leaning against it, purposely bending sensually as she looked right into his eyes through the sunglasses.

"Got to tell this world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine!" He sang loud and clear and people around him followed.

A shiver crossed her back while the rhythm of the music melted her muscles, bringing her to start moving with it. She wasn't dancing for other reasons but to be watched by him. It was as if she was posed under a spell.

A warm smile melted her features, encouraging him to continue to entertain them. He nodded both at her and to the rhythm of the song.

"I chew my nails and then I twiddle my thumbs,

I'm real nervous, but it sure is fun,

Come on, baby,

You drive me crazy,

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!"

The entire bar clashed with the chorus. Nova followed too, singing, following Bradley's queue.

As he then proceeded to play the piano, dancing to his own rhythm, people around him followed his energy. And Nova too, danced, warmed by the energy of the moment.

She twirled on purpose, only because she wanted Bradley to see her exposed back as she danced.

"Well, kiss me, baby," he sang leaning forward closer to her, locking his eyes with hers. "Ooh, it feels good,

Hold me, baby,

Well, I'm off to love you like a lover should,

You're fine, so kind,

Got to tell this world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine"

His sunglasses had slid down his nose by then. The energy was so great everything around the bar seemed to be attracted to his gravity.

"I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs,

Real nervous, but it sure is fun,

Come on, baby,

You're driving me crazy,

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!"

The bar thundered so loudly that the floor vibrated under her feet.

Then everyone started to cheer Bradley in a stadium chant-like chorus, calling his sign name.

"Rooster! Rooster! Rooster!" Everyone shouted, only prompting Bradley to welcome their ovation with some dance moves. The more he moved to the rhythm of the chorus, the louder the crowd shouted.

As soon as the strong energy gravitating around Bradley started to dissipate, Nova pushed herself closer, distracting him from embracing the little group of fellow aviators standing by.

"So," as soon as she spoke his attention was immediately on her. She leaned on the side of the piano lazing under his brown gaze, "what's your name, pretty boy?"

"Didn't hear 'em? They call me Rooster around these parts."

It was their game. Flirting like they didn't know each other. Every time as if it was the first.

It thrilled her in a way that could not be described. The small talk of two strangers that presumably were innocently hitting on each other, but the glares of two who already knew in detail each other body and pleasure, had an energy to it that drove her insane.

"Rooster? Are you a pilot then?"

"Top Gun, darling."

"And do you have a name to go with that?"

"Sure," he pushed his hand out, "the name is Bradley."

She met his hand in a soft shake, willingly slowly sliding her fingers on his wide, warm palm just to prolong the contact with him. "Nice to meet you, Bradley," she let his name slide on her lips on purpose, "I'm Nova."

"Nova," he repaid her in the same way, slightly curling his lips, "can I buy you a drink, Nova?"

"You may if you promise to tell me the story behind the name Rooster."

He only replied with a quick wink.

She knew the story already, but she really wanted to sell her role, especially since they stood right next to the group of aviators he knew and that would have, possibly, worked with him very soon.

Bradley turned towards them, squeezing himself between his shoulders. “Sorry guys, I’ll catch up with you later.”

They all cheered, encouraging him to move along. One of the two guys standing next to him even gave him a soft push. Nova only exchanged with them a quick wave and a smile with Phoenix, before leading Bradley to the bar counter.

Before taking a seat on one of the stools, Nova hung on the counter for a second, quickly grabbing the attention of one of the bartenders with a nod. “Two Budweiser, please.”

Bradley nodded in approval to her words and then proceeded to get his wallet out of his back pocket, hinting to the bartender he wanted to pay.

As soon as they had been served and left alone, Bradley turned towards her. He grabbed the edge of her stool and pulled it vigorously towards him, only so he could have her as close to him as possible. Nova reacted to his move with a gasp but welcomed the closeness with nothing but a warm surprise and a tempting smile.

With a victorious smile, he pushed his face closer to hers, just so he could freely speak to her ear. “You look stunning tonight.” He slid a hand on her lower back, practically surrounding her with his limbs, purposely brushing his lips against her ear.

That closeness made her purr.

Sometimes that game of theirs made her hands tremble, as pretending not to be intimate with him seemed to be the hardest thing she had ever done. And sometimes it was nothing but hot to find privacy in the middle of such a crowded room.

“You are not bad either.”

“Thanks.” He offered her one of his wide smiles, leaning his head forward and moving his hand in front of his face miming tipping his imaginary hat.

“Nice performance. Didn’t know it was a habit of yours to charm people that way.”

“What can I say, it’s my hidden talent. Not my fault it strikes many hearts.”

“You devil.” Nova gave him a good look, slowly sliding her eyes across his face and down his neck and chest. His body was as warm as the Sun, it felt almost impossible not pushing a hand forward and touch him. He sat so close to her that the scent of his cologne and the sunscreen he probably had applied earlier filled her nose, clouding her judgement. The only thing she could think about was that she wanted to bask in his energy all the while worshipping him.

Bradley leaned closer to her ear again, not afraid to push his face in her hair. She suspected that was the point of such closeness. “Saw you talking to Hangman earlier.”

A grin immediately curved her lips. “Yes?”

“Whatever you had said to him seemed to have rattled his nerves pretty bad.” By the way Bradley leaned so close to her he could as well be kissing her neck, it wouldn’t have made a difference. It took her a moment longer to understand his words since his hot breath on her sensitive skin sent her into a brief frenzy.

In response, she distanced herself from him and sent a look over the counter, to the direction of the pool table.

Jake was looking at them.

Her smirk only grew, she looked back at Bradley, biting her lip. “Yes, we had to catch up.”

“You know him?” The surprise in Bradley’s words just made her more inclined in playing with him some more, only to tease him.

“Oh, yes, we go way back.”

“Yeah?”

“I think the correct word for it is,” Nova patted her index on her chin, pretending to think about it, “fling. Yeah, that’s the one. I might have had some fun with him.”

Bradley’s gaze could cut through iron right then. His features were shadowed by slight annoyance as he traced her look from earlier, glaring at Jake.

His reaction gave her goosebumps. Nova hid a smile biting her lower lip, as she picked at a corner of his shirt, softly pulling it so as to bring his attention back to her. “Are you jealous, Lieutenant?”

He offered her one of his warm smiles, nodding shamelessly. “You bet I am. He is a prick.”

“Yes, he is. But at the time I was young and easily swoon.”

Bradley’s smile only grew. “And what about now?”

“I’m just as easily swoon, Lieutenant. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Oh, I’ve noticed.” He smirked as he looked down at her with hungry eyes.

No doubt his thoughts were dirty. And she would have given anything to know exactly what he was thinking about.

Nova raised her bottle of beer, downing two big gulps, a moment before hopping off her stool. “Right then, Rooster,” she took a step back, offering him a tempting look, not that she needed much to get his attention, “are you going to dance with me tonight or what?”

II.

By the time they kicked the door open, Nova was already grasping at Bradley's figure, with her arms solidly clinging around his shoulders and her legs wrapped around his hips. He supported her with his arms. Both were blinded by their lust, drowning in a breath-taking, passionate kiss.

They spent the rest of the evening at the bar dancing together, sometimes alone, sometimes sided by the rest of the group of Top Gun aviators. Mostly the tunes of the evening were from the 80s and 90s, that was also one of the reasons why the Hard Deck was so well known – it had good music.

Bradley was pure fire on the dancefloor, and she didn’t mind getting burned. That’s what she craved. Ready to match his energy and follow his steps, she hadn’t left his side for longer than maybe a minute, that evening. She had been eager to be both squeezed between his arms, grinding herself against his body, gasping for air as the heat between them grew, as much as she was all-in being silly and simply having fun with him, mirroring his goofy dance moves.

There had also been a moment for proper presentations, as they all had a drink together and Rooster introduced her to the rest of the bunch.

After all of that, their night couldn't have ended any other way. Especially since it had been a consistent thought of hers, since the first moment he had wrapped his arms around her figure, grinding his hips against hers. She knew that night he would have been hers.

She was even willing to break her rule to avoid something as intimate as visiting each other's house. It was rare they shared a bed. That's why they often met around the base or fucked in Bradley's car like teenagers.

But that night it was an exception she was willing to make.

Bradley kicked the door behind him and blindly drove a hand to the lock, clearly not intentioned in breaking their kiss.

His mouth tasted so delicious she couldn't think straight. As her arousal took over, transforming her into a being perched by her thirst for that man. The smell of his skin and the solid consistency of his body drove her insane.

Nova slid a hand through his curly hair enjoying the soft moan he released in response.

He didn't lose any time. He threw the keys somewhere only to get rid of them and then he placed her on the first surface he found. It could have been a table, the sofa or a bed, even the floor, she wouldn't have cared as soon as Bradley was between her legs.

She didn't allow him to find any distance. Digging her nails deep into the nape of his neck and shoulders she kept him close, biting his lower lip only to catch his lips again, famished. And Bradley matched her energy perfectly. He didn't break the kiss but took advantage of his free hands to take off his shirt, throwing it on the floor with no care for it whatsoever.

He showed way more care sliding his sunglasses off the neckline of his tank top, leaving them on the surface of the table next to Nova.

Then, he wrapped his open palms around her hips and took a long moment to press his hands around her curves, moving them down on her legs, following the outer edges of her thighs and calves.

Not even looking, Bradley found her ankles and got rid of her heels.

They too just fell on the floor with a loud thud. And Nova couldn't care less.

She tightened the embrace of her departed thighs around his hips, running her hands across his wide shoulders and down his arms. God, she loved feeling his muscles tensing under her palms.

Bradley wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him, only to grind his hips against her centre, letting her feel his erection trapped in his jeans.

They both released a pleasureful sigh.

He broke their kiss pushing his face into the socket of her neck, assaulting her skin.

"Bradley-" she breathed heavily to his ear as she slid a hand between his hair again, pulling them slightly.

"Tell me, baby," he mumbled against her skin, sliding his lips across her collarbone, "tell me what you want."

A victorious smile grew on her lips as she stretched between his arms, purring like a lazy cat. "I want you on your knees."

"For you? I'd lick the floor."

"No, I want you to pleasure me with that sweet mouth of yours. Now," a shiver crossed her as he took a little nibble of the softer skin above her breast, "please-"

"Please, what, darling?"

"Please, Lieutenant."

He liked to be called by his title. At least in those situations, when she was lost in the heat of her arousal and pleasure. And, God, if she liked giving him what he wanted.

Not that he needed much more than that to be convinced to oblige her request.

She had been cursed; she was sure. He was the perfect man. He had the looks, the brains, the talents, and the moves, and on top of all of that, he was also a skilled lover.

He was good at giving her pleasure, period. He would have done anything for her with no question asked, if it involved having her unravel between his arms, crying his name out loud.

Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw was as good with a woman as he was flying. And him being so good was one of the reasons why she could never have enough of him. And why she struggled so much to keep her hands to herself when he was near.

As if he had received an official order, Bradley was ready to execute.

He undid her jeans, immediately sliding his hands underneath, spreading his fingers wide on her lower abdomen. Nova welcomed his move, reclining her head backwards, releasing a soft moan.

Pushing her hips up she impatiently pushed herself against him. He didn't need words to know that was his queue to remove her jeans. He took a step back and pulled her pants off. Though, as if the distance from her physically hurt him, Bradley immediately wrapped his hands around her ankles and, sliding back between her legs, he filled his palms with her skin all the way up to her hips.

His dark eyes glimmered as he looked down at her, clearly enjoying the view.

"You should have told me you were wearing this-" He hinted at her bodysuit, sliding his hand from her cleavage to her abdomen.

A shiver shook her, making it very difficult to keep her cool.

"Why?" She knew exactly the answer to that question. She just wanted to hear him say it.

"Because," Bradley kneeled in front of her and threw her legs over his shoulders. In an unbearably slow caress, he passed his hands across her inner thighs, hinting to her to spread her legs even more for him. Nova tried her best to suffocate a moan, biting her lip. He looked up at her with a proud, devilish smirk printed on his lips, "I would have done this much sooner."

Nova's entire being vibrated. There was nothing quite like seeing that man devoting himself to her, on his knees, with his face between her legs. The power, the hotness of it alone was enough to flood her stomach and make her purr. And he hadn’t even started.

He wrapped an arm under her, to give her support, and with the other he hooked his fingers on the thin material of the bodysuit covering her core, pulling it to the side.

She felt his hot breath caress her dripping wet core in a delicious torture, as he took a moment to look at her.

“Oh, baby,” he gasped, sucking the air into his lungs, “you are so beautiful. So wet-” The look he sent her was pure devotion.

She was ready to beg him to continue, unable to hold it together any longer, but Bradley didn’t need her words to know exactly what she wanted.

He pushed his face into her and proceeded to feast upon her heated, aching loins.

She almost lost every faculty as soon as his tongue caressed her folds, and she was completely gone by the time he started sucking her flesh. A moan vibrated through his chest, sending her to another planet.

The air was soon filled with the obscene noises of Bradley's mouth wrapped around her sex, accompanied by her moans. She wasn’t even trying to keep quiet by then. What was the point when all she wanted to do was to scream for him?

Pleasure started to build up inside her stomach, sending electric shivers all across her limbs. Nova barely managed to balance herself up with an arm, but she didn’t care, she craved to push her fingers between his hair just to hold him.

In response, he looked straight up at her. His brown eyes were both darker and glimmering. Making eye contact in such a moment was ravaging, so powerful her skin crawled with goosebumps, as pleasure only built.

Though, as soon as she felt she was starting to hover too close to her edge, Nova gently pulled Bradley’s hair, signalling to him to stop.

He softly kissed her folds one last time before reclining his head backwards, rolling his eyes back into hers. She widened her lips, looking at him catching his breath, with his reddened cheeks and mouth and chin covered in her juices.

God, he was breathtaking.

“On your feet, Lieutenant.”

He was ready to execute. In a second, he was back standing in front of her. Nova rolled her fingers on his chest, grabbing on the cottony material of his white tank top, pulling it up, encouraging him to get rid of it.

She then pushed her face closer to his, sliding her hands across her chest and abdomen. “I need you,” she breathed close to his mouth, the musky taste of her own sex danced on her tongue, “take me now, please.”

Bradley was on her in a second. He sealed her request with a heated kiss, not even bothering to clean his face off. Not that she cared. She wished to mark him with everything she had to give, and she liked him to do the same.

She welcomed his tongue into her mouth with a pleased sigh, pulling him in an even tighter hug, wrapping her legs around his waist and running her hands to his jeans, tackling at his belt.

Bradley pressed his hands on her shoulders and lowered the thin straps of her bodysuit on her arms, only so he could pull the thin material down, uncovering her chest. He pushed his hands on her breasts, giving them a soft squeeze. They both moaned.

He lets go of her lips only to lean down and suck one of her nipples into his mouth.

Nova sucked the air between her gritted teeth, as both pleasure and frustration take over her body. She pushed a hand under his untied jeans and boxers, impatiently trying to get rid of his clothes, letting out an irritated grunt when it took a second too long for her taste.

Bradley chuckled against her skin, his moustache tickling her. “You are so impatient,” he pulled away, reaching for her wrists, “maybe I should teach you a thing or two-”

“Not tonight.” She barked, raising her chin, not afraid to face him. Though in all response she only received a schmuck grin.

He quickly raised his hands to her face. With one he grabbed her hair, pulling her head backwards, wrapping the other around her neck in a soft hold. He towered upon her, keeping her steady. “Is it that bad, uh?”

“It’s painful.”

“Tell me what you want,” she gasped as he rolled his hips, rubbing himself against her sensitive centre, “say it, darling.”

“I want your cock inside of me. I need you to fuck me right now, right on this damn table, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

He whimpered and then he finally nodded, giving her exactly what she had asked for.

Before he got rid of his jeans, he picked a condom out of his wallet. Then, everything else that wasn’t satisfying her was forgotten.

III.

Nova slammed her hips furiously against his, sliding up and down his cock like a famished beast. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails dug into his skin, as Bradley let her fuck him to the pace she preferred. He held her solidly between his arms, face pushed against her neck socket, suffocating his moans against her skin. All the while she had no shame to cry out loud following the pleasure he gifted her with that night.

There had been no solace for either of them. The more pleasure she reached, the hungrier she became, and Bradley seemed to be more than willing to give her exactly what she needed. His stamina hadn’t given in yet, even after they already went at it three times.

They were both a mess of sweat, scratches and bitemarks, fluids, tired muscles and overstimulated nerves. But the pleasure connecting them was too great.

As soon as she started squirming, calling for his name between heavy breaths, Bradley turned his attention directly to her, raising his head and looking straight into her eyes.

He was so beautiful, lost in his own pleasure and hers.

His dark gaze ate her whole. "Yes?" He wondered, looking for her confirmation.

By then he knew how to decipher her body language and the pitch of her moans. He knew when she found herself on the edge and he was never particularly inclined in risking her losing her release.

Everything that she could give him was a quick nod, and he was ready to catch her. Wrapping an arm around her hips, he gave her the support she needed to keep going, while he raised the other hand to her face, tracing a caress on her jawline, only to push his thumb between her lips.

She gave him access, sucking his digit and maintaining eye contact. With frowned eyebrows, blushing cheeks and departed, puffed lips, hers was a silent request, begging him for release.

Bradley pulled a cocky smile, a moment before he began to move his hips too, matching her rhythm.

"Yes, baby. Cum for me." His voice was low and raspy, bent by pleasure. Music to her ear, a vibration that slid right into her lower belly, giving her the final kick to unravel between his arms.

Nova squeezed him even tighter and as she opened her mouth to cry out in pleasure, Bradley hooked his hand on her neck and pulled her in a kiss, suffocating her shouts.

The orgasm that exploded inside of her shook her with such power to leave her drained of every drop of strength. She collapsed between Bradley's arms as he helped her ride the pinnacle of her pleasure.

It felt too good to have him inside of her, as her tight core clenched around his erection. He filled her completely, sedating her needs perfectly.

He wasn't far from reaching the same edge. As soon as she let go he too embraced his pleasure.

Bradley pushed his face on her chest, suffocating a louder moan against her skin.

She slowed greatly the movements of her hips, helping him go through his orgasm as much as he did with her.

Feeling his cock pulsating inside of her as he came was enough to breathe new life into her being. It was reinvigorating and ravaging. Both blessing and damming.

Nova loosened her hold on him, now softly embracing him. She slid a hand through his hair, gently cradling him as she pressed a soft kiss on his forehead.

She was now exhausted. He had fucked every thought out of her mind and every drop of will out of her senses.

The only thing she wanted to do now was curl up in his bed, possibly as close to him as possible, and go to sleep.

It was a great breach of her strict no-intimacy protocol. But she didn't care.

Not now.

Not when it didn't make any fucking sense, since she wanted to drown in those arms of his, disappearing into his chest.

In that second of silence, as they both only hugged, enjoying each other's skin, still lost in the echoes of their pleasure, Nova damned herself for every decision she had ever taken and that she would take as soon as her fear of commitment with a man in uniform will start to shout alarms in her mind again. For now, she only wanted to pretend she was free to be his girl.

Bradley gently rocketed her, catching his breath. His lips brushed against her neck as he rested his head on her shoulder, equally satisfied and exhausted.

She did not know why she liked to fool herself so much pretending that being that close to him wasn’t exactly what she wanted.

A soft chuckle vibrated through the air, as he gave her a soft squeeze, before raising his eyes to her. “Woman,” he tenderly pecked her lips, “you fucked my brain out.”

Nova smiled proudly. “That was the point, Lieutenant.”

He deposited her on the mattress and hopped off the bed. “Wait there, don’t move.”

She had no intention of doing that. Not for the moment. So, she simply stretched between the messy pillows and bedsheets, purring looking up and down his naked body, enjoying the view and the look he gave her more than she would have ever admitted.

He went into the bathroom and didn’t bother to close the door, while he freshened up. That was how comfortable Bradley felt around her.

That was a problem. And also, something she chose to ignore.

Nova buried her face into his pillows, inhaling a deep breath of his scent. She spread her arms on the mattress, enjoying how big that bed was. Or more simply, enjoying fantasizing about her freedom to consider it her own.

Her body was already sore. Tomorrow her legs, hips and arms would have ached like hell. But God if that was a price she was more than willing to pay when the sex was as good as Bradley offered.

He returned holding a towel in one hand and a glass of water in the other, offering both to her. Nova exchanged with him a grateful smile, as the last thing she wanted to do was get up.

She drank the water in big gulps and then she cleaned herself off with the damp towel, enjoying the cool sensation it left on her skin. Once she was done, she just fell back on the mattress with a sigh, siding Bradley.

She rolled on her side, studying the edges of his figure illuminated by the bright moonlight coming through the window. He was beautiful, with his golden skin and toned body. The warmth he gave off seeped through her skin, working like a spell, suggesting to her body to nest against him, because that was a safe place to be.

Resting his head on his bent arm, Bradley kept his eyes closed, but his lips were curled in a soft smile. “I can feel your eyes on me.”

“You are so beautiful.” She whispered, lost in her thoughts, daring to slide her fingers across his flat stomach in a hint of a caress. Bradley turned towards her, his brown eyes caressing her figure. She pulled closer to him, sliding on his chest without finding any resistance from him. Her fingers danced on his face in the softest stroke as she followed his forehead and then the edge of his nose, across his lips, only to finish on his chin and across his jaw.

“Careful there,” he chuckled softly, “a look like that makes a man fall in love.”

She immediately froze.

Every drop of softness and warmth left her body.

She knew he was joking. As much as she knew he wasn’t wrong.

And the point wasn’t even that. The point was that she had a problem. Big time. Huge. Life changing. Mind-blowing. Yet simply, she was the one that was falling.

She pulled away from him and rolled over, ready to get up. And get away. Running was always a great strategy, even when the idea of distancing herself from him felt as painful as her stomach being torn from her body.

Bradley immediately followed her. He tried to keep her softly grabbing her arm. “Hey, hey,” as she hesitated, he placed a hand on her hip and, pressing his chest against her back, he pushed his face close to her ear, “I was only joking, darling.”

She was unable to function when he whispered so close to her. And, she didn’t know what hurt her more, if his words or her own damn stubbornness.

She stared straight in front of her, right into the wall. “Why?”

“Why, what?” He pressed a soft kiss on her shoulder, giving her a shiver she couldn’t shake off. “Why would you joke about that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t joking. The point is. Don’t go.”

How could she have explained to him that she did want it? She wanted him to fall for her. She wanted it all. And at the same time, that was the reason she needed to be as far away from him as possible. Probably, forever. It was becoming dangerous.

Especially since there was a mission involved.

A shot of clarity struck her as she just now remembered that yes the sex was great and yes the Lieutenant sang and danced and flirted straight into her heart, but he was also going to be deployed. Soon.

“I have to go.”

“Why?” His voice was so soft, and yet that sweetness hooked right into her soul, ripping her apart from the inside.

She turned towards him. Her gaze was hard, her expression so serious it didn’t match the emotions they both seemed to be feeling.

“Why did you ask me out tonight?” she was so stubborn she had a point to prove now, even if it would have hurt her more than what she was ready to take, “only wanted me to witness the heartfelt reunion with your pals?”

Bradley looked at her, more confused than anything else. “No. Not only for that. You know it.”

“But that was the answer you gave me when I asked you about what’s happening at the base. You said I’d understand if I’d been at the Hard Deck.”

“Yes.”

“So? Was that it?”

He sighed. “You know I can’t give you a clearer answer.”

“Ok, then tell me this, who are they?”

“Old friends and colleagues of mine. They are Top Gun pilots too. With some, I did missions, with others I studied and did my training. I like some more than others.”

“You’ve all been called then?”

Bradley hissed and looked away.

She didn’t need him to confirm verbally her intuition. She was right. She had been right from the beginning. He was going to get sent away, somewhere, sometime soon.

A shiver crossed her spine, breaking her breath and a violent tremble that shook her chest. She thought to be good enough at hiding her feelings, yet it was more than enough for Bradley to see through her. He sent her a sharp gaze, quietly studying her reaction, making her feel naked and not in a way she liked.

“How long?” She simply asked.

It was a question that could mean anything and yet, with their conversation, it didn’t need further explanation. The answer he would give her could have changed everything.

Only the idea that they could have left only a few hours together did make her skin crawl and her stomach revolt.

She liked to keep herself separated from any type of involvement – but she was lying every time she thought she didn’t care about him greatly.

Bradley looked into her eyes for what it seemed to be an eternity. The longer that moment became, the more her fear grew. He broke the sudden tension rising between them with a sigh. “A few weeks.”

“How long is a few, Bradley?”

“I don’t know all the details. I don’t know how long.”

“Do you see where I am getting, here?”

“Yes. I see.” His breath was shaken. Both were. Sitting so close, in the dark, distressed by dark and stormy emotions. Or at least, that was how Nova felt. Victim of a spiral she didn’t see coming.

Though, Bradley was both the cause of it and the ray of sunshine she needed to guide her through.

He wrapped his hands around her face and pulled her closer. “And I am asking you to stay, just for tonight.”

As he pressed his thumbs into her cheeks, looking so loving and desperate, Nova melted. She gave in. Willingly losing the battle. Did he want her close? Did he want to damn them both? Fine.

She kissed him.

There was nothing else she managed to think could be better to do.

Sliding her arms around his shoulders she found him embracing her, pulling her to nest in his lap. His lips were welcoming, his hands already buried between her hair as they both desperately grasped at that closeness.

“I can’t.” She whispered, against his lips.

“But do you want to?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Yes. It does.”

“What do you want me to say? That I want to stay? That I want you? Only so my heart will be broken in a few weeks?”

“I want you to consider another perspective.”

“What other perspective? In what universe your deployment is avoidable?”

His silence was so loud.

“Let me go, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

“Is that an order, ma’am?”

“Yes.”

He did as she asked, lowering his arms and gaze. “You are free to go. You will always be free to come and go as you please.” The sadness breaking his words lashed through her chest.

God, if only she could tell him how things really were. How she wanted to fall on her knees right there, in front of him, and cry out how trapped she felt in a feeling she didn’t want but that she found and now…

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, grumbling a curse against the entire universe.

“What would you suggest, Rooster?”

“I suggest that we seize the moment. I suggest eating and dancing and laughing together and having as much sex as we can. I suggest that we spend as much time together for the next few weeks as we can. Knowing each other, savouring each other-”

She pushed a hand across his mouth, shutting his words. And yet even then, his eyes were burning with all the emotions his sentences carried, singing to her heart.

She wanted all of that. She really did. Yet she was torn between the idea that all of that would have made their departing a thousand times harder and the fact that at least it was a delay with the promise to gain some sweet bonus perspectives.

“Why do you have to make me?”

“Make you what?”

“Fall for you.”

[happypopcornprincess]

Main Masterlist

Requests are open! Keep 'em coming 😏❤

SMUT * || Angst ~ || Fluff ♡

One Shots // Headcanons // Requests

The Wedding Bet Date ♡~

(Enemies to Lovers || Hangman x Phoenix)

When Natasha "Phoenix" Trace made a stupid bet, she did not expect Jake "Hangman" Sersin to be thrown at her face out of nowhere. Now they are stuck together, forced to confront a past they are trying to forget.

Series

Story Sneak Peeks

[lamusique1]

Queen ft. Maverick - We Will Rock You Mix DJ Francuz

[natsaffection]

OOOOH I HAVE A REQUEST could you do nat x reader where reader is nat’s stress relief (Natasha is a mob leader or ceo or something powerful) and our whole job is to be ready for nat to take, punish, degrade and use whenever she pleases. Top/mean nat super smutty 🫣

Mine to use.

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Using body for own pleasure, begging, strap on, rough sex, oral (n receiving) spanking, power use

Word Count: 2,1k

A/N: ups..💆🏻‍♀️

Natasha Romanoff, known in the underworld as the Black Widow, sat at the head of a long mahogany table in her luxurious office. The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Her presence commanded respect and fear, a combination that had allowed her to rise to the top of the criminal hierarchy.

Dressed in a tailored black suit, Natasha exuded power and control. Her red hair was neatly tied back, emphasizing her sharp features and piercing green eyes that seemed to see right through any deception. She leaned back in her chair, listening intently to the reports from her lieutenants, each of whom vied for her approval.

“Our shipment from Eastern Europe has been delayed,” one of her men reported, his voice tinged with anxiety. “The authorities have tightened their inspections. We’re looking at a two-week delay, at least.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, but she remained silent, her fingers drumming on the table. She had little patience for delays and incompetence. “And the situation with the East Side gangs?” she asked, her voice cold and measured.

“We’ve managed to secure a temporary truce,” another lieutenant responded. “But it’s fragile. They’re demanding a larger cut of the profits.” Natasha’s lips curled into a predatory smile. “Demanding? They’re in no position to demand anything from me.”

As the meeting continued, Natasha’s mind drifted slightly. Beneath the table, hidden from the view of her subordinates, you knelt quietly. You had been summoned earlier, your presence required for a different kind of service. Natasha’s hand found its way to your hair, tangling in the strands as a silent command.

You knew what was expected of you. You leaned forward, your movements careful and deliberate. Your tongue traced a path along Natasha’s inner thigh, your touch light and teasing. Natasha closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Her men exchanged glances, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, fully aware of Natasha’s reputation and her ways with girls.

“How do you plan to handle the shipment delay?” Natasha asked, her voice steady despite the pleasure coursing through her.

“We’re exploring alternative routes,” the lieutenant replied nervously, trying to maintain his composure. “It will cost more, but we can avoid the increased inspections.”

Natasha nodded thoughtfully, her attention divided. “Do it. I want that shipment here within the week.” Your tongue worked skillfully, your movements guided by the rhythm of Natasha’s hand. Sometimes you really wondered how you ended up in this situation and could still remember exactly the first encounter with her:

“Over my knee.” she commanded, her voice sharp and unyielding. You hesitated for a moment, confusion and fear clouding your mind. “Miss Romanoff, I don’t understand—”

“Did I ask for an explanation?” Natasha snapped, her eyes flashing with anger. “Over my knee. Now.”

Swallowing hard, you complied, draping yourself over Natasha’s lap. The position was humiliating, but you knew better than to protest further. Natasha’s hand rested on your lower back, holding you in place.

“Do you know why you’re being punished?” Natasha asked, her voice icy. “No, Miss Romanof..” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“One of my so-called colleagues made a mistake,” Natasha began, her hand coming down sharply on your backside. You gasped, gripping Natasha’s knee to steady yourself. “And I don’t tolerate mistakes.”

The spanking continued, each strike harder than the last, each one a release of Natasha’s pent-up frustration and anger. Your body jerked with each blow, your cheeks burning both from the pain and the humiliation.

“M-Miss Romanoff, please!” you cried out finally. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” Natasha’s hand paused mid-air. “What did you just say?” she asked, her voice dangerously low.

“I—I’m sorry, but I didn’t do anything w-wrong..” you repeated, your voice breaking. Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Talking back, are we?” she hissed. “You will learn not to speak unless spoken to.”

With renewed fury, Natasha continued the spanking, her strikes even harder than before. Your body jerked with each blow, your cries filling the room. You clung more to Natasha’s knee, desperate to keep yourself from crying out too loudly.

The office door opened suddenly, and one of Natasha’s colleagues stepped inside. He froze, eyes wide as he took in the scene.

“I’m sorry. I—I didn’t realize you were busy..” he stammered. Natasha didn’t pause in her actions, her hand continuing to come down on your backside with methodical precision. “What do you need?” she asked coolly, her eyes never leaving your quivering form.

“I, uh, have the reports you requested.” he replied, trying to maintain his composure. “Leave them on the desk,” Natasha instructed, her voice steady. “And close the door on your way out.”

The man did as he was told, his face pale as he quickly exited the room, closing the door behind him. Your grip on Natasha’s knees tightened, your knuckles white as you fought to keep silent.

“You see,” Natasha continued, her voice a low growl. “I expect absolute obedience. No talking back, no excuses.”

Natasha’s breath hitched slightly, but she maintained her composure, her eyes never leaving those of her subordinates.

“And the truce?” Natasha continued, her voice betraying nothing of the sensations she was experiencing. “Make it clear that any breach will be met with swift and severe consequences.”

One of the lieutenants dared to glance under the table, curiosity getting the better of him. Natasha caught the movement and her eyes snapped to his. “You.” she barked, pointing a finger at him. “Out. Now.”

The man paled, scrambling to his feet. “Y-Yes, Miss Romanoff.” he stammered, hurrying from the room. Natasha’s eyes followed him until the door closed behind him, then she returned her attention to the others. “Anyone else being distracted?”

Her men shook their heads, clearly intimidated. Natasha’s reputation for ruthless efficiency was well-earned, and none of them wished to test her patience.

As the meeting wrapped up, Natasha gave one final command. “Keep me informed of any changes. Dismissed.”

Her men filed out of the room, each offering a respectful nod as they left. Once the door closed behind them, Natasha’s facade of icy control slipped slightly. She looked down at you, her eyes dark with desire. “Good girl,” she murmured, her voice a low purr. “Finish.”

Your movements became more fervent, driven by Natasha’s praise. The mob boss leaned back in her chair, allowing herself to fully enjoy the sensations. Her control over you was absolute, extending from the boardroom to the bedroom, and everywhere in between.

As Natasha reached the peak of her pleasure, her grip on your hair tightened momentarily before releasing. She leaned forward, breathing heavily, her eyes softening as she looked at the woman beneath her.

“Look at me,” Natasha commanded gently. You obeyed, lifting your gaze to meet Natasha’s. “Come here.” Natasha instructed, her voice soft yet authoritative.

You rose to your feet, your legs unsteady. Natasha stood as well, pulling you into her lap for a brief, tender moment.

“You did well,” Natasha said softly, her lips brushing against your ear. “But remember, your debt is far from paid.”

“Yes, Miss Romanoff.” you replied, your voice a mixture of submission and affection. Natasha’s smile was predatory yet tender as she held you close. “Now, leave my office.” She commanded.

As you turned to go, Natasha’s hand came down in a sharp smack on your ass, a final reminder of who held the power. You gasped, a flush spreading across your cheeks as you left the room.

And it had been like this for several months. You owed Natasha a lot of money but could never pay it on time. Until you begged her to forgive your debts and you would do anything to make it happen. Natasha didn't have to think about it for a second and since then you have been her personal toy. She was feeling bad? You were there. Her coffee was too cold? She took it out on you.

One day had been a disaster from start to finish. Natasha’s meetings with the criminal elite had gone awry, with deals falling through and alliances crumbling. Her temper was on a knife-edge as she stormed back into her office, slamming the door behind her. She needed an outlet, and she needed it now.

She grabbed her phone and sent a single, commanding message: “My Office. Now.”

You arrived quickly, your heart racing as you stepped inside. The tension in the air was palpable, and you knew tonight would be different. “Miss Romanoff?”

Natasha’s eyes were dark with anger as she stalked towards you. “Strip.” she ordered, her voice a dangerous growl.

Your hands shook as you hurried to obey, quickly discarding your clothes. Natasha wasted no time, grabbing you roughly by the arm and dragging you to her table.

“Bend over.” Natasha commanded, her voice sharp and unyielding. You complied, your body trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. Natasha’s presence behind you was overwhelming, her anger radiating off her in waves.

“Do you have any idea how infuriating it is to deal with incompetent idiots all day?” Natasha spat, her hands gripping your hips tightly. “To have every single plan fall apart because of their stupidity?”

As she let the meeting enter her mind again, Natasha pulled something out of her drawer and you heard her strapping something on.

“Answer me.” Natasha barked, her hand coming down in a sharp slap on your backside. “No, Miss Romanoff..” You gasped, the pain mixing with an unexpected rush of arousal.

“That’s right,” Natasha hissed, positioning herself behind you. “You can’t possibly understand the level of frustration I have to deal with.”

With that, Natasha entered you roughly with her fake cock, her movements harsh and punishing. You cried out, unable to suppress the sound as Natasha set a brutal pace.

“That’s it,” Natasha growled, her grip tightening. “Scream for me.” Your cries filled the room, your body responding despite the roughness. The more you screamed, the more aroused Natasha seemed to become.

“Do you know how much I love hearing you like this?” Natasha murmured, her voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “It kinda makes me feel alive.”

“Please..” You whimpered, your body responding despite the roughness. “It’s too—oh my god!”

“Don’t hold back..” Natasha commanded, her voice a low growl. “I want to hear every sound you make.” You cried out, your voice filled with both pain and pleasure. “Oh, please!”

Natasha’s pace increased, her movements becoming even more forceful as she fed off your reactions. “You’re mine.” Natasha snarled, her breath hot against your ear. “And you will take everything I give you.”

“Y-Yes, Miss Roma..noff..” you sobbed, your body shaking with the effort to hold on.

Natasha’s grip tightened further as she reached around and pulled your arms behind your back, holding them firmly. The new position allowed Natasha to thrust even deeper, each powerful movement driving you further into the bed. “Stay still,” Natasha ordered, her voice harsh. “I don’t want you moving an inch.”

“I can’t,” you gasped, your body at Natasha’s mercy. “It’s too deep!”

“Good.” Natasha growled, her voice filled with dark pleasure. “P-Please..”you begged, your voice breaking. “I can’t hold it!”

“Then come.” Natasha commanded, and your body obeyed, the release overwhelming and intense. But Natasha wasn’t done. “Again.” she ordered, her voice leaving no room for refusal. “And this time, scream for me.”

“F-Fuck!!” you cried out, your body trembling with exhaustion and pleasure. “Please, it’s too much!” Natasha brought you to the edge and over again, her control unwavering. Each climax was a release of Natasha’s pent-up frustration, her anger dissolving with each wave of pleasure.

When it was over, Natasha leaned back, her breathing heavy. She looked down at you, who lay panting on the table, your body marked by the roughness of their encounter.

“Get dressed.“ Natasha ordered, her voice softer but no less commanding. “And remember, you are mine to use as I see fit.”

“Y-Yes, Miss Romanoff, thank you..” you replied, your voice steady despite the exhaustion. You dressed quickly, your body aching but your heart full. You knew you would be summoned again, and you would be ready, as always, to pay your debt in whatever way Natasha demanded.

[perfectprettypisces]

after reading so many stories where their actual names are used like Jake Seresin, Natasha Trace, Javy Machado, etc., it’s so crazy to me that not once did they say any of the pilot’s real names in the actual movie except for Bradley who has both Cyclone and Maverick say his first name (his last name is said a lot more) and Maverick (for obvious reasons)

not even like a Lieutenant Trace or a Lieutenant Seresin, they were always just simply referred to as “Lieutenant”

the only time we really see their names are on the beginning screen where Cyclone is showing Mav the 12 pilots and their last names on the tags of their uniforms in the bar scene

everyone is simply referred to as their callsign and even in cast interviews, they introduce themselves using their call signs and never the actual names

come to think of it? i genuinely feel like they weren’t in the movie THAT much because i saw a post that calculated Glen’s screen time and it was like less than five minutes total?

all this to say, fan fiction is SO powerful because this was such a minuscule detail of the movie that we could’ve forgotten about but everyone kind of just took it and ran with and now I can’t see it any other way

[hederasgarden]

Today I’m thinking about a somehow equally nerdy navy medic with a crush on sweet Bob and Phoenix and hangman obsessed with trying to get these 2 to realise they like each other that’s all…

Hangman would be so amused, I think, and view it as his personal reality TV show. Maybe Rooster catches on because Hangman is staring awfully hard at Bob one day.

“Working on a crush there, buddy?" Rooster asks, tilting his head in Bob's direction. "It's okay, you can tell me. This is a safe space."

“Huh?" Jake asks before he shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "No. But someone else is," he says, drawing the other man's attention to the way you're leaning against the wall, openly staring at their WSO. You're watching him so intently that it takes you a few tries to find your straw with your tongue. It's almost endearing how inept you are.

Then the two of them end up working together to help you get the attention of a clueless Bob and oblivious Phoenix. After a few mishaps, Hangman decides a direct approach is necessary because as oblivious as his two teammates are, you’re even worse.

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader x Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

Word count: 700

Rating: Gen. Humor and flirting.

Hangman first comes to you after you've finished the annual mandatory CPR training course for the pilots.

“Look,” he starts, leaning in close enough for you to get a whiff of his overpowering aftershave. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. “I get it, you’re a little inept at this whole thing but I’m here to help.”

“Okay, buddy...I think I know way more about anatomy than you do,” you tell him, packing away the CPR dummies. His friend with the mustache coughs and Hangman arches one golden eyebrow looking bemused. It takes you a few seconds to realize what you said. Before you have the chance to feel embarrassed or over explain yourself, he speaks.

"I get it," he assures you. "But I was referring to your little crush on Bob and Phoenix."

“That's not… what… you're crazy," you sputter, shaking your head. "You're way off base," you go on, internally freaking out because you'd been SO careful to play it cool and keep it on the DL. You were a consummate professional every time you interacted with Bob and Phoenix. Calm, cool, and collected. Smooth as butter.

"Uh-huh. There's no need to be shy, sweetheart. We're gonna help you get your man. And girl," he adds.

You're not sure if it's his insufferable smirk or the ridiculousness of the situation but your embarrassment fizzles out and you're left feeling more annoyed than anything else. Who did this guy think he was?

"First, Lieutenant Trace isn't a girl. She is a woman and an accomplished pilot to boot. Also, don't call me sweetheart. It's weird and creepy.” You poke him in the chest to drive home your point. "Also, you can tell Tom Selleck over there I don't need his help either."

“Woah, hey," the other man says, hands raised. "I'm just an innocent bystander here."

"What's your plan?" Hangman questions. "Stare at them some more?"

You scowl but before you can reply another voice interjects. “This guy bothering you?”

Your freeze at the familiar voice, your surprised expression mirroring Hangman’s. Phoenix’s dark brown eyes meet yours when you turn and oh god, she looks so effortlessly beautiful. You should reply with something witty and funny but it’s all you can do to stand there, slack jawed until you see Bob right behind her.

He offers you a bright smile and Phoenix touches your shoulder as she leans in to mock whisper, “Hangman’s not always the best at knowing when he’s not wanted. Like now for example.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Hangman asks.

“As entertaining as it was to watch you obsess over this whole thing, I decided the direct approach was easier for everyone involved,” the mustached man says.

“Okay, Tom. You’re good people,” you finally say.

“It’s Rooster actually and I know. Such a good person,” he says with a wink, nudging Hangman.

“Bye, Bagman,” Bob says, staring at the other man until he finally leaves with Rooster.

“Now,” Phoenix begins, fingertips dancing down your arm to capture your hand in hers. “What’s this about you having a crush on us?”

[topgun-imagines]

Forget Me Not (iv)

Requested: no

Summary: With the simple stress-induced headache out of the way, you finally get the opportunity to reconnect with Bradley.

Word count: 2.0k

Warnings: hospitals, amnesia, mentions of death, headaches, memory loss, inaccurate medical terms, angst.

Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x wife!reader

Previous part | Next part

“Jake,” No matter how many times Natasha called his name, the head-strong pilot refused to stop. Still, they followed him through the sterile-smelling halls of the hospital until he stopped abruptly. “Hangman,” She tried again, more firm this time. Wordlessly, he turned to her and snapped something along the lines of ‘What, Trace?’ “Look, you know that we’ll be behind you no matter what,” Jake stared at her blankly and willed her to just get to the point. Your doctor was on the other side of the door right in front of him. He could be talking to him right now if Phoenix would just hurry up. “But you have to tell us what’s going on.”

The pilot should feel elated. He should be excited at the fact that his wife is feeling better. However, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of dread that was growing stronger and stronger by the second. Jake may not have been a doctor, but he did know that a headache after brain trauma was not a good sign.

He tried to muster up a grateful smile, he really did, but all he could offer her was a barely-there tired grin. “I know, Nix,” Sucking in a sharp breath, he knew that he had to tell his friends why he was in such a rush. “We were just talking and then she suddenly seemed like she was in pain. She said she was going to sleep.” Instantly, Bradley and Natasha understood what the problem was.

They stood behind him as he knocked on the door and waited for your doctor to answer. When the door was pulled open, the man was just putting his stethoscope around his neck. He greeted Jake with a smile. “What can I help you with, Lieutenant?”

“Sorry to bother you, sir,” Jake started, attempting to remain professional even though he was worried sick. Once the older man assured him that it wasn’t a problem, he continued. “But I was hoping that you could come check on my wife. She appeared to have a headache earlier.” The man nodded and followed Jake back to your room. When he stepped inside quietly with Jake close on his heels, Bradley and Natasha took that as a sign to return to their seats.

Inside the room, you were peacefully sleeping on the scratchy hospital sheets, breathing softly and eyelids fluttering every few seconds. Jake watched you worriedly, working his lip between his teeth. The doctor was careful as he looked in your eyes, still trying not to wake you up. He checked a few more monitors before offering Jake a reassuring smile. “Everything seems fine. Given all the stress she has endured in the past couple days, a headache isn’t out of the norm.” With those words, Jake could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Jake thanked your doctor as he stepped out of the room. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. After everything that had happened over the past few days, all he wanted was for things to be okay. At least for a little while.

When Bradley saw your doctor step out of the room, he patted Phoenix’s hand gently before stepping inside. The first thing he noticed was Jake leaning against the wall, his head tipped back and eyes shut tightly. “You okay, man?” The usually put-together pilot startled at the sound of his friend's voice.

He cleared his throat and nodded, his eyes only meeting Bradley’s briefly before looking back to you. Bradshaw stepped forward to comfort his friend, but instantly noticed the dishevelled state of his clothes and hair. He had been wearing the same outfit for almost a week and Bradley was convinced that he hadn’t showered for at least two. “Jake,” Bradley started cautiously, not wanting to piss the man off. He only hummed, not taking his eyes off your peacefully sleeping form. “When was the last time you showered?” That caused his eyes to snap to Bradley.

“I’m not leaving her. Not again.” The words were out of his mouth in mere seconds. Jake squeezed your hand softly, completely disregarding Bradley’s statement as he looked at your sleeping face.

Bradley shook his head. “That’s not what I'm saying,” Trying again, Bradley chose his words even more carefully this time. “I’m just saying that she’s sleeping now. You have time to go and take a shower and take care of yourself,” He knew that there was one statement he could use that was a surefire way to get Jake to agree. “She wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

Silently, Jake stood from that creaky, uncomfortable chair and turned to his wingman. Before he responded, he sucked in a long breath and released it. “You’re right,” He nodded, silently thanking Rooster for calling him out. Just as he was about to step out the door, he turned back. “Would you stay with her? I don’t want her waking up alone.” Bradley could hear the care laced with worry in his friend's voice.

He nodded reassuringly, taking a seat in the creaky plastic chair and pulling his phone out. As Jake closed the door softly, Bradley began swiping through another level of Candy Crush.

“Morning, Sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned as you blinked your eyes open. You smiled at the sound of his voice and twisted your head to face him. You noticed that you could no longer feel your heart beating in your temples. That sent a surge of relief through you. Before you could respond to the mustached man, he spoke again. “Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

You nodded with a soft smile, giving Bradley permission to ask whatever he wished. “I know that you probably don’t like people asking you this, but can you remember anything else?” His words were quiet as he tried not to scare you. While he was curious to know whether you could remember anything else, he didn’t want you to feel pressured.

You nodded before you began speaking. “It’s okay,” Pausing for a few seconds, you tried your hardest to remember anything that you could. “I remember.” Suddenly, memories of a breakfast spent in bed with someone flooded through your mind. You could see the colour of the sheets and feel the cool sea breeze from the open window. There was a man next to you, he had his arm wound around your waist, his thumb drawing delicate patterns into the bare skin of your waist. You were looking at him with pure love. The only problem was that you couldn’t see his face. You had no idea who he was.

You gasped, tears welling in your eyes at the knowledge that you had someone to come home to. Someone that you loved more than you could know. And you couldn’t even remember him. You sniffled quietly and Bradley watched you through concerned eyes. “I remember a breakfast in bed,” You started and the pilot immediately softened. “I can remember the colour of the sheets and the smell of the food. But there’s someone beside me that I can’t see,” Eyes slipped shut, fat, hot tears rolling down your flushed cheeks in waves. Desperately, your mind chased the man that you couldn’t remember, regardless of how hard you tried. “I can’t remember him.” It sounded almost like a whimper as you wiped the tears from your eyes.

Suddenly, you remembered the man sitting beside you. “I’m sorry.” You murmured, embarrassment serging through you. The lump in your throat was almost overwhelming as you cleared your throat.

Once you wiped your eyes once more, you turned to Bradley. You couldn’t pretend to miss the sympathetic look in his eyes. You hated seeing that look. It felt as if everyone around you had been looking at you like that ever since you woke up. For once, you wished that the people around you could just treat you like they did before the incident. Not that you could remember how that was. You knew that it was because they cared about you, and you really did appreciate it, but you couldn’t help but feel as if they were looking down on you in some way.

Bradley watched as you tried your hardest not to let any more tears fall. It reminded him of the scared girl that he had met all those years ago. When Bradley first met you, you had just joined the Navy. You were living in a small apartment on the south side of Baltimore, away from any of your family and friends. It had only been a few weeks since you moved into your tiny apartment when he met you.

The pilot had met you in a bar, spending the entire night trying to befriend you. It was obvious to most that you were the more reserved type, and even though you tried to ignore him, eventually, Bradley was able to crack through your tough exterior. Ever since that moment, he was your best friend. The two of you were inseparable. It almost made you wonder whether there was something else between the two of you that you couldn’t remember.

“Scoot over.” Bradley tilted his chin forward. You shuffled over slowly, tears still welling in your eyes as you thought back on your memory. Who was the man in the dream? Could it have been Bradley? One of his arms settled around your shoulder after you nodded in approval. Pulling you into his side, one of his thick thighs rested against yours and his foot nudged yours.

Your head dropped down to rest on his shoulder. Bradley’s thumb brushed slowly over the soft skin on your arm. “You don’t have to remember everything all right now,” He murmured, no louder than a whisper. “The most important thing is that you're okay,” You could feel his chest rumbling under your ear, his voice being even deeper than it normally was. “You gave us all a really good scare. All we want is for you to be okay. Okay?” He grinned when you giggled from the tickle of his mustache against your cheek.

All that could be heard in the small hospital rooms was the sound of your soft laughs as Bradley told you tales of the mischief that you and he got into over the past few years. While you enjoyed hearing Jake tell you stories about how the two of you met, there was just something about listening to Rooster talk than had you snuggling further into him.

“One of my favourite memories of us was in that bar one night in Tulsa. With the piano.” That was all you had to say and Bradley knew what you were talking about. One night, after the two of you had been reunited in Oklahoma, you headed out to the local bar. Bradley decided to teach you how to play Great Balls of Fire on the piano. That night had ended with you and Bradley stumbling drunkenly back to his housing, lying out on the back porch while you stared up at the stars. It was by far one of your favourite moments.

That had Bradley chuckling quietly as he reminisced on that wonderful night. As your head dropped further into his chest, you started to wonder whether or not it could have been Bradley in your memory. Your hand reached up and you fiddled with his dog tags, seeking comfort in the presence of the mustached aviator. After the hell that you had endured over the past few days, you were ecstatic that you could finally feel at peace.

Bradley continued whispering softly to you, not sparing any detail as he recounted moment after moment from your past. Your eyes fluttered shut, soothed by the low timbre of Bradley's voice. It was hard to remember a time when you had ever felt this relaxed. Holding you closely, Bradley was happy that he was able to draw your mind away from the overwhelming stress of the past few days. Little did you know that Jake was standing just outside the door, listening intently to every word whispered between you and his wingman.

a/n: thank you all so much for reading!! Stay tuned for future parts of this series and let me know if you would like to be tagged <3

Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @t0kyoreveng3rs @there-goes-thefighter @supercatgirl006 @blueoorchid @dempy @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @randomfangirl97 @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @angelbabyange @oliviah-25 @cassiemitchell @classyunknownlover @shelbycillian @khaylin27 @bruher @sunsetsimpsblog @lovelywiseprincess @fandom-life-12 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @emmza63 @cornishkat @iceman-kazansky @himbos-on-ice @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @wkndwlff @entertainmentgal8 @djs8891 @blackwidownat2814 @dakotakazansky @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @memoriesat30 @sarahjoestewy-blog @ducks118 @marvelouslyme96 @linkpk88 @missathlete31 @xoxabs88xox @abbymwall @eternallyvenus @keileighr @rey26 @lt-spork

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[writing-until-i-drop]

Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 8

Summary:

Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?

Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.

A/N: A blissful morning is interrupted by a knock at the door and chaos ensues.

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter Pt. 1

Natasha looked like the cat who ate the canary, grinning at me over a cup of black coffee. I was eating M&Ms for breakfast, trying to ignore the fact that I had more than one hickey on my neck after Jake decided three in the morning was a good time for a make out session.

“Soooooo,” She took a tip. “Bagman didn’t sleep on the couch last night.” Natasha pushed a tumbler of iced coffee towards me, “And you’re not wearing pants.” I groaned, my head thumping against the counter.

“Did you know that you get really warm when you’re cuddling with someone?” Me trying to take my fuzzy pajama pants off had been what woke Jake up in the middle of the night. “Like, how does one person emit so much extra heat.” 

“Turn the fan on next time. So, did you fuck him?” Why, why, why had out of all of the girls I met freshman year of college had I chosen Natasha as my best friend? 

“Tasha!” I banged my head against the counter again, “Pre-coffee is not the time for this conversation.” 

“Which is why I made you coffee, so drink and spill, Daisy Louise.” I groaned, sipping on the coffee. My head was throbbing and I blamed Natasha and the blonde still asleep in my bed in equal parts. 

“We didn’t sleep together, I mean we did, but not like that.” Natasha booed, “Shut up, we just decided to do the whole something more thing and there was no tequila involved. My apologies for not jumping his bones.”

“You’re forgiven. I could leave, go somewhere for a few hours, and you could-” 

“I swear to God, Tasha. I just want to unscramble my brain before he wakes up and you’re not helping. Like, are we dating? Are we seeing how things are going? I-” There was a knock at the door, “Tell me you didn’t invite Javy over to gloat.” The knocking got louder and more insistent, 

“I didn’t invite anyone over.” Anxiety filled my stomach and by the look on Natasha’s face, I knew she was feeling the same way. Standing in the hallway were two men in matching black suits.

“Daisy Prentiss?” I nodded, suddenly very aware that I didn’t have pants on and my shirt did not extend long enough to cover my underwear by any means. “Agents Mulner and Gaines, FBI Field Office. May we come in?” I froze in horror and then  Natasha “Phoenix” Trace, decorated Naval Lieutenant, and pilot of a billion dollar plane, slammed the door shut in the FBI’s face. 

“Why did you do that?” I yelled, snapping out of my trance.

“I panicked!” She yelled back, eyes wide. “Go put on pants and wake up Bagman, I’ll offer them coffee. Go, shoo,” Natasha pushed me towards the stairs and I didn’t argue, running up the stairs. What the hell was the FBI doing here? A cold dread washed over me. The last time I had spoken with the FBI, they had come to tell me the second worst news of my life. There was no reason to suspect that this time they were the bearers of good news. 

“What’s going on?” Jake asked blearily, sitting up in bed. Sometime in the night he had abandoned his shirt but I didn’t have the time to soak in the view, tripping over my feet to put on my pajama pants.

“The FBI’s here and I’m half naked.” Now Jake was tripping over himself to get dressed,

“What’s the FBI doing here?” This was not how I wanted to do this, to explain to Jake what had happened to my parents but the past was knocking at the door and it was time to answer it. God I hoped Natasha had let the agents in and they weren’t still standing in the hallway.

“They’re here to talk to me about why I fucking hate September and Tasha may have slammed the door in their faces.” 

“Daisy, you’re not making any sense.” I laughed, none of this made sense. Not since the day it had happened had any of this made sense. “Wait for me, baby,” I didn’t wait, rushing back down the stairs, the need to throw up becoming more urgent with every step. The two agents were standing in the kitchen with mugs of coffee while Natasha leaned against the counter, looking like she was going to be sick. 

“Sorry about that, we, uh, panicked.” Agent Mulner nodded,

“Don’t worry, it happens more than you think. Who is this?”

“Lieutenant Seresin, sir.” Jake shook the man’s hand, exuding a level of professionalism that did not match at all with his wrinkled shirt and boxers. If the whole situation wasn’t one straight from my nightmares, it would have been hilarious. Jake was standing behind me like a guard, his hand protectively on my waist. 

“Ms. Prentiss, is there somewhere we can talk privately?” Agent Gaines asked, stroking his goatee. I shook my head at the same time Natasha answered,

“Not happening.” 

“She knows and uh, pretty sure if you tried to get rid of him he’d rack up a resisting arrest charge.” The agents chuckled and then their faces settled into matching grim expressions. This was definitely not going to be good news. “I should sit, yeah?” 

“That would be for the best,” Agent Gaines confirmed, motioning to the couch. Jake and Natasha sat on either side of me, taking one of my hands each. 

“Ms. Prentiss, as you probably know, Rudolph Lance’s execution date has been set for the 19th.” 

“Good,” Natasha hissed, squeezing my hand. Agent Mulner sighed, running a hand through his spiky hair. I could practically hear the gears in Jake’s head turning, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

“His lawyer made contact with our agency not too long ago saying that Mr. Lance is now willing to confess to an additional twenty-one murders.” Even sitting, I felt the floor fall from beneath me, swaying into Natasha’s side. My vision went blurry and it dawned on me that I must have been crying. “Including that of your parents.” 

“What’s the catch?” Natasha asked, her grip on my hand bone-breaking. Jake’s was equally as firm. “There’s no way that monster is just going to give up this information.” 

“It’s more common than you might think, killers on death row wanting to confess to additional murders,” Agent Mulner explained. “It extends their life because there has to be additional investigations and trials.” No, no, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way this was happening. “Mr. Lance has agreed to do this on one condition. He will confess to you and only to you, face to face.” Jake and Natasha both swore loudly on either side of me but all I could manage was a weak,

“Why me?” 

“Our behavioral analysts believe it’s because you’re somehow special to him. Your parents were the only ones with children and you saw him, you testified against him, and they think that this is one more way that he wants to torture you.” The weight of it all slammed into me and I cried harder. 

“Of course, we can’t force you to meet with him,” Agent Gaines’ voice was steady, like this was an everyday conversation for him and not the end of my world. “But this would bring closure to many other families and you’re the only one who can do it.” 

“Get the hell out of our apartment,” Natasha shouted, bringing me into her chest like a momma bear, pulling Jake along with us by our connected hands. He was draped over my back like a shield, protecting me from the agents and their words. 

“You have time to decide, Ms. Prentiss. I’ll leave my card on the counter.” Being in a snuggle-sandwich between Natasha and Jake had not been on my bingo card for the day but then again, neither had standing in front of the FBI in my undies. 

“I need a cigarette,” I whispered into Natasha’s neck, “Menthols.” I had picked the habit up in high school to help drop weight but kicked it in college when I couldn’t afford it anymore. On occasion, when things were bad, all I wanted was a smoke.

“You still smoking Newports?” 

“Yeah, I’ve got a pack of them in my underwear drawer. The lighter’s in my nightstand.” Jake helped me lean back so that Natasha could stand, kissing my forehead, then jogging up the stairs. 

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Jake kissed my hair. I wanted to laugh but couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“That’s the thing that caught you off guard about this morning?” 

“I didn’t want to ask about the other thing,” My gentleman. I rolled my eyes, lacing my fingers with his, the warmth of his hand grounding me in the moment. “And I’m not going to but Daisy, baby, I’m here to do whatever you need.” I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut. 

“Go home, Jake. This is way more than you signed up for.” Natasha came downstairs with the sealed pack of cigarettes and a lighter, distracting Jake long enough for me to get up without him pulling me back to him. “Thanks, Tasha.” 

“Smoke slow, don’t give yourself a head rush,” She squeezed my arm. “I’ll order breakfast.” I squeezed her arm back and headed out to the porch without another word. 

The smoke burned my lungs, the cool menthol keeping my mind in check. This was going to get a lot worse before it got better, it always did. I would have to call my agent and my publisher, let them know I wouldn’t be making progress for a few weeks. Personal reasons. If Jason found out about Rudolph Lance, he would be trying to schedule me on whatever news channels and podcasts were covering the story and that was the last thing I needed. 

Once I finished the cigarette I gave the door a firm knock, a warning for Jake and Natasha that I was coming back in. They were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, staring at me as I walked in.

“Daisy, we should talk,” Natasha said but I brushed past them both, saying that I needed to brush my teeth. Halfway through my ABCs my stomach lurched.

“Shit.” I dove for the toilet, stomach acid and candy filling the basin. The door opened and then Jake was rubbing my back and holding my hair. This was the worst day of the last decade of my life and it just kept getting worse. 

Jake didn’t need to see me like this, he didn’t need to be weighed down by my personal baggage, and as much as I wanted to hold his hand through it all, it wasn’t fair to him. Even if he offered to. When there was nothing left to expel, I flushed, and Jake helped me stand with a steadying hand on my hip. He didn’t say a word as I brushed my teeth until my gums bled. 

“Go home, Jake.” I weakly shoved at his chest. “I mean it, you don’t need to be here.” He pulled me into his chest, resting his chin on my head.

“I’m not going anywhere, Daisy,” He promised, kissing my forehead. “If you’re here, I’m here with you. Remember?” The conversation last night felt like a fantasy, a dream, one that I wished I could return to and never leave. But this was reality and it was far from a dream.

“Go home,” I offered him another out while holding him tight. “I won’t hold it against you.” 

“Daisy,” He said sternly. “Stop trying to push me away because you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Okay, I was a little scared. “I’m pissed and I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He didn’t even budge, “But if you’re not going to run away screaming yet, can we lay in bed? With Tasha?” 

“I normally don’t share but I’ll make an exception,” Even in my tired state, I made sure to store that information away for a later date. Possessive Jake. It made sense. 

X

Natasha was the big spoon, curled protectively around Daisy while I had ear pressed against Daisy’s heart, listening to its steady beating. Javy was on his way over with Wendys, a bottle of tequila from Penny and Mav, and apparently the other guys had thrown in some gifts as well that Javy was in charge of delivering. Everyone had their own pasts and were understanding that something big was going down and were trying in their own ways to be supportive. Daisy had an entire adoptive family ready to help her through this ordeal but when it came to her own flesh and blood, well, that was another issue entirely. Every few minutes Phoenix would bring up calling Harvey but Daisy kept shutting her down before she could get through the full sentence. 

“He’d want to be here for you,” Phoenix tried again and I felt Daisy’s heart rate increase.

“I don’t give a shit, Tasha. No one tells Harvey, I’m the big sister, this is my responsibility.” My initial confusion was quickly overcome by a need to call my sisters and tell them that I loved them. Helen and Caroline had always had my back when it mattered and now I was realizing they might have been protecting me from things I didn’t even know about. 

“I don’t get it, Daisy.” Phoenix let out a frustrated groan, “Why don’t you-” 

“I’m the one who watched that monster slice our parents to ribbons, I’m the one who carried Harvey to the neighbors with my hand over his eyes, I’m the one who testified. Harvey is happy, healthy, and well-adjusted with three beautiful daughters and a wife.” Daisy’s voice was colder than I had ever heard it, leaving no room for arguments. “I would rather die than let that monster anywhere near my brother’s life, do you understand me? Lance can play his mind games with me all he wants but Harvey is off limits.” The sentiment was one I understood, wanting to protect her brother and his family, but the way she had phrased it sparked a different kind of worry in my chest.

“Fine,” Phoenix’s tone let it be known that there was nothing fine about the situation. She pulled away when someone, presumably Javy, knocked on the door. “I really hope it’s not the FBI again,” Phoenix huffed and for the first time this morning, Daisy’s laughter filled the room. It was hysterical laughter, the kind that didn’t make sense, but it made my chest feel just a bit lighter. Like things were going to be okay. 

“Jake?” She gasps between laughs and I adjust so that we’re eye-to-eye. Her dark eyes are rimmed red, filled with tears. 

“Yeah, baby?” Daisy surged forward and kissed me soundly but only for a second. I chased her lips as she pulled away, kissing her again. Daisy relaxed into my chest, breaking away with three quick kisses.

“This is your last chance to save yourself, Jake,” She whispered, dark eyes staring into my soul but I didn’t flinch. I kissed her again, softly, just for a moment.

“I told you, baby, I’m not going anywhere. If you’re here, I’m here with you.” 

Next Chapter

Taglist: @dizzybee03 @littlezee80 @cinderellasmissingshoes @carolina-on-my-mind03 @mizzzpink

[tgmsunmontue]

Saga of Solitude 12/21

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007) NINE (2008) TEN (2009) ELEVEN (2010)

CHAPTER TWELVE (2011) - Jake Seresin Interlude (OUCH)

                He’s got his wings.

                He can’t be kicked out of the Navy for being gay.

                Life is good.

                It could be better of course, and he’s not sure if being deployed for the first time as a naval aviator on the same carrier as Bradley Bradshaw is a good or bad thing. Bradley has been here since before Christmas and Jake had done a little double take when he’d caught sight of him, wishing he’d paid a little more attention to the ship manifest. Lesson learnt for next time and every time after that.

                Annoyingly everyone seems to fucking love him, he’s friendly and gregarious, not seemingly caring about duty or rank all while looking fucking gorgeous. Jake knows what he looks like naked, when he comes, what he looks like when he’s fucking Jake and what he looks like when Jake’s fucking him. He knows his fixation probably isn’t healthy but he can’t help it. He wonders if maybe things have changed, now that DADT has been repealed. If the short and sharp non-conversation they’d exchanged at Corpus Christi would have a different outcome now, with the changes that are coming. A part of him is desperate to know and the same part is terrified that the answer will be the same.

                No.

                Not interested.

                Not interested in a repeat.

                Not interested in friendship.

                Not interested in, heaven forbid, a relationship.

                Shut down before he could even raise the subject in the briefest of moments when Bradley had even acknowledged Jake’s existence.

                Fuck him.

…            …            …

                “They make a cute couple huh?”

                “Who?” Jake asks, because he’d just been watching Bradley. Again.

                “Bradshaw and Trace. They deny it of course, but they spend their leaves together when they align, don’t hold back posting photos together, and know each other’s families, what there is of it anyway. Been tight since USNA and then they went through flight school together.”

                Jake clenches his jaw, because he’d put money on Bradley and Trace being nothing more than friends, but Sandy is holding out his phone and then he’s looking at Natasha Trace’s private Facebook page. Photos of her with Bradley, them dressed in what is clearly a couples outfit for Halloween from last year, Woody and Jesse from Toy Story and that’s what he looks like with no moustache. Huh. He swallows down the anger and pain, forces himself to smile and nod. Okay, he’d still put money on it, but not a lot of money. He passes the phone back.

                “Cute, yeah.”

…            …            …

                “Class of 2010, you’ve been invited to dinner with a special guest. He is here simply as a guest, however please try and remember to be on your best behavior. Your actions do reflect the US Navy.”

                Jake isn’t sure why his year has been singled out, there are only three of them on the carrier who are fresh out of flight school, but maybe that’s the whole point. He sits at the table for the evening meal and makes small talk with the others as well as Admiral Kazansky, whose eyes are sharp and assessing. Jake feels a little like he’s on trial but the same questions are also directed at the others and Kazansky always offers up little amusing anecdotes from his own days and it’s nice, for all that it’s a meal with the brass.

                “Lieutenant Seresin, it was nice to meet you. Take care of yourself.”

                “Of course sir. Nice to meet you too.”

                He’s then asked to take Admiral Kazansky to the rec room, which he dutifully does. Fortunately he doesn’t seem to want to grill Jake further, almost making a beeline to where Bradshaw is sitting, although Bradshaw for once is looking pissed about something, and it seems more aimed at the Admiral than at Jake, which makes a nice change. Jake sidles around the side of the room to where Sandy is working out, knows Sandy was at flight school with both Bradshaw and Trace, so might actually know the answer to his question.

                “What’s with Admiral Kazansky and Bradshaw?”

                “Oh. I think his dad flew with him? Or… there was something. Family friends maybe? You know how the Navy can get.”

                Yeah. Jake does know and he’s also heard rumors linking Bradshaw to Maverick Mitchell, which somehow seems even more ridiculous than him somehow calling Admiral Kazansky a family friend. God, he has no idea what is true and what isn’t about him anymore. Every part of their weekend together had felt… real. Genuine. It had been so good and it had given him so much hope that maybe he’d find someone like that to spend the rest of his life with. And then he’d been introduced to the other side of Bradley Bradshaw.

                It still hurts.

…            …            …

                He gets put on a training exercise with Bradley and god he can fly. They’re all good, you don’t become an aviator by being mediocre but Bradley is… he flies easy as breathing and just watching him gets Jake hard. It’s kind of embarrassing and he takes his time doing post-flight checks, talks with the crew on deck about maintenance and hopes to avoid seeing Bradley in person, which shouldn’t be hard to do considering Bradley seems to assist by also actively avoiding him.

                He finally lets his guard down, the locker room deserted and quiet, he’s got his boots off and flight suit around his waist when he hears footsteps. Then there are hands on him, Bradley’s hands, his eye darker than usual and fixated on Jake’s face, on his lips. He can feel his hands pushing at his flight suit, a hand slipping inside to rub his cock, which never went down fully and Jake groans into the pressure, the confidence of Bradley’s grip on him.

                “Jesus Jake… you look so good out there.”

                He doesn’t know what to say, what to do, this complete three-sixty in his attitude is dizzying and then Bradley is on his knees in front of him, sucking him down and Jake doesn’t even have time to react before there’s tight-hot-sucking-pressure and he shoves his hand into his mouth and bites down on the fleshy part of his thumb muscle hard. He has no idea if there is anyone else in the locker room, it had been empty when he arrived. Or how close they are to being interrupted, this is the most reckless and stupid thing he’s ever done, and he wasn’t even trying or angling for it. Doesn’t even know if this changes anything. Suspects it doesn’t but he isn’t strong enough to raise any objection, not when it feels so good and exactly what he needs right now.

                Bradley doesn’t seem to want to draw it out at all, and it’s not a problem, he just lets himself come as quickly as possible, without any teasing or prolonged buildup, doesn’t need it when it’s so risky and also it’s Bradley’s hands and mouth on him. Asshole. He comes so fucking hard it’s almost painful, and he refuses to think about how the last time he had an orgasm with someone else it was also fucking Bradley Bradshaw. Then Bradley is kissing him, Jake can taste himself and tries not to pull a face, although Bradley is clearly not paying attention, his hand rapidly moving on his own cock and Jake doesn’t have the wherewithal to gather the energy or motivation to help, just watches with half-lidded eyes as Bradley comes all over his stomach.

                For the briefest of moments the only sound is their breathing, hard and rasping, then Bradley kisses him again, short and sharp and then mutters about needing a shower and leaves him standing there until he shakes himself out of the stupor of shock and also goes to have a shower. He chooses the cubicle the furthest away and stays under the water until his skin goes wrinkly.

                As he suspected would be the case when he gets to the mess hall, Bradley is back to ignoring him.

…            …            …

                His next shore leave he finds someone to take to bed, doesn’t care that it’s not Bradley, just needs to replace the memory of his hands and mouth on him with someone else’s.

                It doesn’t work.

…            …            …

                Bradley leaves the carrier and it’s like a weight has lifted but he also finds he still thinks about him too often. Wants to know if he’s safe and wishes he didn’t care so damned much. Javy is there instead though, which is far better and that at least helps ease some of his general unease. Of course the rumors start that he and Javy are more than friends, finally unafraid of showing their love or whatever bullshit the rumor mill is churning out. Javy just rolls his eyes and jokes, says they’re going to get married for the benefits and Jake forces himself to laugh and play along and not wonder how his life could be different.

[applebutter-and-cinnamon]

The Dance Hall

Summary: World War II setting. You meet Lieutenant Bradshaw at a dance hall a few nights after you are stationed in Hawaii.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Nurse Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff with slight angst. Please keep in mind that this is set in the 1940s, which is reflected in some of Natasha's reactions to things.

Read the Story: The Beach (Part 2)

The dance hall was in full swing around you as you took a minute to catch your breath. A jazz band was playing on a lit stage at the front of the dance floor where couples were twirling under the lights. The hall wasn't large but it wasn't the smallest one you'd ever been to either. There was a bar and plenty of tables. Tables, that you were taking advantage of as you took a slow sip of water.

"Y/n!" Natasha called out, exasperated. "You have to come dance again."

Natasha Trace was a fellow nurse and one that you considered to be a close friend. She was also the reason that you'd found yourself in the dance hall at all that evening. You'd arrived in Hawaii two nights earlier and found yourself a roommate in the form of Natasha. The two of you were assigned a small bungalow style house on base that you'd be sharing for as long as the Navy had you both assigned there.

She'd taken one look at you and decided to take you under her wing, or that's what she'd told you after helping you set your things down in the room that she had left for you.

"I will," you smiled, "I just wanted to rest for a second. I feel like we've been dancing for hours."

Natasha's eyes were shining in the dim light. Her hair was around her shoulders in dark waves and her red dress had caught more than one set of eyes tonight, she was an absolute bombshell. She'd dressed you for the evening in one of her own dresses, a navy blue dress that tickled your legs when you twirled in your heels.

"FIne, a minute. Not a moment longer," she commanded. "Is that for me?"

You nodded, handing her the second glass of water that you'd ordered.

"Thanks," she said, sitting in the chair next to you. "What do you think?"

You grinned, "I love it! It's beautiful here and you can see the beach right through the windows."

"We'll go every week then," Natasha laughed, "Every day if we can."

Natasha was fun. She was the kind of friend that encouraged you to dance the line of your comfort zone, not to pressure you, but give you the opportunity to try new things. When you'd told her that you hadn't been out dancing, she'd made it her mission to get you out on the floor before your first full day at the hospital.

You swirled the water around in your cup as you glanced around the room. The dance hall was full of navy uniforms and women in pretty dresses. Your eyes landed on two men in navy uniforms making their way across the room, walking in the direction of your table.

"I think that guy from earlier is coming over here," you laughed, leaning across the table to tell her.

Natasha smirked, "The blonde one?"

You nodded, grinning as Natasha tossed her hair over her shoulder. She'd leaned over like she was going to tell you something just as the blonde sailor who had been making eyes at Natasha all night and his friend walked up to your table.

"Ladies," the blonde sailor greeted. His smile was broad, showcasing a set of perfectly white teeth.

"Hi there," Natasha smiled. You dipped your head in greeting, watching the tension between the blonde sailor and Natasha.

"I am Lieutenant Jake Seresin" he introduced, "and this is my friend Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw."

Your eyes landed on the frame of the man next to him. His hair was a darker shade of blonde than his friends, but curlier.

"Good evening," Bradley offered. His voice was deep, the kind that could easily fill a room and it struck something inside of you that had your cheeks flush slightly.

He'd directed the statement towards both of you, but you took note of the way his eyes were gazing at you intently like he couldn't make himself look away.

"I'm Natasha and this is Y/n," Natasha spoke for both of you as you took a quick sip of water to calm the heat in your cheeks. "What brings you our way gentlemen?"

"We'd like to buy you ladies a drink, if you'd be open to it," Jake said.

Natasha smirked, "I was beginning to think you would never ask."

Jake's grin widened and he shared a look with Bradley who rolled his eyes at whatever expression Jake had thrown him. You watched with amusement as Natasha instructed them what to bring back to the table.

When they were walking back to the bar, drink orders in tow, you turned to Natasha completely wide-eyes and took in her unaffected demeanor.

"This is going to be fun," she told you with a devilish grin.

"Fun for you," you protested, "I'm going to make a complete fool of myself."

Her grin softened as she looked at you, "You're not going to make a fool of yourself, Y/n. Jake's friend -"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw" you interrupted without thinking.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw," she corrected with a raised brow, "Looked completely besotted with you. I wouldn't be surprised if he was the reason they came over here after all."

You shook your head, "No, that guy has been making eyes at you since we walked in."

Natasha rolled her eyes, "And his friend has been making eyes at you for just as long."

You felt your face flush again at her words, "No he hasn't."

"Yes, he really has," she continued.

"He has what?" Lieutenant Seresin commented as the two men walked back to the table, drinks clutched in their hands.

"Taken your sweet time to come talk to me," Natasha winked at him, accepting her drink from him.

You looked up as Lieutenant Bradshaw set your drink in front of you at the table. "Thank you," you told him. "Please, take a seat."

He shot you a half-smile, "I will, thank you."

You took a sip of the drink to calm your racing heart. It was perfect, just the way you liked it.

"What do you do for the Navy?" You asked him, ignoring the verbal sparing that Natasha was engaging in.

His amber eyes twinkled, "I'm a naval aviator, Ma'am."

"You fly?" You were sure that your expression was hysterical by the way his lips twitched upwards.

"Does that surprise you?" He teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "No, that's not what I meant at all. I just, flying is dangerous isn't it? And you have to be incredibly talented to get through flight school and everything. Plus, you all launch off of ships which has it's own set of difficulties -"

You cut yourself off, flushing again as you took in the way his eyes were light with amusement. "Sorry," you bit your lip, "I have a younger cousin that's really interested in becoming a pilot some day."

"I'm not offended," he chuckled, the sound of which causing your heart to stutter. "It's nice to know that you already know so much about my profession."

You were having a hard time believing that there was man that was this attractive outside of a book and that he was sitting here, talking to you of all people.

"How did you find yourself in Hawaii?" He asked, sipping from the whiskey in his glass.

"I'm a nurse," you told him, "This is my first assignment actually."

His forearms were leaning into the wooden top of the table as he leaned in closer to you. "Did the two of you arrive together?"

"No," you said, "I actually met Natasha a couple days ago, we're roommates. Have you known Lieutenant Seresin for long?"

"Unfortuantely," he grumbled and you laughed at the affectionate annoyance in his face.

His amber eyes lingered on you as you smiled, "We've known each other since flight school."

"Ah," you said. The band across the room changed keys and you let your eyes dart away from his as you recognized the tune. "This is one of my favorite songs," you said, excitedly.

"Could I - that is, would you care to dance with me?" His voice was steady but you caught the slight tremor in his hands as he set his glass down on the table.

You couldn't help the smile that took over your face, "I'd love to."

Standing from your chair, you took his extended arm and let him lead you to the dance floor. This close to him you could smell the warm woodsy scent of his cologne and something that smelled like the sea. It made you wish that he would pull you closer so that you could bury your face in his neck. An action that would definitely get you kicked out for the impropriety of it.

His hand settled at a respectable spot on your waist and the other held yours comfortably as he began to lead you around the dance floor.

He leaned down, positioning his mouth close to your ear, "You are the most beautiful girl I think I've ever seen."

You felt your breath hitch in your chest as his words caressed your ear and neck. Glancing up, you caught his gaze, so much closer to you now that you were in his arms. His expression was wide open as he let you see the honesty of his words.

"Thank you," you whisper. His hands tighten briefly at the sound of your voice so close to his ear and the strength in them makes a shiver shoot up your spine.

He takes a step back to twirl you in three fast spins in front of him in time with the music, your dress flaring out slightly as you did. The two of you dancing were a vision, with him in his dress whites and you in a blue dress you could've been an advertising poster for the Navy. Using the hand that was already holding yours, he twirled you back into his arms and the two of you glided across the floor as the song came to an end.

He didn't let go as the band changed songs and you didn't step away, the two of you just taking a second to look at each other as everyone else in the room faded into background noise. Both of his arms were wrapped around your waist now and yours were resting on the tops of his shoulders. There was still a respectable amount of space between you but you could feel the warmth that seemed to radiate from him.

"Let me take you out for dinner," he said, breaking the silence between you.

"When?" You asked, breathless.

He took a small step closer and you could feel the way his voice vibrated through his chest as he spoke, "Tomorrow, the next day, whenever you want Honey."

He kept looking back and forth between your eyes and your lips. You couldn't stop yourself from wetting your lips with your tongue. His eyes caught the movement and you watched his expression grow darker as he waited for your answer.

"Tomorrow, then?"

He nodded, "Tomorrow it is."

You were interrupted and pulled from his arms as Natasha grabbed you by the arm, pulling you to where your table was. You cast a look over your shoulder towards Lieutenant Bradshaw who was watching the two of you go with a confused expression that switched to an irritated one as Lieutenant Seresin walked up to him.

You chased after Natasha and watched as she grabbed both of your bags, hurrying towards the exit. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Natasha told you, her voice breaking. Your eyebrows drew together in concern. "I wouldn't have wanted to go on a date with him anyway."

"Natasha!" You exclaimed as she hurried out the door. You chased after her, following her out into the parking lot. She was helping herself into the car that she had rented when you finally caught up.

"He turned me down," Natasha told you as you moved into her earshot. "I asked him to dinner and he laughed at me."

You sighed, reaching out to grab her hand with your own in understanding. For Natasha as a woman to reach out the way she had and to be treated that way would've been incredibly embarrassing and hurtful. Especially surrounded by other members of the Navy.

"Natasha!" You both turned at the sound of her name being called, eyes widening as you took in the form of Lieutenant Seresin running across the parking lot.

"Y/n," Natasha muttered, "Get in the car, please."

You nodded, hurrying around to the other side. You stopped at the image of Lieutenant Bradshaw running towards you as Lieutenant Seresin ran past you to the car window.

"I - You never told me where to pick you up," Lieutenant Bradshaw huffed, chest rising quickly after his sprint.

You glanced behind you to see Natasha arguing with Lieutenant Seresin. You turned around, meeting his expression which now looked slightly panicked. He took his hat off and ran a hand through his curls.

"Hangman's an idiot, but I promise if you'll still let me our dinner together will be enjoyable," he told you. He was fidgeting with the cap in his hands, spinning it as he watched the situation behind you unfold.

"I still want to," you reassured him, giving him a soft smile. Reaching into your bag your grabbed an old receipt and quickly wrote your address down on the back of it.

He took it from you with a relieved look that had you relaxing as well.

"Y/n," Natasha called from the open window, "Let's go!"

"Natasha, just give me a chance. That's not how I meant it," Lieutenant Seresin was saying.

"I'm coming!" You called back. Lieutenant Bradshaw took a slight step back so you could get around him, but you stopped him with a hand on his arm. Summoning all of your courage, you stretched up on your toes and kissed him softly on his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He nodded, a hint of redness coloring the tips of his ears. "Tomorrow," he echoed.

You climbed into the passenger seat, Lieutenant Bradshaw closing it firmly behind you. Natasha hardly waited for the door to close before she was backing out of the space, completely ignoring Lieutenant Seresin and speeding towards the road.

You watched in the rearview mirror as their figures grew smaller before they disappeared as Natasha turned onto the road.

"What a night," Natasha mumbled.

"Yeah," you agreed, grinning softly. "What a night."

~~~~~

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! If there's any interest, I'm thinking about continuing the story. Let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in reading anything about Bob or Hangman in a WWII setting!

[majesticwren]

Goodness, Gracious, Great Balls of Fire (Lt. Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC)

Words: 8k Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Rooster being too hot to handle, mention of intimacy and commitment problems from OFC, mention of sex, fluff, mention of U.S. army and navy policies and engineering technicalities I know nothing about, dealing badly with past trauma, Hangman being a bit of an ass. Divider by: @firefly-graphics . Part 1 | Part 3

Part 2 - You Broke My Will, But What a Thrill.

I.

The first lights of dawn shined upon them way too soon that morning.

Nova got woken up by the timid song of an early bird welcoming the new day. It was singing way too close to the cracked window, for her taste.

As she inhaled a deep sigh, moving on the mattress and stretching between the bedsheets, she opened one eye, lazily looking around the room that she didn’t immediately recognise. It took a second for her brain to kick in, but then memories flooded her mind.

The bar. The aviators. The singing. The dancing. The drinking. The sex…

Her body was so sore moving even an inch was difficult. Bradley had joked about how wild and hungry she had been the night before, so difficult to sate and so impatient, but ultimately, he was the one who drilled into her like a fucking machine. She wouldn’t have been surprised to find bruises. She hoped to find bruises.

She still felt her belly full of satisfaction, so much so that she wanted to purr.

And yet, given the chance, she would have happily taken another bite from him.

Oh, but after the sex came the snuggling.

That was where everything got even more complicated. They had barely shared a bed before, let alone slept together. Last night was their first. She had seen the inside of his house maybe three times before, never during the day.

The biggest problem wasn’t even the sharing the bed part. The problem was that she liked to sleep covered by his skin. She liked to be the little spoon. She liked to be held tight by him, listening to his slow breathing and soft snoring, counting his heartbeats, and running her hands across his arms as he hugged her. She liked it so much she barely slept, both because of the adrenaline that it gave her and because she didn’t have any intention to miss a moment.

Though now that it was morning and her body was clearing off the tequila and beer she drank, Nova wasn’t so sure her decision the night before had been the best one.

Bradley wasn’t just a guy – oh, how she wished. No, he was still a Lieutenant, a Top Gun aviator, soon to be deployed somewhere for a mission that presented the possibility of him not coming back. Like any.

But now she knew how it felt to have his weight next to her in bed. Or his scent filling her nose. Now she knew he liked to sleep on his belly. And she knew he talked in his sleep. And she would have terribly missed it.

Damn him and his terrible idea to try and make things personal. She should have left last night. She should have broken things off when she could before it became unthinkable to lose him. Before he became someone to her. And now she was in it, she had to keep swimming, not to drown, but also, she couldn’t run.

As soon as she started moving to try and find some distance from the furnace that was his bare chest pressed against her back, he locked his arms around her, pulling her even closer. He was awake.

“Not getting away so easily-” he mumbled, still half-asleep, with his face buried in the pillow.

“Bradley, I need a shower.” She tried again to move.

He grumbled and then pulled her even closer, almost tucking her underneath himself. He inhaled deeply, only squeezing her more. He let his face fall onto her chest, taking another deep breath in. She didn’t even know how, but by then he had slid on top of her, and her body reacted without her giving her limbs permission to welcome him between her arms and legs so easily. Her treacherous fingers already sliding between his hair.

“No. You smell lovely.” She could feel his smile pressing on her skin.

“I smell of sweat and sex.”

“As I said, lovely.”

Nova gave him a soft push, sliding away from underneath him. “I need a shower. And I need to be at the base at seven. What time is it?”

“It’s early.” He mumbled falling back into the mattress, still trying to grab her.

She peaked over his shoulder, not at all surprised to find an old-school display alarm clock on his bedside cabinet.

He wasn’t wrong, it was a little past five o’clock. Yet, her point remained the same.

Nova slid out of bed, cursing everything that brought her to take promiscuous decisions last night and cursing Bradley for being so damn good to her. Maybe her toes were about the only part of her that wasn’t sore.

“You know I live ten minutes away from the base, don’t you?”

“Never paid attention.” She walked around his room on tippytoes, pretending not to be curious about every single detail she could spot. Pretending she didn’t desire to look at every picture hanging on the walls or read every book title he had on the shelves, or stick her nose in every drawer and closet, just to learn what tastes he had and acquire little pieces of knowledge about his day-to-day life. “Plus, I still need to get back to the bar to get my car and get home to get changed.”

“Can do that later.” He suggested, yawning. She heard him stretch and barely managed not to peak, knowing that it would have been extremely damn difficult to resist throwing herself at him if she did see how perfect and cute he looked just now, kissed by the pink light illuminating the room, barely covered by the thin linen.

“Later when?”

“Later tonight.”

“Brilliant. I will just show up at work in the clothes I was wearing last night. Everyone knows I left the bar with you, and they’ll know I definitely didn’t go home.”

“Wear something of mine.” He pulled himself up, pushing his back between the pillows. She could feel his eyes on her even if she was refusing to look directly in his direction because she knew he was dangerous business.

“Bradley-”

“No, I am serious. It will only have to take you to your locker. I’m sure you can bring yourself to borrow a shirt.”

She couldn’t argue with his logic. And yet, she really wanted to. “I can’t show up with a Hawaiian shirt on and pretend it’s nothing.”

“Why?”

“Look,” she turned towards him, really, really trying to waste as much time as she could arguing, so she didn’t have to think about how intimate it was to be in his house, the next morning, after heated sex and a heart-to-heart conversation in which she had basically exposed her feelings for him. “I know you think they look really good and, God, you are probably the only man looking as hot in them, rocking your moustache and sunglasses look in a way that makes my head spin,” surprisingly, she had no problem standing naked in front of him, even with the warm look he gave her as his gaze travelled across her figure. He was having dirty thoughts. She was sure of it.

She didn’t want to admit it, but that look took her breath away.

Nova shrugged, imposing control over her own mind. She had a PhD, she was Chief Engineer for God’s sake, that man had no right to bring her to such a state.

“The point is you are the one who dresses that way. I can’t show up with one of your outfits.”

“Do you really think my entire closet is composed of Hawaiian shirts?”

“Yes-” Nova panicked.

Bradley chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose, a moment before hinting towards the bathroom. “Have a shower darling. Fresh towels are in the cupboard,” he rested so comfortably between his pillows, looking like he had it all figured out, “and then you can dig in my closet. I am sure you’ll easily find an anonymous T-shirt or a tank top to wear. In the meantime, I will make coffee and cook us breakfast.”

He spoke calmly. His deep, raspy voice felt like honey. And the fact that he was softly ordering her around gave her a shiver.

Her headache and an empty stomach were incredibly grateful to his words, yet again his being caring and warm both made her melt away and made her feel like a trap was snapping around her.

“What about my teeth?”

“What about them?”

“I don’t have a toothbrush.”

Bradley smirked at her. He slowly got up from bed, moving like a lazy lion, looking at her with the same confidence a predator would have knowing she was cornered with no way out.

She had to appeal to all her control not to look at his gorgeous, naked body.

“I fucked you in every way known to men by now,” he pushed a finger under her chin, bringing her to look up into his eyes, “and you are concerned about sharing a toothbrush?”

“That is different!” Yes. Sharing a toothbrush included a level of intimacy she wasn’t ready to commit to.

Bradley smirked. “I’ve got spare toothbrushes. Cheaper to buy packets of three.”

“Of course, you do.” She sighed, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Though a smile still curved her lips.

She wasn’t even trying to leave. If she truly wanted it, she would have already bolded out of the door.

Bradley leaned in for a quick but soft kiss. “Move along, Chief Rivera,” he encouraged her with a spank, “let’s get this morning started.”

II.

Nova sat comfortably in the driver seat of Bradley’s Ford Bronco, enjoying the fresh sea air ruffling her hair.

As many things, she had learned Bradley liked classic, old-school stuff. His car wasn’t an exception.

After their little bickering that morning, she finally gave in, indulging him and his plan.

She had a hot shower and dedicated herself to some degree of skincare, all the while snooping in Bradley's things.

She should have known but was still surprised by how tidy his place was. Besides the fact that it was cleaned almost obsessively down to the inside of the drawers and the tops of the hanging frames, there were organised products in the bathroom cabinet and colour-coordinated sets of towels in the cupboard. She had found out that he was a flosser user and liked to moisturise, she should have known that one since how soft his skin was - part of her was even proud. There wasn't even one mismatched pair of socks in his drawers, and he folded his underwear. Stuff on shelves was organised in alphabetical order. His closet was organised in a colour scheme.

It wasn’t off-putting; she knew the organisation was one of the things the Army taught, but there was a level of care for his space and his persona that went above the strict rules he was used to. She spotted it in little things like the few thriving plants and blooming flowers on his patio. He clearly liked it that way.

The furniture was simple, everything had tones of beige. Not much appeared very personal, if not for a set of shelves filled with comic books and graphic novels and a vast collection of vinyl discs. On the walls he had hung several movie posters: Back to The Future, Ghostbusters, The Godfather, Indiana Jones, The Goonies, and more of the sort. While, around the TV in the living room, there were shelves packed full of movies.

He also owned a couple of guitars and a piano. But she knew that one. It was one of the few things she had noticed when visiting his house previously.

And then, next to the main window of his living room facing the patio, she found a small table covered in family pictures, surrounded by keepsakes and mementoes, some on the table, some hanging on the wall. Nova had a brief look but didn’t dare to overstep too much in his personal life. Though she did see his framed degrees and some medals, and she did gather that the rest was dedicated to his family. It was as if that corner was dedicated to mixing his greatest achievements with the people he loved. There were a lot of pictures, but most of them portrayed a beautiful woman with blonde hair. In some older ones, she was sided by a tall man that looked exactly like Bradley, down to his Hawaiian shirts and moustache.

She did want to know more. She wanted to know everything about his memories, his childhood, his teen years, his past girlfriends, his favourite movies – she wanted to know him. But she didn’t dare to ask any of the questions that buzzed around her head not then and not now.

Having breakfast together revealed to her he was also a good cook. Because of course, he was. And that he washed his own dishes. She never thought she could find something like that sexy.

Now, they were on their way to the naval base. She’s So Lovely, by Scouting For Girls, played on the radio and Bradley hummed to it, keeping the beat of the rhythm tapping his fingers on the steering wheel of the car.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Her chest was both exploding by the magnitude of the blooming affection she felt towards him and constricted by her fear for her own feelings and the uncertainty of their situation.

“You ok?” Bradley wondered sending her a quick look. Nova nodded quickly, breaking eye contact, and directing her gaze to the sea.

He gave her an affectionate pat on the knee, keeping her from drifting away into her own thoughts. “Stop worrying. It will be fine.”

She turned back towards him, her gaze was sharp, but also soft. She nodded again and, taking his hand between hers, she dragged it up to her lips, to trace a soft kiss on his knuckles.

Bradley let her and then slid his hand over her jaw and through her loose hair. “I promise you.”

“What are you promising me, Lieutenant Bradshaw?”

“I’ll do everything in my power to be careful.”

Nova pressed her cheek against his wrist. A sigh still left her chest. “We don’t know what’s coming. You cannot promise anything.”

He pulled his hand away and placed it back on the wheel, awkwardly shifting position on his seat. They both knew she was right. His words might have been noble, warm and encouraging and she really wanted to believe it could be in his power to decide that – she wanted to believe him. But she knew that wasn’t how things worked.

Recognising the intersection they crossed, Nova shrugged some sense into herself. “Drop me here.” She pushed a hand out, hinting where he could stop.

Bradley didn’t oppose her and pulled over.

Deciding not to arrive together was the only thing they seemed to agree on with no arguing that morning.

He was way early, his morning call wasn’t for another couple of hours, but still decided to drive her in and use the extra time to exercise. As for her, it would have been quick to walk the rest of the way and start her day as usual. She and her team had been called earlier to start the routine checks on several aircraft so she would have had plenty of stuff to do to distract her from whatever was going on with Bradley. Or at least, that was the hope.

She hesitated a second, before leaning in, and kissing his cheek. “Thank you for last night.”

Bradley just sat still. She could feel his tension raising but didn’t know how to give him comfort. She had no time, literally. And she didn’t know what to do or say to make it better. She wished she did.

There was a wall now, between them. He wasn’t expressing his thoughts as much as she was stuck in her own silence. The only thing she had to understand his behaviour was his body language. He was stiff, fidgeting his fingers over the wheel, his eyes pointed to the front of the car. He clenched his jaw and every time she spotted his cheek jerking, she imagined it could be something he wanted to say and then stopped.

She wanted to reach out. She wanted to pull him between her arms and console him, whispering comforting words to his ear, lying to them both only so they could take another breath without spiralling into the panic of uncertainty.

But she didn’t. She didn’t know how. And maybe it was better that way.

“I’ll see you later, Rooster.” She hinted at a wave, grabbing the backpack she borrowed to store her top and handbag she had the night before, before hopping off the car.

That wasn’t how she wanted things to go.

After all the tenderness they shared, departing in such a way felt awkward and so damn cold. So much so that her skin crawled as she damned herself for her decisions.

Why wasn’t she able to accept that Bradley was important to her and that yes, it was terrifying, but he was probably just as scared? So, being scared together might have been better than doing it alone.

Nova walked over to the sidewalk and kept going forward, doing her best not to drop everything and turn to run straight back to Bradley.

She really hated herself sometimes.

He hadn’t moved. She could still hear the engine of the Bronco rumbling behind her. And then the door creaked.

“Hey, Chief,” he called.

Nova rolled her eyes, both finding relief and damning them both. But before she could think about anything else, he grabbed her. He swung her between his arms, lifting her off the ground, and found her lips in a famished kiss.

Nova dropped her bag and immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sliding both her hands between his hair and kissing him back with everything she had to give.

Her heart jumped out of her chest.

When Bradley leaned back, putting her back on the ground, he softly leaned his forehead against hers, sighing softly. “You do drive me insane.”

This time it was her who kissed him. Pulling on his shirt she dragged him closer, sealing their lips together once again. Hungry and desperate. Unable to keep away now that he was that close. Unable to think straight. Unable to survive the burning feeling that vibrated through her stomach and chest, connecting her to him and everything he was.

Breaking the kiss, maybe too suddenly, and yet remembering she also had pressing matters to get to, such as work, Nova recollected her thoughts with a deep breath, sliding her hands across Bradley’s shoulders and chest, only to push him back enough to give her some air to breathe in that wouldn’t smell heavily of his appetizing scent.

“I’ll see you later, Rooster.” She whispered, still short of breath, repeating her words from earlier. Though this time she offered him a warm smile.

“That’s better.” He leaned in for another kiss, but she pushed him away before it could become anything more than a peck. Nova gave him a quick pat on the chest and then grabbed her bag off the floor.

Starting to back away she pointed towards him in a playful warning. “I need to go to work, you rascal.”

“I am a decorated Lieutenant, ma’am, where is the sympathy?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Gave you plenty of that already. Now go, let me be. I’ve got other things to do besides you.”

“Bummer.”

Even if there were now a good two meters dividing them and she had all the intention to get on with her day - especially because being late to work wasn’t acceptable. Not in the Navy – the wink and side smirk he offered her still made her feel as lightheaded, ready to forget all her duties.

“Have a good day, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

III.

“So?”

“So what?”

Jen gave her a look as clear as the sky was, impatient to have information. Nova directed her attention to the belly of the plane she laid under, fiddling with a malfunctioning front landing gear. She pulled the wrench, tying the bolts, trying to exhaust her frustration on that simple task.

The younger woman was crouched next to her, with a PC in her lap, monitoring the electrics.

“You expect me to believe nothing happened?”

“Yep.”

“C’mon. Even if I didn’t see you leaving the bar with him. And I am not saying I did,” she winked at her, “and even if I didn’t notice that you are wearing man underwear and that you’ve got a hickey the size of my face on your belly,”

“Jennifer Hammond!” Nova automatically brought her arms around her abdomen, as if she was actually uncovered. She knew that her skin was well hidden under the cottony material of Bradley’s tank top she was still wearing, and under the uniform overall. Yet, she also knew Jen wasn’t wrong.

Yes, there weren’t many women working at the base. And yes, she and her team were between the people that arrived at the base the earliest that day. So, the locker room wasn’t at all crowded when she had to change. But apparently, it was still enough.

Part of her cursed Bradley and his stubbornness in marking her. Ignoring the fact that she was the first who left scratch marks all over his back.

“What? Are you denying it? Are you gonna tell me it’s a bruise?”

Nova pushed herself from under the plane and sat in front of her, making direct eye contact. “I’m gonna tell you that your PhD depends on this job so I would talk less and work more.”

Jen rolled her eyes grumbling. “Point being, no one missed the googly-eyes he gave you earlier when you crossed in the hall.”

Nova huffed. “Ok. Fine. You score ten on ten on perception. I went home with the Lieutenant. Are you going to let me work now?”

“I want to know about the mission.”

“I don’t know more than I knew yesterday, Jen.” No. She only knew that she had a few weeks before she had to say real goodbyes to Bradley. “And now I am serious. I am not Nova. I am your boss. Stop talking about this. Or I will have to act upon it.”

Jen immediately changed her behaviour. She sealed her more naïve and youthful emotions in a serious face and nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am. I did not mean to overstep.”

“Good. Now, let’s get this babygirl back into shape.” As she reclined back under the plane, a heavy set of steps approached. The rhythm of the boots hit the hot asphalt was unmissable.

“Attention, Chief Rivera.”

She was immediately on her feet. She didn’t need to recognise the thunderous voice that called for her name to know it was required of her to respond to orders. Though, being called by the Rear Admiral meant more than serious business.

She stood tall. Shoulders widened, chest pushed forward, solidly standing on her feet and looking straight in front of her. Nova pushed a hand on her forehead, saluting the man. “Yes, Admiral Bates, Sir?”

“You have been called to attend the meeting on deck.”

Nova gathered her arms neatly behind her back, her chin raised. “May I ask why, Sir?”

“Your expertise is required. It is all I can say.” He sent a clear look to Jen, hinting at the fact that they weren’t alone. So, Nova turned towards her, exchanging a quick nod. “Hammond, finish to gather the stats, log the weight of the aircraft and the pressure on the hinges and wheels. Then, go help the rest of the team set the F-18s for the aviators. This one will have to be transported into the hangar, it is not fit for taking-off and landing procedures yet.”

Nova abandoned her post, following Warlock.

Walking behind him, she slid back into her uniform wearing it properly, instead of keeping it hanging, tied around her waist with its sleeves, as she did when she worked and it was unbearably hot.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Chief Rivera.”

“May I ask now?”

“Several Top Gun aviators had been called back to train for a mission. They will fly the F-18s, so you and your team have been appointed to make sure that the Hornets are in perfect shape.”

“That’s my job, Sir. I never let anyone fly on a plane unless I am sure it’s in its best shape.”

Warlock stopped and slowly turned towards her. His look was impenetrable. “These are the best pilots the Navy has to offer. We do not underestimate the quality of your job, Chief. But it is required that we assure with no shadow of a doubt, that they will fly the best, strongest, aircraft. It is why you are here.”

“I appreciate the opportunity, Sir. Anything else?”

“Yes, in fact. Your deployment has been signed in three weeks' time.”

“Sir?”

“You will follow the F-18s. I am afraid Admiral Simpson doesn’t trust anyone else with his aircraft.”

“I am honoured. I will serve to the best of my abilities.”

She had no time to digest those official orders. Her heartbeat was quickened, and her breath constricted in her tensed ribcage. She knew that conversation had a magnitude, she only had to wait for it to hit her.

A shiver crossed her. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t worrying. It wasn’t adrenaline. It was only cold and electric. She had been called for arms. She was going to be deployed too.

“It is required of you and your entire supervision team to sign some disclosure papers for your involvement in the mission. Yours are waiting on deck. Though it will be to your own advice how much you’d be disclosing with the rest of your team about the sensible details you’ll learn today.”

“Is my entire team following me?”

“That is entirely up to you, Chief Rivera. The Admiral only required for you specifically. We can provide for another team of experts on the aircraft carrier ship.”

“Do I need to take a decision right now, Rear Admiral?”

“No, Chief. You have a few days. Would you like my personal advice?”

“Yes, Sir.” She nodded, looking right into his dark eyes. His expression was still impossible to decipher, his seriousness was only underlined by his uniform and title. “Sign the papers. Talk to your team. Value their wishes. I understand you are sided by brilliant minds-”

“They are kids, Sir.”

“Indeed, Chief. Nonetheless, this could represent a golden opportunity for their careers. Speak to them, forget that they are kids.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Nova answered with a sharp nod, moving her eyes over her shoulder, sliding back into a more controlled, stiff position.

“Anything else I need to know, Sir?”

The shadow of a faint smile appeared on Warlock’s lips, as he bent his head in a nod. “Oh, yes. I’ve almost forgotten. You are required to test them, Chief.”

“My team? I will, Sir. But I can assure you-”

“No, Chief. Not your team. The fact they are under your wing is already guaranteeing enough,” a cutthroat smile appeared on his lips, this time he didn’t even try to hide it. “The pilots.”

IV.

She was not a teacher.

She was the one who knew those aircraft better than anyone else. Her job required her to be basically able to fix their entire engine without even looking. No one else in the entire base was a match.

She understood that time was of the essence and that they clearly had no time to waste to find someone who had enough expertise and detailed knowledge, and patience, to sit there and correct the tests the aviators will take.

But she was not a teacher.

She had said it during her brief attempt to get such responsibility put on someone else's shoulders. And yet the answer received had been plain and simple. Admiral Simpson wanted her to do it.

Though, thank God, the requirement for that part of her task wasn’t as bad as it appeared to be in the beginning. She wasn’t supposed to be teaching them anything particular, per se. They had someone else for that. She was supposed to get them a pop-quiz kind of test about the theory of the F-18s and the technicalities of flying them and supervise them while they took it.

And then she was required to grade them.

Nova had the afternoon to take care of that. The Admiral had required her to be done with it by five that same evening.

Nova fidgeted, pacing up and down the deck, listening to the line ringing. God bless technology only when it worked as intended.

“C’mon. Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she chanted, praying, getting more and more agitated by the second.

“Hello?” After what appeared to be a fucking eternity, Nova was so happy to hear his voice that she welcomed it with a small gasp. She even hopped. “Thanks fuck. James? Listen to me. I do not care what you do and how you do it. I need you to get me four different kinds of tests about the theory behind the F-18, three copies each.”

“What? Why?”

“No questions. I will explain later. Just do it.”

“Ok,” he paused. His hesitation was as clear as day, she didn’t need to see him know he was extremely confused, “you mean the kind of stuff we get out to test the pilots training for their Top Gun degree?”

“Yep, exactly those. Only-” shit, they had no time to tweak them, “forget it, we’ll have to use those as they are sampled. Get out the most recent ones you can find.”

“Ok, I’ll get on it as soon as I am done with-”

“No. Get on it now. And I mean pronto, I need them an hour ago.”

“How long do I have, Chief?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“Jesus, Chief! How am I-”

“I said I didn’t care what you had to pull out of your ass to do it. I’ve received the order only ten minutes ago, I’m not in a better position,” Nova stumbled upon her own words, sighing. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head, taking a quick decision that she might have regretted later, “ok, listen. You have an hour, top. But you’ll have to put a fake question in them. Each one is different. I want to see if they know when even the book is wrong. Have them printed and ready by the classroom, alright?”

“Right. I’ll get on it. What about the Hornets, Chief?”

“They are flying out this afternoon.”

“Yes, I know.”

“How are Luke and Jen doing? Can they supervise the unit alone?”

“They’ll have to.”

“Good boy. I like the spirit. Now go. Run like the wind. You’ve got fifty-eight minutes.”

Cutting the call, Nova slid her phone into her pocket, walking back towards the meeting point.

It was unmissable. The Navy surely had a great idea for theatrics, since the hangar they picked for that official meeting had been prepared specifically for it, with tables and chairs for the pilots and a ginormous U.S. flag hanging from the ceiling.

And they called it patriotism.

Looking at it, Nova wondered how long it took them to set it up – and how long, opposed to that, it took them to decide to give her an official, almost impossible task to be carried out in a matter of minutes.

She exchanged a brief look with Admiral Simpson and with Admiral Bates, nodding towards them that their request was in motion.

She was so clearly not happy about it. But orders were orders.

And then she stood there, hands gathered behind her back, chin risen, waiting, like everyone else.

All the Top Gun aviators that had been called were there. Bradley was there. And pretending he was only another anonymous face to her was the hardest thing she had to do. She bit her tongue every time her eyes would drift off, looking for him. Eventually, the pain would have taught her to stop.

Surely it didn’t help her forget that he sat only a few meters away, looking so good in his pilot uniform.

She didn’t keep herself from studying everyone else though. Nova recognised a few faces from the Hard Deck, exchanging with Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy and Payback a quick look. And she surely didn’t miss the glance Hangman sent her, because he made sure to let her know he was looking at her. He even smirked annoyingly.

“They really have a thing for perfect timing, don’t they?” The man standing next to her mumbled, whispering, looking at his watch. Nova wasn’t sure if it was intended for her, but a smile curved her lips. “They sure do.” As she whispered back, the man exchanged a quick look.

She had never seen him before, but by then it went without saying that he was another decorated expert called by the Navy to take part in the mission.

“I’m Barnie Coleman, sign name Hondo, Chief Warrant Officer.” He whispered extremely softly, not to break the reverential silence that weighed over the entire hangar.

Nova smiled. For a moment she wondered why they called him, but then again, she thought she might have time for more personal presentations later. “Nova Rivera, Chief of the mechanical engineering department. Those are my planes out there.”

“You’re not a pilot?”

“God, no,” she shivered, “don’t like flying.”

“Tough gig you’re into.” He dared to give her a little side look, trying to hide his smile bending his head slightly.

“Good to know someone finds this funny.” She mirrored his look, offering a tiny smirk.

“Must be very good at your job to be here.”

“I’m the best.”

A moment of distraction was all she needed. As soon as she felt the pressure lifting from her spirit, her eyes immediately fell on Bradley, going where her heart led them.

He was waiting for her look. His brown eyes assumed the colour of warm caramel under the bright light surrounding him. His expression remained serious, but his gaze melted through ice.

Maybe it was only her impression, or maybe he was giving her googly-eyes for real, but she felt naked, for a moment, in front of everyone. The silence was so loud around her, only making her spiral into the panicky idea that everyone around her could now know that there was something between her and Rooster.

It didn’t matter.

She widened her shoulders and lifted her chin, breaking eye contact, biting her tongue so hard she made it bleed.

V.

“I cannot believe that was you.” Hondo laughed loudly, as the two of them strolled on the strip of black asphalt where the F-18s were neatly parked.

Nova nodded with pride, sending the man a quick look. “Yep. I swear. That research and publication granted me this gig.”

“Well, fuck me and pardon my language Chief Rivera, but consider me impressed.”

“Please, call me Nova. I guess we’ll be working together for a while.”

Hondo nodded, sending her another look. Then he chuckled again, shaking his head. “You don’t even know it, but the results of your research on the formula are what I used to develop my most recent and most impressive project.”

“Oh, yeah? I’d love to know the details! But I suspect they will be hidden under confidentiality.”

Hondo nodded, hiding behind a smirk that made his dimples pop up.

He was a surprising man, a soldier, an aviator and a great mind. And it was surprising how he had all the control of a man of his rank and then some, and at the same time, he managed to appear like an extremely warm and welcoming person.

She had decided she liked him.

During their chattering she had found out he was Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell’s second, siding with the Captain in the training of the Top Gun aviators.

“You’ll let me know if you are ever interested in upping your career, yes?”

“I am honoured, Hondo-” before she could move in any way, as she was ready to politely decline his offer due to the sweet deal she found herself into at the moment, the man placed a hand on her arm, offering her a small bow with his head. “Don’t. Just think about it. Now, next week or next year, it wouldn’t matter. The honour to have you on my team would be mine.”

And that day wouldn’t stop being an extreme roller-coaster of emotions and happenings.

She didn’t know what the fuck was happening in the universe, but if she wouldn’t end up having a breakdown at the end of a day like that, then she suspected she could survive anything.

Nova smiled at him, politely following his suggestion and just nodded.

“Well,” Hondo clapped his hands, raising his head and looking around “it might be time for me to make myself useful, uh? Where can I find one of your subordinates to get filled in?”

Nova looked around. The strip was buzzing with energy. People moved around under the heat of the Sun, preparing the planes for that afternoon flying session. Some engines were already running.

She spotted Luke between everyone else. He was holding his tablet and notebook in one hand, as he talked to a couple of their staff members, clearly explaining to them something very specific about one of the aircraft they stood close to.

“There,” Nova pointed in his direction, “that is Luke Levy-Parker, he is one of my supervisors and the setting up procedures are his bread and butter. He is the man you want to talk to.”

Hondo nodded and departed from her with a salute signal.

As soon as she was left alone, Nova finally took a moment to breathe, deflating her chest of all the weight she had acquired in the past couple of hours.

First, there was Bradley and everything that concerned their actual situation, then there was her job and her involvement in the mission. One situation automatically complicating the other even more, now. And then again, there was the news that she had to be called to be deployed. Topping everything up with the possibility of a new job offer that had just been slipped into her pocket.

But what was concerning her the most now was Rooster. Besides the fact that she was perfectly aware of the fact that such thought shouldn’t be the most important to her, since the pressing matters involved them both. And yet…

That was the specific reason why she didn’t want to get personal with him – nor anyone else that was related to work or wore a uniform for that matter.

After the official meeting, Nova had no chance to catch up with her thoughts or emotions, but she knew something went wrong. She had seen him change. She had seen his eyes harden and his posture stiffen as he recognised Captain Mitchell.

Bradley didn’t make eye contact with her again, after that. It was as if he was detaching himself from her. The idea that, for whatever reason, he was now shutting her out, ripped a hole into her chest.

There was nothing she could have done to understand what happened. And surely there was nothing she could have done to try soothing him. She knew him enough to know he was extremely unsettled. But her hands were tied. She couldn’t help, being relegated to the role of a stranger to him – by her own choices.

Nova struggled to think about anything else the entire time.

She had to sit on a stupid chair behind a stupid desk, supervising twelve grown-up Top Gun aviators taking a test, for an entire hour, sided by Maverick and Hondo. And after that, everyone was on the move again, following a strict agenda that didn’t admit for anyone to lose even a second. All the aviators were called to go and get ready to fly as Nova was dispatched to the runway for the last check-ups before the Hornets would be given permission to fly.

She was barely able to breathe, and yet she had to keep a brave face, knowing there were more important things to worry about. And yet, part of her, a side she was ashamed of, couldn’t care less of honour and duty, in front of the possibility that someone she cared for could be struggling with whatever it was that Bradley was dealing with.

She looked up at the front of the planes aligned around her, checking the numbers of the vehicles until she found what she wanted. The aircraft numbered 410. That was Rooster’s.

Enjoying maybe a second of silence and peace, she leaned closer to the plane, sliding her hand across its side with the same tenderness she would reserve if she was holding Bradley’s face in her palm. Nova released a sigh and as her chest trembled, she closed her eyes, dreaming, for only a moment, to be standing in front of him, with the freedom to push her face into his chest.

Look after him. She prayed to whatever guardian angel Bradley had protecting him.

“Does mine get your blessing too?”

Nova jumped, surprised by an intruder’s voice. His prickly tone was unmistakable though. She raised her eyes, meeting Jake’s icy gaze, and a slow grumble left her chest. She was too exhausted to deal with him being an asshole.

She hinted at the sign of the cross towards him. “Go with God, you’ve been blessed, my child.” She couldn’t have been more sarcastic than that.

He shook his head and, holding himself up so proudly, he moved closer to her. “Tell me, what do you see in him? What does he have of so special?”

“Sorry? What am I missing? Jealous of a plane, Hangman?” Nova patted the side of the aircraft, smiling, “it’s a girl, by the way.”

Jake chuckled and shook his head, moving even closer. Now standing a bit too close for Nova’s taste, cornering her between him and the aircraft. “You know exactly who and what I am talking about.”

She raised her chin proudly, not afraid to face him. “No. I don’t think I do, sorry.”

Jake offered one of his sharp smiles and it felt like a cold blade pressing against her throat. He pushed a hand on the side of the plane, just above her head, leaning in on her. “I saw you.”

“Hangman you better get to the fucking point I’ve got another six planes to bless. Full schedule you see?” She huffed, not inclined to play with him whatever game he was picking.

His smile only grew. He looked around, as to make sure they were alone, and then he leaned closer to her, as to whisper in her ear. “I saw you with Rooster, darling. Only this morning. Went out for a run. You two sure looked snuggly. Fucking coincidence that you are the one who gets to judge and score our theoretical knowledge, uh?”

Nova froze.

Wasn’t that day done with her? There was more? And of such magnitude that she felt the floor tremble under her feet? What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to react? When did it happen that the world became so fucking small and so fucking against her to curse her existence so?

Besides the shock of knowing someone found out – someone with an extreme God complex and the power of possessing such information, Nova was also pervaded by the anger given by what hid between the lines of his words. “What the fuck are you implying, Lieutenant Seresin?”

She knew exactly what he meant. Either he thought she was a slut favouring Rooster, or he thought that Bradley himself was the slut. Either way, she was now pissed off.

“I am simply observing.”

“What, are you that afraid of the competition?”

“I am not afraid of anything; you should know that. On the contrary of your-”

“Step away Hangman.” A third voice broke through the scene.

Bradley stood there, with his full uniform on and gear. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the lenses of his sunglasses but God he looked livid. And gorgeous.

As soon as Jake got distracted, Nova slid under the plane and around it, getting as far away from him as she could. Not for fear, maybe because of disgust, but mostly because she was truly afraid she could snap and get violent.

With her safely tucked away behind him, now Bradley stepped forward, looking dead into Jake’s eyes. “I won’t warn you again about this.”

Again? What did that mean?

“And what? Is that a threat?”

“It is whatever you want it to be.”

Jake chuckled exchanging a look with Bradley and then looking over his shoulder, looking for her. He raised his hands, hinting at a peaceful gesture, backing off. “Whatever I was just saying how lovely you two are. Together.”

“You better keep your mouth shut.”

Jake laughed to Bradley’s face trying to diminish his words but didn’t continue any further. He simply sent both of them a look, before sliding passed to get to his aircraft. He brushed shoulders with Bradley and then mimicked sending her a kiss.

She didn’t have time to think about that either when Bradley caught her look. She was pulled by an invisible force to step closer to him. Though as she did, he seemed to act even more awkwardly, distancing himself from her, looking away. “I didn’t have the time to tell you he knows.”

“And now I know.”

Bradley nodded severely. “Might be time to consider officially flagging out that we had a thing to HR and signing the papers – just so I won’t lose my job if Hangman decides to talk. I do not care what you want to do with that after, you can rip them, and we don’t have to talk about this ever again but-”

His words, more than that, the frost in his tone as he spoke about them as if they were nothing but a mere incident to be signed off, slashed through her, breaking her heart into pieces.

No, she had never been ready to officialise things. The reason why they were in that situation was her. She wanted it to remain a secret and she had been comfortable with their thing being no more than that – but how did it all become so fucking complicated?

“Bradley,” she whispered, trying to get his attention, ignoring the barrier he had raised between them and stepping closer – even if his body language clearly didn’t wish it, “look at me.”

He didn’t.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, look at me.”

Just now he faced her, raising his chin and pushing his chest forward, acting as if he had been called upon by a fellow soldier on official business, no more than that.

She knew she wanted to keep their affairs a secret, but that was over the top. That wasn’t Bradley and it surely wasn’t the kind of behaviour she was used to receiving, even when they had to pretend. Now he was treating her like they were actual strangers.

God, how much she wished to touch him.

“What happened?” She whispered, unable to pretend his detachment didn’t leave her completely out of breath.

“Nothing happened, Chief Rivera. I am simply trying to protect my career.”

“Bullshit. You know this is not us.”

“There’s no us.”

“You are treating me like shit for what, Lieutenant?”

“I am giving you what you wanted. Now you won’t have to worry, Chief Rivera. You are freed of any personal involvement with me.”

“What th-”

“I need to get ready to fly. You are dismissed.”

[nobody7102]

Kinkmas 2022, Day 6: Thigh Riding

Pairing: Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace x Reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, thigh riding, edging, rank kink, Lieutenant kink, ruined orgasm

A/N: this has nothing to do with this story but this GIF! Monica ma’am, what you’re doing with your hand should be illegal

Main Master-List

Kinkmas List

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“Look at you” Natasha cooed “So needy” she hummed feeling her jeans grow damp as Y/N rutted against her thigh. Brining her hand up to brush hair out of Y/N’s face she tilted her head, taking in the sheen of sweat that coated her body before letting her hands trail upwards to gentle brush against her breasts. Smiling as Y/N whined she took her nipples between her fingers, lightly pinching them as Y/N’s eyes closed and head fell back as the lewd sounds fell from her mouth. “Now my Sweet Girl… Is this all you’re getting tonight?” Natasha raised her brow, voice dripping with lust.

Nodding her head as she braced herself on Natasha’s shoulders “Yes” she panted.

“Why is this all you’re getting?” Her hands fell back down to her hips, holding her even more firmly against her thigh, a high pitched moan emitted from Y/N “No no no, Answer my question angel” feeling the start of a shake in Y/N’s body as she curled forward, letting her head rest against Natasha’s shoulder “Why is this all you’re getting tonight?”

“Because I- I…” shaking her head, Y/N tried to form her words, but all that fell from her mouth was whines. “Lieutenant!” tucking her head into Natasha’s neck, feeling a warning tap against Y/N’s hip, she huffed knowing that Natasha was growing impatient “I was-... I was a bad girl” 

Leaning her head down, Natasha trailed her lips along Y/N’s neck “That’s right… You weren't being my Sweet Girl were you?” she felt Y/N nod against her “Do you know what happens to bad girls?” she let one of her hands trail down to slowly, almost painstakingly circle Y/N’s clit. 

Feeling her body break out into a full tremble “Fuuu- Lieutenant Trace!” her knuckles turned white as she gripped onto Natasha’s shoulders. “Lieutenant I- fuuck, I’m so so- Ahh I’m gonn- NO!” she sobbed feeling Natasha rip her hand away from her clit and yank her off of her thigh.

Catching Y/N’s chin between her fingers “Bad Girls don’t get to cum”

—-

Something to peak your interests: @thesluttyarchivist @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @beachbabey @sebsxphia @sweetlittlegingy @mothdruid

[topguncortez]

Pain Makes You Stronger || Whumptober Day 22 - N. Trace

whumptober masterlist

synopsis: Natasha deals with the aftermath of the situation with Captain Underwood. She thought that the Navy would have her back, but she was met with a rude awakening.

word count: 600

@ailesswhumptober prompt: punishment

warnings: sexual assault, sexual harassment, victim blaming, retaliation, the military failing to protects its own people

“If you stay still, it’ll hurt less.” 

Those words had bounced around in Natasha’s head since they slipped from Grim’s mouth. The look on her face was one of utter fear and shock. Natasha felt sick to her stomach, as she watched the tears fall from Grim’s eyes and the sickening understanding that they had were victims in a sick situation. 

Natasha’s brain was running a mile a minute as she sat in the victim advocate’s office. As soon as she had said something about Captain Underwood, Jake had marched her down to the VA’s office to file a report. She waited to tell him to take Grim instead, having a feeling that whatever was going on with Grim was worse than what she went through. But instead, Natasha sat in the uncomfortable chairs, waiting for the VA, Captain Sanders, to come in. 

“Have you talked to Grim?” Natasha asked Jake quietly. Maverick had her placed on mental health leave, it was one of the only things he could do to keep her safe from Captain Underwood. 

“No,” He shook his head and shifted in his seat. 

Jake had been beating himself up ever since he blew up on her. He wanted to reach out and apologize but he didn’t know how. He was so angry that something like this was going on right under his nose. He prided himself on being able to take care of his team, taking care of his wingmen. He knew something was going on with Grim, but he never knew that it was something so vile and awful. Jake had little sisters and it made his blood boil thinking of someone hurting them. 

“Do you think she’ll come back?” 

Jake shrugged, “I don’t know. . . guess we’ll find out.” He sat up a bit straighter as the door opened and Captain Sanders walked in. 

“Lieutenant Commanders,” She nodded towards them before sitting down in her chair, “The investigation into your report has been completed. . . . and the board has found Captain Underwood not guilty of the accusations against him.” 

Natasha felt like her heart had stopped in her chest. The words the Captain Sanders continued to speak went in one ear and out the other. The only thing Natasha could hear was the disgusting voice of Captain Underwood and the feel of his lips on hers. A burning sensation crawled up her throat as tears prickled her eyes. 

“So he just gets away with it,” Jake scoffs, “He gets away with abusing and assaulting-” 

“We have no actual proof that he assaulted anyone,” Captain Sanders shrugged. 

Jake clenched his jaw and looked away from the woman across from him. He had no words to say. He didn’t even know how to fight this. How could he? Natasha hadn’t said anything about Grim, deciding it wasn’t her story to tell, and Jake agreed. It was Grim’s story to tell, and she decided not to for a reason. Natasha was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, she should’ve kept quiet as well. 

“So what do I do?” Natasha asks, “Go back to work and have to look at him every single day?” 

Captain Sanders sighed sadly, “He’s been given strict instruction not to speak to you or be near you. That’s the best we could do.” 

“The best you could do is get rid of an abuse-” 

“Jake,” Natasha said, shaking her head. The fight was useless. There was nothing that neither one of them could do. Natasha swallowed and looked down at her hands, “So this is my punishment? This is what I get for wanting to protect not only myself but any other woman who walks through those doors. I get it, we are supposed to protect the country. . . but who protects us?”

Captain Sanders gave her a sad smile, “Sometimes. . . it’s better to just let these things go.”

taglist: @els-marvelvsp @sarahsmi13s @topgun-imagines @cassiemitchell @xoxabs88xox @seitmai @a-reader-and-a-writer @bradleybeachbabe @kmc1989 @senawashere @beautifulandvoid @ohtobeleah @rogersbarnesxx @oatmealisweird @dempy @devil-angel-winchester @gillybear17

note: I'm sorry that this is so short. I promise the next one will be better

[themorriganwitch]

Pretty Girl / Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace

Summary: It’s just porn, with absolutely no plot

Warnings: 18+, MDNi!! , overstimulation, bit of edging, rank kink, oral (f recieving), fingering, Dirty Talk, it’s really just smut , English is not my first language so be aware  that there will be mistakes

Pairing: Natasha Trace x girlfriend!reader 

Words: 0,8k

A/N: This is  the first smut I have ever written, I would love to get some feedback on it, so please don’t be shy. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“There you go, pretty girl”.

The smile on Nat’s face could be easily described as devilish as she watched two of her fingers slowly pumping into your dripping cunt.

“Such a good girl waited your entire day to come home to me and let me fuck you senseless, huh”.

You tried to answer but the only thing that left your mouth were plenty of desperate sounding moans. “If you want to come, sweetheart, you better use your words”.

You wanted to answer, you really did, but this torture now lasted for what feels like hours. Nat slowly pumping her fingers in and out, giving you exactly what you need to build up that beautiful pressure in your lower stomach but stopping every time you get close enough to fully get shattered.

Hot tears are starting to build up in your eyes while you desperately thrust your hips against your girlfriend’s hand, in attempt to reach your high. “Please, please, Nat”, you babbled not able to form a full sentence.

Your back arched when Nat’s thumb met your swollen clit, the tears now streaming down your cheeks. “Please what, baby? Be a good girl and tell me”. Her thumb drew lazy circles around your bundle of nerves, while her fingers inside your walls curled up, meeting that sweet spot of yours that made you see stars.

“Need to come, baby. Need to come so bad. Need you to fuck me senseless. Please Nat, use me, fuck me. I need to come so bad. Baby please…”, you whimpered.  

“Fucking good girl”, Nat praised, immediately speeding her fingers up. “There you go, pretty girl. Fuck my fingers, make yourself come on me. Doing so good, baby”.

Her other hand went to your lower stomach, softly pressing her hand on it , while your hips bucked uncontrollably, as your moans grew loud enough to be heard two floors above. Not that you would care.

“So wet, honey. Make a fucking mess on me, want your juices dripping down my hand. You want to come, baby?” her question was met with an eager nod by yours.

Nats smile grew wider as her movements suddenly stopped, seeing that frustrated look in your eyes. “Told you baby, I need your words. Y’wanna come? Then tell me exactly how, and I will give it to you. I promise”.

You let out a frustrated sigh, trying to get some friction by pressing your sighs together. You were obscenely wet, your juices dripping down your legs, the need to come feels so overwhelming you thought you might pass out.

“I need your mouth on me. Please give me your mouth. Need you so bad to suck on my clit, Natasha. Need you so bad to fuck me with your tongue. Need to make a mess on that pretty face of yours, need it to be soaked with my release. Please make me come, Lieutenant”.

Knowing exactly what you did by using your girlfriends rank, you see her her pupils blow until her eyes seemed black while she lowered herself between your legs.

“So proud of you, baby”, she cooed breathing teasingly on your sensitive clit. When she finally lowered her mouth on you, it felt like heaven opened its doors and it took everything of you to not come at this exact moment, knowing it would cost you later.

Your hand went into Nats dark length, harshly tucking when she scrabbed her teeth slightly on your swollen bundle. “Fuck Nate, s’good…. Jesus Christ”, you screamed when you felt her tongue slipping into your entrance, immediately clenching your walls. Her thumb went back to your clit, meeting the same pace as her tongue inside you.

“Please let me cum, Lieutenant. Need it so bad. Please can I cum?”, you whimpered, feeling hot sweat running down your forehead.

“Cum for me, gorgeous. Make a mess on my face. Need to taste you on my tongue so bad”, she encouraged you while her tongue found her way back to your clit, her fingers meeting your sweet spot inside.

Your orgasm washed over you, world shatteringly, your eyesight went blank for a second while your hips bucked into Nats face, while she worked you through your high.

After you caught your breath and opened your eyes again, you saw your girlfriend hovering above you, smiling at you softly.

“I will never get tired of how beautiful you look when you cum”, she said lovingly, capturing your cheek with her hand.

You lift your body from the mattress, meeting your girlfriend halfway in a passionate kiss. Your hand ghosted its way over Nats beautiful curves before it stilled on her dripping pussy.

Now it was on you to slide your fingers through her folds, smiling feverishly.

“Your turn, Lieutenant”.

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