#naval radio station

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Invisible Smoke - Three

Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And he finally gets some answers.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader Word Count: 9k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED

A/N: I apologize for the delay and thank you all so much for the love on the last chapter. Life has been a little overwhelming lately. Work has been hectic and I had a close family member pass away. I am hoping to come up for air soon. Thank you for your patience. And I do feel the need to reiterate that I DO NOT keep a tag list. Sorry!

Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, themes of stalking, cursing, mentions of bodily harm/injury, domestic abuse, and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

What could you possibly say? The truth was out of the question, at least the entirety of it was. You couldn't and wouldn’t drag him into this more than he already was. Jake deserved better than being wrapped up in your mess. “I got caught up in something above my paygrade a few years ago. Thought I had left it in the past. I’ll take care of it.” You took the Polaroid from his hand and threw it into the footwell in front of you before making sure to press your shoe over it.

Jake was quiet as he started your car and pulled out of the lot, turning toward the direction of your little bungalow. Maybe you should have been surprised he knew the way—he’d only come over with the rest of the Daggers twice and Bradley had been driving—but for some reason it just made sense. Of course Jake would know. His jaw was shut tight, you could see the tendons working as his teeth ground together. But just as quickly as you noticed it, he relaxed. But he didn’t move to turn the radio to a different station or raise the volume. He just kept driving.

The rollercoaster of emotions you’d just endured had you sagging in your seat. While your tears had slowed to a leaky trickle, they didn’t stop. And you wanted to scream, to rage at the cruelty of it all, but mostly what you wanted to do was crawl into bed after making sure your door and windows were locked.

He’d ruined your night. He had somehow found out you were going to the Hard Deck and had purposefully planted that picture. You were almost surprised that he hadn’t slashed your tires when he had the chance, too.

But it mattered little when Jake pulled into your driveway and handed you your keys after shutting off your car. He followed you up to the small, stone stoop and waited until you waved him in to step inside. You felt his eyes on you as you turned the locks on your door and then double-checked the one on the handle before you wiped at your face. Mascara and foundation smeared against your hand and you grimaced as you noticed it. Fantastic.

“Do you want a drink or something? I’m going to call you an Uber but before then? I have tea, water, and soda I know you won’t drink. I don’t keep alcohol in the house, sorry.” You were rambling, you knew that. But did you stop? No. “I can also order something for delivery, if you want.” You sniffled and tried to resist the urge to wipe at your face again.

Jake’s shoulders rolled as if he were trying to shake off a bug before he shook his head. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed, Punch? I’ll wait out here.”

That sounded like he was staying. And, really, you knew you should be shoving him out the door and into an Uber you knew would take him back to his car and far away from you and the disaster that was your life. But you still nodded, trying to ignore how you liked knowing he’d just be in the living room, waiting. “Feel free to snoop,” you said, retreating down the hall.

“I’m not going to snoop!”

“Yes, you are.”

**

And then, as soon as Jake heard your bedroom door close, he started to snoop. He did have your permission anyway and that half-assed answer you gave him wasn’t sitting right in his gut. Your little house was neat, if not in need of a bit of dusting. Art prints in soft greens and light yellows were hung in straight lines with personal photographs, in smaller silver frames, dotted between. A bookshelf took up an entire wall and was organized by last name…except for the bottom shelf that was mostly empty with just a small stack of lilac spines and silver lettering. Jake bent to get a better look but paused, spotting two large but thin frames tucked behind the bookcase. He tugged one out and saw that it was your undergraduate degree from some university up the coast. The next frame held your Masters Degree. Both were covered in dust and forgotten about. Almost like you had purposefully shoved them away. Carefully, Jake put them back and tried not to think about why you wouldn’t want them displayed, and instead grabbed one of the lilac books. It didn’t have a traditional cover, just the title: Sunlight Filtered Through Champagne. Below it was a small sticker with “ARC” typed out in bold white letters. Turning the book to look at its spine, the author’s name now accompanied the title: Georgia Torrance. There was a small note sticking out of the top and Jake slowly pulled it out to look at. Thought you may want it in your hands! Can’t wait to see what you come up with next! What did that mean?

When he heard your door open again, he was quick to put the note and book back and stand straight, trying to make it look like he was just looking at the thriller paperbacks on the shelf at his eyeline. It looked like you had a grading system on the shelf, too, scribbled on a small post-it note, denoting happy endings and not-so-happy endings. There was also a note to donate all of the not-so-happy ending books.

It was like you needed hope that a bad situation could end on a good note. And then there were all the locks on your door. The handle of a baseball bat was sticking out from under your little couch. Your curtains were not open when you arrived. You couldn’t read thrillers that ended badly because you were living in a fucked up one yourself, weren’t you?

“I got caught up in something above my paygrade.”

The words didn’t sit right with him. This wasn’t some sort of government cover up. This wasn’t a case of you seeing something you shouldn’t have. The note had been too familiar and the photo had been too intimate.

“You look like you’re trying to think,” you said.

Jake turned and almost swallowed his tongue as he looked at you. You’d switched out your sundress for tiny shorts and socks that went up to your thighs. A baggy Navy t-shirt nearly covered your shorts. You looked so soft, so comfortable even with your eyes still a little swollen from your earlier tears. And it twisted at something warm behind his ribs.

“Careful, you might pull something if you try too hard.” The insult was lacking its usual heat but Jake hardly noticed. Something else had gained his attention. A large gnarled scar was peeking out from under your shorts on your left leg. It reached halfway down your thigh and Jake couldn’t see how high up it went. Whatever had happened, it looked like it had hurt immensely. Then he remembered how the slits in your dresses were always on your right side. Your shorts, while tight, always reached your knees. You had been hiding it.

Who had hurt you?

He must have been staring too long because you angled your body away from him and cleared your throat. “I’m gonna call you an Uber. Sorry for my freak out earlier. You coulda been home and asleep by now. Or picking up someone at the Hard Deck. God, I really fucked up your night.”

You were rambling again. And maybe Jake would have found it endearing in any other circumstance but not when you were twisting your hands into the excess fabric of your shirt and shuffling away from him to grab your phone.

Slowly, as to not startle you, Jake reached out and gently took the phone from your hands and set it on the couch cushion. Your face scrunched with your confusion and the divot between your eyebrows only deepened when Jake set his hands on your shoulders. “You gonna tell me what actually happened?”

Your features shifted and shuttered, falling into the casual annoyance you usually wore around him. “I told you-”

“Yeah, you told me something. Now tell me the truth. I was in that car with you tonight, Punch. I saw how scared you were. A picture had you just as scared as nearly getting run off the highway. Tell me what is going on, please.”

Your jaw clenched and you wiggled out from under Jake’s grip. “So you’re calling me a liar now?”

“No! I just-”

“I’m sorry you got pulled into this, okay? I am. I never should have brought you to the party. You never should’ve been in the car.”

You weren’t getting it. He needed you to understand. “I’m glad I was with you! I’m glad you had me with you—but you can’t just tell me that you have it handled or brush it off because-”

“I’m not brushing anything off!” You snarled. “Stop trying to play hero!”

It may have been easier if you had just slapped him. Was that how you saw him? “I’m not playing at anything. But I can’t help you if you won’t let me try.”

The glint in your eyes was near murderous. Jake had only ever seen you look like this once before and it had been when some asshole had yanked on Penny’s arm at the Hard Deck. “Just stop! I-”

“I know something is going on. You can’t convince me otherwise, all right? My mama always said that if you smell smoke, it’s ‘cause there’s a fire.”

You wiped a hand over your eyes and Jake hated how he noticed your chin wobbling. “Your stupid southern colloquialisms do not apply to this situation. There is no smoke!”

Jake stepped forward again and peeled your hand away from your face, sighing as he saw fresh tears lining your lashes. He never wanted to make you cry. Not ever. “There is smoke. And I want to help you. Let me help you.”

You sniffled and looked away from him again but didn’t pull your hands out of his grip. “I don’t fucking understand this metaphor. A-and I don’t want to tell you.”

The words cracked in your throat and Jake only squeezed at your hands. He was here for you. Couldn’t you see that?

“Invisible smoke or not, I’m not going to tell you. I’m not.” You shook your head and finally pulled your hands from his and Jake was prepared for you to step back and tell him to leave, to tell him, again, that you had this handled. Instead, your warm palms pressed against his chest and your tear filled gaze locked on his face. His next breath stalled. God, you were beautiful. “I don’t want to be the one to make you look at me differently. Just…just let me have the rest of this night, okay? I’ll text Bradley and tell him that he can tell you. But just let me have this last night where I’m not some stupid, broken girl in your eyes.”

Jake reached up and settled his hands over yours, noticing how goosebumps raced up your arms when his thumbs brushed against your knuckles. “You could never be. You’ll always be Punch.”

You sighed and almost smiled at him before shaking your head, pulling your hands out from under his. “No, I won’t.”

**

You weren’t entirely sure how you managed to convince Jake to watch a movie with you instead of talking or prying more, but you had a bowl of half eaten microwave popcorn between you on the cushions and The Mummy playing on your television.

This wasn’t how you saw this night playing out. Of course, a person could never really fit a car chase and a quick emotional breakdown into their schedule so, perhaps this was the best possible outcome. As Brendan Fraser’s Rick O’Connell gave Evy a pilfered toolkit in the most adorably awkward manner, your gaze drifted over to Jake.

And he was looking right at you.

Shit. Embarrassed heat washed over you and you quickly looked back at the television.

“C’mere.”

“What?” It was barely more than a squeak and you stubbornly refused to move your gaze away from the television again.

“I know you heard me,” Jake repeated, a bit of a laugh cracking his words. “Come here.”

“I’m not a dog, you know,” you bit back before you could think of being polite. Old habits do die hard.

But it seemed like Jake didn’t particularly care, because he moved the popcorn bowl onto your coffee table and then grabbed at your legs, dragging you over to him with a simple tug. The noise that escaped you was a mortifying mix of a squeak and a yelp and you fell forward with the force of it, hands falling against his arm and shoulder awkwardly. His warm, work-rough hands slid up your thighs, skirting over the scar that still left you grimacing even if the pain had faded years ago, and settled on the curve of your waist. Then, with another simple movement, your thighs were bracketing his and he was looking up at you with the stupid, beautiful sea glass eyes. There was something in his gaze you didn’t recognize.

Or maybe you did and you couldn’t voice it.

“What’re you-”

“You look like you needed a hug.”

You arched a brow and ignored the thundering of your heart. How many times had you thought about something like this only to curse your wandering thoughts? “Oh?”

“Yeah. And I’ve been told I give the best hugs.”

Your mouth twisted to the side—you weren’t sure if you were fighting a smile or a snarl. “Who told you that? Which one of your bed warmers-”

The words stalled behind your teeth when Jake leaned up just enough to wrap his arms around you, warm and solid. And you hated that it immediately brought tears to your eyes. God, how long had it been since someone had hugged you like this? Held you like this? You melted into his grasp like butter on hot toast, going slack against him until your forehead rested on the broad expanse of his shoulder. Jake’s movements halted for a moment. And, if you had been anyone else, you might have said you felt his breath catch. But you knew better.

“This means nothing, you know,” you said, one last ditch effort to not let him know how pathetically easy you were enraptured with his easy touch. “I’m withholding my judgment on if you give good hugs or not.”

You heard him smile before his hands continued their smoothing motions up and down your spine. “Okay, Punch.”

You could have argued a little more. Maybe mentioned how he probably needed a hug more than you or how you wouldn’t feel bad when his legs fell asleep under your weight. But you didn’t. You didn’t because you were so comfortable and your favorite movie was playing in the background and Jake’s cologne smelt so good…who could blame you for falling asleep?

**

You snored. Just a little. It honestly reminded him of like…a baby bear for some reason. But maybe you were just extra tired. Jake wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t been sleeping well. Either way, Jake slowly slid one arm beneath your butt and kept the other a little higher on your back and gently lifted you up from the couch; your head lolled to the side and fell against his chest as you let out a heavy breath. Jake pretended not to feel how you rubbed your cheek against him and let out a soft hum. Or maybe he filed that little sound away to think about later. Either way, Jake made his way down the short hallway and pushed open your door with his foot, wincing as its hinges whined.

Your eyes opened the slightest bit as soon as your head hit the pillow and Jake was sure he would never forget the smile you shot at him.

Then he was thinking about waking up every morning to your sleepy, happy smile. He was thinking about carrying you to bed after a long night at the Hard Deck. He was thinking of you. He had always tried to shove those thoughts down. He had tried to ignore them because he knew—he knew—that nothing could come of it. But now he couldn’t. He knew what it was like to hold you in his arms. He could deal with the paperwork, admirals, and ribbing from the Daggers…if it meant he could…well, he’d finish that thought when he knew you were thinking the same thing.

After shutting your door, and making a mental note to pick up some WD-40 for those squeaky hinges, he made his way back to your living room. He picked up the popcorn bowl and washed it out and then straightened the cushions, just like his mama taught him to do. The movie finished as Jake sat on your couch and dug his phone out of his pocket. It was well past one in the morning but he still pulled up Bradshaw’s contact and typed out a message. We need to talk.

He’d probably hear from him in the mor-

His phone beeped with a new message and he was quick to click on the thread. I’m on my way.

Wasn’t he supposed to be out in the desert with Maverick? What did he mean he was on his way?

Apparently Rooster was also psychic because another message came through. Cut trip short. Will be at her house in an hour.

So, Jake waited. He played a stupid game on his phone to pass the time and made sure it was muted so it wouldn’t wake you up. Every time he heard a car pass by, he checked the window. He needed to make sure it wasn’t the charger again and he wanted to meet Bradley at the door so you wouldn’t wake up when he knocked. Five more rounds of the mindless game on his phone and then he was standing up again, and watching a familiar Bronco pull onto your driveway behind your car. He was surprised to see Maverick exit the passenger side but waved them both in when they approached the door.

“Where is she?” Bradshaw asked instead of a greeting.

“She’s asleep,” Jake hissed. “Keep your voice down.”

“Have you checked all the windows?” Maverick asked, voice thankfully at the correct decibel.

“A couple times,” Jake said. Maverick knew too? Was he the only one that didn’t know what you were hiding? “Are either of you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Maverick looked at Rooster but Rooster was looking right at Jake, mouth set in a firm line beneath his ridiculous mustache. “I gotta see her first. All right? We’ll stay with her for the rest of the night.”

That just about crawled all over Jake. He was just going to shove him out? After everything that’s happened tonight? “No. No, this is fucking ridiculous. Tell me-”

“Seresin,” Maverick cut in. “You’ve had a long night. Why don’t you head back to base and get some sleep?”

“I-”

“That’s an order, Lieutenant Commander.”

That simple phrase repeated in his head as he sat in the back of the Uber headed toward the Hard Deck, and when he drove himself home, and as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. That’s an order, Lieutenant Commander. What it actually was, was insulting. But he did as he was ordered, knowing that Mav and Rooster were trying to take care of you (and Maverick did have the authority to have him brought up in front of the brass)…but why didn’t they see that Jake was trying to help, too? As he stewed, his phone chirped with a notification from his sister, Mia. It was a picture of her sitting out on a familiar porch swing, the Texas night sky on display over her head as she smiled at the camera. She was holding up a cup—Jake knew it was probably filled with her favorite chamomile blend from a shop a few towns over from the family ranch. Hope you’re getting more sleep than me!

Jake sighed for the umpteenth time. Mia’s ex-husband, a man named Ryan who Jake had never liked, had up and left her for a coworker. She was understandably heartbroken and then when she discovered that Ryan had a child on the way with his mistress while Mia had been struggling to have a baby, she had been near inconsolable. It had taken her nearly a week for Jake and his sisters and mom to get Mia out of bed. It had been slow going to help her get back on her feet, even after the lawyer his mom hired managed to get Mia all of the marital assets and half of Ryan’s monetary savings alongside a hefty alimony. Mia had always been the strongest of his sisters, an older sister to the core, who had truly stepped up when their father had stepped out on their mother. It had been a cruel twist of fate that Mia’s marriage had turned out to mirror their mother’s so closely. Jake spoke with each of his sisters at least once a week, mostly just making sure they were doing okay and to lessen the bit of guilt he had for leaving Texas and them in the rear view when he joined the Navy. After tonight, he could use a little talk with his sister.

Jake hit the small phone icon beneath her name and it rang twice before she picked up. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up with my text.”

“I was awake.”

“What’re you doing up right now?” She grumbled.

“Had a long night.” That was putting it lightly.

“I thought you were going out with that girl, Punch? Not the girl of your dreams anymore?”

Jake bit back the groan he felt rising in his throat. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t need to. You’re my baby brother and I know you. She a bad kisser or something?”

“We are not in high school and I’m not having this conversation with you,” he grumbled, feeling heat start to flood his face.

Thankfully or not, there was a strange fluttering sound on the other end of the line, followed by a muttered, “shit!”

“Everything okay?” Ryan had shown up at the ranch Mia and their mother now shared more than once, raging about the divorce decree and/or asking for a second chance in the next breath.

“Yeah, just dropped my book.” There was a long sigh and Jake imagined her settling back down onto the well worn cushion in the swing.

“What’re you reading?”

“A book.”

He rolled his eyes but felt a smile pushing at his mouth. She could always make him laugh. “Mia.”

“Jacob.” She snickered before continuing. “The author’s name is Georgia Torrance. She writes romances and if you judge me I’ll figure out a way to get your superiors to ground you from flying for, like, three days at least.”

Jake’s smile widened the slightest bit before something clicked. Georgia Torrance. That was the name on the strange books in your home. Can’t wait to see what you come up with next! You had written them, hadn’t you? Under a fake name, sure, but that was you.

If this were any other situation, Jake would drive back to you and simply ask if had a second job as a writer but he’d been banished from your house by his superior officer. So, he’d just bide his time with that, too, he guessed.

“I think I’ve heard of her. She has a few books, right?”

His sister giggled down the line. “Oh, they’re some of my favorites. Me and a few of the other girls have been getting together, like a book club, to read them. It’s fun.”

Jake smiled. She was doing okay, leaning on her friends. “You like those scandalous books, Mia? Gram would be mortified.”

Mia hushed him, but another giggle softened the blow. “They’re a great escape from the shitstorm of my life right now. Don’t judge me. They really are well written! And they’re so soft, Jake! Like, you can tell the characters actually care about each other.” There was a wistful sigh on the other end. “And she does this thing in all of her books.”

“Thing?”

“Yeah, the hero in some fashion or way, always ends up carrying the heroine to bed. Just to sleep. It is in all of her books. It’s her thing. Her trope, or whatever. It is so romantic.”

The sleepy, happy smile you’d given him flashed in his mind and the smallest bit of tension released in his chest. He had made you smile while doing something you, apparently, thought was romantic.

“Are you okay?” Mia asked, pulling Jake from his reverie.

His answering sigh crackled over the phone and he thought of your smile again. “Don’t worry about me.”

**

Someone was sitting on your bed. You had the vague realization of the weight as you teetered between sleep and wakefulness. “Jake?”

“‘s me, Punch.”

You smacked yourself in the face while attempting to wipe the sleep from your eyes. “Bradley? Aren’t you still supposed to be out in the desert with Captain Mitchell?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “But my favorite mechanic was apparently auditioning for the Fast and the Furious and we cut the trip short.”

Even in the dark of your room, you could see Bradley smile. “You hate those movies,” you said, hating how your voice started to quake. Hadn’t you cried enough?

“I do. Now, are you gonna tell me what happened? And why fucking Hangman was acting like your guard dog?”

Heat dragged up your neck and you were thankful for the dark of your room so Bradley wouldn’t see you almost smile into your pillow. “Is he still out in the living room?” He’d stayed for you.

“Mav sent him home. Wanted me to tell him everything the second we got in.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Bradley sighed again and his warm hand landed softly on your arm. He squeezed it gently. “Had to make sure you were okay first. You will always be the priority.”

“I shouldn’t be,” you muttered. “God, I’m not worth any of this. You should have seen him tonight, Bradley. He just wouldn’t stop. It was a goddamn miracle I was able to get us out of that without totaling my car. And Jake was just…” Traitorous tears stung at your eyes but you let them fall because Bradley had seen you battered and bloody; he could withstand your tears. “Jake was so nice to me. Patient. He doesn’t deserve to be wrapped up in this. None of you do.”

“Hey,” Bradley started, whispered tone bordering on disappointed. “Stop saying shit like that. I’ve told you this a thousand times: you are worth everything. You deserve better than the shitty hand you were dealt. And remember whose dumbass started all this? Me. It was me.”

“It wasn’t you though,” you said, trying to breathe through the tears still trying to choke you.

But Bradley said nothing else but moved a little closer to you on the bed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You weren’t entirely sure when you fell back asleep but you woke a few hours later with the first rays of daylight peeking through your curtains. It felt like you’d inhaled brick dust after being battered with said brick. Embarrassment was gnawing on your ribs as you rolled out from under your tangled blankets and set your feet on the floor. Everything had gone off the metaphorical rails last night. And a part of you ached at the thought of not having Jake around, even on the periphery, because you knew he would want nothing to do with you after he knew.

You stretched, hearing your back crack, and padded out toward the kitchen where you’d bet Bradley was waiting. And, yep, he was leaning against your counter, sipping on coffee you only kept in the house for him. His hazel eyes looked you over before he set down the mug, porcelain clacking against the linoleum. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit. Where’s Captain Mitchell?” You asked as you stepped into the kitchen, too, intent on getting to the lemon poppy seed muffins you saw sitting on the counter. Bradley’s hand slowly raising to block your path had you whining. “Why are you being me to me? I am in need of food.”

“You’re a brat,” he said with absolutely no heat. “And how many times has Mav said you could call him Pete when we aren’t on base?” He grabbed one of the muffins and shoved it at you. A few crumbs fell to your kitchen floor and you knew you’d have to sweep later. But not now. You took a large bite and almost moaned at the taste of it and continued to ignore Bradley’s question. Maverick was your superior. That was it. Keeping people at arm’s length kept them safe—well, you knew that he knew about your predicament but that didn’t mean he needed to be tangled up in it, too. “He picked those up for you this morning before he went to Penny’s for breakfast. Said Ice mentioned they were your favorite?”

You nodded and felt your lips curling up in a smile between bites. “He and Sarah took me to the bakery about a week after I got stationed here.” Tom had insisted that the poppy seed muffins were the best he’d ever tasted and after one bite, you agreed.

Bradley reached for one and hummed after he took a bite, nodding before taking another.

You two ate in silence for a little longer before Bradley, with his stupid baby cow hazel eyes, looked at you again. “What?”

“I checked the house over. It looks like nothing’s been messed with. But why don’t you come stay with me-”

“No.”

Bradley looked like he was trying not to sigh. “Punch, c’mon. It’ll just be until-”

“Until what, Bradley? I can handle this. He…he’ll probably disappear again and we can just forget this ever happened.”

“He tried to run you and Seresin off the road, Punch. Let me help.”

“You already did! You brought me muffins and checked out my house after staying the night when you should’ve been out in the desert and working on Mav’s plane. And that’s just today. You have done enough.”

Bradley’s eyes narrowed as he shoved the rest of the muffin into his mouth—which was ridiculous! He wasn’t even savoring it!—before sighing. “Fine. But you call me if you need anything, okay? Or Bob.” He then paused and you hated how his brow arched. That always meant he was going to say something he thought was clever but was actually stupid. “Or you could call Hangman.”

Embarrassed heat started to claw at your neck and you tried to ignore it and the knowing look in Bradley’s eyes. “You’re being mean.”

“You are asking me to tell him what the hell you have lurking in the shadows-”

“Don’t say lurking in the shadows. We aren’t in a horror movie.”

“-and you still refuse to see how much that guy is in love with you?”

The heat was now scalding and you were sure that your internal temperature had risen a few degrees, too. “Ken isn’t in love with me.”

“And you’re in love with him.”

Were you in love with Jake? No. That couldn’t be possible because, after everything, you knew that being in love and being loved just wasn’t in the cards for you. And the Navy would never allow it. And Jake was…Jake was your friend. And so far out of your league it was ridiculous. You weren’t his type anyway. And you didn’t have a type but if you did it would probably be…Jake. But you didn’t have time to think about that now because there was a tight feeling in your chest and your eyes were watering again and you knew that you were actually…probably…definitely…pathetically in love with Jake Seresin. Shit.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter if I am or not. None of that matters,” you bit out as you blinked back the tears. “Also, when are you going to tell Natasha how you feel?”

Just as you anticipated, Bradley’s cheeks filled with pink and it was his turn to look away. “I’ve got a plan,” he muttered.

The smallest bit of tension slipped from your spine as you realized your diversion had worked, at least marginally. Bradley did have a bad habit of jumping back to conversations you had thought you had moved on from. Oh well. “So you’re not denying it anymore? No more ‘we’re just friends’ or ‘you’re reading into it,’ now?”

The pink in his cheeks grew darker as he reached out to lightly flick at your arm. “I guess.”

Well, at least you had this small victory. And god knows he had been ignoring his feelings for Natasha for years. You surely hadn’t been the only one to notice; Natasha was just as far gone for Bradley but she at least hid it better. You were sure only you and Bob knew about her feelings. “If I were mean, I’d make you tell me your plan. But I am feeling charitable today and will just wish you the best.”

“You’re such a brat.” He pulled you into a hug and sponged a loud kiss onto your forehead before stepping back. After you told him to go home and actually rest, that you’d be fine for the rest of the weekend, and Bradley once again telling you to call him if you needed anything, he left with a final, “lock your door!” thrown over his shoulder.

And then you were alone again. Your heart gave a startled leap when you heard a car door slam a few moments later but you heard your neighbor’s squeaky front door open and close and pushed out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Great. You eventually swept the kitchen floors and double checked the windows before making the short trek out to your mailbox to check the mail. You stepped back inside and engaged all the locks before sorting through the small stack of envelopes and advertisements. Most were junk and quickly shredded and then put in the recycling bin. You smiled as you recognized your sister’s handwriting across one of the envelopes. Georgie still maintained that you should FaceTime every other week but her letters were a more frequent occurrence. This one was filled with details about her pregnancy and how her husband is being adorable about setting up everything in the nursery. She asked about your job and if you had any suggestions about what to get for your brother, Danny, for his upcoming birthday. You set the letter aside to flip through the rest of the stack but your heart fell to your feet when you saw the last thing in your hand.

It was another goddamn Polaroid. And part of you wished that it had just been you. Just you trapped in that white box. But no. It was Jake. Just Jake. It was him walking out to your car while you’d still been parked at the Hard Deck last night. Poorly drawn blood was bisecting his neck—it was supposed to look like his throat had been slashed, you assumed. It was a shitty drawing but it got the point across.

He could hurt Jake. He could hurt Jake simply because he was near you.

And you wouldn’t ever let that happen. There’d never been a threat like this before—Bradley and Bob never received one and you had been given no threats for them, either. So, it was just Jake. Just your Ken. You needed to keep him safe. Even if it cracked at something behind your ribs.

With all the subtlety of a freight train, you started avoiding him at work. If he walked in a room, you’d walk out. You bribed other ADs to be the ones to handle Jake’s jet. You didn’t go to the Hard Deck if you knew he was going to be there—which was more often than not. You ignored him whenever he called your name. It created a strange waiting game—you wouldn’t have been surprised if you had been called into Admiral Simpson’s office and reprimanded for disrespecting a superior officer. But weeks trickled by and nothing happened except Captain Mitchell giving you a disappointed look and Natasha asking if you and Jake hooked up and if it was bad enough for you to avoid him. After explaining that there was definitely not a hookup (true) and you definitely weren’t avoiding him (lie), you let yourself believe that you had managed to ghost him enough to keep him safe. When you received another Polaroid of you and Jake from the night of Junior’s party with Jake’s face scratched out and the words “I knew he couldn’t handle you” scrawled across the bottom, you knew you’d made the right choice. Then the next note, a singular scrap of paper tucked into the crease between your front door and its frame, read “all alone again? you never know how to treat them!,” your resolve only strengthened.

He could think you hated him forever as long as he was safe.

You could watch him flirt with every beautiful woman who looked in his direction and ignore how your entire body flinched at the sight as long as he was safe.

He just needed to be safe.

**

It had been three weeks since you had fallen asleep in Jake’s arms. And three weeks since you’d spared him more than a side-eyed glance. Rooster had been acting strange, too. While the other pilot hadn’t been avoiding him exactly, Rooster had volunteered to help Mav with the current Top Gun class and had been squirreled away in his office or in the classroom when not in the air. And while Jake could have metaphorically cornered Rooster by asking him over the comms, he wouldn’t ever bring up your name like that when other people were listening. So, when Maverick decided that the newest class needed to be introduced to Dog Fight Football after three pilots got into a screaming match and nearly collided with Phoenix and Bob during a dogfight simulation, he knew this was an opening he needed to take.

In passing, Jake also took the opportunity to ask if the support crew would be invited and earned an unimpressed look coupled with a, “they have been told that they are encouraged and welcome to come, Seresin.” Jake didn’t even care that Mav probably (definitely) knew what he was really asking because he overheard you telling Fanboy that you’d be there because Penny wanted someone to sit with. Perfect.

And you looked perfect when he saw you the next morning. Sitting on a low rise sun chair with Penny at your side and your toes buried in the sand, you had on that pair of shorts Jake dreamed about and a loose fitting shirt with the Dagger Squadron emblem over your heart. You were beautiful. He wasn’t going to shy away from it any more. No more using ‘special’ to hide everything else he wanted to feel. You were beautiful.

Now, Jake knew he was good looking. There was no arguing that. So, why not use it to his advantage? He strode up to you and watched as you looked at him over the edge of your sunglasses. And your face revealed nothing. You were a stone wall when you craned your neck to look up at him but he was undeterred.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Punch.” He then grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off, dropping it onto your lap as he subtly flexed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you hold that for me?”

You seemed to freeze for a moment before grabbing the shirt and neatly folding it. “Sure.” Then you leaned to the side, completely ignoring him, and shouted, “Bradley! Give me your shirt before it gets wet!” Rooster’s shirt eventually turned into Javy’s shirt, Phoenix’s shirt, and Payback’s shirt, and then you made sure that Bob had enough sunscreen on. And Jake watched all of it happen, little more than another bit of sand on your periphery. Just as he was about to call it quits on this attempt, you called out to him. He turned to you to see you looking at him over the edge of your sunglasses again. “Pull up your shorts. You’re about to give everyone a show.”

Penny let out a choked laugh that she tried to hide behind her hand before Jake tugged at the waistband of his shorts, moving them up marginally.

“There you go, Ken. Now you’re almost suitable for public consumption.”

“I prefer private consumption, Punch.” Jake winked at Penny when she laughed again before turning his attention back to you. “I could give you a free preview after we show these kids how to play nicely with each other.”

Jake watched you roll your lips into your mouth before you turned your head away as you pretended (he was sure!) to straighten the small stack of shirts you had collected. “That’s inappropriate. And you of all people don’t know how to play nicely.”

“Oh, Punch,” Jake said, letting as much of his Texan twang seep into his tone as possible when he leaned down to make sure you could look him in the eye (or ogle him correctly). “I play very nicely.”

You licked your lips and looked away but Jake saw your throat bob. “Make sure to tackle Royal into the sand,” you said, mentioning one of the Top Gun pilots who had been involved in the screaming match. “He’s been acting up with the other ADs.”

Well, that was a start. Maybe. “You got it, Punch.”

Then, forty-two seconds into the game, Jake did just that. He looked back at you to see you hiding a laugh behind your hands while Penny roared beside you as Royal yelled about getting sand in his mouth.

The game continued and the grumpy group of pilots eventually started to get along–not as well as the Dagger Squad, but they were something special. Maverick seemed to agree with the exasperated look he shared with Jake and Rooster when they finally called it a day. Penny invited them all up to the Hard Deck for a drink and that seemed to smooth the rest of the rough edges this group came in with, or at least most of them. Maverick bought the first round but Jake was quick to buy another for the Dagger Squadron when that was quickly drained. And, because he was definitely trying to track you through the steadily growing crowd (covertly), Jake spotted you at one of the hightops outside on the deck. Bob and Phoenix were with you, laughing at something you said.

That was the happiest he’d seen you in weeks. Your smile was actually reaching your eyes—your eyes that finally had that light in them that had been missing.

A hand fell onto his shoulder and Jake swung around to see Bradshaw handing him another beer. Even though Jake was less than halfway into the one he already had. “Thanks, man.”

Rooster nodded and took a long pull from his beer before glancing at you, too. He rolled his shoulders before waving his bottle toward the door that led out to the beach. “Let’s talk.” He led Jake onto the sand with quick steps and then stopped just short of the water’s edge.

The other man was quiet for a stretched moment, quiet long enough for Jake to think he wasn’t actually going to say anything but-

“She saved my life.”

Jake tried to process the words before a scratchy “what?” was pulled out of his throat.

Bradshaw took another pull from his beer and then set the empty bottle into the sand by his feet. “The mechanic assigned to me when we were overseas talked a big game—his dad was some big shot who was buddies with the brass at the Pentagon. Name was Luke. He was a shit mechanic, to tell you the truth. Punch would sometimes come in behind him, usually after hours, and double check everything he did. I would talk to her whenever I caught her doing it. She was embarrassed and asked me not to tell anyone and for a few weeks I just didn’t see her, didn’t think anything of it, really. Maybe because I thought she was finally doing something about all the bruising I kept seeing crop on her face. She changed the subject when I asked her once if she was okay.” Jake knew what self-loathing sounded like and right now it was bleeding out of Bradshaw’s every word.

“Then, one day, we get sent out. I run in and half-ass my preflight checks because I was a stupid kid who wanted to make a name for himself. I wasn’t always so careful.” He bared his teeth for a moment. “Stupid. I was so stupid. I’m about to get into the slingshot and she just darts out in front of me, waving her arms and screaming something I can’t hear. She nearly gets taken down by MPs and other officers and I’m fuming, I’m so mad that the rest of my squadron get to go out and I’m grounded by some crazy mechanic.” He shook his head before his hands curled to fists at his sides. “But I’ll never forget how desperate she sounded, screaming that the routine maintenance I would have been needing for the past three weeks hadn’t been done properly. He had been drunk in the hangar. For weeks. When my commander looked my plane over, he said I was lucky I wasn’t sitting in a goddamn body bag. It was a ticking time bomb.”

Jake’s heartbeat was echoing in his ears as he looked at Bradshaw. But more was yet to come.

“I found her trying to hold her leg together just outside the hangar. That asshole took a pair of pliers and…” Rooster’s hand twisted and jerked and Jake could imagine the sharp tool moving like that, moving against you. “He did it just to…just to make her bleed and try to make her apologize for saving my life. One of her eyes was swollen shut and she…” His mouth twisted to the side as if he needed to compose himself before continuing. “She could barely tell me who did it to her before she passed out. Punch was in medical for a week. They wouldn’t let me see her; the only visit I got was from two star who asked what I knew. The next thing I know, she’s been sent back to her shore station and Luke’s disappeared, too. It took me months to learn that all that guy got was a damn Letter of Admonishment and a commercial flight back home.”

“That’s it? That’s all he got?” Rage punctuated each syllable, an unmistakable and inescapable heat starting to burn in his chest.

Rooster scrubbed a hand down his face before continuing. “And what makes it fucking worse is that she was dating him. Dating himand coming to the hangar looking like she’d just gone three rounds with a heavyweight and I didn’t connect the dots until that two star let it slip.”

The rageful heat in Jake’s chest splintered as he thought of you being hurt like that by someone you trusted. How could someone do that to you while claiming to love you? How could anyone do that?

“This was my fault. Mine. She may think it is all hers but if I had asked her just one more time if she needed help, I could have had Luke dishonorably discharged and Punch would be…”

Safe.

Healthy.

Unafraid.

“She was so in love with him and he made her believe he would be the only one who could ever love her. Got it in her mind that no one else would ever lower themselves to love her.”

There was a pointed look shot in his direction that Jake tried to not read too much into (right now).

But Rooster pressed on. “I took a gamble and called Tom…Admiral Kazansky,” he quickly reiterated. “He’d been just about as constant in my life as he could be, you know. Always said I could call if I needed anything. And I just needed her safe.”

The strange look in Rooster’s gaze kept Jake quiet despite the dozens of questions running through his mind.

“He learned what happened and what she did and the next day she gets orders to Hawaii. Then to Kitsap in Washington. The furthest east she got was Fallon in Nevada. She was firmly planted under Kazansky’s oversight. I thought it would keep her safe.”

“But she kept volunteering for deployments,” Jake said after Bradshaw fell into an agitated quiet, like he was searching for words. He didn’t think that your throwaway anecdote from the engagement party would mean this.

“That piece of shit somehow found out where she was going to be at a port call and arrived the day before she was supposed to get back on the carrier. He nearly strangled her to death.”

The murmured stories you had half heartedly given were starting to create a through line. “That was when Bob stepped in. He said they met on deployment.”

Rooster nodded. “Apparently that LoA was to blame for Luke not getting promoted. He blamed her. It didn’t matter that she could have gone in front of the brass and had him court martialed. It didn’t matter that she took money from his just-as-shitty father to keep her quiet. He still saw her as the reason he was given a goddamn slap on the wrist for nearly killing us both. She was still the one that managed to get away. He should be in prison and he was mad about not making rank. Bob was the one who dragged him in front of the brass but that basically amounted to nothing. Again. She refuses to go to the cops because she thinks they’ll just brush it off or cover it up like everyone else does.” He knocked his foot against the empty bottle for a moment before turning to look at you back on the deck. Jake looked, too, seeing you let Phoenix drag you around in a dance. You threw your head back with a laugh as you nearly fell. Bob was cheering you both on. “Kazansky then had her stationed here,” Bradshaw said as they both turned back to look at the ocean. “It was a smart move. Kept her safe. The pilots never stayed but the ADs rarely rotated out. She saw it as a glass half full type of situation—she was trusted with the planes of the best pilots in the Navy but she wouldn’t have the opportunity to deploy as often, if at all. I’m pretty sure Kazansky had Luke shadowbanned from any of the stations he oversaw.”

But now Admiral Kazansky was dead, that was unspoken.

“And now Luke’s back.” The words sounded muffled to Jake’s ears as he said them. His heart thudded against his ribs as his stomach twisted. Luke was back. You were in danger. There was no denying it now.

“He is. And she seems to think that you’ve gained that douchebag’s attention and she just wants to keep you safe,” Bradshaw continued, an edge of exasperation starting to soak each syllable. “You are both so fucking stupid-”

“Hey.”

“-but I need you to help keep her safe, yeah? She’s going to fight you on it. Even more than she has already. But-”

“I’ll do it.” The words punched out of Jake with his next breath. And he meant it. “Whatever you think I need to do, I’ll do it.”

His wingman almost smiled at that. Almost. But he shook his head instead. “Seresin-”

“Punch?”

Both Jake and Bradshaw whipped their heads around back to look at the deck.

“Punch?!” Phoenix was leaning over the railing to crane her neck to the side in search of you, presumably. Bob was doing the same in the opposite direction but his face was scrunched in something almost like fear. “Punch?”

You appeared around the corner, balancing a tray of new drinks for your little group. Both Phoenix and Bob’s faces relaxed as they took the offered drinks, each kissing your cheek in thanks. As you set the tray down and said something to them Jake couldn’t hear before you turned just enough to see Jake looking at you. The carefree smile on your face faded as you glanced at Rooster at his side. You knew he had been told. Your chin tucked to your chest before you abruptly turned back to your other friends.

You truly thought he wouldn’t still want you?

That rage returned, burning behind Jake’s ribs. Not at you. Never at you. At Luke who had beaten you down physically and emotionally hard enough for you to believe that no one would love you.

But Jake was here. He would always be here. Waiting for you.

A/N: thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!

[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

Neither tagging nor tagged by anyone in particular

[gigisimsonmars]

Reunions

Jake Seresin x F!Reader. This is my first fic, so please be nice! Dedicated to @sebsxphia - so proud of you! Thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse for reading this over. Tagging a few people who might be interested: @blue-aconite @anniesocsandgeneralstore @wildbornsiren @seresinhangmanjake @callsignvalley @theharddeck

Warnings: pregnancy scare, situationships, anxiety.

You stand on your tip-toes, peering around the heads of the people in front of you on the dock, trying to get a glimpse of the gangway. Jake will be in his camo uniform, blending into the crowd of sailors walking off the carrier. The sun is so bright, the wind blowing the sea air off the water and mixing with the smells of the crowd around you. You feel a little nauseous. You haven’t seen him in three months.

An excited little girl knocks into you, hopping up and down, tugging on her father’s hand. “Mommy! Can you see Mommy?” Her father is smiling, even as the lines of exhaustion from the past few months carve down his cheeks. “She’s almost here, baby.” You stare a little too long. The noise of the crowd, the pressure of the bodies around you, the light, it’s all pressing down on you. You’re a little lightheaded. You look again at the gangway but can’t pick Jake out.

You’re staring at a family reunion, parents clutching their gangly son – do they really let kids join this young? He looks sixteen – when Jake finds you.

He looks perfect, bronzed by the sun, sea glass eyes full of light. He asked you to come get him, and he emailed you every week while he was away and called twice, and he calls you sweetheart -  

“Sweetheart, you okay?” He’s been speaking. You should have been listening. You missed his first words to you.

“I-,” the words aren’t coming. Jake looks at you a moment, carefully.

“Too much noise?” he asks gently, so gently that it’s out of place in this boisterous scene. You nod, still unable to call up your voice.

“C’mon, let’s blow this popsicle stand.” He slings his arm around your waist and leads you back to the parking lot. Opens the passenger door for you, closes it gently. Slings his seabag into the trunk and comes around, settles into the driver’s seat.

You fold your hands tightly in your lap, braced against your stomach. It’s an old habit, to make yourself smaller. You haven’t been this tense around him since he drove you home after your fifth date.

Jake starts the car. The radio station you had on starts to play. He glances over at you as the old Garth Brooks song fills the car. You started listening to music like this with him, and kept listening when he left you. You’re pretty sure that George Strait will be in your Spotify Top 5 list this year.

The two of you head back to your place. Jake’s has been shut up for weeks, though you’ve been keeping an eye on it. He likes yours better anyway. You have soft pillows and pretty art posters on the walls, and a spice rack that you actually use. He complains that your couch isn’t big enough for a six foot naval aviator and his girl (your stomach flips again remembering when he said that), but you’ve managed okay.

Jake pulls into the apartment parking lot. There’s always a spot open for golden boy somehow, even though you usually have to circle around a couple of times and park in the back. He gets out, gets his bag, opens your door and takes your hand. You walk into the building together, take off your shoes together, bumping into each other in the small entryway to your place. You go into the living room and sit on the couch. You still haven’t spoken.

Jake joins you after he goes to the bathroom. He must have splashed water on his face, you can see the droplets on his collar. He’s tense now, too, you can tell.

“I thought I was pregnant.”

The words fall like a stone into water. His eyes widen, and drop to your flat stomach. Your hands are braced there again. You’d only been seeing him for two months before he left.

“I wasn’t – I’ve never skipped a period before, so I thought maybe – but it was probably just stress.” Stress from work, stress from family, stress from your maybe-boyfriend going to sea for three months, whatever.

But that week when you thought maybe? You’d thought about children as a hazy, dreamy someday. But this was real. You could have really had a baby – a sweet-faced baby with a round tummy and big green eyes. You could have made room in your apartment, changed your work schedule, spent Saturday mornings at the library story hour instead of sleeping off Friday night. You could have had a baby with a man who didn’t love you and probably didn’t even want to be a father.

Jake sucks in a deep breath, then exhales. “Sweetheart…” he clearly doesn’t know what to say. You’ve dropped this on him with no warning.

You stand up, pace into the kitchen. You consciously tidied up your breakfast dishes this morning even though you usually leave them for after dinner. Jake is fastidious. You run the sponge over the stovetop instead. You can never get all the grease off. Jake can.

You hear him get up and follow you. He’s leaning against the doorframe, you know without looking. You’re throwing off mixed signals, you know that. You’re not angry at him. You want him to touch you again. But you’re afraid of what he’s going to say next. If he says that the two of you weren’t serious, that it was a good thing, that he likes you a lot but he’s not cut out for fatherhood, you will either chuck the sponge straight at his head or splinter all over your kitchen floor.

“Would it have been so bad?”

What.

You spin around and gawk at him.

“I mean, we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months, but I thought you wanted kids?”

What.

“I know we’ve never talked about it but it was pretty obvious when you were playing with Payback’s kid.”

Payback’s kid is adorable. She has the entire Dagger Squad wrapped around her finger. You’re pretty sure that she has never been put down the whole time she’s been in North Island. Right before everyone deployed you all had a picnic on the beach. She was wearing the tiniest sunhat you had ever seen and punched Fanboy with her tiny baby fist when he stopped her from eating sand.

“I – what?”

Jake shifts uncomfortably. You’ve never seen him like this. He’s always so confident and smooth, whether he’s sliding up beside you at the bar or opening a car door for you or carrying you to his bedroom or kissing you goodbye and whispering for you to meet him on the dock when he gets back.

“We would have figured it out.” The light through your window dapples across his face. It must be windy, you can see the branches of the tree moving from their shadows.

You literally had never considered the conversation going this way.

“Unless you didn’t – unless I’m not the one – then I guess –”

“You are.” You didn’t even realize that your mouth had started forming the words until they were out. “I didn’t – we’ve never talked about kids, or exclusivity or anything. I didn’t want to assume…” You know that your eyes are big and hopeful and watery.

Jake’s face relaxed the second you started speaking. He crosses the kitchen to you, takes the sponge from you gently and tosses it in the sink. Blindly you grope for a dishcloth to dry your hands before they come to rest lightly on his shoulders.

“Sweetheart, it’s been you since I dropped you off on your doorstep after our first date.”

Oh. Now you’re crying.

He kisses your cheeks, kisses the tears away, then lightly sets his mouth to yours. It’s the first time in three months. You’ve missed him so, so much. The week you thought you were carrying his child you’d curled yourself around your belly every night, thinking that there was a piece of him in there. It had hurt so much more than you had expected when the test came back negative.

Jake finally pulls away, looks at you with such tenderness.

“You want a baby?”

You nod, shakily. It still feels risky to admit it. Five months together, three of those apart, isn’t long at all.

“You’d better come with me to Texas for Thanksgiving then. My dad says he’ll give me my grandma’s ring whenever I’m ready, but he wants to meet you first.”

You suck in a breath. He’s told his family about you?

“Sweetheart, I like to think I’m pretty good at reading you, but I need to hear the words.”

You tip up your chin a bit. “Oh, was that a proposal?”

He grins down at you, eyes flashing.

“Oh, you’ll know when I propose, sweetheart.”

Your smile matches his.

“I guess you also know what I’ll say, then.”

[usafphantom2]

A "wren" (Women's Royal Naval Service) radio mechanic preparing for a flight to test newly fitted equipment at Royal Naval Air Station Hatston. #WW2 #HISTORY

@RGPoulesson via X

[lonestarflight]

"A radio controlled and unmanned Convair P4Y-2K Privateer taking off from the Chincoteague Naval Air Station at Wallops Island, Virginia. The airplane was sent over the Atlantic Ocean where it was used as a target for the RIM-2 Terrier missiles of USS MISSISSIPPI (AG-128)."

Date: March 23, 1955

Norfolk Public Library: smc_mss0000187_x000085_011

[dancewithdeath11]

When Hangman Met Dolly

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, beefing, sexual themes (no sex tho), some angst but not really, happy ending! Why am doing this to myself, trying second person POV this time around, bit proof read-but also not really. 

Word Count: 10.5K

(sorry I wanted to get as many plot points as I could)

2010

Jeez… This blows. You huff, kicking at the pavement as you lean against the truck that you were planning on commuting to Pensacola in. It was a good fourteen hour drive from Annapolis where you attended the Naval Academy. And– unfortunately –where your junior-turning-senior roommate met her “future pilot”, Jake Seresin. They encountered each other at a bar and he swept her off her feet a few months ago. Unfortunately, you and Jake just graduated.

Which means that you are well on your way out of there to where you’ve coincidentally both been stationed in Pensacola, Florida. She swears up and down he is the love of her life. But you could tell. He’s cocky and self assured, like most of the men that graduate from the Naval Academy. He is gonna end up calling her within the next week and break her heart, telling her that long distance is too hard or something and that it’ll be for the best. 

Glancing up from your beaten shoes you find them eating eachothers faces, her face shining with tears. Murmuring soft promises to each other, an upside down smile on her naive features as he swears to call her all the time. Reaching into the driver's side window, you press the horn for a long moment. Effectively breaking them out of whatever trance, but you add one more for good measure with a smirk. “We’re behind schedule.” You call, making your roommate- well, ex-roommate, whine as she hugs Jake again.

Jake presses more kisses to her lips making you roll your eyes as you climb into the car and make sure to slam the drivers door harder than necessary. It takes a minute but Jake eventually joins you in the car. Your roommates head popping into Jake's window one last time. 

“I’m going to miss you so much…” She swoons, raising a manicured hand to wipe away her tears.

“Me too, baby. I’ll call you when we get down there.” He hums and you have to actively try not rolling your eyes. You reach up and shift the truck into drive, slowly starting to roll forward as she frantically spews out her feelings to Jake, endless I love you’s and call me every day’s. He returns them half-assedly…if that’s even a word? Either way he managed to deliver them that way.

Eventually you roll onto the main road, leaving her on the sidewalk. You hummed as you finally reached the high-way, speeding up to merge with the traffic. “So, what’s the plan, sweetheart?” Jake broke the silence first, reaching to fiddle with the old radio. 

You eyed him for a brief moment before focusing on the road again. “We will be driving through the night. I’ve set up a plan so that we get equal time’s driving and have also looked up stops along the high-way so that we can shift.” You explained proudly, always taking pride in your way to plan ahead of things. But he only scoffed and rolled his eyes at you. “What?”

“Driving schedules? Looking up stops on the high-way? I mean-” 

“It’s a fourteen hour drive, Seresin!” You cut him off with a scoff of your own. Was he really this dense? A single person driving for seven hours is dangerous, so pushing ten or fourteen is just plain stupid.

“That’s a given, honey.” He nods with a laugh. 

“Then surely as a fellow member of the Navy you can see the ethics in having a driving plan for such a long drive!” A pout sets on your lips, brows drawn so tightly together in frustration that there’s a distinguishable crease there even if you’re only in your early 20’s. 

He throws his hands up in surrender with a nod. Silently giving in, you’re both now basking in a semi-awkward silence. Shit… 

Reaching over you flick on the radio. Last thing you were listening to was Dolly Parton. An old cassette you got from your mom to go with your old truck. Taking a deep breath you listen for a moment before reaching up and rolling back the cassette to start from the beginning. After letting it go again, the beat of “9 to 5” filled in the silence of the truck cab. You only lasted a minute before you started singing along under your breath. Hitting every note with ease after listening to this cassette so many times throughout the years. Eventually, a few songs later, Jake opened up his big mouth again. 

You could see him shift his whole body to look at you from where he sat. “You sound beautiful. Almost as good as ol’ Dolly herself.” He drawled, and you could practically hear him smirking as he waited for your reaction. Instead of giving him the reaction he wanted, you just hummed before the chorus came on again and you sang along. A chuckle came from him before he shook his head and shifted back to where he was before. 

========

Shaking your head, Jake laughs in disbelief. “No way are you going for Victor over Rick! You’re choosing a passionless, sex-less relationship? You’re choosing that over the best sex of your life? Because he owns a bar in Casablanca and that’s all he does?” He pulls into the diner parking lot and puts the truck into park. The two of you stop to look at each other as you think it over for a moment. 

“Yeah. Yeah! It’s a matter of sensibility. Victor is the stable choice, and any other woman would say the same.” A smile crept its way onto your lips. Being with Jake was so easy, and he was genuinely a funny guy. Too bad he’s going with your girlfriend right now, you can see the charm she was talking about.

“Oh…I see! I get it now!” He nods, licking his lips as he pushes open his door. Hopping out and slamming it just as I’m getting out as well. 

“What? What are you saying?”

“No, just forget about it.” He shrugged as both of you walked up to the small roadside restaurant. It was cute, but clearly busy. You silently hope that you’ll get in smoothly and get back on the road as soon as possible. 

Frowning you follow him closely up the steps. “No, I wanna know!” He paused as he was pulling open the door. 

“If you’re picking the boring relationship over the best sex of your life. Then that just means that you haven't had good sex.” He shrugged and walked inside, “Two, please.” The waitress nods and directs us to a table. 

But you could not believe that he would say something like that so blatantly. “Excuse me, for the record, I have had plenty of good sex.” You scoff out, without thinking. The once bustling diner fell silent for a moment. Their eyes trained on you in confusion causing you to flush with embarrassment. Taking a deep breath you look down, avoiding their gazes as you go take a seat with Jake. 

“Okay, then who have you had all this–incredible–sex with?” His brows raise as he puts his hands on the table expectantly. 

Your mouth opens to respond without thinking only to shut again. Brows furrowing as you cross your arms and lean back, “I don’t have to tell you, that’s private.” He hums and nods. For some reason that response rubs you wrong. Like he’s telling you straight to your face that he doesn’t believe you. “Barry, Barry Stevenson.” You nod, thinking back to the last romp you had. Was it great, no…But it was still something. 

“Barry? No.” Jake stated as he leaned back in his seat. “No, you did not have great sex with a Barry.” 

What is with this guy?

“And why not? Who are you to say something like that?”

“It’s all in the name,” He rubs his chin, “Barry is not the name of a guy who is good at sex. Barry can help you with your finances. But he isn’t good at sex. I mean, come on! ‘Give it to me, Barry.’ ‘Ride me, Barry.’” With his brows raised, a smirk comes onto his thin lips. Cocky as ever as he shrugs his shoulders. Head tilted back, a sigh leaves your lips. I still have another eight hours with this guy…You think to yourself. Luckily the moment is saved as a waitress comes over asking for our order. “Yeah, I’ll have a number three, thanks.”

“Uhmm, can I have a cheeseburger? Everything on it. And can you please put the pickles on the side, and no tomatoes. Then I’d like a blackberry pie, heated up with ice cream on the side, not on top. And if you have chocolate can I have that instead of vanilla? Then whipped cream on top, but only if it's real. If it’s from the can, I don’t want it. Please and thank you…” You glanced up at the waitress again, she gave a slightly confused look before nodding and writing it down. 

A small chuckle left her as she got ready to leave. “Whatever you say,” She said to me as she pocketed her notepad. Then she spared a look to Jake, “You, mister, got yourself a handful.” She laughed, making him laugh along as she left. 

“Okay…” He laughed before turning serious again and looked back at you. “What the heck was that?” 

Your brows creased together, “What?” 

“The on the side and only ifs or whatever!” He shook his head as he vaguely gestured behind him. Towards where the waitress had disappeared. “You took a solid minute to order a burger and pie.” The blonde tapped at his watch with a disbelieving smile on his face. 

Shaking your head a smile forms on your lips. His natural charm and teasing getting to you after having driven for hours with him. Now on your designated break to get dinner. You roll your eyes and start up a different topic. You filled in the good fifteen minutes of waiting for our burgers with talk about places you’ve looked for in Pensacola due to the rumors of the current bunks being horrible and constantly in need of maintenance. Going into detail about your favorite place you’ve found on a new house listing website you stumbled upon. But eventually the food came and you ate it up as quickly as you could. Wanting to get back on the road as soon as possible. Jake just huffed as you encouraged him to eat a little faster than his single fry at a time without even touching his sandwich yet. 

You picked up the bill when it came around, and Jake munched on his sandwich. So you took the time to calculate what percent of the tip you owed alongside your meal. Humming in satisfaction as you grabbed the dollars from your purse and laid aside the tip. 

“Y’know, you’re actually very attractive.” 

“Oh…” You swallow, “Thank you?”

“Stella never told me how attractive you were.”

You what now?

“A-Are you flirting with me right now?” You scoffed as you looked up at him like he was nuts. 

“I’m just saying you’re extremely good looking.” He offered a sly smile that had a hidden meaning behind it, you didn’t want to look too far into. Rolling your eyes at him you stood up and collected your things. “Hey- what’d I say!” The man laughed as he quickly pulled out his assumed amount of cash and slapped it on the table before following you out to the truck. Half a sandwich clutched in his hand as he ate it while he walked.

Pausing at the end of the steps you turned and pointed to him, “You’re dating my friend! And now you’re coming on me!” A groan leaves you as you spin back around and go to the truck. 

“Listen-” He jogs up to the driver's side of the truck. Going around the back of the truck to avoid him, you end up on the passenger's side. “You can’t deny that you are very attractive-”

You cut him short again, “You’re dating Stella right now! You are in a relationship. Can’t we just be friends?” Pulling open the passenger’s door and tossing your purse in carelessly. 

“Friends?” He gets into the driver's seat. You follow suit and get into the truck.

“Yes. Just friends.”

“Nope.”

Another scoff leaves you as he puts the truck into reverse, starting his shift behind the wheel. “What do you mean, nope? Men and women can be friends, y’know? It’s 2010, catch up with the times.” You gesture with your hand in exasperation. Men can be so complicated at times. 

“No, they can’t, Darlin’.” Pursing your lips you glare over at him. Leaving you hanging with no further elaboration. And he knows this pisses you off ever so slightly. He learned this early on in the trip. You can’t stand not knowing. 

In a monotone, sarcastic way you bite the bait. “Oh please, elaborate…” A deep sigh leaves you as you wait for whatever stupid guy excuse he’s gonna give.

He hums in appreciation as he spares a glance your way. “I mean this in the plainest way possible, and this is not me coming on you in any way, shape or form. But men and women can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.” Jake finished, plain and simple, as if it was the most obvious thing in the whole goddamn world. 

“No, no! You’re wrong, I have plenty of male friends.” You state, as if proving him wrong with those words alone. A small smile on your features as you think you’ve gotten him beat. 

But he was quick to argue. “Okay. Maybe one or two are okay. But as I said before, you’re attractive. They may be your friend, but they will never be a real friend because they most likely want to have sex with you. The second you let your guard down- let’s see… you have a gnarly break up? After you tell them, do you ever notice how they’re always there?” He lets that linger for a moment. And you let it sink in. No…that can’t be right, right? This jackass can’t possibly be right. “Exactly.”

A thought comes to mind, “So if a guy thinks a girl is unattractive, then they can be friends. Because he doesn’t want to have sex with her then, right?” You counter. 

“Nope…pretty much want to nail them too.” Jake nods with his bottom lip jutted out in thought. A frustrated huff escapes your lips. Slouching in your seat as you mull this over. Thinking of all the times you thought a guy who was just your friend seemed a little too chummy. 

“So we can’t just be friends?” You ponder to him. This causes a brief silence to ensue as he now takes a moment to think about it. 

He shook his head, “Nope. Not really, anyways.” 

“That’s too bad,” You exclaim, taking in a deep breath before releasing it in a sigh. “You were gonna be the only person I knew in Pensacola.” Looking over you take in his side profile. He didn’t look half bad, only downside is that massive ego that is bigger than Texas. Makes sense, he’s a strong Texan man anyways. Coming right from the heart of Austin, Texas. A fact he has bragged about so many times when he came over to pick up Stella. 

“Yeah…That’s too bad. Because I am a delight to be around.” He smirks as he looks over at you. It was so cocky and on brand of him, you couldn’t help but suppress a grin before turning away to look out of the window. Watching the dark landscape zipping past.

========

“Well, this is it! See you around, and have a nice life if I don’t…” You smiled brightly as you stood on the curb out front of the barracks that Jake is meant to stay in. 

It was unfortunate, but you couldn’t help but find it a bit funny that a guy like Jake Seresin is being reduced to the confines of having a bunk buddy. However, you doubt that’ll stop him from bringing a girl back. Jake hummed as he swung his bag over his shoulder. Far less than what you’d brought to fill in your potential home off base. The chance of running into Jake dropping significantly from just living off base in a bungalow rather than having another roommate for who knows how long. You were itching to find the right place and live alone for once. “Yeah…Yeah, I’ll see around Dolly.” He gives a little finger salute before turning on his heels to walk into the bustling barracks. 

“Dolly?” You laughed as you covered the sun with your hand, trying to catch another glimpse at the future aviator as he walked further away still. 

He turned and continued a slow pace backwards. “Yeah! Cause you sound just like her.” He winked before spinning back around and giving a dramatic wave over his shoulder without looking. As if telling you not to say anything more. That he was going to have the last word. 

2013

The task was easy, relatively. Being freshly stationed in Oak Harbor, Washington was nice. It was a good base, and you needed a change of pace anyways. Especially from where you were stationed as a mechanical engineer on a next gen fighter jet. The job itself wasn’t half bad, it was just out of your element. 

But here, you were right where you belonged. Working on something familiar…

Only issue…it was like moving schools. You were the new kid. A feeling you always dreaded when coming around to a new base. So as you approach mess, you hope and pray you’ll recognize someone. Either a face from when you were showed around or-

“Hey! Are you that new engineer? For the EA-18G’s?” A woman called. Looking over, you’re met with a stunning woman, still clad in her flight suit. Her hair is a mess and she’s looking at you expectantly. 

Blinking a few times you nodded, a smile curling onto her lips making you smile in return. “Yeah! Yeah, that’s me.” You offer her your hand to shake. She quickly wipes off her palm on her pant leg before reciprocating the gesture. Giving a firm handshake before she nods towards the free seat beside her. “Thanks…”

Taking a seat, you pull out your home packed lunch. Having never grown out of living by yourself after getting that first taste of freedom.So you would regularly take advantage of the small kitchen, making lunch in whichever apartment you were renting out for the duration of being stationed wherever you were. “Lieutenant Natasha Trace, but my callsign is Phoenix.” The woman offered. So you smiled and gave her your name in return. But just as you finished you spotted a tall blonde you were not expecting to see. He looked away in such a suspicious way that he must’ve been looking at you before you spotted him. Natasha must’ve noticed the way your face filled with disbelief as she quickly glanced over her shoulder. Coming back to meet your gaze as she rose a brow in confusion. “What? Recognize someone?”

“You can’t be serious…” You muttered under your breath as Jake glanced your way, meeting your gaze. You quickly look back at Natasha. “Yeah, yeah. Something like that.” You squeak as you try to hide your face. Resting your thumb to your temple and leaning your elbow on the table. Your fingers shadowing your face from the bright lights. Doing relatively nothing to hide you since Jake had already locked on. 

Even if he’s fast in a jet, he is slow to recognize a face. On his end he was taking a minute. When he glanced back your way to get a second look and met your surprised gaze it clicked for him. A smirk creeped onto his thin lips as he turned to put down his things next to his friend Coyote. 

“Who is it?” She asked, genuine curiosity filling her face. 

Taking a deep breath, you leaned in closer, “Okay, so after graduating from the academy three or so years ago, I had to get my truck down to Pensacola. My roommate's boyfriend was also being stationed there, so my roommate begged me to give him a ride down. Worst fourteen hours of my life.” You groaned at the memory. 

“That’s horrible, why would your roommate do that to you?” Natasha chuckled and you shrugged in exasperation. 

“Yeah, and then he tried to flirt with me, but of course, he was still with my friend. So I told him off about it and offered that we can be friends instead. Because he was still a great guy: funny, charismatic, all that stuff. But he said that we can’t. So I asked him why. He said that men and women can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way. Or something like that…? Either way, I’ve never had a good male friend ever since.” You finish your hushed rant, looking up to try and find him but not finding him there. Great, you think, maybe he left? Just about to spill more about the man to your new friend, hoping that he won’t come over.

But the dream of him not coming over was crushed as he approached with purpose. Like he knew exactly what he was walking into. Like he knew it was him that was being talked about, and took it as an ego boost. “Dolly–I’ll be damned–it is you.” He hummed as he clicked his tongue, his hands falling on his slim hips. 

He’d definitely gotten broader over the years. His face is still stupidly perfect, other than the fine smile lines coming in. Why does such a handsome man have to have such a cocky, egotistical, arrogant, jackass attached to it? 

“Jake. Still alive?” You rebutted with a slight glare. 

He just laughed it off and crossed his arms over his chest, “Alive and better than ever.”

All while you and Jake were staring each other down, Natasha was watching this all unfold. “Hangman? This is who you got stuck with for fourteen hours? I’m so sorry.” The brunette said, ignoring the blonde standing there like it was her job. It was clear to you that she and Jake most likely know each other pretty well. Have probably flown together on a few dozen hops together depending on how long they’ve been stationed here together. “Also, why did you call her Dolly? That isn’t her name.” Natasha finally directed her attention to Jake. It was a form of confusion for her, but it also doubled as her defending you. Which was sweet since you literally just met her. 

“Because she sings a lot of Dolly Parton, sounds just like her in my opinion. She probably played that Dolly Parton cassette twice over during our little road trip.” The pilot smirked as he took a seat from another table and placed it almost between you and Natasha. “Figured the nickname suited her.” He nodded as you rolled your eyes, cheeks flushing at the memory of playing the whole cassette more than once. 

The blonde looks at you, but it isn’t in an expectant kind of way. It was like he was studying you. Trying to get a read on how much his comment affected you. But that wasn’t actually what he was doing. Jake was just taking you in. Seeing that you still had that line between your brows when you looked at him like he was crazy. That you still had worry lines on your forehead from being an overachieving worker, much like himself. He looked away from your face and towards the table where a nicely laid out home-packed meal was. Still the same, Jake thought to himself. Taking in how you separated certain things from your sandwich and had your little snacks bagged to keep them from getting condensation on them from your cold drink you probably put in the freezer last night to keep it cooler throughout the day. 

“But how’ve you been Dolly?” Jake asked, sincerely and with interest. 

You were slightly caught off guard with his sudden interest in how you were doing. “I’m good…Just got transferred here this past weekend.” A small smile creeping onto your lips as you fiddle with the hem of your pants. “How about you, Hangman?” You return the question with a small smirk, using his newly discovered callsign.

“Good…I’ve been good.” He hums before tapping his hand on the table, “Uhmm, how’s, uhhh…” The man hesitated. Clearly trying to remember someone. It clicked, making you almost laugh in his face. 

“Stella?”

“Yeah! Stella Rogers.”

“Roberts.”

“Right, that’s what I said. How has she been?” Jake asked with a raised brow. 

You gazed right back at him, an unimpressed look settling on your features. Lifting your shoulders in a shrug, truthfully responding to him, “I wouldn’t know, I haven’t talked to her in a few years.”

Jake hummed again as he nodded. A common response for him. “You guys used to be really tight, what happened there?”

Another shrug from you. “Stuff happens. We just drifted apart.”

Poor Phoenix had to sit through the tension after your words. Neither of you know what to say next. Sparing a glance to the woman just past Jake, you try to communicate that you don’t know what to say. That you were a little lost and needed an out. She took in a deep breath and nodded, getting up with a screech of her chair. “C’mon, I’ll show you what was wrong with my jet.” She said, matter of factly. 

Quickly you pack up your lunch that remained untouched from when you unpacked it only ten minutes before, “Yeah! I’m sure I can get it fixed in no time.” You smile and get up, turning to Jake with a smile. “See you around, I guess.”

“That’s gonna be a hard one.” Your brows furrowed in confusion at his muttered words.

Pausing as you tilt your head, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, I’m getting transferred out this weekend.”

“Oh…” That’s only three days from now. This was a mere chance meeting. How ironic is that? 

“Maybe we could go out to dinner tonight? As friends.” He added quickly at the end. As if he recalled his whole men and women can’t be friends thing from three years ago. But you just shook your head. 

“No, uhm, I’m going out with my boyfriend, Ross, tonight…” You admit, and he hums with a smile. Muttering a small good for you. “Well, if I don’t see you around base…have a nice life.” 

“Yeah…You too, Dolly.”

2016

“Alright, and this is the head mechanic for the Dagger Squad. Callsign, Dolly. She’s the best, and I asked for her personally with what limited power I have over this mission.” You heard the familiar voice call. Smirking as you turned around and were faced with more than one familiar face. Sighing out as you lock eyes with a particular set of green eyes. 

“Dolly!” Phoenix called out with a smile, “You didn’t tell me you were Stateside!” The woman laughed as she jogged over to you. The rest of the squad follow suit in order to properly meet you.

With a bashful grin you hugged her when she made it over, the both of you managing to keep in contact after being stationed in Washington. “It’s good to see you too, Phe…” You hummed as the two of you swayed a little. Pulling back you moved onto the other familiar faces. “Rooster, good to see you again.” You pat the man's arm as you pass him up to go and hug Bob. One of your closest male friends that you’ve managed to keep in touch with. He’s always been respectful, but not straight out avoidant. “Bobby!” 

“Hi!” He chuckles as he takes you into his arms. Funny enough, you were just stationed in Lemoore with him, before you were transferred here. Only a few days before him, actually. He presses a soft peck to your hair as you squeeze his waist. “We only saw each other a few days ago, y’know?” He says matter-of-factly. 

Shaking your head again, you just chuckle. “Well, I thought I’d never see you again. Except for Christmas, because you promised. Actually, your mother promised.” You hummed as you patted his arm as you pulled away. It was quite a funny story that was kept between the two of you. Pulling away, you nod to Maverick with a smile. Having already had your bout of excitement with seeing him again when you first arrived in San Diego. 

You exchange some pleasantries with the other Dagger pilots before you’re met with Jake. Gazing up at him with a sigh as you approach him. “So, you’re still alive, Hangman?” You remember saying something along those lines last time you encountered him. 

Clearly, he remembers too. A small chuckle leaving him as he takes you in once again. Just like he did last time. To Jake, you looked better than ever. The same…but somehow better. Almost as if you haven’t aged a day since he last saw you. Only thing that’s really changed is your hair. But it’s hard to tell, your hair being in some kind of up-do you most likely did out of frustration of it being in your way while working. Your cheek has a smear of some kind of fluid, probably grease, that he also took note of on the back of your hand. He smirks, “Yeah, alive and better than ever, Dolly.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I see the callsign stuck.”

You chuckled lightly, nodding to him as you put your hands on your hips. “Yeah…I made the mistake of going to Karaoke night.” 

He nods, about to open his mouth to talk about something else when the squad was being called to the next area. “Say, let’s catch a drink at the Hard Deck. You can bring your boyfriend, uhm, R-Ray…?” Jake stumbled over the name, causing me to chuckle lightly. 

“Ross?”

“Right, that’s what I said. I just want to catch up…promise.” He offered again. Walking backwards to try and stay with his group. Coyote laughing at his friend. 

“Ross and I broke up a bit ago…But, sure. Drinks would be nice. My shift ends at eighteen hundred.” You said as you watched him continue to shuffle along slower than his group. 

“Great! Great, meet me there at twenty-one-hundred?” You nod to his words and he smirks. Waving to you before he takes off in a light jog to catch up with his group. 

========

“So basically, we broke up because we wanted two completely different things.” You frown into your drink, shaking your head as you recall your last conversation with your ex only a month ago. “We always used to say that we were so lucky we never moved as fast as our friends. Our friends that got married in a year, or our newer friends who had seven year olds. Because, you know what they say about kids…that it totally kills your sex life. At least, that's what all of my friends with kids tell me- well, my one friend. My friend Lucy…She said it so casually like it was such a widely known thing.” You sighed and shook your head. 

“Yeah, I think I can see that…” Jake said, making me nod along with his words. 

“But the main thing was that we always said to each other that we were so lucky. So lucky that we didn’t have kids to tie us down. To stop us from flying t-to Greece for a week on a whim, or having sex on the kitchen floor!” A soft laugh leaves the both of you, taking a long drink from your drink before you speak again. “The problem was that we never did that. No spontaneous trips…no kitchen sex. And when we talked it out and we established that we wanted different things, and called it off. A-and I’m not even sad about it. Four years of my life, gone, and I’m totally fine.” You nodded almost too much, as if trying to convince yourself that you were over your ex-boyfriend. 

“Yeah, you seem totally healthy right now.” Jake nods with a small smile on his face. The Hard Deck is bustling with life. Not as many khakis tonight as you’d expect for a Navy bar. But I knew that there were maybe one or two members of the Dagger squad here, besides Jake. Then some random Top Gun students, navy staff, and what you can only assume as usual locals. 

For some reason it hit you all at once that Jake has been the one asking questions all night. That he didn’t seem to mind listening to you rant about your ex-boyfriend. He was listening, like a good friend and never prompted himself. “God- Jake, I’m so sorry. I haven’t been asking you any questions! How’s the love life on your end?” You asked quickly, setting your drink down and situating yourself to be more alert. To make it look like you were actively listening to him. 

The pilot puffed his cheeks out and shook his head a little. “Man, I was in a relationship too until recently. She was apparently, uhm, cheating on me. Said she doesn’t think she ever loved me…It- It was rough.” He said with an awkward cough. As if trying to cover up the fact that he was in a relationship like that. One sided that ended in betrayal. 

“God- Jake, so sorry to hear about that. That must’ve been rough…” Reaching out, you place your hand over his in a comforting kind of way. Offering a soft smile when he looks up to meet my gaze. “If you ever need to talk, I’m willing to listen.”

His eyes narrowed at me, “Are we becoming friends right now?” Jake asked in a hesitant voice. 

That made you think for a moment. Recalling his words from before. But it was also sweet. He seemed genuine while asking. And you could feel it too. “Yeah, I think we are..” 

========

“What do you mean you’re just friends with Dolly?” Rooster inquired while he sat with Jake. The two of them have decided to go to the batting cages for the day for fun. 

It’d been a rough few weeks and now they were being offered a permanent position at Top Gun. After Jake saved Mav and Rooster the day of the Uranium Mission, the two pilots decided to let by-gones be by-gones and became friends. Both of them found out they played a little baseball in high school and decided to hit up the cages on a free weekend. 

Eventually, Dolly became a topic for the pair of aviators. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that? It’s…nice.” Jake shrugged while taking a sip of beer as they took a break from batting in the San Diego heat. 

“It’s nice? Are you shitting me!” Rooster scoffed a laugh, “You’ve got such a babe hanging off your arm on the daily at work. And you’re just shooting the shit? Having movie-takeout-nights at each other's places, and you’re not together or hooking up?” The mustached man took off his sunglasses as if to accentuate a point. But Jake just nodded along. 

Jake really saw nothing wrong with it. He knew what he said almost six years ago to Dolly. It became a laughing point now for the two of them. But other than that he saw not a single thing wrong with their relationship. “I’m not shitting you, this is probably the first female friend I’ve had in my whole life that I don’t want to have sex with. I feel like I’m growing as a person. I can talk to her about things and get another opinion on them that I normally wouldn’t hear.” Jake smirks to his friend. But he only gets a brow raise in response. As if it wasn’t as great a feat as he made it out to be. “Oh! Come off of it Rooster! Name one female friend you’ve had that you didn’t want to nail at some point!” The blonde barked out a laugh.

Rooster tried to sputter out a response, slightly embarrassed by Jake’s brashness in such a public setting. However, it occurred to Rooster that he always had that thought. Fleeting at best before finding out they were in a relationship or weren’t interested in him. At that, Rooster pouted and slouched in his seat. 

“Exactly.”

July, 2017

Jake was lounging on the couch, watching a random program on his TV when he got the call. He let his phone ring for a moment on the coffee table before he caught the name on his screen. A small smile turned up his lips when he picked it up. “Hey Dolly, why are you calling so late?”

“I’m so-sorry for calling so late. C-Can you come over? Please?” Your voice came out hiccupped and weak. Clearly upset by something and in desperate need of comfort. It made Jake immediately more alert, but he played it off. 

“Yeah, I can come over.” He was already slipping on his shoes and grabbing his keys. 

“Tha-thanks-”

A quick drive later and Jake was knocking on your door. Impatiently staring at the wood as he bounced on the balls of his feet. Some shuffling was heard on the other side of the door before it opened to reveal your blotchy face and tearful eyes. “Hey Dolly…” He muttered softly as he let himself inside. Closing the door softly as he looks down on you with a small smile. “What is it?” Jake asked as he placed a hand on your lower back and guided you to your kitchen. It was a simple move but it made you feel so much better. Distracting you until you remembered why you called Jake over. 

“He’s getting married- can you believe that!” You laughed wetly. A sob breaking past your wobbly lips as more tears spilled down your cheeks. “I need tissues…” Jake was currently moving around your kitchen collecting the makings for tea. In particular chamomile and ginger tea. Something you’d always have when you’re sick. 

Jake's brows furrowed in confusion. He grabbed a random box of tissues from the counter and set them in front of you. “Who’s getting married?”

You had the audacity to scoff as him, “Ross!”

That was a name Jake hadn’t heard in a minute. But after you raised your brows at him expectantly, awaiting his reaction, that’s when he remembered. “Oh-” That was good enough for you to talk again. 

“Can you believe that! H-He just called and said that he was getting married! To some secretary he met three months ago!” You blubbered, Jake quickly moving to comfort you. Setting down whatever he’d collected to take you into his strong arms. “He didn’t not want to get married- the truth was that he just didn’t want to marry me.. He didn’t love me.” 

“If you could take him back right now, would you?”

You shook your head as you took a tissue and wiped your face again. Frowning deeply as you stared blankly at the table. “No…it’s just-” Another hiccup, “Why didn't he want to marry me?” You replied shortly as you got up and walked towards your room. Your fluffy baby pink robe swaying along with you as you rushed to your sanctuary. Jake was quick to trail after you. Watching with a small smile as you threw yourself onto your bed dramatically. Curling up with all of your fluffy blankets and cushy pillows. “What’s wrong with me?” Jake crawled onto the bed and laid down facing you. Gently brush some hair from your forehead. 

“Nothing.” Jake murmured.

“I’m difficult.”

“You’re challenging.” He countered affectionately.

“I’m too structured and I’m completely closed off.” 

“In a good way.”

You sat up in a huff. He followed with a soft touch before you turned to him with a pout. “Can you hold me? Pl-please…?”

Without another word he pulls you into a soft hug that has you hiding your face in his neck. He smelled like peppermint and cinnamon. A smell you’d come to love and find comfort in while hanging out with Jake over the past year. Talking about everything and nothing on those quiet nights where you had nothing better to do. Or the nights when the Hard Deck was so crowded it forced you two closer together than friends would normally stand. On those nights his hand would find your waist to keep you from falling if a sailor vying to the bar accidentally knocked into you. 

He tried to pull back but you didn’t want him to leave just yet. You wanted to be with him a little longer. For him to pull you against him tighter. So, when he pulled back enough for you to see his face, you whined pitifully. Hands going to his shoulders to keep him from going too far. “Just a little longer?” You whispered hopefully. 

He hummed and pressed a soft peck to your lips before pulling you into his chest again. The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes before he pulled back again. “You feelin’ better?” Jake asked softly. You only murmured some response that you weren’t even really paying attention to as you kept stealing glances at his lips. Blinking rapidly as you realized what you were doing and looking back up to his soft green eyes. Only for him to look right back at you. No doubt as if to say that he saw you looking at him like that. 

That’s when he pressed another soft kiss to your lips. 

It was longer, not as fleeting as the one before that could’ve been passed off as friendly. This one had something behind it. Whether that was built up sexual tension or love was debatable for both parties. One kiss turned into two…then four, then…

========

“Mmmm…” You shifted in the bed, rolling over with a smile as you slowly woke up. Only to be startled out of that blissful morning state with the clank of a buckle and the rustling of clothes. Sitting up with your white sheets clutched to your chest you found Jake getting dressed. “Where are you going?” 

Jake looked up from where he was putting on his jacket. “I gotta go home, get changed, then go to work. And you have to get up and also go to work soon.” He grunted out as he slipped on his shoes. You pouted over so slightly as your brows drew up in a silent mix of frustration and confusion. Why did this piss you off? Why are you feeling pissed off? It’s a reasonable excuse to leave- “Let's go out to dinner tonight, seven work for you?”

Looking up you are met with Jake standing right next to the bed. Looking down on you expectantly. “Y-Yeah…Seven works.”

“Great..” He muttered as he leaned down and pressed a quick peck to your hair before turning to leave again. “I’ll text you the details later today.” And with that he was gone. The two of you were quick to call up one of the dagger squad members. Conveniently enough, those members happened to like their gym mornings. So what Hangman and Dolly did last night became the topic of the gym between Phoenix, Rooster, Bob, and Coyote. 

=========

Your anxiety was through the roof as you tried to debate on what to do. Honestly, you didn’t know how you felt about Jake. He was nice and funny, and the last person I wanted to talk to at the end of the day. But you guys were friends. You couldn’t let one night ruin your friendship…

So you decided you would say it first. All while you were getting ready for dinner that night after work you kept rehearsing the words in your head. It was somehow worse that you didn’t see anyone throughout the day either. Being stuck in an office where you barely got any work done as all you could do was think about Jake. 

When you were safely at home and getting ready you kept saying the words to yourself. The words that you would say to Jake. 

It was a mistake.

As soon as the waitress left you practically blurted, “It was a mistake.” 

An uneasy smile on your red lips as you wring your hands in your lap anxiously. Hoping and praying that he would just let it lie. He nodded, “Thank god- Yeah, it was a mistake.” He chuckled wearily and took a sip of his wine. 

“Yeah, a complete mistake.” Just as you finished, you took another sip of wine. Soon enough silence fell over the table. People chattering besides and around you. However, the silence that fell over your table was almost uncomfortable. A feeling you haven’t felt for a while with Jake. The two of you are saved by the delivery of your appetizers salads. Quietly you eat, eventually catching eachothers eyes in small fleeting moments. 

“That’s what I like about us. It’s just so nice to have a meal and not talk.” Jake suddenly said before stuffing more salad in his face.

========

August, 2017

It was a beautiful ceremony and now an astonishing reception for Penny and Mavericks' wedding. Right now Penny and Mav were having their first dance. It was slow and to some older song they used to jam to when they were in their younger years. 

The ceremony took place on the beach out back of the Hard Deck, simple but so on brand. Then they moved half inside, half outside for the reception after. Everyone helped out when asked to help decorate the Navy bar for the reception. 

You were so happy for them. 

But you also couldn’t help but feel down in the dumps. Having felt so lonely lately. Actively avoiding Jake aside from work encounters that wouldn’t exactly count. After…that night you only hung out alone one other time and it killed you so much that you decided to either make an excuse to get out of the next ones or invite someone along. Apparently Jake had the same idea. Only having us together on group outings and sticking with Rooster or Coyote most of the time. All while you sidled up with Phoenix and Bob just the same. 

So imagine your surprise when Jake comes around. 

“Beautiful ceremony.” He said with a small smile. You only hum in response, making his smile fall as he steps in front of me. Not giving me the option to look away without being outright mean. Something you didn’t like doing. Something Jake knew and was now taking advantage of. So you met his piercing green eyes with a heated glare. “What’s up with you, I thought we agreed it was a mistake. You’re still acting like I kicked your puppy or something.” Jake asked with a little too much amusement than you would’ve appreciated. 

You scoffed and turned away from him. Not wanting to get into it in the middle of the reception. Turning back to look at him only to find him just where you left him. So you waved him along before spinning on your heels and weaving through the crowd towards the parking lot. Pushing your way outside, you ended up pacing for a moment before Jake came outside. “What are you insinuating, Jake?” 

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m saying that you’re avoiding me. What happened, we agreed it was a mistake, I don’t see why you’re dragging this out.” Jake shrugged. 

“What- It just happened!”

“Three weeks ago!” A low groan emanated from you as you tried to keep back your frustration with the subject. “You know how one year to humans is like seven years to a dog?” He asked, his hand coming up to his face. Forefinger and thumb rubbing along his chin in thought. 

Your brows pinched together at his words. “And who’s the dog in this situation?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You need me to paint a picture for you?” He threw back cockily. 

“Me? I’m- I’m the dog!”

“Yes! Why can’t you just get over it!”

Hot tears welled up in your eyes as you snapped right back at him, “You wanna act like what happened didn’t mean anything!”

“I’m not saying it didn’t mean anything. I’m saying, why does it have to mean everything?” 

“Because it does.” The build up of tears fell over. Streaking down your flushed cheeks as you stared up at him in disbelief. 

“What-” He puffed a soft laugh, “What was I supposed to do? You were looking up at me with those sad puppy eyes, asking me to hold you a little longer-”

“What! So it’s my fault, you had sex with me, because- what? You felt sorry for me!” You raised your voice at him. Flushed with anger as you put together what he was saying. 

“Dolly-”

Without thinking you slapped him. “Fuck you!” You stormed back inside to go say goodbye to the new couple and take your leave. What is up with him? You thought it was more than that. That what happened would mean more. But apparently to him, it was just a pity fuck. Wiping your tears as you walked you made your way over to your things. Grabbing your phone out of your purse, using the camera to fix yourself before you slung your bag over your shoulder. Ready to go say goodbye to Penny and Mav. 

“Dolly, please-” Jake appeared by your side again. 

“Hangman-”

“-And we’d like to thank Hangman for saving Rooster and I merely a year ago. Then of course our head engineer, Dolly. A vital part of our team from the ground. Both of which have been such a help over the past six months with the wedding. Going above and beyond to calm both Penny and I down whenever we got stressed over the wedding. Of course, so have the rest of the Dagger squad. But damn it. Hangman and Dolly as a team- downright unstoppable. So thanks to the both of you as well.” The two of you paused as heads turned your way. Smiles being flashed your way as you and Jake stood dumbfounded at the sudden thank you from Maverick. 

Sucking it up, you plant a smile on your face. Nodding and waving shyly before you glance up at Jake. Seeing him already doing the same. 

Shit…

========

October, 2017

“-on the line. Call me, call me any, anytime! Call me, I’ll arrive. When you’re ready we can share-”

He’d been singing over the answering machine for a solid minute or so while you got ready. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence now. He’s been ringing your phone off the line after he’d found out you silenced his calls and muted his messages. You couldn’t bring yourself to block his number, on your cell nor the landline. Just in case he really needed to get a hold of you. But right now it’s looking a lot like this. So you caved. “Jake.” 

There's a small fumbling on the other line. “Dolly?”

With a deep sigh you ran your fingers through your hair, leaning back against the counter as you held the phone to your ear. “What do you want, Hangman?” You used his callsign. Showing that you really weren’t in the mood. A habit you had before, and one you can’t seem to shake. 

“N-Nothing… Just,” He cleared his throat nervously. “Sorry I wasn’t expecting you to pick up…Just- H-How’ve you been?” The pilot managed to get out after a moment of stuttering. Something that is foreign to Jake. And something that’s foreign to you as well, he never seemed to stutter. 

“I’ve been okay.”

“Good…that’s good. Umm- so I was thinking that we could maybe go out to dinner…?” He asked with a slight waver in his voice. 

You missed him, but you still felt hurt. “Not tonight, I’m just about to head out.” 

“Oh- where are you going?” 

Shaking your head you sighed at him. “I’m late. Goodnight, Hangman.” You said blandly before hanging up on him. Quickly leaving your apartment to go meet up with Phoenix and Bob.

=========

Hangman was currently taking his time. Taking too long to get ready for the Navy Ball he didn’t even want to attend right now. By the time he would get there it would only be an hour before they started to kick everyone out. 

He kept thinking about you. 

What went wrong? Why did he say what he said? He cared about you. He cared about you so much it hurt. It hurt that night when he slept with you because right after he felt like he betrayed your trust. He didn’t know if you wanted it right then because you were just hurt by the news of Ross’ wedding. It almost hurt more when he was already halfway out the door when you asked where he was going the morning after. You sounded so heartbroken over him leaving that he wanted to crawl right back into bed with you. 

He hurried up his motions to get ready. Knowing that you were at the ball was his only solace as he jammed his socked feet into his dress shoes.

You on the other hand were drained. Your dress felt too tight, the music wasn’t helping your headache. The man droning on in front of you doing nothing to help the headache. You honestly weren’t paying attention to him. Did that make you feel bad, yes. But you were too tired to care. 

Suddenly he was laughing and you took a moment to process this before you joined him. Throwing your head back in one of your more believable fake laughs. 

You quickly tried to think of an excuse to get away from this guy. Your eyes locked onto a Dagger squad member and you did your best to look surprised. “Sorry, I haven’t seen this person in forever! I’ll see ya later.” You rushed, brushing past the man with a roll of your eyes as you walked over to Fanboy. “Save me.” You whispered quickly. 

“What?” 

And that was how you ended up dancing with Fanboy for a while before you both retreated to the bar to complain about the choice of music that was blasting through the hall. “Y’know what, I might ditch. I’m so tired…” You drew out as you gave Fanboy a look that told him that you weren’t kidding. 

Apparently Penny was on the other side of you. “Oh, c’mon. Have another dance or two. I know Mav has been wanting to dance with you.” She piped up, making you feel bad. Looking back at her you offer an apologetic smile. 

“I don’t know, Pen…”

“Just wait, five more minutes. I’m sure he’ll be back around.” She pleaded softly, making your brows furrow as you really contemplated if you should or not. You’re head pounded, completely overwhelmed by the music and people around. If another admiral's wife asked where your husband was you’d lose your shit. Regretfully, you nod. Turning back to Fanboy to pass the time since the two of you were in a discussion about the Star Wars trilogies. 

Maverick did come around eventually, his smile brightening ten fold as he saw you. He passed by and greeted Penny with a peck. Tracking the man expectantly, you watched as Penny leaned in to whisper to him quickly. Without a doubt about how you were about to leave. 

“Dolly, c’mon. One last dance then I’ll give you a one way ticket out of here. What do you think?” Maverick said as he approached me. Offering me his arm with his ever so friendly grin. Giving the warm feeling a father would as you smiled back. A genuine smile for the first time all night. You let him sweep you into the crowd. A slower song playing allows you and Mav to just sway and talk softly to each other. “Are you okay, Kiddo? You seem down…” He asked. 

You sighed and shook your head slowly. “I-I don’t know…” You mumbled before you rested your cheek on his shoulder. 

He was silent for another beat before talking again, “Is it because something happened between you and Hangman?” You were quick to pull back and blink up at him in shock. He quietly laughed at my reaction. “There was some hot gossip a few months ago. After that…the two of you seemed distant. Then you seemed to not talk to each other at all after the wedding. Some people said you had a fight.”

Tears filled your eyes before you confirmed with a slow nod. “Yeah…Yeah- we fought.”

A small smile came onto his aged features before he pecked your forehead. “Do you miss him?” Another nod, “Then why didn’t you two try to talk it out?”

“That’s what we did at the wedding…That’s why we stopped talking.” You wiped away your tears as you smiled still. “I don’t know what to do Mav…” Your voice wavered, full of emotion as you looked to the older man for some guidance. Just like you always have since you first met him all those years ago. 

“Mind if I cut in?” 

Your head whips over to the ever haunting voice. Seeing Jake with red cheeks and his hair windswept. Suddenly Maverick lets you go. “Be my guest.”

“Mav-”

“Dolly.” He responded, it was firm but also playful. A smirk on his lips as he looks to you before sending a slight glare to Hangman before he walks away. 

“Dolly…” Looking back up you watch as Hangman stands there. His hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, he was aching to touch you. “C-Can I have this dance with you?” He offered a trembling hand. You looked at how it shook before you looked back up to see Jake pleading silently with his eyes. “Please?”

Wordlessly, you took his hand. Stepping closer, but also keeping a fair distance as you placed your other hand on his shoulder. He cradled your hand in his, his other finding your waist. “Took so long, I thought you wouldn’t show.” You deadpanned as you danced to another slow song. Staring over his shoulder as you refused to meet his gaze. This song was somehow slower than the last. 

“I was doing some thinking, and the thing is I love you.” He said all in one breath. 

Now that got you to look at him. He didn’t stutter, he wasn’t nervous or lying.

“What?” You gaped in shock. 

“I love you.” Jake whispered. To you but almost to himself as well. 

Taking in a shaky breath as you licked your lips. Feeling your mouth go dry as you struggle to find the words. “How do you expect me to respond to this?”

“How about you love me too?” He gazed down at you in the most lovesick way you’d ever seen. Never have you seen this with any of his past girlfriends he’s had over the past year or so… 

Your heart rate picks up and you exhale sharply. Feeling an urge to run and try and process this all in the comfort of your plush bed. “How about I’m leaving.” You pull away from him and brush past him towards the exit. Brushing past people with small excuse me’s and sorry’s. 

“Doesn’t what I just said mean anything to you?” Jake was trailing after you as close as he could without stepping on your dress. You whipped around in the crowded floor to face him. 

“I’m sorry, Jake. I know you’re lonely, I’ve been just as lonely. But after everything that happened you can’t just show up here, say sorry, and expect everything to be okay. It doesn’t work that way.” You said in a raised voice. It was part out of desperation to get away, and because of the still bustling party going on around the two of you. 

“How does it work then?”

“I don’t know, but not like this.” You shook your head at him. Turning to leave again but he grabbed your wrist gently to prevent you from turning away. 

“How about like this? I love that you get cold when it's seventy one degrees out, I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich, I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts, I love that after I spend a day with you I can still smell your perfume on my clothes and I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” He finished with a huff. Shaking his head as he offered a small smile. Waiting patiently for you as you stared at him like he was nuts, that signature little furrow in your brow making that crinkle appear.

Tears welled in your eyes as you scoffed a laugh, “God- That is just like you Hangman. You say things like that and you make it impossible for me to hate you…I hate you. I really hate you.” You let out a small sob as you reached up and wiped your tears again. He smiled slightly before taking your face softly in his large hands. 

You smiled as you grasped his wrists to keep him right where he was. “Love you too…” He whispered before pressing his lips to yours. It was a slow but sensual kiss. Filled with nothing but love. It felt like fireworks on New Years Eve. Your chest felt warm and fuzzy as your stomach flipped. Jake had similar feelings. To the both of you, everything was finally right in the world…

Kissing in a crowded room, but the two of you didn’t know any better. 

Note: Sorry I’m so late with this, I literally drove six hrs home from college that weekend on a whim so I got loaded with homework early in the week. But here it is now. Plz have mercy on me, this is only a random thing I’ve been wanting to do. I didn’t stick to the plot of When Harry Met Sally too much, but it’s also blindingly obvious. First plotted story that isn’t just smut lol…

Apologies if it's ass

[callsign-magnolia]

Undiagnosed // Ch. 19

Mature Content 18+

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

A/N: Please read blog update, here.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, trauma response, abusive parents, smut.

Word Count: 6.0k

Chapter 18 | Masterlist

Friday night rolls around and of course, it comes with a Hard Deck invitation. After the last time I was in a room full of naval officers, I was feeling nervous. I slipped on a cream colored sundress which had little daisies dotted on it. I slid my feet into the tan platform sandals and pulled my hair up into a ponytail. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves as I made my way downstairs. “Ready, darlin’?” Jake asked, clicking off his phone as he put it in his pocket. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked, hoisting my purse onto my shoulder. “Nothing is going to happen.” He said, stepping closer and gently holding my biceps. “That’s what you said last time.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “I promise you, nothing will happen this time. If anyone tries we’ll deal with it. It won’t blow up like last time.” 

I sighed, looking up at him as his arms went around my waist. “Jake-” “I promise, darlin’. I’ll make sure you have fun tonight and it’ll all go smoothly.” I sighed, my forehead falling to rest on his chest. “Okay.” I huffed and he chuckled, leaning down to kiss my head. I pulled away, leaning up to kiss him and he met me halfway. “I love you.” I said and he just smiled at me. “I love you too.” He held my hand as he led me out of the house. He made sure the front door was locked before he led me over to the truck, opening the door for me and helping me in. He pulled my seatbelt over me, clicking it into place before he kissed my cheek and made his way over to the drivers side. He immediately grabbed my hand, kissing it before he rested our intertwined fingers on the center console. The ride was quiet, the only noise coming from the radio that played a local country station. We pulled into the sandy lot, the neons illuminating the inside of the truck. I took in a shaky breath, staring at the crowd. 

“Hey.” Jake whispered softly. I turned to see him, turned in his seat to face me. “If you don’t want to tell them. We won’t, this is all up to you, darlin’.” I gave him a small smile and crawled over the center console to perch myself in his lap. “I want to. I want everyone to know. I’m just nervous of the repercussions.” I told him as my arms wrapped around his neck. His hands held my waist tightly as he looked up at me. “What do you think the repercussions will be?” He asked and my fingers played with the hair at the base of his neck. “My dad stripping you of everything. Me somehow winding up back in that house.” As soon as the words left my lips he yanked me impossibly closer, his green eyes boring into my own. “I don’t care what he takes from me, so long as it isn’t you. If I lose my career then it is what it is, but I swear to you, Katie. You will never go back to that house. I will do whatever it takes to keep you with me, and no one, you hear me, no one will take you away from me.” My forehead dropped to his as my hands moved to cradle his neck. “I love you.” I whispered before I leaned down and kissed him. “I love you too, darlin’.” 

With that he slid me off of him and climbed out of the truck, before turning to me. “C’mon darlin’. Let’s go have some fun.” I smiled and let him help me out of the truck before he intertwined our fingers. He held my left hand as I reached my right over, my hand resting on his bicep. We walked in and immediately multiple people turned to us and greeted Jake. He flashed everyone a bright smile and introduced me to everyone as his girlfriend. It scared me but also made me feel good. Wanted, loved. Once we were left alone he led me back to the pool tables where the rest of the team was. “Hey!” He said loudly, catching everyone’s attention. They all turned to us, greeting us with big smiles. “What’s this?” Javy asked, nodding to our hands. Jake held up our intertwined fingers, kissing my knuckles. He looked at me with a questioning look and I nodded. “We’re together.” He said out loud and immediately Natasha jumped up from her spot next to Bradley and rushed over. “Oh my god!” She wrapped her arms around me in a hug. “I knew it would happen.” She said to me. “Pay up Coyote!” She turned and said, the man huffing and pulling out his wallet. “You knew?” I asked and she nodded as she let me go. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. I knew it would happen eventually.” With that Bob came over. “It’s about time.” He said, pulling me into a hug before wrapping Jake into one as well.

Everyone was happy but Bradley kept his distance. Mav and Penny even came to say congratulations but also that Jake better not fuck up, which made me laugh. I gave Bradley his space but about halfway into the night I walked out onto the back deck where he was leaning against the wooden railing. “Hey.” I said and he turned to me before facing the water. “Hey.” He muttered and I stepped closer. “Are you okay?” I asked and he sighed. “Yeah.” He sounded so annoyed it made tears well in my eyes. “Are you sure? If I did anything, I’m sorry.” I said and he chuckled. “Come here.” He opened his arm and I stepped closer, allowing him to throw his arm over my shoulder. He squeezed me to his side, staring out at the ocean. “What’s going on?” I asked and he sighed. “Are you happy?” He asked, looking down at me and I nodded. “I’m very happy, Bradley.” I told him. “What’s this about?” I asked him. “I just worry about you. You know, mom never saw anyone else after dad died. So I was always an only child, but I don’t know, I worry about you like you’re my little sister.” He said, not looking my way. “I’m an only child too. But it’s nice to have someone like an older brother looking out for me.” I said, leaning into him. He just chuckled and patted my shoulder. “I guess if you’re happy that’s all that matters.” He said and I nodded. “I’m very happy. Truth be told, I don't think I’ve ever been this happy.”

“Get tired of being inside?” I heard a voice behind me and turned to see Jake. In all honesty, it was a little overwhelming in there. “A little. Just stepped out to talk to Rooster and catch my breath.” I said and he nodded, walking closer. “Did you win?” When I first walked out here, he was in a match against Fanboy, who was secretly a pool shark. “No. You know that nobody can beat Fanboy.” He said and I giggled as he wrapped his arms around me. “Except me.” Rooster said. “One time. You beat him one time and it was because you got lucky.” They laughed together before Rooster went back inside. “You okay?” He asked and I nodded. “I got a little overwhelmed in there. Plus after we told everyone Bradley kinda disappeared.” I told him and he furrowed his brows. “Was he mad?” I could see his shoulders tensing and he stood a little straighter. “No. Calm down.” I said, placing my hands on his arms and he visibly relaxed. “He just asked if I was happy.” I said and he raised a brow. “And what did you say?” It was my turn to raise my brow at him. “Do you think I’m unhappy?” I asked and he chuckled, wrapping his arms around my waist. “No. I would know if you were unhappy.” He said, pulling me close. “Oh, you would? You think you know me so well?” I asked and he chuckled, leaning down and kissing me. “Yes. I do.” I smiled up at him, gently smacking his shoulder. “You’re so sure of yourself.” I told him with a laugh. “When it comes to you I always am.” 

He pulled me ever closer, before turning us and backing me into the railing. “So, what did you tell him?” He asked, smiling down at me. “Did you tell him you’re the happiest you’ve ever been?” He joked and I just grinned at him. “Yeah.” His eyebrows shot up. “Wait, really?” I nodded. “I told him I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.” My hands rested on his forearms, as his hands held my waist. He smiled at me before dropping his forehead to mine. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.” He said before I smiled up at him. “So I guess we’re both happy.” I said and he nodded before lifting me up onto the railing. “Unbelievably happy.” He said as he stepped between my legs and kissed me. My arms went around his neck and I moaned as he tugged on my bottom lip. “This reminds me of one of our favorite positions back home.” I said as he pulled away. “You mean when I fuck you on the kitchen counter like the dirty girl you are?” He said, kissing beneath my ear and sending a shiver down my spine. “You fuck me on any surface you can get me on.” I told him, capturing his lips with mine. “Mm, you’re right.” He said. “But you know what surface you haven’t fucked me on?” I asked, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck in my fingers. “What?” He asked, nipping my neck. “Your truck.” He stopped, his eyes meeting mine. 

“Are you serious?” He asked and I nodded. “Why not?” He smirked at me. “Are you feeling needy, darlin’?” He asked, hand slowly slipping between my legs, nudging my panties and making me whine. “Yeah.” I was breathless. He pushed a little harder against my clit and I gasped, him taking the opportunity to kiss me, tongue licking into my mouth. “You’re already so wet for me.” He muttered, lips moving to my neck as he rolled my clit with his thumb. My breathing became heavier and I arched into him, one arm around his neck, the other gripping the wrist of the hand under my dress. I moaned quietly as he sucked on my neck and a shiver ran down my spine. I opened my eyes, and gasped again. “Jake.” I whispered, not taking my eyes off the guy in the corner. He hummed but didn’t stop. “Jake.” I said again and he pulled back from my neck, looking at me. “What?” He asked. “It seems we have a voyeur.” I said, nodding to the guy in the back corner. He stiffened and turned around. The guy kind of reminded me of Bob with his glasses.

“Wanna watch?” Jake smirked at the man and immediately the man became cowardly and ran back inside. I smacked his shoulder as he chuckled. “Really?” I asked and he chuckled. “Oh come on, you’re not into exhibitionism?” He asked. “Not with strangers.” I replied and he paused, staring at me. “We’ll explore that later.” He said and I giggled. “Later is good. Because right now, I need you in the back of the truck.” I whispered and he practically growled. He pulled me off the railing and smacked my ass. “Let’s go.” He said and I took off around the building. He grabbed at my waist, making me laugh as I rounded the front and ran for the very back of the parking lot. Jake unlocked the truck as we got closer and I immediately swung the back door open. “Get your ass in there.” He said, smacking my ass again as I climbed in. I tossed my purse in the front seat as he slid in next to me. As soon as the door was closed we were grabbing at each other and Jake immediately pulled me under him. I quickly worked to get his jeans off before pushing his boxers down. He was rock hard, cock slapping against his stomach as he pushed me back down in the seat. 

He pushed my dress up before yanking my thong down, tossing them to the floorboard. “Jake.” I whined, the chilly air reminding me how bare I truly was. “I know, darlin’. Just sit still for me.” My hands were up by my head when he grabbed the straps of my dress, pushing them off my shoulders before yanking it down, allowing my breasts to bounce free of their restraints. He lifted one of my legs, my foot pressing against the ceiling as one of my hands held onto the door handle while his lips latched onto my nipples. “Jake.” I gasped, fingers of my free hand weaving into his hair. I reached between us, fingers wrapping around his cock. “Need you.” I whined, guiding him closer to my entrance. I was startled when his hand wrapped around my neck. “You need me, huh?” He asked and I nodded as best I could. “Gotta give my girl what she wants, don’t I?” With that he thrust into me harshly. The pain made me yelp but it felt so good at the same time. 

Jake stilled for a moment, lips meeting mine. “You okay?” He asked. I found it sweet that he cared but at the same time, I didn’t want him to stop. “Just fuck me right.” I said and he chuckled. “Whatever you want, darlin’.” He kissed me again as he pulled out, before slamming back into me. He found a rough pace which I loved and I threw my head back as I moaned loudly. “Oh fuck, Jake!” I cried out as he hit that one spot deep inside me. “You like that?” He asked and I nodded. “Does that feel good?” He sat up, keeping me close as he fucked into me. “You’re not getting out of this truck until you cum on my cock, darlin’.” I moaned loudly. “Yes. Fuck, Jake! Don’t stop!” I begged and he didn’t, his pace became more rough and I couldn’t resist reaching up and kissing him. 

But I was startled when he pulled me into his lap, sitting back in the seat. I whined as he stilled. “Use your words, darlin’.” He said, rolling his hips and making me gasp. “So big.” I mumbled, burying my face in his chest. “So full.” I truly did feel full, like there was no space left inside me at all. Jake continued to roll his hips until I sat up, rolling my own. Our moans both filled the truck, his hands groping my breasts as my own hands rested on his shoulders. I started bouncing on him and his hands left my breasts for my hips, helping me in my movements. I felt my orgasm slowly building and I picked up my pace. “You gonna cum for me?” He asked and I nodded. His lips found my nipple and the pleasure inside me built more. “Yes, Jake!” I cried out. “I’m so close, darlin’.” So was I. “Jake. Jake! Cum inside me!” I said as I chased my high. I was a babbling mess as I met his thrusts. “You want me to?” He asked and I nodded. “Please. Fill me up!” I had never needed something so bad in my life. He gripped my neck, making me look at him as he fucked up into me. 

“I’m gonna keep your pretty little pussy so full.” His other hand wrapped around my neck as well, keeping me still as he fucked me roughly and with one lick to my nipple I was tumbling over the edge. I screamed as my orgasm had my body shaking and not long after he pulled me down onto his cock, hot ropes of cum filling me up. We were breathing heavily as he pulled me into a kiss, trying to come down from his own high. After we caught our breath I took a minute. I was so full of cum, it was dripping onto our legs. “I’m gonna need my panties back.” I said and he raised a brow. “I’d rather see my cum drip down your thighs all night.” He said and I chuckled. “I’d rather keep it inside me.” I said, nipping at his bottom lip. With that I took a deep breath, laying my head on his chest as his arms went around me. “I love you, Katie.” He whispered in my ear. “I love you too, Jake.” I said, leaning up and kissing his cheek. 

With that we got dressed and straightened ourselves out before wandering back inside. “Where’d you two go?” Phoenix asked, handing us some drinks. “They were in the back of Jake’s truck.” Coyote said, appearing next to Jake. My jaw dropped and a blush crept up my neck at his words. “Ho-how did you know?” I whispered and he laughed. Jake wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close. “How could we not?” He asked and Payback walked over. “We saw the truck rocking from the front doors!” He yelled out, making the blush grow. My eyes shifted to the floor and suddenly Jake’s arm disappeared from my shoulders, making me feel vulnerable. “You don’t have to yell it out.” He said to Payback, his tone low. “Now quit laughing, both of you.” He said and they stopped. Jake turned back to me, his arm going over my shoulders again. “You okay?” He asked and I nodded. “Just ridiculously embarrassed. We hung around for a few more hours and just before we left, Coyote and Payback both came up to me when Jake walked away. Neither of them looked at me and I didn’t look at them. “Katie?” Coyote asked and I turned to him. Now they were looking at me. “We just… wanted to apologize for earlier.” Payback said. “We crossed a line, and we’re sorry.” Coyote continued. I felt awkward sitting here with both of them. “Oh, don’t worry about it, it’s okay.” I said, and they shook their heads. “But it’s not. We’re deeply sorry, Katie. Can you forgive us?” Payback asked and after a second of silence, I nodded. “Yeah, I can.” They opened their arms and I pulled them into a hug. “Everything okay over here?” Jake asked as he came back. “Great.” Coyote squeaked out as I squeezed both of them.

That weekend was spent studying, and having a lot of sex. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I decided come Sunday I would shower, alone. Much to Jake’s dismay. I took a lengthy shower, taking the time to shave my legs, exfoliate, do a hair mask, the whole nine yards. By the time I was done the water was running cold. I shut off the water and opened the curtain. I took a deep breath, feeling much better than I had before I got in. I reached for my towel but jumped back when something fell off. I looked on the ground to see a spider. It was so big it would probably barely fit into the palm of my hand. “JAKE!” I screamed, grabbing the extendable shower head and aiming at the spider. If this thing so much as moved I was ready to completely soak the house. “What?!” He sounded panicked and even looked it when he saw me. He saw where I was aiming and he paled slightly. “Holy shit. That thing is ginormous.” He said, looking down at it. “Kill it!” I demanded. “I’m not gonna kill it.” He said. 

“Then get it out of here and take it far away!” I said. He just chuckled and disappeared. “JAKE!” He just left me here?! “Calm down. I went to get this.” It was a flyswatter and he bent down, sliding it under the spider's legs. “If that thing gets near me, I’m drowning it.” I said as he stood. “It’ll be fine.” He said. But it wasn’t. The spider fell off of the fly swatter and I screamed. Jake stood still until it started towards him and as a reaction he stomped on it. Then, it was like my nightmares came to life. Thousands upon thousands of tiny black dots came out from under the crushed bug, covering the floor. A high pitched squeal escaped Jake and I both as they started up his legs. “SPRAY IT!” He squealed and I turned on the water, soaking the floor as he ran out. But not even a second later he rushed back in. “GET THEM OFF ME!” He all but dove into the shower and I soaked him from head to toe with the sprayer. It felt like an eternity before we felt like he was clean and the floor was safe. “I’m sorry Jake but we now have to burn this house to the ground.” I said and he shook his head. “No, we don’t. But we will bomb it and I’ll get an exterminator in here.” He said as we both stared at all the dead spiders on the floor. “Might wanna get someone to make sure there’s no water damage as well.”

A little while later we had the floor cleaned up, killing a few stragglers as we went. But I had changed into one of his sweatshirts and some shorts before walking downstairs. “I can’t believe that happened.” I said, a shiver running down my spine. I reached into the fridge, pulling out some chicken for dinner and setting the package in the sink. I looked up to see Jake holding a bouquet of roses. “Aw, Jake.” I said, stepping forward and taking the bouquet from him. “But what are they for?” I asked. He looked nervous, fiddling with something behind his back. “To soften the blow.” I furrowed my brows and grew nervous. “A-are you breaking up with me?” I asked, tears welling in my eyes. “What? No! Darlin, no!” He said, wrapping his arms around me. “But you said they were to ‘soften the blow’.” He quickly shook his head. “For me! The blow to me.” I furrowed my brows even more confused. “Don’t freak out. But after Friday night, we went without condoms the entire weekend. It’s completely up to you, but just in case…” He set a small box on the counter and I looked at it. “Plan B?” I asked, setting down the flowers on the counter and picking up the box. “It’s just in case. I know that we made our decision to go without the condoms. But I wanted you to have it if you wanted it. This isn’t me forcing it on you, it’s just if you want it.” I bit my lip, looking down at the box. 

“Thank you.” I told him. “I know we never discussed kids or anything, but I want you to know I support you in whatever you want.” He said and I smiled up at him. “Thank you, babe.” I said, standing on my toes and kissing his cheek. We cooked dinner together, me sitting in his lap as we ate. The night was relaxing. We watched a movie together before we finally decided to go to bed. Jake was lying in bed as I brushed my teeth and stared at the box on the counter. I was torn. Jake and I never talked about kids, but it’s not something I ever saw myself having. I could never imagine myself as a mother. Once I finished brushing my teeth I grabbed the box, opening it and popping the pill out of the blister pack and popping it in my mouth. I stuck my mouth under the stream of water from the faucet and swallowed it. Once I was done and ready for bed I crawled in next to Jake who already had the lights off. I laid down and immediately his arms went around me, pulling my side into his chest. 

“Goodnight, darlin’.” I didn’t respond. I simply laid on my back and stared up at the ceiling as he held me. “I took the pill.” I whispered. It was quiet for a second before he spoke up. “Are you okay?” He asked, shifting so he could look at me. “Yeah. I just felt like you should know.” I told him and he smiled at me. “Like I told you, I’m following your lead here.” I turned to him. “So you’re not upset?” I asked and he shook his head. “I could never be upset at you for doing what you think is best.” He said and I stared at him for a minute before leaning in and kissing him softly. “I love you.” I told him. “I love you too, darlin’.” 

That week we managed to get an exterminator in there and someone to check for water damage. Everything in the house was fine and there were no more baby spiders, so Jake and I could finally breathe. It was early October and I was knee deep in studying for midterms. “Hey, darlin’.” I looked up to see Jake walking towards me. He was only in a pair of shorts, deciding to forgo a shirt which was very, very distracting. “Hi.” I said, going back to focus on my notes. Just after midterms we’ll start our clinicals and that has me on edge. “Can I have a moment of your time?” He asked. “Only a moment.” I said, grinning at him. “I wanted to talk to you about Halloween.” He said, sitting down across from me. I raised a brow at him as I copied another note. “Okay. What about it?” In truth, I haven’t thought about Halloween once. I got to trick or treat a few times as a kid but by the time I was nine, it stopped. We didn’t even hand out candy. My parents just pretended the holiday didn’t exist. “Do you have any preference on costumes?” He asked. “Um no. I didn’t think we were dressing up.” I said and he looked at me, shocked. 

“Not dressing up? We have Mav’s halloween party to go to! Then we have to hand out candy on Halloween! We have to dress up to give the kids candy!” He said. “Okay,” I said, a little surprised. “I don’t really have any ideas or preferences on costumes.” I told him, setting my pencil down. “Okay good, because I think we should go classic. Cowboy and Cowgirl.” He said, using his hands to make me see the ‘picture’. “I’m at a little disadvantage here. You have everything you need for that costume. I don’t.” I said and he shook his head. “That’s why we are going shopping after your midterms. Jeans and a shirt should be easy to find, boots and a hat will take a little longer.” I smiled at him. “I may already have a shirt. But we can go shopping for everything else.” I said and he seemed excited. “Great! We’re gonna be the best looking couple there!” He said, standing and kissing my cheek before he disappeared upstairs. 

Soon midterms came and I was shaking the morning of. Thankfully, we can fit all of our tests into one day but it was overwhelming. I got dressed and did my hair and makeup before going downstairs. “What are you still doing here?” I asked, shocked to see Jake in the kitchen. He’s supposed to be on base by six, which is when I get up. “I told Mav I would be a little late today.” I furrowed my brows, confused. “Why?” I asked just as the oven timer went off. “Because you have midterms today.” He said, pulling what smelled like egg bites out of the oven. “So you need a good breakfast.” He popped a few on a plate. “Some coffee.” He also slid a mug of coffee, just how I like it towards me. “And I wanted to make your lunch.” He said. “Oh, Jake.” I said as he slid my lunchbox closer. “And you need good luck kisses.” He came around the counter, taking me in his arms and kissing me until I was dizzy. “You’re amazing.” I said, kissing him again. “No, you are. You’re going to blow that test out of the water.” He said. 

“You didn’t have to stay home to do all this for me.” I said and he shook his head, walking back towards the fridge. “No, I wanted to, so I did.” He opened the fridge and reached inside before pulling out my water bottle and setting it next to my lunchbox. “I love you, have a good day and I’ll see you back here this evening.” He said, kissing me again before heading towards the door. “Absolutely amazing.” I muttered before taking a bite of my breakfast. Once I was done, I put the dishes in the dishwasher and grabbed my stuff, heading out the door. I rode to school quietly, trying to just breathe and keep myself calm. I walked inside with plenty of time to spare and I decided to go ahead and get into my classroom to get prepared. I was being very meticulous about my setup when Annie sat next to me. “How do you feel?” She asked and I let out a shaky breath. “Like I’m going to cry and throw up.” I replied. “Me too.” Brooke said, sitting on my other side. I took a sip of my water, visibly shaking. “Good morning, everyone.” One of our professors, Dr. Drakes said as he walked in. “Your microbiology exam is the longest, so we will be starting with that.” I shook some more. Microbiology was my worst subject and now I was terrified. “Good luck.” He told us before handing out our exams. 

I cried the whole way home. As soon as I got into the driveway I put the parking brake on and got out. I took my time gathering my things and tried to stop my tears before walking inside. Once I felt like I calmed down enough I got out of my truck, slowly making my way inside. But as soon as the door closed behind me the tears started. “Katie?” I could smell food cooking as he stepped out of the kitchen. “Hey, how’d it go?” He asked and I immediately started crying again. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” He asked and I dropped everything before rushing to him. I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing him as he wrapped his own arms around me. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his tone a little more serious. “I’m sorry.” I cried. “For what?” He asked, fingers running through my hair. “For failing.” I said. “You failed your tests?” He asked, holding me at arms length. “I think I did.” I said and he looked at me confused. “You think? So you haven’t gotten your results yet?” He asked and I shook my head. “No.” He chuckled, wiping the tears from my eyes. “Then you have no reason to stress.” I furrowed my brows in confusion. “You’re not mad?” I asked and he furrowed his brows. “No, why would I be?” He asked. “I think I failed Jake. That’s not good.” I said and he pulled me close again, kissing my forehead. “I don’t care if you did fail. That’s no reason for me to be mad at you, and you gave it your best shot. I could never be mad at you for doing your best.” He said. 

“Really?” I asked and he nodded, kissing my gently. “Yes, really. Now, why don’t you go shower? Dinner will be done in about an hour.” I sniffled and nodded before slowly making my way upstairs. I took my time in the shower and once I was done I slipped into one of Jake’s Longhorns shirts. I looked into the mirror, seeing my eyes were still puffy. I wet a rag and put cold water on my eyes for a moment before ringing out the rag and making my way downstairs. I was stunned at what I saw before me. The lights were off but candles were lit all over the room, there was music playing softly and Jake was setting plates on the dining room table. “You like it?” He asked, turning to me. I gave him a soft smile. “I don’t feel like I deserve it.” I said and he sighed, coming over and taking my hand. “Of course you do. You worked hard.” He said as he led me over to the table, pulling out my chair for me. I sat down, the smell of the steak wafting into my nose. “God this smells heavenly.” I said as he disappeared into the kitchen. He came back out a moment later, bottle and glasses in hand. “And champagne to celebrate.” He said. “Jake. I already said I don’t think I did well.” I told him and he smiled at me. “Well then, we’ll celebrate the fact that midterms are over.” He said, making me giggle as he filled my glass. He sat down, holding up his glass. “To peaceful days from here on out.” He said and I smiled, clinking my glass against his and taking a sip. 

“Jake, I don’t know.” I told him, looking in the mirror in the dressing room. “Come on, darlin’. It can’t be that bad.” He said and I sighed. “But I feel like it is!” I told him. “Just let me see.” I sighed before pushing open the dressing room door. Jake brought me down to a few western stores in San Diego to get me an outfit for Halloween. “Oh… my god.” He said and my cheeks grew warm. “I told you it was bad.” I said and he shook his head, standing from the chair. “No, no it’s not. You look… breathtaking.” He said. I sighed and turned to a mirror, looking at myself. The jeans were nice. They were light wash flare jeans that accentuate my curves. But the shirt was pushing my comfort zone. It was like a cropped corset, with bones in the front. It was a one shoulder top with a cut out on the chest. It looked like it just barely cupped my boobs and held them up. “I think you look gorgeous, darlin’.” He said, resting his hands on my waist before he kissed the back of my head. “You sure?” I asked. “Positive. How about this…” He said, turning me to face him. “We buy it. You try it on next week, and if you still don’t like it then we’ll get you something else.” He said and I nodded. 

I changed back into my dress and Jake carried the clothes as we looked at all of the boots. “See anything you like?” He asked. There were a bunch and they were beautiful. “I see a lot, but I don’t like this rounded toe. I like this square shape or the pointed ones.” I said and turned to find him smiling at me. “You have exquisite taste in boots.” He said. After another hour, and many boots later we found the pair I loved. The uppers were a deep brown color but the shaft was white and they were gorgeous, and surprisingly comfortable. “Alright, let’s check out.” He said and I furrowed my brows. “I thought you said I needed a hat too?” I asked and he chuckled. “You do, and I’ve got that covered.” He said, taking my hand and leading me up to the register. “So, you’ve seen my outfit. But I have no idea what yours looks like.” I said, resting my hand on my hip. “That’s because it’s a surprise, darlin’.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[lieutenantfloyd]

When Duty Calls Part 1 | Cyclone x Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Your return home brings you inner turmoil, prolonged typing bubbles, and what may turn out to be a chance to mend what you broke.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, a lot of internal thoughts/monologue, implied non-platonic feelings (if you squint).

a/n: This took a bit longer to get out than I’d hoped, but I’m so excited to have gotten the ball rolling!

Read on AO3

In your experience, one of the hardest parts of being back stateside is the noise. Both the quiet and the loud.

Your former home — An aircraft carrier somewhere in the middle of the Pacific — was by no means quiet, but each sound, each movement, each person, had its purpose. the low hum of radio chatter or the sound of planes taking off overhead had become a strange comfort to you. You were one of the lucky ones who quickly found where you belonged amongst that noise. Now after years spent painstakingly carving your name into the Naval history books, you were far from just another officer. And yet, in some twisted way, that glorious reputation of yours is exactly what brought you back here in the first place.

Exactly 23 hours ago you were still stationed on that aforementioned aircraft carrier, completely unaware that you would soon be summoned and informed — albeit with more eloquent verbiage — that you were to pack your things and head back to TOPGUN. A thousand different questions brewed inside you, but you were well aware that the Navy has never been the place to voice them. Instead, you honored each following set of instructions with nothing more than a simple "Yes sir, no ma'am".

The subsequent hours were filled with personal chaos and three different modes of transportation. Luckily, not much could phase you at this point. At least not enough for anyone to pick up on your external cues of panic. Contrary to the aviator stereotype, you liked to think of yourself as level-headed with a strong preference for flying under the radar, both in a literal and figurative sense. You'd weathered through everything the last 24 hours had thrown at you without so much as a snide remark. You kept your calm when the airline briefly lost your single piece of checked luggage. You even brushed off each lingering stare and every all too frequent ask of "So, Is your husband/brother/father/next-door neighbor in the service?". Yet, approximately three and a half minutes ago, something in you started to crack. Logic told you that this was just your nervous system coming to terms with what the next several weeks would entail, but an increasingly large part of your mind knew that that was only half the story. But seeing as you currently found yourself frozen in the back of your Uber, gripping the door handle as if your life depended on it, these facts were neither here nor there. As the latest wave of anxiety runs its course you suppress a shudder and call on your now-sapped willpower. Logic once again tells you that fresh air helps in these situations, so you force your pointer finger out and roll the window down. You hold the button until the window is right above halfway down. Just far enough to let the bright San Diego sunshine in while still allowing you to lean your head against the cool glass. After a few deep breaths, you run your tongue along the outside of your lips. The air is laced with the familiar taste of sea salt. If your memory served you right, you were just under a mile from the ocean and no more than three from base. The thought had barely crossed your mind before the pang of countless different emotions hit you. You silently curse your faultless sense of direction. In sudden need of a distraction, your free hand reaches into your bag and pulls out your phone. You blink away the dryness in your eyes before shifting your attention to the small screen which only takes a halfhearted tap to flash to life. You swipe through your notifications before tapping on the message that's been lingering in the back of your mind since the early hours of the morning.

I'm assuming you've been made aware of your latest assignment. received 7:13 am. — followed by — We hope your trip back goes well. received 7:26 am.

I landed about an hour ago, you text back. Headed home now.

It didn't surprise you that Warlock would be the first to reach out. Given his rank and location, he probably knew all about the mission. Plus, if you knew anything about the man, it was that he's always been the diplomatic type. From the stories you heard of their younger years, a part of you has always wondered if this is why his friendship with Cyclone worked so well.

Speaking of Cyclone, you click the back button and select his contact. Your last conversation with him — dated just one day before your deployment — quickly appears. God, had it really been almost five months since you last spoke? At this revelation, you sit staring at the screen for a few beats. You knew him and his personality far too well to expect him to welcome you back with open arms, but that didn't make the radio silence hurt any less. You want nothing more than to reach out, but with a shaky breath, you remind yourself that he's a horribly busy man with fewer personal relationships than you can count on one hand. However, this doesn't stop a flash of sadness from coursing through your body.

Exiting the text thread, you click on the only other new message. It's from an unsaved number and its contents inform you that everyone who's been called back is meeting up tonight at the Hard Deck. Just as you are about to send back a quick "thank you. Who is this?", something else pops into your mind and grabs your interest entirely. You quickly back out and tap on Warlock's contact. You read his second message again, Then at least five more times after that.

We hope your trip back goes well.

We?

You weren't one to get into the semantics of things, but the ambiguity of his word choice hung heavy over you. There was a possibility that he was innocently referring to himself and his wife. Yet there was an equal, and far more electrifying, chance that he was talking about himself and Cyclone. It was no secret to Warlock that the pair of you were, at least at one time, immensely close. That familiar itch returned to your fingertips, though this time you feared it would be here to stay. Over the last five months, You've been down this path countless times before. Yet each time it got harder and harder not to simply dial his number and ask about his day as if no time had passed at all. Reminding yourself that the chances of him picking up were firmly in the negative, you looked from your phone entirely and instead redirected your sights to the world outside. As you look up, The car rounds one last corner and the familiarity of your surroundings kicks into overdrive. The lump in your throat grows as both the ocean and your house come into view. Your heart swells as you realize your neighborhood hasn't changed a bit. You were fully prepared for your homecoming to be emotionally taxing, but what you hadn't prepared for was just how right it would all feel.

You come to a stop at the curb directly across from your house. You thank the driver as you exit, and a moment later your feet hit the concrete. Your hands are surprisingly steady against your luggage. The car slowly pulls away. You are left standing in your yard, phone in hand, staring up at your long-established home. The walk up the driveway is one you've made at least a thousand times. And something in you knows that it's the bittersweet familiarity of it all that finally allowed your one inescapable urge to take hold.

The rational side of your brain — the one you should be more inclined to listen to in this situation — told you that he's probably terribly busy doing all those terribly important Vice Admiral things he spent far too many hours a day doing. But the emotional side — the one that above all else, won't let you forget your history together — told you that all you really wanted was to hear his voice again. Or at very least get a few words of blunt (and often trenchant) encouragement. Your suitcase rolls over polished hardwood as you close the door behind you. The only thing you're greeted by is a stale silence. Your friends in the area had been kind enough to stop by while you were gone to ensure remained in working order, but that didn't make the stillness any easier to swallow.

Surely there's no harm in simply reaching out, right?

It was in that moment, standing with your back against the front door, that you hoisted up your white flag of defeat. Almost instantly your fingers were fast at work typing out your message before your conscience could reckon with how bad this idea was. Your words of choice were innocuous enough, yet you feel nothing but anguish the moment after you hit send.

Hey there. I know it's been… a while. You probably know I'm back in town on orders. If you have the time, I'd love to catch up. Sent >1min ago.

You kick your shoes off with a frustrated huff and immediately head for your bedroom. For what you lacked in the typical aviator ego, you made up for tenfold with split-second impulsiveness. On the bright side, you at least had the sense to leave the "I miss you so bad please respond" part unsaid. It's a short walk, and you toss your phone onto your bed once you're there with the full intention of taking a quick shower. Only, your phone lands face up. Leaving you watching in horror as your still unlocked screen proudly displays the typing bubbles on his end slowly appearing and disappearing.

Somewhere between bolting back out of the room and spending 45 minutes under the ice cold water coming out of your shower head, you pulled together a crude course of action. For the duration of your time here, you will do nothing but keep your head down, execute the mission, and be the Navy's perfect little flying angel. Somewhere between the lines of the damp post-it note you jotted this down on are the words "and no more attempts at reconnecting with the people you left in the past.". though even you know that even your best attempt at following that step will wind up unavailing at best. Post shower and with a slight semblance of a plan in place, you were already starting to feel like yourself again. Like every other mission, your ability to execute the plan would make or break you, and If the secrecy surrounding why exactly you were called back to Top Gun was anything to go off of you would have to be entirely focused and at your most cutthroat.

Exiting your room, you made your way to the front door where you quickly pulled on your boots and grabbed your keys from the dish in the entryway. The route from your house to the Hard Deck is one that's permanently etched into your mind. This wasn't the time nor the place to be making friends and in all honesty you wanted nothing more than to stay in and order takeout. However, you knew that you needed to scope out your competition as soon as possible.

You check the entryway mirror one last time before turning the knob and passing the threshold. You square your shoulders as you make the short walk to your car while also doing your best to ignore the growing feeling that the first of many wrenches is about to be thrown at your freshly made strategy.

Taglist: @luckyladycreator2, @katesmadness, @natasharomanoffisbaebby, @nobody7102, @idiomaticpunk, @thebeckyjolene, @paintballkid711, @simpledyiing, @barbiewritesstuff, @bbooks-and-teas, @starshipfantasy, @saramaple, @marchingicenotes7, @bayisdying, @princessofglitterland, @katesmadness, @shakira-sasha, @xoxabs88xox, @nyx2021, @qardasngan, @fanboyluvr, @mrsjaderogers, @bellamy1998, @alexxavicry, @madamemelancholysstuff, @autumnleaves1991-reads, @dozcan123, @nani-kenobi, @noxytopy, @accio-boys, @the-winter-marvel33, @justameresimp, @abaker74, @starlightmoon2020, @comfortzonequeen, @flrboyd, @heyitskay-21, @kmc1989, @kkrenae (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 1: Prologue of Mastermind

A/N: And we're off! Here's the prologue, so I hope you all enjoy it! I'll be posting chapter 2 next week :)

December 8th, 1941

Everyone would remember where they were when the news hit the radios.  When every single person in the United States came to a halt, stopping whatever work they were doing, whatever conversation they were having, and just sat and listened to President Franklin D. Roosevelt speak about the attack. 

Ruth Sharpe had just finished helping her parents with breakfast when the breaking news had hit the radio station.  “Sit down, Ruthie!” Her mother hissed, tugging on her arm.  But Ruth couldn’t bring herself to sit down.  So she just stood there, clutching at the kitchen sink as she listened to the horrific news. 

“Yesterday, December 7, 1941 a date which will live in infamy, the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.

The United States was at peace with that Nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its Government and its Emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific. Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American Island of Oahu, the Japanese Ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. And while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.” 

This was war—Ruth knew it in her bones.  Her mother had burst into tears as she sunk into a kitchen chair.  Her father sat solemn, eyes trained blankly on a wall.  It was war all over again, and he had already served and done his time. 

Everyone in the Sharpe home was silent.  Even Mary, Alice, and Sarah—all of whom frequently argued with one another about nylons or lipstick and having to share—they were all completely and deadly silent. 

“It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time the Japanese Government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.” 

There would be no peace.  Ruth knew that.  They had watched the news-reports closely.  All of their family in Europe had already disappeared in the wake of the spreading Nazi agenda.  All of their cousins, all of their grandparents, there was no sign of them.  Their letters returned unopened and the horror had already struck the Sharpe family in deeply personal ways.  

But for Japan to attack?  That hadn’t been what Ruth was expecting. 

“The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.” 

Silence crackled in the home.  And Ruth watched as the next oldest sibling rose to his feet—Jonah was practically tearing towards the door.  “Where are you going?” Their mother spluttered out. 

He just locked a solemn gaze onto the rest of the family.  “There’s going to be a war.  I’m not going to sit here and wait to be drafted.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When war broke out in 1941, both Jonah and her younger brother John were old enough to enlist in the war.  John had just turned 18 in September and so it was no surprise when both of the boys took off to go and enlist.  It had damn near broken their mother’s heart, the thought of her boys going out and fighting in the war. 

As for their father?  He had been unnaturally quiet.  Thomas Sharpe had changed after fighting in the First World War.  Of course, he had been married when he went away and they had had Ruth quickly after—but Ruth remembered early childhood days when loud noises would make him retreat into her parents’ room, quiet tears and loud noises spilling from his mouth.  The quiet store-owner rarely raised his voice and tended to keep to himself. 

Ruth hadn’t known anything different her entire life.  But she thought, for just a moment, her father might have been angry about both Jonah and John signing up to fight in a war.  Her father hadn’t gotten mad though.  

He had started praying, silent tears streaming down his face when it was just their mother and Ruth around.  So when everyone gathered in churches and began praying for their sons and brothers, husbands and fathers—those who were going to fight, the entirety of the Sharpe family had shown up for the event. 

And they weren’t the only ones.  There were other families with boys who had decided to go off and fight.  And as some sort of last hurrah—one of the oldest members of the synagogue had invited a large gathering of people with sons going off to fight to his home.  

Truth be told, Ruth found the entire thing just sad .  Boys who would have to go and kill and become something that they didn’t want to be in order to stop a monstrosity.  In order to defend and protect their families and their homes and their beliefs in God.  But it had to be done.  She felt it like some sort of righteous ancestral fury rising up in her bones.  Because it wasn’t just their fight, it was her fight too.  

It was almost too joyful here, in this home.  Not when Ruth knew that most of these boys would likely not come home.  Not when she knew that it was going to be horrific.  War was merciless and some oncoming storm that they were wholly unprepared for. 

She slipped out of the party, coming to a stop on the fire escape and pulling a cigarette from her bag.  It was a poor habit and one that her parents were unaware that she had developed since entering Brooklyn Law.  But a girl had to de-stress somehow and she wasn’t about to start sleeping around to get her relaxation. 

Watching the streets of Brooklyn, Ruth wasn’t quite sure what to make of things.  The world had inherently and chemically changed on a cellular level.  But on the surface, everything looked exactly the same.  Snow was still falling in the December air and people were still chaotically driving in the streets below.  But inside homes across the country, mothers were weeping and families were saying goodbye in so many different ways. 

Something sounded in the window behind her and Ruth glanced, an annoyed expression crossing her features as she caught sight of Rosenthal climbing out.  “Oh—I uh—I didn’t know anyone was out here,” Rosenthal apologized, glancing back at the party. 

He was seriously considering just risking his life by standing here in the presence of Ruth Sharpe.  It was better than the party, even if it somehow ended in his unfortunate murder. 

Ruth removed her cigarette from her lips, staring him down.  “It’s better than in there.  It’s just loud.” 

“Yeah.” Robert rocked on the backs of his heels, gaze washing over his classmate with a frown.  “When did you start smoking?” 

“Freshman year.  You want one?” Ruth questioned, offering a cigarette in his direction.  He just stared suspiciously at the cigarette.  “I didn’t poison it, you nitwit.” 

“Ouch, rude,” Robert snatched the cigarette from her hands, shaking his head at her.  “I guess I also shouldn’t tell your ma’ that you were bein’ rude?” 

“Probably not,” Ruth retorted.  Her gaze trained back on the city and the twinkling lights that were still as bright as they were in the daylight.  “I take it that you’re signing up, too?” 

“Yeah, yeah I am.  I’m hopin’ for the air force.” 

“Hm,” Ruth mused.  “Well that’s a damn shame, Rosenthal.  Who am I going to compete with in cases now?” 

Robby Rosenthal gave a light laugh, shaking his head at her.  “I’m sure you’ll find someone to disagree with. You’re the most argumentative person that I know.” 

“Oh I’m aware.  And if you can handle me, then you’ll be able to handle whatever those Japs or Germans throw at you,” Ruth insisted pointedly.  “Consider it the real part of training.” 

“Blessings in disguise, I guess,” Robby said, leaning against the bricked apartment wall behind him.  “Your brothers sign up too?” 

“Both Jonah and John,” Ruth said in a slightly bitter tone.  “Abe would if he was old enough, but seeing as how he’s turning 14, I don’t think that’ll pass.” 

“He and Daniel have the same idea.  Everyone wants to get in on it,” Robert mused.  His younger brother Daniel also wanted to participate in the war effort, but he was only 16.  He still had a good two years to go before he’d be able to even sign up.  

“Risa will miss you,” Ruth said quietly.  

“She’s a tough kid. She’ll be okay,” Robert murmured.  “So I take it you’re going to prosecute the hell out of people here?” He shifted his gaze back onto the abnormally friendly Ruth— Ruth was never nice, that was just a fact .  It was a miracle they were speaking in level tones at the moment, honestly. 

“Not a chance, Robby,” Ruth said in a pointed tone.  “I’m thinking of going JAG-Corp.” 

“How are you gonna get your ma’ to sign off on that?” 

“I won’t tell her,” Ruth murmured.  “Same way you didn’t tell your folks about losing the highest grades to me this past year.” 

A small smile crossed Robby’s face.  “If you’re gonna prosecute and help in the war, then you give them hell, alright?” 

“Only if you do the same,” Ruth insisted.  “I need someone to compete with when this war is over, you know.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Robby glanced back inside.  “I better go before someone spots us together outside.  Last thing we want is rumors spiraling.” 

“That was your fault,” Ruth said pointedly.  “Last year, I mean.” 

“Sure it was.” The two of them had been caught in an intense argument about ethics by their mothers, who had a sewing circle—and their mothers had assumed it was a lovers’ quarrel, which couldn’t have been further from the truth, quite honestly. They had both blamed the other person for the supposed rumors and it hadn’t been much fun trying to detangle themselves from such a thing. 

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll find someone who will actually tolerate you, Rosenthal,” Ruth snarked.  

“And maybe you’ll actually figure out how to navigate a relationship.” 

“The day pigs fly,” Ruth gave a mock-salute, rolling her eyes at him.  “Now go on, be a good little boy and stamp out your cigarette.” 

Robby’s jaw ticked as he stared her down.  “You’re gonna get some poor schmuck killed one day, you know that?  And maybe he’d be better off.” 

She placed a hand over her heart.  “Tender, truly.  Well if I were your wife, I’d drink poison.” 

“The feeling’s mutual, sweetheart.” 

And with that, Robby Rosenthal disappeared back inside the window—leaving Ruth sitting out there on the fire escape and wondering how the hell she was going to get herself into the JAG-Corp.

[k-marzolf]

Diet Mountain Dew.

Neighbors to lovers, mechanic!Billy, reader is thirsty, Billy is cocky, kissing, fluff, fem!reader.

1,284 words.

x

It started where you’d come by, and help give him tools, “Here, Mister Russo.” You’d say, sweetly.

And if he said he didn’t imagine you calling him Mister Russo in different circumstances, he’d be lying.

You smiled, pushing up your large glasses, as though you knew, twirling the tools in your hand, and blowing bubbles with your gum, and changing his radio station to country music of all things.

He turned it back to rock, and you popped another bubble. “I was listening to that.”

“I don’t care. My garage, my music.” He said, lifting the hood of the car.

“You’re kind of an asshole, aren’t you?”

“Took you long enough to figure it out.” He smirked over his shoulder.

You rolled your eyes.

One day he was getting ready to leave when you popped your gum, blowing another bubble, waiting for him to take you home in the cold weather. You often popped into your neighbor's work to chat with him, while you waited for him to get off work. His business was near the bookstore where you worked, and he’d drive you home every day so you didn’t have to walk home with your bad knee, especially with winter right around the corner.

He wiped his hand off of the grease on an old cloth, “Need a ride home?”

You smiled softly, “Yes, Mister Russo.” And then popped your gum again.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. “You pop that gum one more time, we’re gonna have a problem.” He said, baring his teeth.

You blew a bubble, popping it.

The audacity.

He growled, kissing you hard, pushing into your mouth, knocking your glasses askew, and making you gasp. He pulled back, with your gum in his mouth, and spit it out in the trash.

“I wasn’t done chewing.” You said indignant.

“You are now, baby.” He smirked, closing the garage down.

You followed him with your cane, “Asshole.”

Billy watched you apply your chapstick that was root beer flavored while he took a wheel off a car. “That actually work, or does it just taste good?”

You huffed, “It works.” You blotted your lips. “Wanna taste, Mister Russo?” You teased, puckering up.

He held up his can of soda, “I’m good.”

You sighed, “Too bad. I would have given you a kiss for a dollar.” You teased lightly.

“Jesus, in my day it was fifty cents.” He teased back.

“I’m expensive.” You laughed.

Billy huffed, “Clearly.”

You stood in the hall outside your neighbor’s apartment with your cane, knocking on his door. Your leg ached.

He opened it, “Yeah?” He asked admiring you in your sweater dress, the way your hair was done up nice. He wanted to brush it, and play with it.

“My stove won’t work.” You said softly. “Can you come look at it?” You asked, pushing your glasses up, your sweater sleeves too long for your arms, and hung over your hands a little.

“For a dollar.” He grinned, laughing, when you hit arm.

You ate chocolates, while he bent over your stove, looking at it and mumbling to himself.

You admired him in his tight dark jeans and green sweater. You may or may not have found things around your apartment wrong, just so he’d come over. So you wouldn’t have to be alone. Always alone, friends were hard to come by being disabled. You slowed them down.

You were too shy to ask him to have a movie night or something. And sometimes you just wanted to sit and read a book with your feet in his lap, while he read his own book, enjoying each other's company.

And he caught you at it, too. “You want me to come over, baby, I will. Don’t need an excuse to see a pretty girl.”

Your cheeks heated, and he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

You sat there in his work garage watching him work on some old Chevy or something, you were terrible with cars, admiring how his sweater slid up exposing his naval and the little patch of hair there, you twirled a wrench or whatever it was, in your hand itching to touch him.

You pressed your thighs together, as he slid out from underneath the car, hands looking greasy, his sweater pulled up around his elbows. You imagined him staining your thighs with his handprints as he kissed you.

You imagined running your fingers through his soft hair, always slicked back and faded on the sides, before pulling on it while he kissed you, probably tasting like the soda he drank. And then you imagined pulling on his hair for an entirely different reason.

He looked over at you, smirking as he sipped his soda, fingers stained from working on the car. Uh oh. He must have noticed you gawking. He rolled over to you, sitting at your level on the thing he’d rolled under the car with (you were at a loss for the terminology), in his maroon sweater and black jeans.

“Want somethin’, baby?” Billy asked, looking cocky.

“No.” You said, shyly.

“No?” Billy asked, smiling growing. He leaned closer, and you instinctively leaned in too. “Gotta be a good girl and ask for what you want.” He teased you.

“Mister Russo, you’re being an asshole.” You whined, seriously considering whacking him on the head with the wrench-thingy.

He laughed; “I think we both already know I’m an asshole.” He said, booping you on the nose with his dirty fingers.

“Can I have a kiss?” You asked, sweetly. “I helped give you tools all day. Froze my leg off here.” You said, patting your leg.

“For a dollar.” He smirked.

You glared, “Fine, I’ll just kiss Paul down the hall.”

Billy huffed, “You think mama’s boy can kiss you right?” Billy asked, rolling closer.

God, he was being an asshole, but Paul was a mama’s boy. He did nothing without his mother’s help.

“Mister Russo.” You whined, “Don’t you wanna taste the root beer on my lips?”

“C’mere.” Billy hummed, and you leaned into him eagerly. He kissed you this time, making your insides melt, his fingers touching your thighs making you sigh. He gripped them, and yanked you closer, careful of your bad leg.

You gasped into his mouth, tasting Diet Mountain Dew on him. The feel of his tongue sliding against yours had desire licking at your insides.

You pulled on his hair roughly, making him groan into your mouth, and an ache built between your thighs.

He pulled back kissing you once, twice, three times before nudging you with his nose. “You taste real sweet, baby. Better than root beer.” He husked.

And then you looked down to see your legs stained with grease, and oil. You grinned inwardly, that had been your intention all along.

“Sorry, baby.” He said, not sounding sorry at all.

You giggled, “Next time I bake, I’m getting flour all over you.” You threatened.

Billy grinned.

God, you made work go by easily.

Later after he drove you home, you shyly invited him into your apartment, and you both ended up on your couch, you laying back, with him laying between your thighs, chin resting on your stomach while you played with his hair, listening to an audiobook.

He looked like a lazy cat, enjoying petting from his favorite human. His eyes were hooded as he watched you, feeling wanted after a childhood unwanted in the group home.

For the first time, you didn’t feel like a burden, alone with only the characters in your books to keep you company.

You didn’t know what you and Billy were, but you were content to let it unfold.

x

Tags; @idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate @aoi-targaryen

[planesawesome]

VF-94 Mighty Shrikes

Strike Fighter Squadron 94 (VFA-94), also known as the Mighty Shrikes, is a United States Navy fighter squadron stationed at Naval Air Station Lemoore. It is an operational fleet squadron currently flying the F/A-18E Super Hornet. It is attached to Carrier Air Wing 17 (CVW 17) and based at NAS Lemoore, California. Its tail code is "NA" and its radio call sign is "Hobo".

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Chapter 5: You Will Always Have My Heart

Eugene Roe x Violet Elwood

Summary: Eugene didn’t know that love could hurt so much, until he met Violet and then all he could think about was her. As Violet’s condition worsens, Eugene grows to realise just how fragile love is. Warnings: mentions of hospitals, critically ill oc, heart break, grief, death

November 20th 1941

Eugene tapped his foot against the cool, tiled floor of the hospital waiting room, knocking along to Artie Shaw on the radio on the nurses station. Violet was in for a check up with the Cardiologist but she’d been gone a little while now and the longer she was away the more anxious Eugene became.

A few minutes later, Violet pushed open the large double doors and made her way down the corridor to greet him, pulling him in for a hug.

“What happened? What did the doctor say? What’s the…?”

“Eugene calm down,” Violet laughed, pulling back from his arms and cupping his cheek, “Everything’s fine, well as fine as things can be. I’m fine, Gene.” She reassured him, pressing her lips to his. He melted into the kiss, the thoughts rushing through his mind slowed as her lips moved on his own.

“But what…” kiss “did the…” kiss “Vi…” kiss. Eugene gave up trying to speak and instead kissed Violet back firmly, his hand coming to rest on her lower back.

“You talk too much, Gene,” she grinned, smoothing her fingers through his dark locks, playfully pulling at the strands and causing him to sigh at the contact.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Vi,” he mumbled, burying his head into her neck and holding her close.

“I’m afraid that I’ll be the one dying first, Gene,” she smiled sadly, holding him close to her.

The hustle and bustle of the hospital faded around them and nothing else mattered in that moment. All Eugene could concentrate on was the woman in his arms, the woman he loved so dearly.

Violet felt a small tear trailing down her cheek as Eugene held her. She hated lying to him but she knew how upset he’d be if she told him the truth. At least this way they could still enjoy their time together without having the time limit the doctor expected hanging over them. Violet tried to push the doctor's words from her mind as Eugene led her from the hospital and towards the bus stop. She hated being so reliant on other people but as simple daily tasks grew ever harder and even breathing was an effort she knew she didn’t have much choice. As they took their seat on the bus, the exertion of the morning caught up with her and she slipped into a dreamless sleep in Eugene’s arms.

December 8th 1941

Violet was sleeping peacefully in her hospital bed, the early morning light creeping through the blinds, illuminating her pale features. She looked tired, with dark, purple circles painted underneath her bright, blue eyes, her cheeks hollowed and her cheekbones protruding more than they used to. But she was still his beautiful girl, Eugene thought to himself as he pushed her blonde locks from her forehead.

The radio was buzzing dramatically in the corner and Eugene stood to move closer, turning up the volume as the president, Franklin D Roosevelt’s voice filled the room.

‘Yesterday, December 7, 1941 a date which will live in infamy the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.’

Eugene froze beside the radio, listening to the president addressing Congress. The speech continued and he took a seat beside the radio, turning up the volume and listening as the president's words resonated with him.

‘The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost.’

His words flowed out of the radio, sickening everyone in the hospital, no one walked past the door.

‘I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire’

Eugene took in a sharp breath, the US had declared war on Japan. They were going to war. What would that mean for him? For Violet? Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, Violet stirred under the covers.

“Gene?” She mumbled sleepily and he was by her side in an instant, smoothing his hand over her cheek.

“I’m here, Sweetheart. I’m here. How are you feeling?” He crouched beside her bed, resting his head on their clasped hands.

“My… chest hurts,” she mumbled, her eyes sliding shut before she opened them again. She had a procedure the other day and it had taken its toll on her, she was weaker now. Every day seemed like a struggle and he heard one of the nurses mention it was unlikely that she’d be going home again.

“I know, Sweetheart,” Eugene moved so he could lay on the bed beside her and she snuggled against his chest. He could feel her heart beating slowly beside him, lub dub, lub dub.

“What was on the radio?” Violet asked, glancing up at Gene.

He smiled sadly at her, unsure of how to break the news to her, “You know Pearl Harbour was attacked?”

She nodded slowly. “Well the US has declared war on Japan.”

Violet pushed herself up carefully so she could face him properly, “Does that… does that mean you’ll have to go? Go to war?”

Eugene shook his head, “I don’t know yet, but I promise I’m not leaving you unless I have to. You hear me?”

Violet smiled, reaching up but Eugene craned his neck so she could reach his lips easily, planting a small kiss before laying back down.

Violet soon slipped back into her slumber but Eugene couldn’t rest, his mind drifting to the President’s words. What would that mean for his future?

December 11th 1941

“Good mornin’, Sweetheart,” Eugene greeted her, a bunch of flowers in his hand as he moved around the bed, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

“Good mornin’, Gene, she smiled weakly, reaching out her hand to hold his. He squeezed it gently, pulling up a chair to sit beside her bed. “How are you feelin’ today?”

“She shrugged her shoulders, “Same as yesterday, Gene.”

Eugene nodded slowly, she’d been having a bad week, lots of chest pains, lots of episodes of breathlessness. She was now on oxygen full time and had a nurse coming in every half an hour to monitor her vitals.

Eugene knew that things weren’t going to get better than this, they could only get worse. One of the nurses warned him that she may eventually slip into a coma if she became too weak. It broke his heart to see her suffering so much. She barely ate, most of her nutrition was given via liquid food, and she could barely move. Eugene had taken her for a walk around the hospital grounds in a wheelchair the other day and it was nice to see her smile again.

“How’s your family?” Violet asked, raining her head from the pillow to glance at him, her blue eyes shining brighter than ever but the rest of her seemed to be fading faster by the day.

“They’re okay. They said they’ll be poppin’ by later to see you. Wanted to check on you,” Eugene reassured her. He picked up her hairbrush from the bedside cabinet, smoothing it carefully through her blonde locks. She’d always taken such care of her hair, always neatly curled and pinned, but now it lay flat against her head, lifeless.

“Thank you, Gene. For everything.”

“Of course. I love you, of course I’m gonna look after you,” he pressed his lips against her forehead and she sighed sleepily. “Do you want me to go so you can get some rest?”

“No, no please stay,” Violet shuffled cautiously across the bed to make room for Eugene, “Will you hold me for a while.”

Eugene smiled widely at her, “Of course, Sweetheart.” He slid in easily beside her, wrapping his body around her tiny, weak frame.

December 14th 1941

“I’m afraid it’s not good news, Eugene,” Violet's father explained.

The family were sitting in the waiting room, her mother and sister crying quietly in the corner. Her father had tears in his eyes but he was fighting them, trying to remain strong for his family's sake.

“The doctors don’t think she has long. I’m so sorry, son.” Violet’s father placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before moving back to be with his family.

Eugene was frozen to the spot, the noise of the hospital fading around him into a blur of white noise. The flowers he’d been clutching fell limp to the floor, their petals splaying across the tiles. His mouth was dry, air barely reaching his lungs before it escaped in a sharp breath. He felt his knees buckle, hitting the ground hard, but he didn’t notice the pain. He didn’t feel anything, not anymore.

December 16th 1941

Violet’s breaths were short and shallow, her eyes closed as she rested peacefully against Eugene’s shoulder. Her family all sat around her, their eyes rimmed red and puffy. They had all cried enough over the last few days that Eugene thought he’d never cry again. How could he ever cry over anything else when the worst possible thing had already happened?

“Gene,” Violet mumbled weakly, causing Eugene to jump slightly.

“Yes, Vi.”

“I don’t want to die here, not in this hospital,” she glanced up at him, her hand cupping his cheek. “I want to go back to the lake, it’s our place. I want to go back to the lake, Gene.”

Eugene looked down at her sadly, “We can’t go the lake, Sweetheart. You’re not well enough.”

“Gene, I’m never going to get any better than this. The worst thing that could happen is that I’d die and I’m dying anyway,” she retorted, she understood his anxiousness but at the same time she needed to do this, it was her last chance.

Eugene glanced up at Violet’s family, trying to gauge their reaction. Eugene’s father stood up, giving Eugene a curt nod.

“I’ll bring the car around.”

The drive to the lake was a short one. By the time Eugene had carried Violet out to the car and her mother had carried out her oxygen bottle, her father had brought the car around.

They all bundled in, no one moaning about the tight squeeze or the stuffy air. Violet was sitting on his lap, clinging tightly to the front of his shirt.

“Thank you, Gene, she mumbled, pressing her lips gently to his neck. Eugene had to fight back the tears as he looked down at her, trying to steady his breathing so she didn’t realise he was crying.

When the car pulled up as close to the lake as they could, Violet’s family hurried out of the car, helping carry the oxygen as Eugene carried Violet. They picked a quiet spot, the same spot where Eugene and Violet had their second date.

Violet’s mother lay down a blanket from the back of the car, laying it on the grass so they could sit down. Eugene sat down first so that Violet could sit between his legs, leaning against his chest.

Violet’s mother hovered behind them until her father ushered her away. “Give them some time, Love. She wants to be with Eugene.”

Eugene watched as they walked back to the car, he knew he was hurting but how much pain must they be in losing their eldest daughter?

The sun was hanging low in the sky, just like it had been on their second date. It cast a bright orange glow, like the sky was burning, a lit the flames. The lake itself glowed orange, reflecting the setting sun's rays. It felt as though the whole world was alight.

Eugene grasped Violet’s hands, wrapping them in his own and pulling them close to their chests. He could feel her heartbeat, weak but steady beneath his hands. He could feel her breaths, short and sharp.

“It’s so beautiful,” Violet whispered, her eyes shining brightly in the setting sun and it reminded Eugene of the old Violet before she was sick. The time when they had everything to live for.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled into her hair, burying his face and taking a long, deep breath. She didn’t smell like she used to, of roses and lavender. She smelled clinical, like the hospital. It was as if that place had drained the life from her instead of trying to save it. “You’re perfect.”

“But my heart’s not, that’s far from perfect. I’m sorry my heart wasn’t good enough” she mumbled, glancing up at Eugene, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be perfect for you, Eugene.

Eugene but back a sob, “No, no don’t you ever say that. You are perfect, Violet. God, you are so perfect. Your heart was all I could have ever asked for. I love you so much.” He pulled her in tighter so that she was sat in his lap, her head resting against the crook of his neck.

“I wish we could have had longer,” Violet cried, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed, her breath becoming short, small gasps escaping her. Eugene placed the oxygen mask over her mouth, rubbing her back comfortingly as she coughed.

“It’s okay, Vi. It’s alright. We had the time that God decided for us and it was the best time of my life. I love you so much, don’t ever forget that.”

Violet nodded slowly, unable to speak as she breathed as best she could through the oxygen mask. He placed his lips on her forehead, kissing her lightly as he closed his eyes and began to hum quietly. Violet's breathing became slower, shallower as he hummed and she relaxed into him.

Eugene smoothed his hand over her hair, watching as her blue eyes slid closed, small breaths leaving her lips. “It’s okay, Violet. It’s okay to let go, I’ve got you now.” He whispered into her ear, rocking her slowly, “I love you.”

Violet’s body relaxed in his arms, her breathing slowed until it became inaudible, and her heartbeat slowed beneath his hand.

“Thank you, Gene. Thank you for loving me,” she whispered, taking one last deep breath before she fell silent, slipping away from the world. Eugene watched as her body relaxed, her ragged breathing stilled and her heartbeat stopped under his hand. She looked so peaceful, her face no longer lined with worry, but her flesh smooth over her gaunt features. She was finally at peace.

Eugene’s tears flowed freely now, he didn’t want her to see him crying, didn’t want her last memory to be of him in a state, but now he could. He didn’t hold anything back, clutching her lifeless body as if she could anchor him to this world as he fell apart.

“Goodbye Violet,” he sobbed, “I love you.”

December 20th 1941

Eugene bundled some belongings into his kit bag, mainly a few spare pairs of clothes, some smart shoes, and a book for the train journey. His parents were going to drop him off at the station to start his journey to basic training. He’d never managed to tell Violet he’d enlisted on December 12th, it seemed so far away at the time.

His parents were waiting outside as he collected up his last few things, shoving the photo of his family into his book so it wouldn’t become damaged.

The scrapbook Violet gave him for his birthday sat on his bedside table, pride of place. He’d looked through the photos every night since she passed, reading over her words of encouragement. She knew him so well. Each phrase or paragraph made him smile, they got him through each day without her.

As he turned over the final page of the book he noticed a white piece of paper sticking out the edge of the book. He pulled it free, unfolding the paper and revealing a letter written in Violet’s hand. Eugene felt the scrapbook fall from his hands and onto his bed. His eyes trained on the letter.

To My Dearest Eugene,

By the time you read this letter, I will be gone. I wish we could have had more time together, but then all of the time in the world would still not have been enough.

To be loved by you was the greatest treasure of my life. You are a special man Eugene Roe. You filled my life with light and I don’t want you to hide that light from the world. I want you to show the world how wonderful you are Eugene and you have to promise me that you will love again. I know that there is someone else out there for you and I want you to find her. She will be so lucky to have you Gene.

Thank you for everything Eugene, thank you for making me feel special and for loving me despite knowing our ending. I wish you all the luck in the world, my love. I love you with all my heart.

Yours always

Violet

Eugene didn’t find the usual tears slipping down his face but instead, a wide smile spread across his lips. He folded the letter, placing it alongside the picture of himself and Violet, before doing up his kit bag and sliming it over his shoulder. He gave one last glance at his childhood bedroom, unsure of when he would next see it. He walked down the familiar stairs and along the corridor. He looked back at the house he had occupied for the last 20 years, filled with so many memories.

“Thank you, Violet.” He closed the door, following his way down the familiar path and towards the car. He’d soon be in another State on a very different path than he’d imagined but at least he knew that no matter what Violet would be watching over him.

Tags: @blueberry-ovaries @mads-weasley @coco-bean-1218 @she-wolf09231982 @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @allthingsimagines @bucky32557038ww2 @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt @xxluckystrike @hogwartslegacypics @softguarnere

[xthewhiteravenx]

Fanfic Ideas I Probably Will Never Write: Solby Top Gun AU

“ Revvin' up your engine Listen to her howlin' roar Metal under tension Beggin' you to touch and go Highway to the Danger Zone ”

[ Spotify Playlist HERE ]

Sam Golbach

Lieutenant 

Navy

Call Sign: Ghost

Colby Brock

Lieutenant

Navy

Call Sign: Wolf

The Naval air station's hangar upon Long Beach was bathed in the harsh glow of overhead lights. They cast elongated shadows across the sleek fighter jets neatly aligned in rows. Usually, the light bothered the pilots, but tonight it signaled only that they were to have fun.

Lieutenant Sam Golbach, known by his call-sign amongst the crew as "Ghost" because of his elusive and skillful maneuvers, stood next to his jet. He ran his hand along its smooth surface, fingers brushing over the emblem of his call sign painted on the frame. He cooed at his jet, praising it like it were an animal.

Just as he finished his pre-flight checks that involved said cooing, the familiar voice of Lieutenant Colby Brock (known as "Wolf") echoed through the hangar. Colby approached, an easy swagger in his step and a cocky grin on his lips as he put his bomber jacket on. His insignia's shined brightly in the lights.

"Ready to see how a real pilot flies, Ghost?" Colby quipped, offering a mocking salute.

Sam raised an eyebrow as he raised his head away from his jet. Not one to back down from a challenge, he called out, "I've seen your version of 'real flying,' Brock," and he cat-called, "It's definitely something."

A charged exchange of glances spoke volumes – their rivalry was all in good fun, but the competitive spark burned bright between them.

Colby's grin only widened, "You won't be saying that when you're eating my exhaust fumes, baby."

With a shared smirk and unspoken understanding, they turned and climbed into their respective fighter jets. Sam tried not to think about how he had Wolf's tongue down his throat the night before.

Inside the cockpit of his jet, Sam adjusted his headset with practiced ease. His heart raced with a mix of excitement and determination. Colby's voice crackled through the radio.

"Hey! Ghost! Don't get too distracted by my dazzling ass up there," Colby's voice teased.

Sam chuckled, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm, "Oh, don't worry, Wolfy. I'll do my best to keep my eyes on the horizon and away for your ass."

One by one, their jets took off from the flight deck. High above the expanse of the open ocean, they streaked through the night sky like shooting stars. Sam and Colby executed daring rolls, loops, and tight turns in perfect sync, a breathtaking ballet of man and machine. The two dared each other to races and mock dog fights. Of course, the Tower screamed at them for being reckless, but neither cared.

In the cockpit of his own jet, Colby's grin was audible in his voice, "Admit it, Ghost, I've got your heart racing up here."

Sam's fingers tightened around the controls. He smirked, determined not to let Colby gain the upper hand so easily, "Keep dreaming! Let's not forget who still holds the high score at the arcade."

"Oh you're asking for it now, baby! Don't threaten me with my scores!"

Their jets skimmed the surface of the ocean, performing gravity-defying maneuvers that left trails of whitecaps in their wake. The moonlight danced on the water below, mirroring their intricate moves.

In the cockpit of his jet, Colby's voice broke through the radio again, a mix of exhilaration and competitiveness, "You're good, Ghost. But I'm better."

Sam's eyes narrowed playfully as he initiated a daring nosedive, the wind roaring past his cockpit, "Prove it, Wolf."

As the night sky enveloped them, the two jets continued their electrifying performance, pushing the boundaries of both physics and skill. Each move was executed with precision and finesse, a testament to their years of training and undeniable talent.

Colby's voice crackled through the radio again, a mixture of triumph and laughter when he took aim at Sam's jet, "I told you, Ghost. I'm always one step ahead."

Sam's grin matched the sentiment, a mix of admiration and competitiveness in his expression, "There's always next round. What do you say to me down on my knees, darling?"

"I'll race you back."

And with that unspoken promise, the jets streaked away into the obsidian canvas of the night, leaving behind a trail of stardust as their rivalry continued to soar to new heights.

[archivist-crow]

On this day:

SIGNALS FROM OUTER SPACE

On June 4, 1956, Washington State's naval observatory believed it had made radio contact with the planet Venus, picking up weak signals identified by its colossal radio-telescope. The following month Ohio State University also reported picking up radio signals from Venus.

Radio astronomer Dr. John D. Kraus said that the waves received were Class Two, quite different from Class One waves that were commonly caused by thunderstorms. At first the signals were thought to be freak interference from a local station, but the abundance of times and variations at which they were picked up when the telescope beam was trained exactly on Venus led to a revised conclusion. Since the invention of radio waves, transmissions believed to originate on Venus have been intermittently received on Earth.

Experience of the celestial signals began in the early 1900s. Guglielmo Marconi, inventor of wireless telegraphy, was on his yacht in the Mediterranean when he began to pick up signals on a surprise frequency, which he regarded as a code. Nikola Tesla, the electrical wizard, also reported picking up the cryptic codes from space at his laboratory in Colorado. In 1924, radio engineers reported and recorded intelligently directed chirps and chatters. A year later, according to Frank Edwards in his book Strangest of All, experiments recording wireless signals on film revealed that the bizarre signals "arrived in such fashion that they recorded in the form of caricature faces."

In 1958 scientists tracked a transmitting device traveling in space in excess of 9,000 mph en route to the moon. The device alternately slowed down and sped up before veering away from the moon and out into deep space. Its signals were picked up for three-hour periods, day after day, at a time when there were no manmade satellites in orbit.

Text from: Almanac of the Infamous, the Incredible, and the Ignored by Juanita Rose Violins, published by Weiser Books, 2009

[usafphantom2]

IMAGES: U.S. Navy and Air Force recreate iconic scene from the 1970s

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 01/13/2024 - 21:39in Military

The U.S. Navy and Air Force recently recreated a famous photo from the 1970s to highlight the national asset that is the R-2508 test field in Southern California.

The photo, which shows a Navy F-4J Phantom from the then Four Air Assessment and Test Squadron (VX-4) based on Point Mugu in formation with one of the legendary SR-71 Blackbirds flying more than Mach 3 from the USAF Air Base in Beale, was originally staged to put these two black birds together in the test range of the R-2508.

The famous photo of the F-4J "Vandy 1" flying in formation with an SR-71 in 1972. (Photo: U.S. Navy)

Referred to as "R-2508 Complex", the range extends over more than 51,700 square kilometers of special-purpose airspace, covering parts of Fresno, Inyo, Kern, Los Angeles, San Bernardino and Tulare counties. Most of the Complex is above other federally owned lands, including national parks, national forests and Bureau of Land Management (BLM) properties.

Airspace is a vital national good, crucial for the testing and development of aircraft, spacecraft and other advanced technologies, fundamental to national security. It is the largest land area of special-use airspace in the U.S., established during the height of the Cold War in 1955 as a controlled space to operate experimental aircraft and other military aircraft in tests and operational evaluations.

Most of America's world-famous "X planes" flew and were developed here. They still occupy their skies today. The area is administered and used by the China Lake Naval Air Weapons Station, the National Army Training Center in Fort Irwin and the Air Force Test Center at Edwards Air Base, all in California.

Recently, the Air Test and Evaluation Squadron 9 (VX-9), successor to the VX-4, organized a photographic flight session to celebrate the formation seen above. In doing so, it draws attention to the legacy of military aerospace testing in Southern California, to almost 70 years of multi-service cooperation in testing and evaluation, and to the value of R-2508, which is threatened by the invasion.

Well above the test range, a VX-9 F/A-18F Super Hornet encountered a U-2 Dragon Lady operated by the U.S. Air Force Life Cycle Management Center support center at Plant 42, part of the 412ª Test Wing at Edwards Air Base.

The aircraft, a contemporary of the SR-71 that remains active and the other that represents the heart of the U.S. Navy's fighter fleet, formed after completing its own separate test missions, reminding us of what the U.S. is still able to do - if it still has the will.

The F-4J "Vandy-1" or "Black Bunny" makes a low passage at high speed with another F-4 Phantom.

The Super Hornet is coated with the glossy black painting scheme that became famous for the VX-4. In U.S. Navy circles, it is said that bright black paint was applied to a VX-4 Phantom in 1969 during night tests. The radio call sign of the VX-4 squadron was "Vanderbilt" or Vandy, for short. The squadron captain's jet was known as "Vandy-1" and it was this plane that carried the black scheme.

The famous F-4J Phantom II attributed to the VX-4 portrayed after employing a drag kick during landing after a flight demonstration on NAS Pt. Mugu, California, in 1974.

It also carried the logo of what was then an American institution - Playboy magazine. In 1969, Hugh Heffner's Playboy Enterprises bought a Douglas DC-9 commercial aircraft and converted it into a large executive jet with bright black paint and its renowned rabbit logo on the tail. It was capriciously called "Big Bunny".

Not long after, several sources claim that a photo of the Vandy-1 with the rabbit logo stamped on its vertical stabilizer began to circulate in October 1971. Wags referred to the black Phantom of the VX-4 as the "Black Bunny".

Playboy owner Hugh Heffner's DC-9 lands in London.

Playboy Enterprises is said to have sent a letter to the VX-4 warning the squad that the rabbit logo on the Vandy-1 was not approved and suggested a possible legal action. But Playboy astutely added that no action would be taken if the squad used a rabbit stencil provided by the company to reflect its world-renowned trademark art.

Whether it was enacted by Heffner or another executive of the company, it was a cunning move and, subsequently, the official stencils were sent to the U.S. Navy to match Playboy's design. The rabbit was also seen in the successor to the VX-4, Vandy-1, an F-14 Tomcat and, appropriately, in a USAF SR-71 dubbed "Rapid Rabbit" that was almost shot down over Hanoi in 1972.

The VX-4 F-14-Tomcat returns to Key West Naval Air Station NAS after intense dogfight training over the Atlantic Ocean during the Cope Snapper 2002 exercise.

An SR-71 also displayed the Playboy ringy logo. (Photo: Lockheed Martin via HABU.ORG)

The Playboy logo disappeared in the early 2000s, as American society became increasingly politically correct and, in today's indisputably toxic social climate, it cannot appear in the VX-9's Super Hornet "Vandy-1".

But the feeling of pride, friendship and loyalty suggested still exists in the military flight test community. As noted, the R-2508 is fundamental to the work carried out by the organizations that use it. However, the pressure from renewable energy lobbies and the frequency spectrum (telecommunications) can jeopardise the scope of the test, such as urban/suburban growth sustained by the political power of real estate developers.

Preserving the air and land space that the R-2508 Complex offers - its bombing fields, supersonic corridors, low-altitude and high-speed maneuver areas, radar interception areas and refueling areas - is simple common sense.

It is worth highlighting the recognition of its value by the U.S. Navy, exemplified by the test framework at the China Lake Naval Air Weapons Station and VX-9. The U.S. Air Force agrees and according to Chase Kohler, head of communications of the 412ª Test Wing in Edwards, the photo session offered "offered an excellent look to show the joint collaboration that is the R-2508 air space complex".

Hopefully, the Navy, the Air Force and the Army can continue to collaborate for many decades.

Source: Forbes

Tags: Military AviationF-4 PhantomF/A-18E/F Super HornetSR-71 BlackbirdU-2 Dragon LadyUSAF - United States Air Force / U.S. Air ForceUSN - United States Navy/U.S. Navy

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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[justforbooks]

In 1941 a secret British radio station called on Germans to rise up against Hitler. Run by German exiles, it was explicitly left wing. The station’s target audience was “the Good German”. Its broadcasts were serious and idealistic: a ray of light amid totalitarian darkness. They were also a complete flop. With Nazi propaganda rampant, and Hitler’s armies seemingly invincible and on the march across Europe, few bothered to listen in.

It was at this point that Britain’s wartime intelligence services tried a more radical approach. That summer, a talented journalist called Sefton Delmer was given the job of beating the Nazis at their own information game. Delmer spent his childhood in Berlin and spoke fluent German. In the early 1930s he chronicled Hitler’s rise to power – flying in the Führer’s plane and attending his mass rallies – as a correspondent for the Daily Express.

Working from an English country house, Delmer launched an experimental radio station. He called it Gustaf Siegfried Eins, or GS1. Instead of invoking lofty precepts, or Marxism, Delmer targeted what he called the “inner pig-dog”. The answer to Goebbels, Delmer concluded, was more Goebbels. His radio show became a grotesque cabaret aimed at the worst and most Schwein-like aspects of human nature.

As Peter Pomerantsev writes in his compelling new study How to Win an Information War, Delmer was a “nearly forgotten genius of propaganda”. GS1 backed Hitler and was staunchly anti-Bolshevik. Its mysterious leader, dubbed der Chef, ridiculed Churchill using foul Berlin slang. At the same time the station lambasted the Nazi elite as a group of decadent crooks. They stole and whored, it said, as British planes bombed and decent Germans suffered.

Delmer’s goal was to undermine nazism from within, by turning ordinary citizens against their aloof party bosses. A cast of Jewish refugees and former cabaret artists played the role of Nazis. Recordings took place in a billiards room, located inside the Woburn Abbey estate in Bedfordshire, a centre of wartime operations. Some of the content was real. Other elements were made up, including titillating accounts of SS orgies at a Bavarian monastery.

The station was a sensation. Large numbers of Germans tuned in. The US embassy in Berlin – America had yet to enter the war – thought it to be the work of German nationalists or disgruntled army officers. The Nazis fretted about its influence. One unimpressed person was Stafford Cripps, the future chancellor of the exchequer, who complained to Anthony Eden, the then minister for foreign affairs, about the station’s use of “filthy pornography”.

By 1943, Delmer’s counter-propaganda operation had grown. He and his now expanded team ran a live news bulletin aimed at German soldiers, the Soldatensender Calais, as well as a series of clandestine radio programmes in a variety of languages. Delmer’s artist wife Isabel joined in. She drew explicit pictures showing a blonde woman having sex with a dark-skinned foreigner. Partisans sent the pamphlets to homesick German troops stationed in Crete.

Others who made a contribution to Delmer’s productions included Ian Fleming, the creator of James Bond, and the 26-year-old future novelist Muriel Spark. Fleming worked for naval intelligence. He brought titbits of information that made the show feel genuine, including the latest results from U-boat football leagues. Many Germans guessed the station was British. But they listened anyway, feeling it represented “them”.

Pomerantsev is an expert on propaganda and the author of two previous books on the subject, Nothing Is True and Everything Is Possible and This Is Not Propaganda. The son of political dissidents in Kyiv, he was born in Ukraine and grew up in London. During the 00s he lived in Moscow and worked there as a TV producer. Since Vladimir Putin’s 2022 invasion he has been part of a project that documents Russian war crimes in Ukraine.

Like Delmer, Pomeranstev has personal experience of two rival cultures: one authoritarian, the other liberal and democratic. He draws parallels between the fascist 1930s and our own populist age. The same “underlying mindset” can be seen in dictators such as Putin and Xi Jinping, and wannabe strongmen and bullies such as Donald Trump. “Propagandists across the world and across the ages play on the same emotional notes like well-worn scales,” he observes.

In Pomerantsev’s view, propaganda works not because it convinces, or even confuses. Its real power lies in its ability to convey a sense of belonging, he argues. Those left behind feel themselves emboldened and part of a special community. It is a world of grievance, victimhood and enemies, where facts are meaningless. What matters are feelings and the illusion propaganda lends of “individual agency”. Its practitioners bend reality. And – as with Putin’s fictions about Ukraine – make murder possible.

The book offers a few ideas as to how we might fight back. When horrors were uncovered in Bucha, the town near Kyiv where Russian soldiers executed civilians, Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelenskiy, appealed to the Russian people. This didn’t cut through. Most preferred to believe the version shown on state TV: that Moscow was waging a defensive fight against “neo-Nazis”. It was a comforting lie that absolved Russians of personal responsibility.

Ukrainian activists hit a similar wall when they cold-called Russians and told them about the destruction caused by Kremlin bombing. Many called relatives in St Petersburg and other Russian cities to explain they were under attack. Typically, their family members did not believe them. “They really brainwashed you over there,” one said.

The activists had more success when they mentioned taxes or travel restrictions – issues that spoke to the self-interested “pig-dog”. Pomerantsev suggests that Delmer’s approach worked because he allowed people to care about the truth again, nudging them towards independent thought, while avoiding the pitfall of obvious disloyalty. He brought wit and creativity to his anti-propaganda efforts as well, turning his radio shows into bravura transmissions.

Pomerantsev makes an intriguing comparison between der Chef and Yevgeny Prigozhin, the Russian oligarch who in summer 2023 staged a short-lived rebellion against Putin. Two months later, Prigozhin died in a plane crash. The oligarch was a charismatic figure who roasted Russia’s generals for their incompetent handling of the war. He used earthy prison slang. It was this ability to communicate in plain language that made him popular – and a rival.

The book muses on whether Delmer was ultimately good or bad. Are tricks and subterfuge justified in pursuit of noble goals? It concludes that the journalist’s greatest insight was his understanding of his own ordinariness, and how this might be exploited by unscrupulous governments and rabble-rousing individuals. “He was vulnerable to propaganda for the same reasons we all are – through the need to fit in and conform,” Pomerantsev notes.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?