#tom x glen
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topgunhappilyeverafter · 10 months ago
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Plausible Deniability
By: @glitterfayy | glitterfayy
For: @blendinginthecrowd | Lacerta
Pairing: Tom Cruise/Glen Powell
Rating: M
Word count: 2,160
Summary: Tom doesn’t like to make big moves spontaneously. He likes to be prepared. But after it becomes increasingly obvious that Glen is unaware his feelings for Tom can be seen from space, Tom figures he needs to make his move.
COLLECTION
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kcsplace · 3 months ago
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Top Gun Maverick + AO3 Tags (1/???)
Top Gun Silliness
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chelestials · 5 months ago
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nothing is more humbling when you’re watching an edit of your favorite actor and then the screen goes black and you see yourself on your screen basically thirsting over them
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mlqueen89 · 2 months ago
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One | Flyboy 
so cross your thoughtless heart  she's the albatross  she is here to destroy you 
The Albatross by Taylor Swift | TTPD |     
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pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x f!oc (top gun: maverick) 
rating: 18+ (minors dni) 
w a r n i n gs : smut, mentions of masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, multiple orgasms, one-night stand, jake being a cocky, self-assured man who leaves no crumbs after he eats. 
word count: 8,997
summary: in affairs of the heart, eleanor rigby has one strict rule: no pilots. Less than 24 hours back in the US, she breaks it. 
A/N: this whole entire fic literally started with the (full) name of eleanor. i also have a radar tech in the family, so that helped a bit. snowball met a steep hill and picked up speed. i've planned for ~10(ish) chapters, but it may be open ended with a few more random scenes/chapters here and there.  
proud to say that this one was beta read by my bestest friend, so you know she was mean to me helpful. 
also! i saw the asks - super excited to dive into those, tysm. ♡♡
❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ next chapter ❥
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Eleanor Rigby hadn’t wanted to go to the Halloween party, not really.    
The boxes stacked in the spare bedroom of her friend Nicole’s four-bedroom house desperately needed unpacking and the 10-hour time change from Western Turkey to San Diego was kicking her ass. She’d done about as much unpacking as was required to find a suitable outfit for her new job in the morning, folded them carefully and set them out.   
When Nicole had invited her out, Ellie had fallen asleep, mid-unpack of the rest of her belongings, waking only when the bubbly blonde burst into the room and jumped onto the foot of her bed, dressed in all her glory as Barbie.   
“Ellie does San Diego! Let’s goooo.” Nicole tugged at Ellie’s arm as Yanique flicked on the light in the ensuite, reapplying a purple-ish shade of lipstick as Ellie blinked against the sudden light in her dim room, her arm jiggled aggressively by an enthusiastic Nic.   
Bleary-eyed, her voice just a croak, Ellie politely declined, muttering something about starting her new job early the next morning and making a good impression. Nicole eventually relented with a huff and left, a little less than impressed, with their other two roommates, Yan and Sophie, in tow.   
Within 45 minutes, her phone buzzing against the hardtop of the nightstand, the voice messages started flowing in.   
Nicole’s first voice message was short, 12 seconds. Ellie’s thumb jabbed at the play button as she gathered the dishes from her girl dinner of toast and coffee and used her elbow to push down on the paddle door handle, making her way to the shared kitchen.   
Ellieeeeeeee... Eleanor Rigbyyyyyy ....   
There was a dull thud of base in the background somewhere, behind the long, pronounced whine of Nicole’s voice as she sang the beginning of her namesake Beatles song, horribly off-key.   
Ellie, please you have to come out. It’s Halloween, the most magical night of the year! Just make an appearance. An hour, tops. Please?   
Ellie moved through the kitchen, rinsing out her cup and placing it on the drying rack. Her head was in the fridge, scrounging around for an apple in the crisper drawer, when the next three messages came in.   
Please, pretty, pretty, pretty, please with like, a million cherries on top, even though I know you hate cherries.    
Bradley’s not here yet, Yan already left with a weird guy in a Frankenstein costume—do we know what kink that is? That has to be a kink, right? I’m not kink shaming though, I promise. He was just like... weird. Do you think I should get her to drop her location? Like, just in case?   
Soph is requesting Chappell Roan for the like, twentieth time, and I think she’s going to start a fight with the DJ about being an anti-feminist incel if he doesn’t play “HOT TO GO!” again... did you know that she broke up with that witch, wiccan girl from Hinge? HingeWitch? The one that had that study of cheeses in her bio, that blue cheese description—Ellie thought she heard Nicole pause to gag—anyway, I think she thinks she got cursed or something...    
The voice message cut off even though Nicole’s tone suggested that she wasn’t finished talking about Sophie’s ex.   
There was a garbled message in between the last one and the next, one in which Ellie could hear Nicole begging the DJ not to leave and promising to talk to her friend about the excessive requests for Chappell Roan.   
Don’t abandon me in my time of need, El. Desperate need. Like, jumping off of very tall somethings desperacy.   
Ellie smirked. Nicole, her very best friend in the whole wide world, quite possibly the vast universe, was, in fact, very dramatic.   
Quickly, before another voice message could roll in, Ellie hit record on her own before she bit into her apple, wrestling the third box out of a teetering tower of boxes in the corner of her room and hit send.   
Fine. I’ll be there in twenty.   
The response pinged back quickly.   
Ohmygodohmygod, thank you! Remember, the theme is Icons through the Ages!   
Wear something sexy. Iconic sexy. Iconically sexy? But not Hawaiian Barbie. Or whatever Soph is dressed up as. I want to say is either Frida Kahalo or Mama Imelda from Coco. Basically, avoid anything with a Mexican gothic vibe.
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Once Ellie had managed to pull her vintage leather aviator jacket from the box, the one she’d mislabeled in her hurry to pack everything up, the rest of her costume came together fairly quickly.   
When she found the venue, a small bar off a main street, she still had around 30 seconds to spare on her twenty-minute promise to Nic.   
Eleanor had always known that Nicole was popular, but the Halloween party, a party which Nicole had demurely announced was just “a small thing” with “a few work friends” was in actuality, not quite a small thing.  
Weaving her way through the crowd, Ellie scanned the room, trying to pick out the hot pink of Nicole’s costume or the flower crown Sophie had carefully woven into her voluminous red hair.   
Squeezing her way through a group of Spanish Conquistadors (notably with less armour and more exposed skin than was historically accurate) Ellie paused short of the small DJ booth in the corner of the bar, her eyes still scanning for Nicole when her eyes fell on him.  
Sandy blonde hair peeked out from under a neon sweatband, shoulders stocky and solid in a sleeveless denim vest over a t-shirt that read, No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem. The white sneakers, short shorts, and that unmistakable lanky sway to the beat of Footloose pumping through the venue that could only belong to one person.   
It was Ken.  
Specifically, the Ken to Nicole’s Barbie.    
“Bradshaw?” Ellie called, squinting.  
Ken spun around with the beat of the song, a lopsided grin already on his lips as he faced her. “Holy shit, Rigsy?” Swiftly, Bradley Bradshaw was over to her, scooping Ellie off her feet, squeezing her tightly in a bear hug, shaking her frame slightly with a growl, before she groaned and he set her back down, feather light.   
“You didn’t say you were back stateside.”   
“My flight got in last night.” Ellie shrugged, straightening her jacket and adjusting the thin white scarf around her neck, “Just wanted to surprise you, Rooster.”   
“Well, damn it,” Bradley nodded in approval, all dimples and easy charm, “colour me surprised.”  
It was no wonder Nicole had fallen for him, head over Barbie heels. Even Ellie liked him, and that was saying something.   
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was less pilot and more golden retriever, a good heart wrapped in an all-American charm with an easygoing, dopey grin that made people feel like they’d known him for years. He was the kind of guy who’d lend you his jacket and forget to ask for it back or show up at your door with takeout and Sleepless in Seattle cued up on a streaming service he had to pay an arm and a leg for, because he “just had a feeling.” The Batman who responded to the Emotional Needs and Mercury Retrograde Bat Signal™. The hero the people deserved. Ellie was pretty sure she caught him watching videos of a baby hippo getting into shenanigans at a zoo in China on loop for 14 minutes while Nic tried to pick an episode of Keeping Up With the Kardashians that would really pique his interest and get him invested enough to make it his “new Roman Empire”.  
Ellie remembered the night Nicole and Bradley had met with perfect clarity.   
Nicole had been in the middle of swearing off all men for the foreseeable future, her voice thick with the brand of determination that came with a prosecco-fueled resolution. Ellie had watched as her friend declare a new era of singlehood and Taylor Swift before turning to Sophie, slurring out a request for “gorgeous, single women willing to humor an experimental phase.”   
It wasn’t two minutes later that Nicole lurched forward, losing all her resolve—and her prosecco—in a sudden, graceless bout with the sidewalk.  
As Ellie rubbed her back and tried to get her standing, a group of pilots had come down the street—Bradley Bradshaw among them, flanked by two others they’d later get to know as Phoenix and Bob. Bradley had been the one to stop, eyes quickly scanning the situation, assessing and then moving in with expert precision. He’d peeled off his jacket immediately, holding it out to Nicole as she moaned her embarrassment and weakly gestured at the puddle of what had once been bubbly and appetizers a few feet away.  
“It’s okay,” Bradley had told her, voice soft and reassuring. “If you throw up on this one, I’ll just get another jacket tomorrow.” When she’d protested, he’d grinned, shrugging in that effortless way of his. “Honestly, they just give these jackets to anyone,” he’d joked, as if he hadn’t spent years earning the right to wear it and every single patch stitched on it.  
Nicole had blinked up at him, mascara smudged, his jacket draped over her shoulders, looking at him like he was some knight out of one of the many cheesy rom-coms she loved. And for once, Ellie hadn’t blamed her for it.  
That night, Bradley Bradshaw had seen her best friend at her worst and treated her like she was worth sticking around for.  
And that was Rooster in a nutshell—a steady warmth that lingered long after he was gone, the guy who would do just about anything to make Nicole smile, including, but not limited to, dressing up in the ridiculous costume he was currently wearing.  
Nudging her, Rooster grinned. “So,” he drawled, “does this mean I finally get the best friend stamp of approval?”  
Ellie rolled her eyes, feigning a reluctant sigh, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d approved of him long before now. “Don’t let it go to your head, Bradshaw.”  
“Too late,” he laughed, mimicking his head expanding dramatically before throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Already there.”  
Rooster grabbed his drink off the small table bordering the dance floor, draining the glass. “Love the costume, by the way," he sucked his teeth against the burn of the whiskey he’d downed, “I’ve not seen one Amelia Earhart here.” He craned his neck, searching in the dimly lit room.  
“You think the goggles are too much?” Ellie adjusted the strap on her head, pushing a loose strand of hair up underneath the band. “I think they might be cutting off circulation to my brain..."  
“An aviator is only as good as their headgear,” Rooster tapped the top of his head. “You’re just missing your call sign.” 
“Guess you must not be a very good one, then.” Ellie smirked, snapping the neon sweatband on his head with a laugh.  
Rooster levelled her with a narrowed gaze, but there was no heat behind it, “one day someone is going to love that you’re kind of mean.”  
“Sorry, Bradshaw—” Ellie pointed at her ears, shrugging as she stepped back, a smirk on her lips, retreating into the crowd “—I can’t hear you.”  
Rooster flipped her off, in an affectionate way, she assumed. “Sit and circumnavigate, Rigby.” 
With another laugh, Ellie turned and set her sights on the bar, squeezing her way through a grouping of zombies and a Michonne, who stood shoulder to shoulder with a Negan, complete with Lucille, tugging her scarf out of Zombie #1s grasp on the other side. 
The last tug, sharp and forceful, sent her stumbling over the tattered chiffon hem of the La Llorona’s dress at her back.  
Ellie braced for the rough landing as she attempted and failed to steady herself. She felt the fall in her stomach, the way it pitched as gravity pulled her down. She figured it served her right, the swift intervention of karma coming for her after she’d insulted its favourite pilot — Rooster was going to have an absolute field day over this. 
Ellie had been so lost in the idea of bracing for the impact of the ground, hard and sticky, she didn’t notice that she hadn’t fallen until she looked up and saw a lopsided smirk and green eyes, looking down at her. The realization there were hands hooked under her arms, holding her up came quickly after. 
“And here I was thinkin’ that Amelia Earhart had a reputation of staying upright.” The man was all smirk, dimples ghosting his cheeks, as Ellie blinked up at him, processing the situation. 
“Guess I’m overdue for a refresher course on emergency landings.” Ellie cleared her throat, righting herself with his help before she tugged her bomber jacket back into place. 
When she glanced up from her improved angle, Ellie could see just how striking he was—sharp jaw, confident eyes, and a natural swagger that suggested he knew it, suggested he knew women sized him up in more ways than one. 
“What are you drinking, Amelia?” 
“Nothing, yet.” 
“Let’s fix that, shall we?”  
The music pumped anew, the DJ spinning a Thriller remix, as she approached the bar, the presence of the man at her back as she weaved her way through the crowd. She could feel the hover of his hand at her lower back, ready to catch her if she took another tumble. She hadn’t been expecting much from the night—just a few drinks, maybe some small talk with Nic, a short discussion with Sophie on Chappell Roan’s representation of duality in the midwestern identity to prove that she’d come out and spent the appropriate amount of time there. But as she took the beer the bartender slid her way and the man leaned against the bar next to her, she couldn’t help but smile. She definitely hadn’t been expecting this. 
“Let me guess,” Ellie’s eyes scanned his costume then, taking a moment to take stock. Carefully, she scanned the skull patch, dagger in its teeth, VFA-151 stitched in below, the chevrons, patches, carefully piecing the images and small details of his costume together before she replied, eyebrow raised, “you’re a pilot—” she paused to sip her drink, her eyes falling on the patch on his bicep, “—Navy.”  
A grin pulled up the corner of his mouth as he gave her a slow once-over, a scan he didn’t bother to hide, before he leaned casually against the bar beside her. “Hangman,” he said with a smirk, and Ellie’s eyes dipped to the patch on his chest, the golden wings stitched above the call sign. “Best pilot you’ll ever meet.” 
She tilted her head, gaze sliding from his call sign back up to his face. “Best pilot, huh?” She gave him a once-over that was part skepticism, part intrigue. “You Navy guys really know how to sell it.” 
Ellie leaned into the bit hard. Tonight, she was Amelia, and he was Hangman, the name stitched into hundreds, if not thousands, of storebought costumes. If she were Navy, she might have been insulted. 
If he heard the skepticism in her tone, he ignored it and chuckled, not breaking eye contact as he matched her smirk. “Only because it’s true. Besides,” he said, letting his voice drop lower, “don’t have to sell anything when you’ve got it all.”  
Ellie raised an eyebrow, meeting his challenge head-on. “Big words for someone who still hasn’t proven a thing.”  
“Oh, don’t worry, darlin’,” he drawled, leaning in just close enough to lower his voice to a rumble, “I’m very good at proving myself.”  
She laughed softly, a glint in her eyes as she set her drink down. “Okay then, why don’t you start with this—” Ellie leaned in, her finger tapped lightly on the golden wings over his heart, her touch lingering. “Explain why they call you Hangman.”  
She waited, waited to see if he’d squirm, held his gaze and paused for the story that was sure to come. Some feeble attempt at role playing for an unpracticed character, just a call sign with no real bite, no real story.  
He smirked, clearly used to that question but still savoring her attention. “I’ll leave that for you to figure out,” he teased, straightening, “after all, you strike me as a curious type. And I’d hate to ruin the mystery.”  
Ellie chuckled, leaning back as she looked him over. That was his game, wasn’t it? A tennis match, a steady volley and lob. Two could play at that game. “Maybe I’ll get bored before I do.” Ellie added a shrug to punctuate her words for effect.  
“Somehow, I don’t think so.” His voice held a hint of challenge, his gaze lingering, his grin lazy but sharp. He straightened up, hand resting on the bar, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.  
“Guess we’ll see,” she murmured, lifting her drink to her lips, her gaze unwavering as she took another sip. She looked away for just a second, but not before she caught his confident grin widening.  
“Believe me,” he said with that maddening confidence of his as he leaned in, so close that his voice was low, the heat of his words warming the shell of her ear, “I’ve got plenty of ways to keep you entertained.”
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Ellie had barely unlocked the front door to Nicole’s place when he was on her, his hands on her hips as he pressed her into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He kissed her like a man starved, his fingers reaching up to tangle in her hair at the base of her neck, anchoring her to him.  
This was the culmination of the barely veiled innuendos, the heavy-handed flirting that had gone on all evening.  
When he’d slipped out of the bar and onto the street with her, Ellie knew what would happen. He knew what would happen. She could tell in the way his eyes raked over her, all want, pupils blown wide. He wanted her and she wasn’t shy to admit, maybe not out loud, but to herself, that she wanted him too.  
“Maybe we should—” Ellie’s breath was uneven, her mouth missing his the moment they broke apart, just long enough for her to tip her head in the direction of the stairs.  
“Yeah—” his reply was equally breathy, his eyes on her lips even as she spoke, his tongue jutting out to whet his lips. A thrill shot through her, one that dipped low and pulsed between her legs.   
She was wet already, she could feel the slickness of herself, the material of her panties weighted with the evidence. In response, in a swift motion, he picked her up and Ellie instinctively spread her legs so that they framed his waist, her ankles locking at his low back. Ellie didn’t need to be told, she gripped him with her thighs, squeezing tight as he chuckled.   
“Good girl,” he smirked against her mouth before he kissed her again, deeply, his tongue pushing inside to taste hers.  
When they reached the top of the stairs, she broke from him only just long enough to give directions to her room in as few words as humanly possible, reaching out to grip the door frame of her room as he carried her down the hall and almost walked past it.  
Shutting the door behind them with his foot, he wasted no time in pressing her up against the wall. His fingers worried the buttons, slipped each from their place, starting from the bottom up as Ellie took her bomber jacket off, tossing it and the goggles to the floor before she joined him in working on the buttons from top down.  
“So many—” his breath came out with an edge of frustration and Ellie gave up on her buttons to tug the zip of his flight suit down to where her hips met his waist.    
“Just rip it,” Ellie huffed out, voice unsteady as his lips dipped to her neck, teeth grazing the spot where her collarbone met the base of her throat. One less thing between his mouth and her skin warranted the sacrifice of a shirt.  
He didn’t waste time, didn’t question and the sudden coolness on her skin and the sound of the buttons hitting the floor, scattered, had her grinning. She liked a man who followed orders. “You owe me a new shirt, Captain.”  
“Lieutenant,” his voice rumbled into her skin, making quick work of her bra next. By the time it hit the floor to join the other articles of clothing, his hands were on her breasts, teasing her nipples, every pinch and pressure, every touch of his lips, every nip of his teeth sending surges of raw pleasure pulsing down.  
Ellie hated the way he ripped the sounds, raw, unabashed, desperate, from her. Hated how she’d folded under his smooth charm — she could have stopped it, could have said good night and left him at her door. Touched herself, alone, in bed, thinking about the way he’d been so eager to prove he was the best, picture how his touch would have felt, how he would have filled her as she coaxed herself over the edge and leave it at that.  
But she hadn’t, she’d wanted him —she’d own that. She wanted him to fuck her stupid. She could feel him, the hard outline of his cock pressing against her as he held her to him. 
“Easy, darlin’,” he chuckled lowly, rough around the edges as she shifted, reaching to touch him over top the Nomex. “We haven’t even started yet….”  
He was across to her bed in a few easy strides, carefully setting her back so that she sank into the pillows, his hand lingering at her waist as he leaned over her, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. His gaze held hers, steady and unhurried, as he let his fingers trace lightly over the edge of her jaw, his index finger coming to rest under her chin, his thumb smudging her bottom lip.  
As his thumb traced her lip, smudging her lipstick, she caught his hand and pulled his index finger into her mouth, closing her lips around the digit, tongue tracing purposeful patterns as she slowly dragged it out. Her eyes never leaving his as he huffed out a heavy breath, a thrill running through her. 
“You should know that I have a rule, sweetheart.” He murmured, leaning over her so that his arms framed her, so close that his nose brushed hers as he spoke, his voice low, deep, edged by the hard edge of desire. “Ladies first.” 
Her pants were off quickly, leaving her in nothing but a whisp of material separating her from the man who wanted all of her. She heard the jingle of dog tags as he lifted the white shirt that had been under the flight suit over his head and abandoned it. 
Before she could sit up to see him, stripped down to his boxers, he was back on her, lower.  
Softly, he kissed her inner ankle, the next kiss trailing higher, her calf, another on the inside of her knee and the next, on her inner thigh, so close to where she wanted him, she was sure he could feel the heat radiating from her core.  
She was a wreck, a hot, wet wreck and she was barely holding onto the part of her that was ready to beg him to touch her. The part of her that wanted all of him in a way that was driving her mad every moment he wasn’t touching her.  
“What do you want?” His voice was steady, measured as he touched her over her panties, his rough fingers brushing over the dampened spot of the material. The sound that left his lips, a quiet hissing intake of breath, told her he knew what he was doing to her, knew that he had her right where he wanted her.   
In response, Ellie writhed, sensitive to even the smallest brush and despite herself, a small moan left her lips, one she couldn’t have contained even if she had wanted to. What was the question again?  
He moved up from the altar between her legs, nipping a sensitive spot on her side where her ribs ended before he remedied it with a soft kiss, blazing a trail up her body with his mouth. Carefully, holding himself just above her, he bent to tease her nipple with his tongue, whetting the already hard peak, before he closed his lips around one and then moved to the other.  
Ellie was barely holding on, her vision edged with haze as he looked up to finally locked eyes with her. If he kept it up at this rate, he wouldn’t even need to fuck her.  
“What do you want?” His voice was husky, his body propped up over her as Ellie tried to order her thoughts, process them into coherent words. “You going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?”  
She could feel him against her thigh, hard, ready, the thin material of his boxers the only thing between her and all of him. There was some small satisfaction, a thrill that swept through her and coiled low in her stomach, that there was a part of him he was barely controlling a part of him that wanted to be inside of her now. The wet spot of precum on his underwear ghosted against her bare skin and she swore she could feel him twitch.  
Hangman, she’d asked at the bar, explain why they call you Hangman.   
Mystery solved.  
“I want—” she started, barely a whisper as he kissed the corner of her mouth, kissed her jawline, his fingers slipping under the top waistband of her panties as he continued to nip at the most sensitive spots on her neck.  
“You want…?” He prompted, waiting, even as his hand slipped lower, slow, calculated.   
“I want you to—,” Ellie lifted her head and muffled her moan into his shoulder as his fingers found her slick clit, massaging lazy circles, steady, calm, “Mmm.” Her nails bit into the muscles on his back as her head fell to the pillow, arching into his touch.  
“Guess, it is then.” He murmured, that infuriating smirk in his words as he pulled his hand away from her slick, stopping the steady rhythm she’d just gotten used to. She whined after the loss, but he didn’t give her much time to mourn before he was down between her legs again, his fingers dragging her panties off.  
Swiftly, he pulled her to the bottom of the bed, throwing her legs over his shoulders. Ellie gasped, her hips bucking up into his tongue as he swept it up through her folds. Calmly, as she inched closer to unravelling completely, ascending the slope at dizzying speed, he gripped her hips, controlling her movements as she pressed down against his mouth. 
She could feel the pressure building with every expert movement of his tongue over her, through her. Reaching down, she combed her fingers through his hair, gripped into it and tugged him over, directing him to her need.  
“Oh, god….” Ellie whined, the words just barely words as they dissolved into a moan, her free hand gripping the mess of sheets underneath her.  
“Hangman’s fine, gorgeous.” The response was quick, cocky. The response of a man who knew exactly what he was doing to her and taking his time. 
“Wait,” Ellie’s hips chased after his mouth, a groan on her lips as she threw her arm across her eyes. “Don’t stop—.”
He was torturing her now, bringing her just to the edge and then allowing her to come down just enough to bring her back up again. He was fucking good and he knew it. It was going to drive her insane with want. 
“You have to say please, sweetheart,” he murmured, the heat of his breath on her inner thigh almost too much, carefully, he touched her with his thumb, a light pressure as he teased her. Ellie could hear the smirk in his words.  
Words. What were words? Ellie's mind was short-circuiting. Short-circuited, past tense. Already gone. Wires crossed— leads jammed in the wrong place, signals crossed.     
She hadn’t wanted to fall apart under his touch so easily, she'd wanted to seem like she wasn’t desperate for him, but his touch was a warm fire on a cold night.    
“Ple—fuck,” Ellie moaned, her words dragged out, long and torturous as she felt his thick fingers slip inside her, slow and deliberate.     
She didn’t even know his real name, wasn’t even sure if she could manage to say it even if she did. He was undoing her carefully, piece by piece, sensation by sensation, she was malleable under his touch.    
“What was that darlin’?”    
Ellie might have been embarrassed at the squelch of her wetness as his fingers stroked in and out, excruciatingly measured, but she couldn't think about anything. Just the way he filled her while still leaving her wanting more, more, more.    
“Please—” her nerves crackled like livewires as she moaned, her hips moving against his fingers with each stroke, her movements almost involuntary, the wild need in her chasing the high, just out of reach.     
“Well, since you asked so nicely…” his voice was husky, lower now. He gripped her hip, holding her, steadying her rhythm before he added another thick finger, three deep in her now, his thumb moving in circles around her swollen clit.    
“Jesus,” he breathed, taking a moment before his mouth dipped to her hot center, alternating between sucking and the slow caressing tip of his tongue, creating just the right amount of excruciatingly perfect sensation, his fingers stroking and curling inside her. “You're so tight, sweetheart. Might not—” 
He might not fit. She finished his words in her mind, a secondary thought, one that made her mad with want. 
She breathed through the sensations, jolted and writhed as his pumping digits searched for the spot that made her see stars. She felt drunk, high, soaring, just on the edge of release, her muscles aching to reach the peak before she tumbled over, completely undone.    
When she finally broke, her back arching off the mattress, her hips grinding harder into his hand, she moaned into her forearm to muffle the sound. 
That air of self–assured cockiness he carried himself with at the bar, the swagger. It was all well��earned, she was coming to realize. Pun intended. 
“You know what they call a pilot with at least five confirmed air-to-air kills?” His voice was low as he drew his fingers from her, slipping his arm behind her still arched back as he leaned over her, his heavy cock pressing up against her throbbing pussy through his boxers, hard, ready.  
She was hyper aware that she still wanted him, inside her, filling her, spreading her to her limit in a unique mix of pleasure and pain. 
“Hmm—Ace?” Ellie’s mind was still hazy, vignetted around the edges as her heart hammered against her ribs. 
It happened in a moment, a quick change of position, as he lifted and turned, positioning himself under her so she straddled him. Smooth and calculated, precise and fast, an expert maneuver.  
Ellie could feel her bare wetness against him, her hands bracing on his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath her touch. In the dim light of the room, she could see the glint of his dog tags hanging off to the side, a small detail of his costume she wished she might have looked at before, in the bar.  
“Ace.” He smirked up at her before he shifted her hips up and he pulled her down over his face. 
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Ellie gripped the steering wheel tightly, the worn pleather creaking under her hands as she leaned forward and angled the rearview mirror sharply so she could get a better look.   
“Fuck,” Ellie hissed, her fingers hovering just over the purple mark on her neck, just above her collarbone. How she hadn’t noticed it in the mirror this morning, she wasn’t quite sure.  
“Seriously? A fucking hickey?” She was already digging around in her purse as she huffed, her fingers blindly searching for the concealer she knew wouldn’t be there because she could see it in her mind’s eye, sitting on the edge of the porcelain countertop in her ensuite bathroom. “Are we fourteen?”  
This was definitely topping her list of things she didn’t need her first day on a new job site, especially not Miramar.  
When Ellie had woken up that morning, the sun barely peeking through the half-shut blinds, she wasn’t surprised that she was alone in bed. There was no note, no forgotten sock, no evidence, save for the dull ache between her legs and a tender, purple love bite on the inside of her right thigh as evidence that last night had even happened.  
That was what one-night stands were though, right? One night.  
Even under the hot stream of water from the shower in the ensuite though, Ellie closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift back, only shaking herself from the thought of him when the alarm from her phone buzzed it right off the counter.   
Groaning, Ellie blew out a noisy breath, abandoning the purse search when she found nothing other than a stray mint.  
Guess today was going to be a hair down kind of day.  
It wasn't the look she normally felt comfortable with on military bases with all the formality of rank and protocol, but she was a civilian contractor, it was unlikely anyone would notice. Hair down was better than the talk that might follow her around if anyone saw the mark on her neck.  
Sighing, Ellie pulled the pins out of the bun she’d spent her morning perfecting and allowed her hair, dark, still damp and wavy from the shower, to fall around her shoulders. Carefully, she pulled the tresses forward, over the rouged mark on her skin, peeking just out from under the collar of her white blouse.  
It wasn’t the best, but it would have to do in a pinch. She made a quick mental note to head off base on break to stop at a CVS to grab some concealer before she twisted the rearview mirror back into place.  
Tony Cudmore, the Crew Staffing Supervisor she had been coordinating with solely through email before now, was already waiting for her just outside the gates, his eyes on his wristwatch as Ellie approached. “Rigby, glad to have you on board. Heard we snagged you from your work on base in Turkey.”  
“Yeah, well. When Uncle Sam comes knocking, right?” Ellie snagged a tress of her hair as it lifted from her shoulder in the wind, carefully patting it back into place.  
“Don’t I know it,” Tony chuckled, his white, push broom straight moustache blustering as he waved at the officer stationed in the booth by the gate before he scanned his security pass. “How’s your old man?”  
“Ah, you know the type, Tony.” 
Ellie had perfected the art of sidestepping questions about her dad and Tony didn’t push further, seemingly content with the non-answer. 
As they reached the security clearance office, Tony slid a few documents under the glass and Ellie stepped up in front of a camera, the flash going off quickly before she had a chance to adjust.  
Whoever thought DMV photos were bad had clearly never had their photo taken by a Naval Officer a few months away from retirement.  
“Given name?” The man behind the glass murmured, so low that Ellie had to strain and lean toward the hole at the bottom of the glass to hear him.  
“Eleanor.” 
“We have a lot of work here that could really benefit from your expertise. The boys are flying Super Hornets nowadays, so the tech is good, but the improvements from your research could really give ‛em the edge.” Tony continued at her side, distractedly flipping through emails on his phone as he waited, “Now of course, those Super Hornets are far and away from the Tomcats your dad would have been flying in his heyday here, let me tell you….”  
“Surname?”  
“Neven - but you can just put Rigby.” It was Ellie’s turn to murmur now, edging closer to the slot in the glass, her voice just loud enough to be heard over Tony’s absent chatter behind her.  
The Security Officer paused, fanning out Ellie’s passport and glancing up at her for a moment, eyebrow raised before he punched something into the computer. She offered him a tight smile a beat too late.  
When the man slid her the newly printed security pass, Ellie’s eyes scanned for any sign of the hickey and was thankful that, though her hair looked like a bird's nest and her eyes were half-closed in mid-blink, at least the hickey wasn’t memorialized in her security pass.  
As they stepped out of the security office, Tony untucked a manila folio from under his arm and passed it to Ellie as they walked. “I’ll take you around. Give you your bearings. You’ll be working with the tower crew lots. Some good people up there.”  
They were out of the outbuilding now, Ellie’s heels clicking across the tarmac, past the line of F18s lined up on the hardtop and gleaming in the early morning California sun.  
“The ground crew might ask for some help with the planes, so you’ll be in the hangars. I’ll take you for a quick flyby,” Tony chuckled to himself, pleased with the pun, “we’ll pick up the tour after since the meeting with Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Stark is at 0900 sharp and those suits don’t mess around.”   
Tony’s strides were long, and it took Ellie a moment to jog after him, catching up just in time for him to open the door for her.    
“If you’re not five minutes early—” Ellie started, half playing into the old Navy saying she had grown up hearing as she slipped into the hangar.  
The nostalgic scent of jet fuel and oil hit Ellie hard in the closed space — it didn’t seem to matter how long she did this, how long she worked around planes and crews, in different countries, different airfields, this part never changed. Part of that was comforting in an odd way. It felt like home to her. 
Tony snapped his fingers in response, the sound of agreement. Tony opened his mouth to speak when a loud peel of laughter echoed in the closed space. Tony glanced at his watch, confused for a moment before his face turned toward Ellie, excited. “Oh, well, will you look at that, lucky you, we’ve got some of our Flyboys here. Must have some free time before drills.”    
Ellie followed a few steps behind Tony as he rounded the front of a line of Super Hornets, a spring in his step. As they approached, she took in the group of aviators in their flight suits from a distance, casually talking and laughing — and then her stomach twisted, her gait faltering for a moment. 
There, leaning against one of the jets, was the last person she expected to see again, let alone here: Hangman.
He looked almost exactly as he had last night, though somehow the daylight amplified everything about him— his height, the confident set of his shoulders. He turned, mid-laugh and Ellie watched as his eyes caught on her, like he recognized her for a fraction of a second before the look was gone just as quickly. 
Hangman’s easy smile shifted when he saw her, an eyebrow shooting up, surprise flashing across his face before his expression settled into something like amusement.
The last time she’d seen that look, she’d been over top of him, hovering, before he pulled her down over his mouth greedily, his tongue painting pictures over her most sensitive nerve endings as she moaned. She was pretty sure she’d broken one of her fingernails as she gripped the headboard, biting into her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood, his other hand reaching up to cup her breast roughly.  
Yet here he was now, in the light of day, truly in his element, looking like he belonged here as much as the jets around him. 
Ellie felt her heart kick up a notch, a reaction she’d hoped she’d managed to stow away. She forced herself to play it cool, lifting her chin slightly as they neared the group. She didn’t have a choice �� there was no running from this. The consequences of her own actions coming back around to haunt her. 
“Hangman, Payback, Harvard,” Tony greeted, nodding to him and the other pilots. “Good to see you guys. Just giving our new radar tech a tour.” 
Ellie felt her pulse quicken as his gaze slid back to her. He wasn’t going to say anything, right? They were strangers here, well, coworkers now. She wasn’t Amelia Earhart, and he wasn’t the pilot from the party, except, he very clearly was and Ellie had miscalculated, mis-stepped. A TOPGUN pilot no less. 
As she held his gaze, she could see the recognition flickering behind his eyes. He knew exactly who she was, but his mask didn’t slip, not for a second. 
“This is—”  
“Rigby. Eleanor.” Ellie interrupted Tony sharply. The introduction as herself, not as Amelia, would be on her own terms. At least she could control that. Here, at Miramar, she was Eleanor Rigby. 
“Welcome to the team, Rigby,” he said smoothly, holding out a hand as if they hadn’t already met in the most intimate of ways. The way he said her name sounded off, like he was testing it out in the context of their previous… encounter. 
Ellie held her breath, pausing only a moment before she forced herself to shake his hand. “Thanks,” she replied coolly, her voice even, though she was silently praying for the ground to swallow her whole. She refused to let him get the upper hand. Not here, not in front of people she had to work with.  
His grip was firm, his eyes amused. Ellie caught the brief flicker of his gaze to her neck, his eyes resting where Ellie knew she’d tried to hide the hickey, admiring his work, likely.    
Tony chuckled, oblivious to the tension. “Lieutenant Seresin’s one of the best we’ve got. You’ll probably end up working on his bird now and then.”  
Ellie forced a smile, though she could feel the bottom of her stomach drop out and she cleared her throat in an attempt to press down the nervous, incredulous laugh that threatened to escape her. Technically, she’d worked on it last night, right?   
“Looking forward to it,” she said instead, even though the last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near him right now.  
He released her hand, stepping back into the group of pilots. “Catch you around, Rigby” he said casually, before turning back to his crew, who began to stalk off, out of the large open hangar doors, not looking back.  
“Anyway, you’ll be working here between—” Tony continued, oblivious. 
Ellie let out a breath as Tony waved at her to follow him, continuing the tour. She kept her eyes forward, focusing on Tony’s voice, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of Hangman’s eyes on her or the memory of last night still lingering between them. This complicated things. This really complicated things. 
At least he’d set a standard: he didn’t know her and Ellie was only happy to play along with that pretense. She didn’t know him either. At least, that’s the story she was sticking to. 
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The fluorescent lights in the conference room felt harsher than usual, and Ellie shifted uncomfortably as Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Ingrid Stark watched her closely, their expressions unreadable.  
Standing before two of the Navy’s highest-ranking officers, Ellie tried to steady her breath, tried to ignore the slow trickle of panic coursing through her. The same panic that churned the small bit of breakfast she’d managed to eat while maneuvering in and out of San Diego traffic all the way to North Island.  
All she had to do was focus, recenter her mind on the presentation. The presentation that culminated the last three years of her career, it was important, she knew – it had been the sole focus of her work in Turkey and yet, here she was, hiding that stupid hickey and thinking about the man who made it. Thinking about how he looked at her in the hangar not but twenty minutes ago, a glance exchanged that held a shared secret between them as he took her hand and treated her like a stranger. Cool, calm, collected, all charm.  
It was the same easy charisma she’d leaned into just last night, at the Halloween party, blissfully unaware of who he really was. Except now she knew he’d been telling the truth the whole damn time and she’d just called his bluff wrong. And now, now with all those thoughts running through her mind at Mach 2, she was standing here, in front of the highest-ranking personnel on base, expected to deliver a groundbreaking presentation on her research, trying to ignore the lingering flush of that unexpected run-in this morning.  
Ellie cleared her throat, tightening her grip on her tablet as she began walking the Admirals through her research. Running through her practiced script, she carefully outlined her new detection algorithm—a project that had garnered their attention in the first place, the same work that had pulled her back here, to Miramar.   
Truthfully, if they’d asked any probing questions, Ellie would have to confess that the technology was in its earliest stages but had the potential to counteract enemy jamming of GPS signals. In theory (because that was the key word theory), the algorithm she’d developed, on paper, had the potential to become an un-jammable navigation system.  
Ellie clicked through to the next slide, “The reason this algorithm has the potential to give our pilots the advantage is because the enemy would have -”  
You have to say please, sweetheart. 
The memory from last night, his words a steady command, sent a pulse through her, from her chest, down into her core, where it settled, hot and pulsing. 
Ellie’s voice caught in her throat, and she coughed, before holding up her index finger and pouring herself a glass of water from the pitcher at the head of the table. Quietly she sipped the water, her eyes landing outside the window at the tarmac as ground crew guided an F18 out of the hangar. She waited for a beat, measuring her sips as she calmed down. 
Get your shit together, Rigby. She coached herself, draining the last of the water as she caught Admiral Simpson checking his watch from the corner of her eye. You are not going to screw this up because you had sex last night.    
Incredible sex.     
The best sex you've had in the last two years... possibly in your entire life.    
Top tier sex... with your new co-worker. Who just so happens to fall into the off-limits category. 
If she could have shaken her head without it seeming strange, she would have, but she suspected she was getting into foot tapping territory. With Admirals, time was money. 
“I’m sorry, as I was saying—” Ellie straightened her blazer, setting the glass down and resuming her presentation, determined.      
When she finished, Admiral Simpson leaned back, giving her a thoughtful once-over as he drummed his fingers on the folder containing her research on the table in front of him. “Well, Ms. Neven,” he said, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The best of the best. That’s what they told me about you. I suppose that must run in the family.”  
The weight of the comment hit her immediately, and her mind reeled again. This time for an entirely different reason. She hadn’t anticipated Rick’s reputation coming up so soon—or at all.  
She managed a quick nod, hoping it looked confident. “Thank you, sir,” she said, barely keeping her voice steady.  
Simpson’s smile deepened. “When we saw you were one of the top minds in the field, it was a no-brainer to bring you in for this project. Your research is intriguing.” His gaze softened slightly, just enough to give her a glimpse of the man behind the rank and she wondered if, for half a second, it had anything to do with the fact that he had a daughter her age. “You’re going to do great things here. Your dad’ll be proud, no doubt.”  
Ellie nodded again, murmuring her thanks, feeling an odd pressure bubbling under the surface. Truthfully, she had expected some bluster about her family, some comments about her father and his Radar Intercept Officer being wingmen for the late Fleet Commander Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. She hadn’t expected it this soon. 
“Admiral Stark and I will take a look over your documentation and see how best to get the testing started. I trust you’ll let us know if you need anything in the meantime?” Admiral Simpson stood then, and an Officer stationed outside the boardroom opened the door from the outside.  
The meeting adjourned, and as everyone began to filter out, Ellie felt herself unraveling by the second, anxiety pushing its way to the forefront. She wanted to scream or laugh, possibly both. Instead, she was rooted in place, unable to decide whether to escape to the nearest empty room or brace herself against the wall and breathe. If she didn’t leave this room for the rest of the day, what were the chances she’d run into him again? Probably slim. 
This was her first day here. The first day and she was thinking about how she’d been laid bare and fucked out of her mind by a man she’d never thought she’d see again, much less work with. All in the middle of one of the most important presentations of her entire life, in front of the people who could make that research into something tangible, a finished product, a cornerstone of new technology in aviation, a reality.   
The lights in the boardroom automatically flicked off and Ellie sighed, gathering up the last of her things before exiting the room. She could hide in the women’s bathroom, right? 
“Ms. Neven.” RADM Stark’s voice approaching from the hallway behind her startled Ellie. As she turned, Ellie watched as Stark appraised her with a mix of curiosity and approval. “Impressive work. It’s good to have some estrogen in the room for once.” Her lips curled into a slight smirk, and Ellie let out the measured breath she’d been holding.  
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m—excited to work here,” Ellie's voice was a little steadier now, a bit of genuine enthusiasm breaking through her nerves as she reminded herself why she was here in the first place. Her work. Her career. Her tech.  
Stark raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Don’t get too excited,” she said, producing a small stick of concealer from a crisp tan pant pocket. She held Ellie’s gaze, a message or a warning behind her cool eyes, Ellie couldn’t be sure, as the ranked Officer handed the makeup to Ellie. “I think we might be the same shade.”   
Ellie’s heart stuttered as the realization hit her, broad-sided. Her hand shot to her neck before she could think, the heat in her cheeks flaring brighter than before as she accepted the concealer, mumbling a mortified thank-you.  
Stark gave her a knowing smile, a curt little nod as she tapped the side of her nose, before walking away, her stride as calm and confident as when she’d approached.    
Ellie waited until the RADM was clear from sight before making a beeline for the bathroom, practically stumbling into the mirror over the sink. She tilted her head to confirm what she already knew was there: a very visible, very damning mark on her neck. The scarlet letter.   
Great.    
She didn’t waste a second applying RADM Stark’s concealer, muttering under her breath as she blended it carefully with the tips of her fingers, dabbing. “One day at Miramar, Ellie. One day.”    
As she swiped on the secondary layer of concealer for good measure, she felt the rush of everything hit her again. The tension of the presentation, the equal parts pride and pressure from the Admiral’s praise, and him—Lieutenant Seresin, Hangman, with his easy, cocky grin and the piercing eyes that, despite everything, she could still feel on her.  
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tags: @mrsevans90 , @avengersfan25 , @hookslove1592
taglist if you want to be added/removed!
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lesbiradshaw · 2 years ago
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top gun (1986) / top gun: maverick (2022) - different ways to say goodbye
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drugs-and-daddyissues · 3 months ago
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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
🩷 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 🩵 𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 💛 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
🔞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 | 🎀 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 | 🥀 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭
🍼 𝐜𝐰: 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬/𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 | 🧸 𝐜𝐰: 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩
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𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒
♡ 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 🩷🔞 - You find out your ex cheated on you, and Johnny is right there to swoop you up with promises to fuck you so good you won't even remember your douche of an ex.
♡ 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 🩷🔞 - He fucks you after an argument.
♡ 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐗 🩷🔞 - You're a pornstar, and you ask him to make a video with you. And who is he to deny you?
♡ 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 & 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 🩷🔞 - He helps you relieve period related pain with some good old loving.
♡ 𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐥 🩷🥀 🎀- After finding out you can't have biological children, you know you have to tell your boyfriend, Johnny.
♡ 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 🩷🔞🧸 - Johnny's fascinated with your youth and beauty, it's such a stark contrast to his dark mind. He wants to absolutely ruin it until all you can do is crave him.
♡ 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 🩷🎀 - On your 18th birthday, your high school boyfriend, Johnny, proposes to you in front of all your family and friends.
♡ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘, 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓? 💛🥀🎀 - Johnny comforts you through a panic attack.
♡ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 🩷🔞🧸 - Dancing with a stranger at a Hollywood party ends with a steamy hookup.
♡ 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐄 🩷🔞 - Johnny bends you over and fucks you in front of a mirror in order to help you get over your body issues
♡ 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒 🩷🎀🍼 - Johnny watching you with his baby, being filled with an overwhelming feeling of love.
♡ 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 🩷🔞 - You're desperate for his attention, and he gives it to you.
♡ 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 🩷🔞 - His southern loving applies to more than tender hair care, it also extends to the way he takes you in bed.
♡ 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 🩷🔞 - After a messy divorce, Johnny finds himself being dragged to a strip club in an attempt to just get him to forget about his pain for one night. There he meets you; a pretty little dancer, one who will give him a night he won't forget.
♡ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐒 🩷🔞 - Your best friend, Johnny, finds out about the dirty fantasies you've been having about him. Not only does he make you confess every single one, but he makes them a reality.
♡ 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 🩷🔞 - After breaking up mid tour, Johnny still joins you as part of your band. But over the course of the remaining shows, he falls back in love with you, completely regretting his choice to end things with you.
♡ 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒, 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐒 💛🥀 - After meeting Johnny after your breakup, you can't help the butterflies that flutter in your stomach. But he's not yours to touch anymore.
♡ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 🩷🔞 - Your virgin boyfriend cannot keep waiting to have you.
♡ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 💛🔞 - At a Hollywood party, after your boyfriend, Johnny, keeps getting flirted with by every damn girl at the party, your jealousy gets the better of you, and you remind him that he's yours.
♡ 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 🩷🔞 - Watching horror movies with Johnny on Halloween turns into a night of teasing and pleasure
♡ 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 🩷🥀 - Months of drifting apart and arguments have your relationship hanging on by a thread. You're tired, but you just can't seem to let him go. That is, of course, until he feels how you're slipping away and panics. From that moment on, he promised to make you fall for him, like it was in the beginning.
♡ 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐘 🩷🔞 - Your relationship seemed so hopeless that you decided to go to couple's therapy. But even your therapist- Dr. Depp- could see your boyfriend didn't care, and he takes it upon himself to make sure you properly experience what being with a man is like.
𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒
♡ 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - Johnny, but what if we made him a Taylor Swift playlist?
♡ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 🩷🥀🎀🍼 - Johnny Depp who didn't know he had a child
♡ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 🩷🔞 - Imagine having a threesome with him and his girlfriend.
♡ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 💛🎀 - Imagine being a famous singer and wanting to tie the knot with Johnny.
♡ 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐍 🩷🎀🍼 - Imagine Johnny Depp just being an absolute family man, and just wanting to keep adding to your little family.
♡ 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 💛🎀 - Vampire!Johnny Depp who turns you into a vampire like him, so you can spend the rest of your lives together.
♡ 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 🩷🔞 - Imagine virgin!Johnny Depp absolutely not knowing what to do, but you're being patient with him and letting him experiment.
♡ 𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 💛🎀 - Imagine living a quiet, domestic life with Johnny.
♡ 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 💛🎀 - Imagine Johnny letting you take a hit off his cigarette.
♡ 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 💛🎀 - He's your best friend, but he's also desperately in love with you, yet you never seem to see it.
♡ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 🩷🎀🧸 - He teases you a bit about being a fangirl, before lots of loving ensues.
♡ 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 🩷🎀🧸 - Pet names that older bf!Johnny Depp would call you.
♡ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 🩷🎀 - What being married to Johnny would include.
♡ 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 💛🎀🧸 - You do pottery with Johnny Depp and it does not go as planned.
♡ 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇 🩷🥀🍼 - Johnny accidentally missed the birth of your child.
♡ 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 💛🎀 - Johnny looking at you like you're his whole world.
♡ 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐘 🩷🎀🍼 - Johnny Depp who literally just won't let you lift a finger in regards to painting or building furniture for your nursery
♡ 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒/𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 💛🔞🧸 - Family friend!Johnny Depp who teaches you a lesson in the backseat of his car.
♡ 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒 🩷🔞🧸 - Extension of family friends/brat taming, he finds out you were a virgin and he took your virginity in such a rough way.
♡ 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 💛🎀 - Imagine being really sick and needing to go to the ER, and he helps you through it.
♡ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐀 🩷🥀 - Imagine being his girlfriend after Winona Ryder, and the public absolutely tears you apart.
♡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 🩷🥀🍼 - Imagine having an affair with a married Johnny Depp, only to end up pregnant.
♡ 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 💛🎀 - Imagine Johnny only having a Southern twang on his words when he's with people he's comfortable about, including you.
♡ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 🩷🎀 - Your whole little family going down with a cold, leaving Johnny to take care of both his girls.
♡ 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 💛🥀🎀- Being his sunlight through the trial.
♡ 𝐑𝐄𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 🩷🥀🧸🍼 - Imagine telling older bf!Johnny that you're pregnant, only for him to be.. Less than happy about it.
♡ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 💛🎀 - Imagine a second chance romance with Johnny.
♡ 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐄 💛🎀 - Johnny sings "Let It Be Me" to you.
♡ 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 💛🎀 - Being an age regressor/dreamer, and how he'd take care of you.
♡ 𝐂𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐒 🩷🔞 - Overstimulation and oral sex.
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𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒
♡ 𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄 🩷🔞🍼 - You're the pretty little wife of President Coriolanus Snow, but he needs an heir to his legacy, someone to pass the Snow name down to. After all, his children will rule the great nation of Panem one day.
𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒
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𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒
♡ 𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐀 💛🎀 - You're the significant other (and editor) of Markiplier, and he notices that you've been overworking yourself.
𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒
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♡ 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 🩷🔞 - You just couldn't help but tease him, could you? It's okay, he's got measures to put you in your place.
♡ 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 🩷🔞 - Tom Hanson takes your virginity.
♡ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 🩷🔞 - He fucks you in the back of his Mustang.
♡ 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 🩷🔞 - Doug walks in on you and Tom having sex.
♡ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 💛🎀 - After a close call with death, he confesses his love for you.
♡ 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 💛🥀 - You've been lying to Tom for months about who you are, but even when the truth comes out, he still can't get you out of his system.
𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒
♡ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐌 🩷🩵🎀
♡ 𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 💛/🩷
♡ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐒𝐄𝐗 🩷🔞 - Arguing with him and it leading to the best make up sex.
♡ 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 🩷🔞🎀🍼 - Him dealing with your baby fever, and eventually caving.
♡ 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 💛🎀 - Getting married to Tom, and frustrating the hell out of everyone at work because of it.
♡ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 🩷🎀 - The detail and care he puts into your comfort while you're on your period.
♡ 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 💛🎀 - Him with a partner that keeps him on his damn toes.
♡ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 💛🎀 - Tom's love languages, both what he gives and what he prefers to receive.
♡ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 🩷🔞
♡ 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌 💛🎀 - Seeing him in uniform for the first time, and going a little crazy over it.
♡ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 💛🎀 - What starts as a casual relationship so he's not lonely, ends with him falling in love with you, seriously.
♡ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 💛🎀🥀 - Nobody talks about how protective he would be after Amy's death.
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♡ 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐓, 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 🩷🔞 - You wear his hat while riding him.
♡ 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 🩷🥀🍼 - After an attack on the Black Pearl leaves you seeking refuge on another ship, you become distraught at the lack of knowledge on the whereabouts of your husband, Jack, and the fear for the safety of your baby
𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒
♡ 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 🩷🔞 - Jack Sparrow who eats your pussy like it's his only salvation.
♡ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 🩷🔞
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𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒
♡ 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌 💛🎀 - Sweeney never thought he'd love again, not after his wife and child were ripped from him, but then you come along.
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♡ 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐖 💛🥀🎀 - After all your friends are murdered by Freddy Krueger, it's just you and your boyfriend- Glen- left.
♡ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 🩷🎀🍼 - Unexpectedly having to navigate a teen pregnancy with your boyfriend, Glen.
𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒
♡ 𝐆𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐘 𝐗 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 💛🎀 - He'll be your doom and gloom, if you'll be his summer sunshine.
♡ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 🩷🔞 - He shows you the difference between just straight fucking, and making love.
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callsignmayhem · 4 months ago
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Memories
Realizing that he has very slim chance of making it back, he says over the comms:
“Tell them I love them”
As soon as those words leave his lips, his jet disappears from the radar.
At his funeral, you are standing next to your kids, watching people come and go from his casket.
You hear someone clear their throat behind you, making you turn around.
It's Rooster.
Benjamin guides his siblings further away, giving you and him some privacy.
You give him a small smile.
He gives you a flash drive, you take it, looking up at Bradley.
“It's recording from the mission”
You nod, looking at the small drive in your hands.
“I know it doesn't bring him back but thought you still might want it”
“Thank you”
Bradley nods, squeezing your arm and walking away.
Later when you are home and the kids are in their rooms already for the night, you quietly go up the stairs to your bedroom.
Your bedroom.
Not his and yours like it should be.
Yours.
The thought alone breaks your heart all over again as if it hasn't been broken enough already.
Somehow you get the willpower to step over the threshold of the room. Shutting the door behind you, you flip on the small light on top of the drawer left of you.
Taking in the room, tears start running down your cheeks again.
Alarm clock beeping in the morning, arm reaching over you to make the sound to stop. A kiss placed on your temple.
“Sorry, honey”
You crack open one eye, looking at your husband getting up from the bed, going around the room, looking for his clothes. You hear the shower starting to run before sleep overtakes you. A while later, you feel light kisses placed all over your face.
“Sweetheart, you gotta get up”
“Five more minutes” you say and turn around in bed.
Jake's having none of that, pulling the covers down, attacking you with kisses.
You scream and laugh, trying to get away from his kiss attack.
“Are you gonna get up now?”
“Fine, fine, I'll get up”
Jake smirks as you lift yourself up from the bed, wandering down to the en-suite bathroom.
By the time you are done getting ready for the day, Jake has disappeared from the room. Stepping into the hallway, you hear laughter and delighted screams coming down from the kitchen.
Heading towards the sounds, you stop at the kitchen door, taking in the sight before you. Benjamin is making himself cereal, Cade is eating pieces of toast, Eden is being held upside down by Jake.
You smile, walking into the kitchen.
You ruffle Cade's hair as you go past him, knowing how much it irritates him. Benjamin kisses your cheek as you walk by him.
You grab two mugs from the drying rack, pouring coffee into them. Taking a sip from your mug, you go over to Jake and Eden, giving the other mug to him, which he gratefully takes, you tickle Eden's belly. She giggles, continuing to munch on her toast.
Soon you are all in the hallway, more or less good to go.
Jake says bye to the kids first, then to you with a kiss to your lips.
All five of you manage to get out of the front door, Jake in his car, you and the kids in yours.
Jake backs out of the driveway first, waving at you before driving off. You follow, turning your car in a different direction to get the kids to school on time.
After you've dropped them off, you go run some errands.
After the drive home, you place down the groceries on the counter.
You've put the last food in the fridge when your phone buzzes in your back pocket. Fishing it out, you press the green button.
“Hello?”
You go over the bed, grabbing your laptop from the side table. Sitting on the bed, you plug in the flash drive and press play.
Listening to the recording, listening to his voice, makes your heart ache, ultimately cracking it in half when you hear his last words before his comms crackle and go dead. You hear the others begging for him to answer, to make any sound at all.
They get nothing.
You hear the command to land followed with multiple voices protesting, but the voice again commands them to land.
The recording goes on for a while after the command but no one is saying anything.
You stop the recording.
Unplugging the drive, you place it and the laptop down on the side table.
His last words echo over and over again in your mind.
“Tell them I love them”
“Tell them I love them”
“Tell them I love them”
You cried yourself to sleep that night and countless nights after that, dreams filled with memories of him. Thinking about how you never even had a chance to say goodbye.
None of you did get that chance.
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Part 1 (kisses on fingertips)
The letter
The first bit written in italics is what happened during the funeral (read kisses on fingertips) and the second part in italics is what happened before the call, all the way til the call comes to answering it.
This is like a prequel/sequel/continuation to "Kisses on fingertips" because there are things happening before, during and after it, I think.
Benjamin is 17 years old, Cade 14 years old and Eden is 6 years old when they lost their dad.
If anything is unclear, just ask and I'll try my best to explain.
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emmedoesntdomath · 2 years ago
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trying to explain why I love the top gun ships and the fandom the way I do can be so weird sometimes. like, no sir, I didn’t make it gay. I wasn’t looking to make something unnecessarily homoerotic. no, it was these fuckers:
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really, I had nothing to do with it
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sarah-bear706318 · 14 days ago
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Thank yall so much for all the love you have been showing my writing! I really never thought I could be a good writer so for the last 5 years I have been on here reading everyone else's amazing stories. But now I am finally getting my footing in the writing world and I am loving it and it's all thanks to yall! I am always looking for better ways to write so please send any criticism good or bad! And as always my requests are open send me as many as you want!!!
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missathlete31 · 10 months ago
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We love a happy Glen!!!
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kcsplace · 4 months ago
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insp
Top Gun Silliness
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mlqueen89 · 1 month ago
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Two | Ego
i took the miracle move on drug the effects were temporary (i love you) it's ruining my life  
Fortnight by Taylor Swift ft. Post Malone | TTPD |  
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pairing: jake “hangman” seresin / ofc (top gun: maverick) 
rating: 18+ (minors dni) 
warnings: smut, mentions of p in v sex, mentions of oral (f receiving).    
word count: 9,776 
summary: “if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions.” in which ellie has to deal with the consequences of having the best sex ever with an actual pilot who she actually has to work with. A familiar face makes an appearance to guide ellie through politics at miramar.  
A/N: guys guys guys, you are giving me liiiiife. the reception to the first chapter has been crazy. lots of jake head canon developing here. essentially, i've decided that watermelon sugar by harry styles is jake coded. for... reasons. my guy is all acts of service. 
this one was also beta read by my bestest friend, so this one goes out to jj. love you girl, thanks for reading the smuttiest part of my brain. i also apologize for the amount of taylor swift/pop culture references (srry, not srry). also, the number of videos i watched on F-14s (tomcats) and F-18s (super hornets) is cray.
working my way through the november prompts, slowly but surely! there are a few left, so if you want to request, head on over there.
❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ❥  
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Ellie groaned deeply, her face dropping to her hands as she slouched over the kitchen island from her perch on the stool.     
“I sat on his face, Yan,” Ellie mumbled through her fingers, her voice laced with the mortification of the memory from that afternoon. The way Lieutenant Seresin’s eyes passed over her, undressing her, seeing the mark he’d made on her neck and then coolly, calmly, pretending like he wasn’t put off by her presence. She could feel the heat creeping up her neck until it radiated from her cheeks. “Now I have to work with him.”  
Yan, unfazed, was busy bustling around the small kitchen, assembling her version of a “girl dinner,” which currently included an obscene number of jarred olives in a variety of colours, a smattering of mixed Harvest Snaps, Ritz crackers and a chunk of Swiss cheese she didn’t bother slicing. As she pushed herself up on her tip toes to peek into cupboards, her manicured nailed fingers reaching for a box she’d seen near the back of the space, Yan reminded Ellie of the squirrel family that lived under the deck at their old college house.  
“I dunno,” Yan replied with a shrug, nonchalant as ever, giving the box she’d retrieved from the back of the cabinet on top of the fridge a shake. “Maybe he’ll forget?”  
The remainder of her day at Miramar had been filled with facility tours, and security briefings, introductions to ground crew and the radar teams in the tower—the usual M.O. of any other airfield she’d worked on for the past six years. Routine, smooth, reflexive, comforting in its predictability after her unexpected morning.  
To her relief, she didn’t see Lieutenant Seresin again and in part, it was because she hadn’t necessarily been looking for him. Between seeing him again, being caught off-guard, her mind scrambling and having RADM Stark offer her concealer, she’d had her fill of shame and awkward interactions to last the entire week, possibly month.   
When, at the end of the day, Tony let her know that he’d be emailing her in the next hour or so about her office space, she was already thinking about how quickly she could scurry off to her car and peel out of the parking lot.  
Driving home from North Island was completed in a fugue state, doing everything she could to keep her mind off what would happen from now until whenever her contract was over in a few months and the possibility of her putting in for remote work. Canada, Mexico, Iceland… somewhere, anywhere far away from him.  
By the time she tripped through the front door, trudging up the stairs, shoulders sunk low, Ellie was glad Nic wasn’t home. She wasn’t sure she could handle the interrogation surrounding how her first day had gone (terribly) and why she had disappeared from the Halloween party so abruptly last night without saying goodbye. Both discussions would lead to the same, inevitable, infuriatingly handsome, source. Lt. Seresin. A pilot. A mistake. A five-time in one night mistake. 
When she’d instead found Yan in the kitchen, scrounging around in the cupboards, Ellie had offloaded her previous night and the resulting day in what felt like a single sigh, a mass exodus of mismatched thoughts and side drabbles. Disaster, social and career ruin the overarching themes. 
Ellie lifted her head just enough to scoff in her roommate’s general direction. “Forget? He’s a pilot, it’s highly unlikely. Have you ever met a pilot? Those guys have egos the size of the jets they fly. There’s no way he’s going to just forget without some kind of semi-serious head trauma. Unfortunately.”  
Before Yan could respond, mouth opened in what Ellie could only assume would come next, she held up a finger, a footnote to add, “Before you say it: Bradley doesn’t count. He’s a weird… mustachioed outlier.” 
Data couldn’t track the trajectory of Rooster. Ellie had tried and failed many a time—just when she thought she had pegged him, he escaped the pigeonhole with a dogfight level of evasive maneuvering. With a lack of data or evidence, she’d been forced to accept that Rooster was just untraceable. He didn’t fit the mold of the pilots she’d met.  
“Okay, but hear me out, maybe he will forget without a smack to the dome?” Yan tapped her chin as she glanced down at her plate of smorgasbord, as if considering what was missing. “For all we know, this is his usual modus operandi and you’re just another girl in the long line of hook ups?”  
Ellie felt her stomach drop. Long line of hook ups. “Great. That makes me feel so much better.”    
Yan popped a few pitted olives into her mouth and tipped her head, gathering herself for a moment before she spoke again. “Let’s have a choose your own adventure moment: do you want friend or therapist version of Yan Like, do you want advice advice or just to vent?”  
“Are you going to bill me if I say therapist, Yan’s version?”  
“How about we split the difference?” Yan held the absurdly sized chunk of Swiss cheese in a two—handed grip, nibbling at the corner as she leaned across the island. She was never going to get out from under the squirrel family allusion at this rate. “If I was your therapist, I’d say that maybe we should look at how this serves you? What does this embarrassment, feeling it, stewing in it, what does it do for you?”  
Ellie considered for a moment, her forehead slowly coming to rest on the cool quartz countertop as if the answers could be found there.  
How did the embarrassment of working with a man she’d slept with serve her?  
Maybe the root of the mortification was the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about it, about him. The intrusive thoughts, floating around her brain, still, of the man who had undone her so completely, mapped out her body with his mouth, re-wired her brain through life-altering, transcendent orgasm, one chasing another, each cascading into the next like a line of tumbling dominoes.  
Maybe her fluster was tucked behind the idea that he’d dragged sounds from her with his tongue, fingers, filled her in ways she hadn’t realized she’d been empty until he was inside of her, easing his way in as she gasped and moaned. She’d made sounds she could never have imagined making in the presence of another person, sounds she wasn’t even aware she was capable of making.  
The shame was most likely rooted in the fact that she had liked it, enjoyed every moment he’d been on her and inside of her. Touching her, playing her like an instrument, tugging at all the strings that moved her. She’d melted at the way he called her sweetheart and darlin’ in that voice of his, drawl rough and husky, while doing the things he did to her. How eager he’d sounded when he’d asked her what she wanted from him and how he’d nearly read her mind and fulfilled her needs without needing to be told. 
Ellie could only groan in response, the sound muffled into the countertop as she shifted on her stool, clenching her thighs together tightly as a warmth coiled low in her abdomen.  
The embarrassment didn’t serve her, though it did serve to remind her that she had to have her head on straight going forward. This couldn’t happen again, even if it was all she could think about, even if her body was telling her she wanted more. Her control, careful and composed, had to be stronger; it couldn’t happen again—especially not with him, not with a pilot. Maybe if she repeated it enough, hummed it to herself like a mantra, she’d get herself back on the trail leading to the summit that was the culmination of her life’s work. 
Lt. Seresin was her Voldemort. He who shall not be named. Her Darth Vader. Her Hans Gruber. She couldn’t have sex with Voldemort again. Couldn’t risk the Resistance and give herself to the Dark Side. Couldn’t let the terrorists take Nakatomi Tower on Christmas. 
“It doesn’t.” 
“Exactly. I’m not sure what just went through your beautiful noggin’ just now, but next steps: be the badass I know you are. So what? You had a spectacular night—this guy has no idea how lucky he is to tap that.” Ellie wasn’t sure how seriously she would take it if her actual therapist sat across from her and crunched on gherkin pickles, folded between a slice of prosciutto and used tap that to drive home a point. She’d let it slide for Yan. 
“Also, don’t think I don’t see it,” Yan pointed with the Harvest Snap olive hybrid in Ellie’s general direction. “I’m being nice and I’m not even going to touch the fact that you had crazy, wild sex with a guy dressed as a pilot considering your no pilots rule.”  
“In my, very feeble attempt at self-defense: Who dresses as their actual profession on Halloween?”  
“Oh, that’s just Big Dick Energy vibes, El.” Yan smirked, quirking an eyebrow, as if she was waiting for Ellie to confirm if the vibe had basis in reality. When Ellie simply rolled her eyes, Yan continued, “let’s be real though—we’re in San Diego. You could probably throw a stone and hit a minimum of three pilots in a five-foot radius.” 
Ellie propped her elbow up on the counter, resting her head in her hand, her eyes scanning the swirled pattern in the quartz to the right of Yan’s paper plate. “So, just like that? I just, what? Duplicate the BDE?” 
“More like mirror it. Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Yan nodded, using a Harvest Snap to spear an olive. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, so I won’t, but if I could talk about it, I’d say that I have a client who is an author, who shall remain anonymous, and he uses this crazy, hostage negotiation tactic when he wants to disarm and redirect.” 
Hostage negotiation. Great. This is what is had come to. 
Yan was right. Ellie couldn’t honestly say she was thinking straight when he’d looked at her with his green eyes and easy grin, the level of confidence with which he carried himself so goddamned attractive. She definitely hadn’t been thinking with the prefrontal cortex part of her brain when he’d touched her waist and leaned in close. 
Ellie levelled Yan with a narrowed gaze. “What would friend Yan say?”  
“As your friend who has witnessed some spectacular mistakes in your romantic track record, I’d say,” Yan paused for a moment, considering, Ellie thought, on how she might soften the therapist speak, “so what? You hooked up with him. Big deal. You didn’t know he was a real pilot. It was Halloween. You thought, reasonably, that he wasn’t. I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s not like you have to work directly with him, right?” 
“Except I actually do.” Ellie sighed—she'd already thought about it on the drive home, if avoidance was a viable tactic for the next little while. “I’m the one with the new tech, remember? That means seeing him all the time. He’s part of the team they’ve recalled—he’s one of the best the Navy has to offer. He might need to test my tech if I have any hope of getting it off the ground.”  
Yan paused, mid bite of her cracker, processing for a moment in silence. “Okay. First—love the pun. Second, yeah, that sucks, but maybe he’s, like, cool? Like, he hasn’t been a complete ass about it yet, right?” 
“He pretended like he didn’t even know me,” Ellie muttered, crossing her arms as the memory of his infuriating smugness resurfaced, the way his eyes found the mark he’d made on her like she was his. The way she, for a fraction of a second, let him suck all the air out of the space between them. “Which, I guess is fair, since we didn’t exactly exchange names before....”  
“... before he fucked your brains out?” Yan offered, snapping a piece of Ritz cracker off between her teeth, nonchalantly, as if fucked your brains out was a normal, everyday, part of conversations she engaged in.  
Ellie balled up a nearby tea towel and threw it at Yan as hard as she could manage, and it fell woefully short on the island between them. 
“Okay, so, he’s trying to be professional. That’s not necessarily a bad thing?” Yan turned her back to Ellie for a moment, heading to the fridge to grab the jug of pink lemonade from the fridge before she turned and poured it into a cup that sat on the edge of the sink. 
Ellie shook her head as Yan shook the juice jug in her direction. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just—weird? I don’t know how to act around him now.” 
“Oh girl, act like it didn’t happen, obviously. We both know you’re the queen of compartmentalizing, right?” 
Ellie sighed, sweeping her hair back, unconsciously touching the concealer hidden hickey, feather-light. “This is going to be a bit harder though. I just wasn’t planning on hooking up with someone I’d have to see every day.” 
Yan propped her elbows up on the counter across from Ellie before she carefully slid the plate of crackers, olives, cheese and mini pickles toward her with a grin. “Well, welcome to what we true believers call the Frequency Illusion. You’ll see him for as long as he’s front and center in your noodle. Simple explanation. Either that or you have some karmic balance to restore.” 
Ellie sighed, a sigh that sounded more like a drawn-out lament. “You make it sound like a go around kicking puppies.” 
“As my grandma used to say—God rest her soul—” Yan continued, hearing Ellie’s comment about karmic retribution, and traced a cross over her body, turning her eyes upward for a moment before she mocked pouring one out, “pussy rules the world. You set the tone. Own it. Be confident. If someone is going to squirm, let it be him. You’re holding all the cards.” 
“Set the tone?” Ellie repeated, slowly, considering. She didn’t bother to ask why Yan’s grandma, an unassuming small-statured, Filipino lady, obsessed with backgammon and finding the freshest cinnamon scones up until the very day of her passing, would have come to such a firm stance on pussy and its power level. 
“Yeah,” Yan was around the island now, fluffing Ellie’s hair and fixing the collar on her blazer, “you’re the fucking gorgeous, brainy radar engineer. He’s just some dude who got lucky on Halloween.” 
Ellie shrugged, avoiding eye—contact with Yan. “Maybe you’re right.” 
Yan leaned forward to tap Ellie on the tip of the nose, evidently satisfied with herself. “I’m always right, girly pop.” 
“Oh, is that right, huh?” Ellie swatted at Yan as she danced away, skip-hopping over to the fridge.   
Yan grinned, piling more olives onto her plate. “You know it. Now, eat some olives and get your game face on. Tomorrow’s another day, and you’re not letting some hotshot flyboy get the better of you. Even if he’s gorgeous and a generous partner.”  
Ellie shook her head, but she picked up a cracker as Yan tapped the plate before migrating to the living room. “God, this is a mess.”  
“Eh,” Yan shrugged, dropping to the couch and patting the empty spot beside her as she nestled under an oversized blanket. “Messy is more fun. Let’s watch Love is Blind Brazil, there’s apparently this super unhinged guy, Evandro who picked this girl, Ariela, who clearly isn’t over her ex—” 
“Speaking of,” Ellie crossed the room and dropped to the couch beside Yan, tugging some of the blanket over for herself. “What happened to Frankenstein?” 
“Oh, turns out he couldn’t keep it together,” Yan didn’t bother to look at Ellie, waving the remote at the TV as she scrolled, her lips quirked up in the corners into a smirk, “needed someone with a bit more heart.” 
“You’re so ridiculous.” 
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Naval Air Station Lemoore, California - 2004 
Even after hours, the Californian sun sinking low on the horizon, Lemoore Naval Air Base was alive with a low hum of activity. F-14 Tomcats rested, wings folded in against their bodies, on the tarmac like sleeping giants, the lights from nearby hangars casting long shadows across the hot asphalt. 
She’d woken from another nightmare. It was always the same, a nightmare in which her dad didn’t come home, his plane screaming through the perfect blue sky one moment and then whistling to the surface of the azure water below, no ejection seat, no parachute. Just churning waves as they swallowed the body of the grey metal, silently, until there was nothing left. 
It was why, at 8:45 PM on a hot fall Californian evening, she found herself in her Justice League pajamas, shoes tied haphazardly, sneaking around the base. 
“Dad, we’re not supposed to be here,” Ellie whispered, her eyes wide as she hustled across the airfield, her small, seven-year-old hand clenching her father’s as he snuck from corner to corner, aircraft to aircraft. Stealth mode he’d called it. In her chest, Ellie’s heart pounded, the excitement mixed with the mischievousness of it all.  
Rick “Hollywood” Neven grinned, a roguish glint in his eyes as he glanced down at her by his side. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I know the boss.” He offered her a sly wink and Ellie could feel the anxiety ebb away slightly. She trusted him, always had. He was her dad, after all—the coolest person in the world.  
Slipping through the open hangar bay doors, Ellie’s eyes focused on the jet parked up in the center of the building. The one she’d only ever seen from a distance, her fingers laced through the chain link fence, her mom at her back, as the engines fired to life and her dad took to the air. Now, larger than life, it was here, looming large over her tiny frame. Ellie’s breath caught as her dad led her closer, the heavy scent of engine oil and metal filling her nostrils. Ground crew engineers milled about, running through their checks, but none of them stopped or questioned her dad. He was a legend here, and everyone knew it. Everyone knew him. 
Rick nodded at one of the crew members, and they moved aside as he led Ellie closer to the jet. “Come on, squirt,” he whispered, lifting her up to stand on a ladder beside the plane’s body. “Want to see where the magic happens?”  
Ellie’s eyes widened as she gazed at the jet’s gleaming surface. “This is your plane?”  
“All mine,” he said proudly, patting the side of the jet, his hand passing over his name Lt. Rick Neven and call sign, Hollywood, painted on the side just below the seam where the bonnet would connect. On the body, beside the rear seat, Lt. Leonard Wolfe, Wolfman was painted in white, his RIO.  
As she stared, wide-eyed, taking it all in, he pointed to different parts, explaining each with ease of someone who had lived and breathed this life for years, someone who could identify this machine as an extension of his own body. “That’s the engine, and those are the intakes. That right there is the radar, it’s here, in the nose too—probably the most important thing in the whole bird.”  
Ellie’s eyes scanned the instruments inside the cockpit, levers and buttons, throttles and sparkplugs. “Why?” Her face scrunched in thought.  
“Because without it, I wouldn’t know what’s coming my way. You see, when you’re flying up there, things happen fast. You need to know everything around you—what’s out there, who’s out there.” He turned, giving her a proud smile. “That’s where a good radar tech comes in. But the best radar tech?” He winked. “They’re sitting right behind the pilot.”  
“Like the RIO?” she asked, her voice full of wonder, eyes trained on her godfather’s name.  
“Exactly.” He gestured for her to step up higher, holding her waist as he lifted her into the cockpit. Ellie settled her tiny frame into the seat, her feet barely skimming the pedals in the footwell. Reaching back into the rear seat, he grabbed his helmet, the one adorned with his call sign, and the “lady butt” as Ellie called it. Carefully, he placed it on her head. The weight of it pressed on her neck, far too big, but she didn’t care. The weight of it made her feel important—like she was a part of something bigger, like she was in the cockpit with her dad. 
“Dad…” Ellie began, her voice small and muffled from under the oversized helmet as she pushed it up so she could see him. “What’s it like? Flying up there?”  
Her dad leaned against the side of the F-14, his gaze drifting out toward the open hangar doors where the night sky stretched endlessly above. “It’s like…freedom. Like nothing else in the world matters. Just you, the jet, and the sky. And when you’re up there, you feel like you can do anything.”  
Ellie’s eyes sparkled as she imagined, endless skies, horizon boundless, freedom. “Maybe I can be your RIO one day?”  
Her dad chuckled and Ellie could feel her heart swell, the thought of being here with her dad in his favourite place. He reached out and gently tapped the helmet on her head. “You’re already halfway there, kid. One day, you’ll be up there with me. I’ll be the one flying, and you’ll be the one keeping me safe, making sure we’re on the right track.”  
Ellie smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. “Promise?”  
“I promise,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto hers, and Ellie could feel the pride growing in her, the thought of following in her dad’s footsteps both thrilling and nerve wracking. “Just don’t tell your uncle Wolfman. You’ll be putting him out of a job and I don’t know if the Navy is ready for two Nevens up there.” 
For a moment, it was just them in that cockpit, the noise of the hangar fading into the background as her dad told her to pull back on this throttle and showed her where the ejection handles were. Ellie could feel the importance of it, the way her dad talked about all of it. If her dad said she could do it, then she could—her hero, strong, invincible. Maybe she could be his RIO one day.   
He grinned and grabbed the straps of the helmet, giving it a loving shake. “Alright, kiddo. You got school tomorrow. Let’s get out of here before someone catches us.”  
Ellie laughed as he lifted her out of the cockpit and set her down, but as they walked out of the hangar, her hand still in his, she couldn’t help but glance back at the jet.  
“I think we just found your call sign, huh?” Her dad hummed as they stepped out into the night air, the sun now gone from the sky, replaced by the moon glow of a clear night. “Eleanor Rio Neven.” 
Ellie glanced up at him, her gap-toothed grin, wide. “I like it.” 
“Rio it is then. Hollywood and Rio.” 
One day, she thought. One day she’d earn that call sign. 
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Ellie glanced at the email again to stick the office assignment in the forefront of her mind, standing in front of her open car trunk, before she locked her phone and tucked it into the back pocket of her pressed pants. She was thankful she wasn’t Navy; she knew her strengths fashion wise, and it wasn’t the khaki tan colour of the service uniforms. Civilian contractors had the best of both worlds.  
Grabbing the heavy box of her things, Ellie dragged it from the trunk and hefted it, balancing it on her hip as she reached for the close trunk button.  
“Comm Center 11,” the security officer barely suppressed a chuckle as Ellie used the ledge in front of the glass to hold the box while she fished out her pass, “that’s clear across the airfield from here. You’ll have to take the perimeter; they’ll be running drills at this time. Pattern’s full.”  
“Thanks.” Ellie nodded, taking a moment to clip her pass to the waist of her pants before she lifted the box and used her hip to open the door onto the base.  
Shifting the weight of the box, Ellie tipped her chin as she passed a few officers and a few of the ground crew she half-recognized from the myriad of tours yesterday. Her things weren’t heavy individually—a few office supplies, models of the tech, schematics, a monitor, her MacBook—but stacked awkwardly, they made a clumsy, unbalanced load in the flimsy box with the caved in corners, reinforced with layers of packing tape.  
The morning sun was already intense, gleaming off the pavement so she had to squint as she moved forward, all her concentration on not dropping the box as she felt the cardboard bow under the shifting weight of her belongings, the occasional silence between the sound of jet engines and shouting staff filled by the steady clicking of her heels.  
“Need a hand?”  
The voice was unmistakable, easy, with a hint of banter around the edges, the barely concealed smugness cutting through the noise of the airfield. Ellie knew who it belonged almost immediately, the feeling of recognition hitting her square in the gut before she turned.  
Hangman. 
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Ellie set her shoulders, adjusting her grip on the unwieldy box. Set the tone, she reminded herself, hearing Yan’s voice echo in the back of her mind. She had to hold her ground.   
Turning, her eyes landed on him immediately. He was standing just a few feet away, arms crossed casually over his chest, the khaki tan of his service khakis was definitely doing something for him, something dangerous for his sharp features and easy confidence. He knew he looked good. She could feel herself bristle slightly, caught off-guard by how cool and collected he looked, his lips quirked into a lazy grin, almost infuriatingly amused as he took her in. It felt tailor made to annoy the living hell out of her at this specific moment. He looked ready to swoop in if she so much as tipped the box the wrong way and she wasn’t sure if that grated on her nerves, or if it was something else entirely. 
“No, I don’t need a hand, Lieutenant Seresin,” she replied firmly, adjusting her grip on the box and her resolve. She turned around again resolutely ignoring him and starting off in her original direction, the corner of the already flimsy cardboard buckling, her belongings shifting inside as the box threatened to give way any moment. 
Sure enough, she heard his footsteps fall into pace beside her, an easy saunter as if he had all the time in the world. “You’re a civilian contractor; you can take it easy with the Lieutenant. You can call me Jake…” he began casually, before his voice dropped just enough to add weight to his next words, “since we’ve already been… acquainted.” 
Ellie’s jaw tightened, her pace slowing until she came to a stop. The box crumpled further under her suddenly tightened grip, and she thought she heard the tape coming away from the bottom of the box. She turned slightly, just enough to level him with a glare, all heat and warning. “I’m aware of what happened. That was… before.” Before she knew he was a real pilot. Before she knew cocky and smug were his default personality traits. “This is work, not—” 
“Not what?” he interrupted carefully, the mischievous glint in his eye almost twinkling now. “Not two, consenting adults who had a good time and now coincidentally find themselves working on the same base?” 
Great. So he hadn’t recently happened upon a semi-serious, short-term memory wiping head injury. How unlucky for her. She’d have to work on quashing the butterflies causing the stupid feelings in her stomach currently. The ones that told her she liked looking at his aggravating, annoying, idiotic, handsome face and hearing the charming southern drawl in his words. What was it that Yan had said? Another girl in a long line of hook ups? 
Ellie felt her face heat and not from the sun continuing to beat down. “That’s exactly what this is, actually. Coincidence. That’s it,” Ellie lifted her chin, defiant in the face of his easy charm, her voice dipping low as a crew member zipped past them in a golf cart. “One night. A one-time thing.” 
This time, he broke into a wry grin, but he didn’t speak, and Ellie felt as if he was waiting for her to continue, so she did. 
“Listen, I don’t know what your angle is, but whatever you think happened between us? It won’t happen again.” She kept her gaze trained on him, looking for the moment it might sink in. “I’m here to do a job, that’s it.” Ellie turned again, squinting against the sun as she continued on her way, her dramatic exit. She’d taken three full strides, the box betraying her confident pace, folding in as a piece of lose tape flapped in the breeze and stuck to her hand as her belongings rolled around, loose at the bottom, before Jake was at her side again.  
His eyebrow quirked up, but he didn’t look fazed. Amused, that was the more fitting word, Ellie thought. He looked entertained. By her struggle, by her refusal of his offer for help, even now as the box pitched, weight shifting oddly as the things inside moved around, uncontrolled. “My angle?” He repeated, almost as if he couldn’t believe it wasn’t butter. His tone was teasing and light. “So, you think I have an angle? You been doing a lot of thinking about me then, sweetheart?”  
Ellie rolled her eyes hard, and she picked up her pace. She pointedly ignored his question about her extracurricular thoughts, which definitely included thoughts of him despite her better judgement, but he didn’t need the confirmation. “I don’t know what it is, yet” the box pitched, and Hangman’s hand moved to right it, but Ellie angled it away from him, the sound of her monitor being smacked by the decorative arc reactor paperweight sending her stomach into a tip. “But yes, I’m sure you have one.”  
Firmly, Ellie pushed down the memory of Halloween. The chemistry between them had been a wildfire, quick, easy, starting as something small, possibly insignificant, and then grew unexpectedly, fast, all-consuming, searing, white hot, uncontrollable, unpredictable. It was only spoiled by seeing him again and realizing that he had been telling her the whole truth and nothing but the truth the entire time. He was a pilot. A Lieutenant. A pilot just like every other pilot she’d ever met. Cocky, self-assured, overly confident, reckless. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Whatever you’re thinking, do me a favour—don’t. You’re not fooling me.”    
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” He responded, smirking as he watched her wrestle with the box each step of the way. Part of her appreciated that he let her, liked that he respected that she’d said no and turned down his help.  
Before she could deflect, Ellie felt her heel catch just enough on an uneven bit of pavement, and the box, already unbalanced, began to teeter forward, the weight of the shifting contents making it more difficult to recover as she simultaneously tried to save her things and steady herself. Instinctively, she reached out to steady it, but Jake’s hand shot out, steadying her with one hand on her elbow and the other catching the box. He was good… really good. 
“Careful there,” he said softly, all hints of ribbing gone, his eyes locked on hers. “It’d be a shame if all that attitude ended up in a broken ankle.” 
Ellie felt a flush of frustration and something else she wasn’t willing to name, his touch igniting something in her she had to fight to press down again. Stiffening against his grasp, she quickly steadied herself and once she was sure the box was as balanced as she could get it, he carefully let go. In the wake of his skin on hers, she felt a coolness and part of her missed the contact. 
“I can handle myself, thank you” she murmured, but there was less bite. She left no room for him to question her assertation as she straightened herself to stand taller. Looking him dead in the eye was a feat, all six feet of him towering over her, even with the added height of her heels. 
“Never said you couldn’t.” He stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the smug look didn’t fade. “But just so we’re clear, if you ever need a hand, I’m around. For whatever. Work-related, of course.” 
Ellie didn’t answer, just tightened her grip on the box, ignoring the way her heart had quickened in that split second of closeness, his hand on her arm a beat longer than necessary after she steadied herself. She turned and continued toward her office, keeping her chin high and pretending she couldn’t feel Jake’s eyes on her. 
As she walked away, she heard him call out, “See you around, Ace.” 
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“303,” Ellie murmured, clicking past the numbered doors, closed and plated with names that weren’t hers. “304,” she blew out a huff of air as her eyes flicked to the next door. 
She’d broken out into a bit of a sweat by the time she’d made it to Comms building 11, her calves aching. Now she knew why that security officer had laughed at the sight of her, the sad box of things in her grip already failing. Between the pace she’d kept up, a speed between confident stride and hectic hustle to get away from the man she’d been trying to avoid, and the distance between the parking lot and here, she’d hit her workout goal for the entire week. 
“305.” 
Rigby, E. Ellie glanced at the nameplate secured to the door and used her elbow to press down on the paddle handle, maneuvering expertly to use her hip to wedge the port open when she heard the click of the latch releasing. 
Turning into the space, Ellie paused for a moment, glancing back at the nameplate on the door for half a second longer when she took in the sheer size of the office. This had to be some kind of mistake, civilian contractors didn’t get windows, especially not eastern facing windows.  
The nameplate stuck to the door still said her name. The number above the port hadn’t changed. This was 305 and that was her name on the door. 
Stepping further inside, Ellie kicked the door closed behind herself, only registering that another person was in the room when they spoke. 
“Hey, Rio.”  
The call sign hit her, broadside, and drew her eyes immediately to the source.  
The man who leaned against the corner of the window ledge on the other side of the room, arms folded across his chest, was silhouetted against the bright morning light streaming in. Though his face had changed, laugh lines deepened around his eyes, the crease between his brow mostly cemented, likely exacerbated by all the young, hot shot pilots he’d watched breeze through Miramar over the years, she would recognize him anywhere. 
Captain Pete Mitchell. Call sign: Maverick. 
Ellie smirked as he stepped forward, taking the box from her without hesitation and sliding it onto the edge of the small coffee table, situated in front of the quaint sitting area which included a couch and an armchair. Free from the weight of the box, Ellie took a deep breath and, hands on hips, surveyed the space. “I think they made a mistake, Mav. This has to be your office. Way too big to be a civilian contractor’s, that’s for sure.”  
Maverick chuckled and Ellie could see the younger version of the man she’d met years ago behind the softened angles of his face. She guessed, in his eyes, she looked a lot different from the kid running around the airfield, causing trouble, getting in the way, herself. “Pulled a few strings. Anything for Hollywood’s kid.” 
She met his wry grin with a smirk of her own, a flash of gratitude filling her with a sense of the calm of familiarity, but she shook her head with a laugh. “Well, thanks for the royal treatment, but I think it’s a bit much.” Ellie gestured to the large space, the window behind Mav looking out onto the airfield, the grand mahogany desk waiting for a touch of personalization, an expanse of empty bookshelves behind it and the sitting area to her right.  
Her “office” at the base in Turkey had been little more than a space between two filing cabinets, open to the coffee station, water cooler and any Air Force pilot who thought she looked unassuming or unaware. She’d accepted that space as workable for over a year. This, by comparison, was at least seventeen steps up. For one, there was a door. “I was half expecting a supply closet, to be honest. Somewhere with more dust and a lot less… light.” 
Maverick closed the space between them, pulling her into a quick hug before he stepped back to really take her in, his hands framing her shoulders. “How’re you doing, kid? How’s Miramar treating you so far? Wouldn’t expect it’s anything Rio couldn’t handle.” 
“Rio,” Ellie tested out the old call sign, the second time she’d heard it from Mav in such a short time, a soft smile pulling up the corner of her lips slightly, “haven’t heard that one in a long time. I’m good.”  
She’d leave out the footnotes that included Hangman, or any possible complications that were attached to him for now. Instead, Ellie took a moment to look at Maverick, she hadn’t been expecting him to be here, hadn’t expected to feel the comfort in the presence of his easy nature. Seeing him settled the anxiety simmering beneath the surface, if only just a little bit. “So, they called you in to keep tabs on me, huh?” 
“Something like that.” A knowing look crossed his face, a smirk, the look of the old Maverick Ellie had known for the majority of her life. Cocky, self-assured, non-conformist, Maverick was the typical archetype of a pilot, at least every one that Ellie had ever encountered. “I figured I’d be a friendlier face than Admiral Simpson. Someone to get you started. I know Miramar’s not the… smoothest place to transition into.” 
Admiral Simpson. Stuffy, hard-lined, hard-nosed, Admiral Simpson. The same Admiral Simpson that had watch-checked and foot-tapped his way through her presentation the other day. The same Admiral she couldn’t help but feel would sideline her project if it meant delaying a mission for even half a minute. On the other hand, there was RADM Stark—welcoming and excited, and yet, there was something unreadable about her. Something that Ellie wasn’t sure she could trust behind the glad to have more estrogen in the room facade. 
There was a reason she had a reputation as someone to impress, there was a reason she was thriving in the man-made, old boys club that was the Navy. 
Ellie made a face, and Maverick simply pressed his lips into a thin line and raised his eyebrows quietly. Maverick understood—he almost always did, especially when it came to following protocol, or rather, breaking protocol. Maverick hadn’t ever been any Admiral’s favourite pilot—especially not Admiral Benjamin, even if his daughter, Penny, thought differently. If anyone could help her navigate the difficult politics of Admirals and strict rules of engagement, it was Maverick. Maverick who, somehow, hadn’t been dishonourably discharged… yet.  
There was no doubt in her mind she would be thankful to have Maverick and his rule-bending in her corner as the go-between. 
“Smooth is overrated,” Ellie scoffed, shrugging. “I’m here to work—maybe make a few of you Navy boys cry in the process, if I’m lucky.” 
Maverick’s laugh was sudden and loud, genuine, the grin on his face wide.  
“Good,” he nodded, approvingly, patting her arm. “Well, in the spirit of smooth in the context of work, I’ve got some updates from the Admirals. Did you want to—” Maverick nodded toward the desk, and it took Ellie a moment to understand what he was suggesting, lost in the soft, blurred edges of nostalgia.  
“Yeah, of course. Better to just dive into the deep end with this, I guess.” 
Ellie rummaged for a second and dug her MacBook from the box, doing her best to ignore that there was a fresh dent in the lid as she swept over to the desk and Maverick settled in on the other side. 
“So I’ve had a chance to go over your reports and the preliminary data from the prototype testing on base in Turkey,” Mav started, his expression unreadable, though his posture suggested a relaxed, nonchalant approach. She supposed this was the most professional he would get with her. “It’s really impressive, Ellie. Your dad, he mentioned you were top of the game, he didn’t mention that you were running circles around the rest of us.” 
“I mean—” Ellie started, she kept her eyes on the screen of her laptop as it started up, “it’s all still relatively untested….” 
She pointedly ignored Mav’s mention of her dad. Hollywood wasn’t exactly a subject she wanted to touch on right now. Especially not with Maverick. She knew where it would lead. 
“Still. Must be something promising to get them to pull you here from halfway across the world.” Mav didn’t push the topic further as she saw him cross his legs, ankle on knee, in her peripheral. “It’s going to make a big difference to a lot of people if we can get it off the ground. I’m putting my weight behind this one, Rio—that counts for something. At least the Admirals think so.” 
“I hope so.” Ellie straightened herself in her chair, MacBook finally at the ready, despite a few broken pixels in the top left corner of the screen. “How do we tackle this then? Do I want to know what kind of resources they’re allocating for this?” 
Maverick paused for a moment, his hands passing over the armrests before folding his hands. “Good news or bad news?” 
“You know me, Mav—news is news.” 
“Well, they’re giving us pilots and significant testing time. They’ve put me on the testing schedules too, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me. We’ll run this as seamlessly as possible and get you the data you need to make this a reality.” Maverick’s fingers drummed on his knee, casual, calm. 
“Okay, that sounds like the good news to me….” Ellie cautiously made notes, her eyes returning to Mav as if she expected the other shoe to drop at any moment. So far, these were all workable resources. “I’ll get Records to pull the pilot files—”   
“No need, I’ve got them here.” Maverick reached to the chair beside him before sliding a folio across the desk toward her, thick with dossiers. “Fifteen pilots. They’re the best the Navy has to offer. All Top Gun graduates, all recalled for the current mission training. They’re giving us four of our choosing.” 
Ellie shrugged, her hand resting on the top of the stack of files, her thumb flipping through the first few tabs with call signs. Bob, Coyote, Duke, she nodded slowly, processing. “Well, to be honest, I was expecting far less—”  
“We have to run the testing of your tech alongside the mission training. They’re giving us two and a half months.” Maverick’s words hung in the air for a long moment, a moment in which Ellie’s eyes snapped to his and she searched for the lie there she knew she wouldn’t find. Maverick didn’t lie, he wasn’t the type. 
And there it was: the other shoe. 
Two and a half months. The initial research alone had taken years. Years of algorithm building, years of theoretical practice, years of begging for funding. Hell, the prototype alone had taken a year to create in a lab with her close oversight. Two and a half months was a drop in the ocean, a near impossibility. This was an out of the frying pan and into the heat situation if Ellie had ever seen one. “No pressure, right?” 
“RADM Stark is in our corner for now—Admiral Simpson has made it clear he’ll recommend moving forward with the mission with or without your tech,” Maverick didn’t sugar coat it and Ellie appreciated that about him—it wasn’t in his nature to soften the blow. “I think you and I would both prefer that it’s with. The more of these pilots we can bring home, the better.” 
Ellie glanced at the stack of files again, folded in the larger tan manila, and nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay then, deep ending this.” 
“Pick your top candidates based on the needs of the tech and the testing. I’m looking forward to reading your report.” Maverick tapped the corner of the desk, standing before shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Let’s say my office. Tomorrow morning, 0800 sharp. Bring coffee.” 
“Careful Mav,” Ellie tutted, her eyebrow raised in a teasing way as she looked up at him over the top of her computer screen, “that sounds an awful lot like protocol. You’ve got a reputation for throwing out the rulebook to uphold around here.” 
Maverick waved her off as he headed for the door and Ellie watched him pause for just a moment, halfway out, his hand on the knob. “This isn’t exactly going to be a walk in the park, kid. But if there’s anyone who can pull this off, it’s you. Whether the name on the door is Neven or not—” Mav’s knuckles rapped against the solid wood, just under the name plate displaying her mother’s maiden name, “—the Nevens have a way of making things happen. You’re where you’re meant to be.” 
“Thanks.” 
Maverick offered her a small smile, cleared his throat and then stepped out of the door. “Oh, Ellie?” Maverick’s head was back through the door, his finger pointing to the shelving behind her. “I brought you a little office warming gift.” 
Ellie quickly found the small potted fern, the decorative pot it sat in painted with Be-LEAF in Yourself in neat block lettering. Ellie lifted the pot, turning with a raised eyebrow, displaying the saying. 
“Penny picked it out.” Mav shrugged, as if he himself were above the plant pun. When Ellie’s gaze didn’t shift, Mav waved a hand and retreated again. “0800 sharp, Rio. Two sugars, no dairy.” 
With a dry chuckle, Ellie turned back to the shelf, her eyes quickly finding something else where the pot had been, hidden. 
The photo in the frame was slightly faded, but the energy captured within the image felt timeless. It was a group shot, clearly taken at Miramar a lifetime ago, the California sun bright overhead, casting shadows across the tarmac where the four men stood, exuding effortless swagger. The aura of young pilots in their prime. 
Maverick was front and center, his signature aviators reflecting a blurred image of the photo taker, a familiar cocky grin stretching across his face. His flight suit was unzipped at the top, revealing the white T-shirt underneath. To his right, Ellie’s eyes focused on her dad. His posture, shoulders relaxed, mirrored Maverick’s, his smile easy but sharp, his trademark confidence that matched his call sign. 
Next to him, Wolfman, her dad’s RIO, his stance a little more casual but no less self-assured. He had an arm slung around Hollywood’s shoulder; their camaraderie apparent even through the static image. His grin was wide and mischievous, like he had just cracked a joke that made Hollywood laugh. Wolfman was always the one for jokes—always inappropriate, never failing to make her dad laugh. 
On the far left, slightly more composed but no less iconic, stood Iceman. His jaw was set, his aviators pushed up into his blond hair as he looked at the camera with a subtle smirk. Even in the informal setting, he carried himself with the unshakable confidence of someone who knew he was the best. 
The four of them stood against the backdrop of an F-14 Tomcat, the jet’s sleek frame gleaming in the sunlight. 
It was a snapshot of a time when they were young, fearless, and seemingly invincible—a moment frozen in time, untouched by the years and the weight of everything that would come after. In the reflection of the glass, Ellie could just make out her own face as she refocused, her eyes soft and her brow pulled together. 
Rolling her eyes, Ellie shook herself out of her own thoughts, scoffing as she snapped the picture face down, its support leg sticking up like that of a dead bug. 
If she wanted to survive here, if she had any hope of making a difference, she would need to keep her head on straight. No more distractions. 
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“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to leave here with something other than lint in your pockets, Bradshaw.”  
Jake grabbed the triangle and racked the balls as Rooster groaned, the wad of bills in the fold that came out of his pocket thinner than it had been at the beginning of the evening. He thumbed out another twenty and placed it on top of the growing pile of cash sitting on the edge of the table before he took a swig of beer. “Keep taking my money, Hangman and you’ll have to tell Nic why I can’t take her out on Friday.”  
“Oh, you want me to tell your girl her boyfriend can’t handle his balls?” Hangman smirked, shifting the triangle up to the foot spot on the table before carefully removing the rack. “You know, I’d be real happy to do that, Rooster.” Grabbing his cue, Jake nodded across the table, “how ’bout I let you break first then, give you a head start.”  
As Rooster leaned over the table to line up the break, Jake grabbed his beer, leaning up against the wall. The late-day sun streamed in through the windows of the Hard Deck, casting long shadows across the scuffed hardwood, the warm glow of golden hour adding a certain charm to the scrappy, Navy watering hole. It was routine by now, mission training, the Hard Deck, hustling pool for a little extra spending money, embarrassing Rooster who always seemed eager to try to prove he was better than Jake at the game. Wash, rinse, repeat. Steady pace for a Tuesday night. But tonight, Jake’s mind wasn’t on the pool game, or the growing pile of Rooster’s cash.  
Instead, it was occupied by thoughts of a particular Radar Tech who had, in two short days, carved out a space in his head: Eleanor Rigby. That surprised Jake—surprised him in ways that took the routine out of his usual one-night M.O. 
After he’d seen her that morning, struggling with the box, almost comically, and she refused his help outright, the end of the day had come quickly. Quicker than Jake had anticipated. Between the packed mission training and the maneuver refreshers, his head had been on a swivel, his eyes peeled, but he hadn’t managed to catch her again. 
The sharp crack of the cue ball breaking and scattering the striped and solids, pulled Jake’s focus back to the game. Rooster managed to sink one solid, smirking as he stepped back to find himself for another viable shot.  
“Nice shot, Bradshaw,” Jake drawled, his eyes twinkling as he set down his bottle on the edge of a nearby high-top table. “I think this might be the first time you’ve hit something clean all week.”  
Rooster’s breathy laugh sounded for just a moment, his eyes sizing up the next shot. “Just wait, Bagman,” Rooster murmured, leaning over to line up his cue again. “By the time I’m done, you’ll be asking me for a loan.”  
“Bold for someone down to their last twenty.” Jake smirked, chalking his own cue. He waited for Rooster to take his shot—missing a corner pocket by a hairsbreadth—before stepping in to size up the table, tutting. “Might have to start playing some tunes for tips,” he nodded over to the piano in the corner. 
They rotated between trading teasing banter and goading remarks for a moment before Jake’s inquiring mind got the better of him, swimming with thoughts of her face, the way she looked at him within the new frame that existed outside of their Halloween encounter. 
“So,” Jake started, casually, nonchalant, as he chose his next shot, Rooster having missed his solid, and bent to take aim, lining up a striped ball with the corner pocket. “We have a new radar tech or something—Rigby?” Jake played dumb, played disinterested, acted as if he didn’t know her name, pretended he didn’t like the way the mark his mouth had left on her neck stuck out in sharp contrast to her put together, professional look the other day. 
As he looked up from under his lashes, Jake could see Rooster pause mid-sip of his beer, eyebrow raised. “Rigsy? Radar Tech, Engineer I think the proper term is. She’s Nic’s best friend. Her roommate now too, actually.” Rooster set his beer down carefully, “Why? What’s your angle?” 
Rigsy. So Rooster knew her outside of work. Jake carefully stored the information, his eyes never leaving the cue ball and the line of aim with the striped ball. “No angle,” he replied evenly, taking the shot and sinking the striped ball and another in its path with ease. “Just curious. Seems like she’s got the brass wrapped around her finger already.” 
“That’s because she’s good at what she does,” Rooster said, stepping away to the bar and grabbing two more bottles of beer before he returned to the table. “Smart, like, real smart. No nonsense, she won’t put up with any crap. Not the usual type you’d chase, though,” 
Jake took the shot, and the ball ricocheted off the pocket point in a way he hadn’t expected, missing the striped ball he’d lined up with that pocket, wide. Straightening, he chuckled, leaning against his cue stick, stepping back for Rooster’s turn. “Who says I’m chasin’, Bradshaw?”  
Rooster’s response was a snort as he stepped up to the table. “Sure, man, whatever you say,” he glanced up at Jake, a knowing look crossing his face, eyes incredulous, eyebrow peaked. “You don’t exactly have a reputation for curiosity without motive, Seresin.” 
Jake smirked, but didn’t respond, moving in to take another shot instead when Rooster missed his second shot and Jake sunk two more stripes in quick succession. He felt Rooster’s gaze lingering, and despite trying to play it cool, he couldn’t shake the curiosity that had been brewing since he’d seen her on Halloween. More so since seeing her here, at Miramar again, of all places. When she’d let him come back to her place and he’d fucked her until her knees shook, he hadn’t expected to see her again. Now, now he thought about what it would have been like if she’d known his name then, what it would sound like for her to moan it, beg him for more. It was enough to drive him dangerously close to mad. 
Jake missed the next shot, his mind hazed with the thought. Stepping back, he folded his arms across his chest and tried to act uninterested. “Say I’m curious for… curiosity’s sake: what’s her deal? Anything I should know?” 
“Oh shit—you really don’t know…” Rooster raised an eyebrow, taking a deep swig of his beer, studying the label as he tried to contain his smirk, before replying. “You don’t know who her old man is, do you?” 
Jake froze slightly at that, his brow furrowed, eyes narrowed at the pilot across the table from him. “Her old man?” 
Rooster chuckled and shook his head, his tone low as he tapped the cue stick on the floor. “Rick Neven. Hollywood. Shot down in combat on a mission over the Gulf. Made sure his WSO got out first and ejected too late just above hard deck. Broke his back in three places. Docs said it was nothing short of a miracle he was alive, but that he’d never walk again.” 
Jake blinked, the weight of the name hitting him immediately. Hollywood. One of the legends. The same pilot whose photo was framed alongside Maverick and Iceman, Goose and Slider in the halls all around base. He took a breath, trying to process it, while trying his best to keep composure. “You tellin’ me she’s Neven’s kid?”  
Rooster nodded, continuing as if he knew the exact thoughts running through Jake’s mind. “Yeah, man. That’s Rigsy’s dad. Big shadow to live under. She’s been pretty much anti-pilot her whole life, from what I’ve gathered.” 
Jake felt the words settle in his gut, realizing just how tangled this was becoming. Ellie wasn’t just some random civilian contractor; she came with baggage, a history that had been shaped by the same world they both lived in—but from a very different perspective. And after their Halloween encounter, he suddenly understood why she hadn’t mentioned anything about it. It also explained the guardedness in her eyes, the bite in her sarcasm. 
“She doesn’t really talk about him much,” Rooster added, his voice dropping slightly, as if sensing Jake’s shift in mood. Rooster had always been good at that, even if Jake didn’t want to admit it. “Nic says it’s a sore spot. That and her folks splitting.” 
Jake set his cue down, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to wrap his head around it. “Damn.” 
“You’re in over your head with that one, Hangman,” Rooster said with a knowing smirk. “She’s not your usual type, and if you somehow manage to get past all those SAMs she’s throwing out, she sure as hell won’t make it easy.” 
“Wouldn’t be any fun if she did, Rooster.” Jake let out a dry chuckle, picking up his beer and taking a long drink. “Wouldn’t be any fun if she did.” 
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tags bbs: @hookslove1592 @mrsevans90 @avengersfan25 @jbennsquared @dempy @obsessed-fan-alert @djs8891 @lunatygerqueen @khouse712 @alipap3 @yuckosworld @marvelouslyme96
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jackiequick · 1 year ago
Text
Meeting your boyfriends sister | Hangman fanfic ✨
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Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Amber ‘Skysolo’ Kazansky
Timeline: Post-Top Gun Maverick
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Summary: She didn’t think she would ever be nervous about something like meeting the family. She has done it plenty of times before but what happens you boyfriend Hangman Seresin’s sister comes to town?
Charcters mentioned: Elena "Enigma" Seresin, Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado, Georgia “Peach” Wells and etc.
Top Gun Maverick AU
——
Amber Kazansky had been though a lot in her lifetime so far. From moving around as a child to different states to watching her aunt Carol die in her teens. Hell she has seen her father go through cancer and survive it.
She has seen friends break up, others get married and move on with their lives. So it was something she was fine with.
It was part of life, meeting people and trying to see if things worked. And if they did, you meet your lover’s friends. They get to meet your parents, seeing if they approve of your relationship.
But meeting her boyfriend’s sister? That was not one of them. So imagine her surprise when she founds out she’s in town for the weekend.
She. Was. Actually. Terrified! 
Yeah she Amber has met a boyfriend or two’s brother and sister in the past. But a naval base boyfriend’s siblings? Never. Jake Seresin was her first boyfriend to be a pilot and a damn good one. Sadly he wasn’t good at breaking news like this.
Because he decided to break the news right before they went to sleep the night before. He said he had something to tell over dinner but forgot about it. But he remembered it right before he turned off the bathroom light and jumped into bed with her.
And he said it so casually too! Like it was the most normal thing in the world?! She knew he had siblings but she wasn’t expecting for her to come over to visit her in the next 24 hours.
Which lead her to find herself roughly tapping her French tips against her desk the next morning. Biting the tip of her nail on one hand as the other typed away furiously on her keyboard. She was filing in information for her father. His assistant, Mindy, sent a small stack of paperwork for her transfer over into spreadsheets within the next couple of days.
She was so focused on her laptop screen, having Rocket Man playing from her speakers, that she didn’t hear friend come in.
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Georgia smiled chatting with Bradley at the door as he gave one kiss goodbye before she walked in. She hung up her jacket and set her lunch down on table nearby, grabbing her laptop from the cart. She left it charging earlier beforehand.
“Hey Amber.” She said with a peachy grin on her face as she started rambling about her morning. It was the cutest thing. Her eyes fell onto the blonde who was only half playing attention to what happened, making the brunette pause in her tracks.
“Uhh, earth to Sky? Amber, honey? Hello?” Georgia asked, waving a hand in the air and sighed, “Kazansky!”
“Huh?! What? I’m here, sir!” She yelled snapping out of it, ripping her fingernails away from the tips of her teeths, “Oh, what’s up sweets?”
“I was talking to you and you weren’t listening. That’s what’s up! What’s going on? Your usually cracking a joke by now.”
“You know. I can be very busy, busy, busy bee!”
“Ha! No. That ain’t it. Your always on a semi-busy monthly schedule but this is different. What happened? Was it Rooster and Jen?”
“No..”
“Uhh, hmm. Did Coyote say something stupid again?”
“No he didn’t. Neil didn’t do anything either.”
“Ohh was it Cyclone’s girl Valkyrie?! She’s a tough cookie!”
“No it wasn’t. Nor was it anyone else like Frostbite.”
Georgia’s eyes widen and gasped, “You and Jake had a fight? What did his sorry southern ass to do you? I’ll talk to him. I’ll get Phoenix and Frost as my backup. No one hurts my girl and gets away with it!”
Amber couldn’t help but laugh as she leaned against her chair. Peach was such a doll sometimes. Always so sweet and charmingly spiritual with the way she carried herself. She tend to get nervous and annoyed sometimes but other than that she was well..a peach!
Honestly she needed that today. A laugh from a friend.
“That’s not exactly what Jake said…it wasn’t a fight! We didn’t fight each other for anything. Oh god, I’m sweating. I don’t like this.” Amber admitted with a soft chuckle.
“Oh god something is up if you’re sweating bullets out of nervous. Come on, spill it out!” Georgia encouraged with a certain look.
“I’m meeting my boyfriends older sister today!”
“OH MY GOD! That’s great. From what I received from past relationships, that’s a good thing. That means he likes you, a lot! I’m so happy for you!”
“Now is not the time to be supportive! I’m freaking out, what if she doesn’t like me? What if she hates me and tells Jake stop dating me?! Tell him to aim higher?! That I suck! Cause technically, it’s kinda my fault I put him on a death defining mission to come back to Top Gun. Oh god she’s gonna hate me!”
Georgia stood there with her jaw dropped onto the damn floor. This was one of the first time she ever seen Amber Nic Kazansky in such a frenzy. This woman was always cool, calm and collected from the moment she met her. Giving her advice, by saying if everything is okay and sending a message to everyone on deck she meant every word she ever said.
Yeah sure, she had her moments where she lost her cool like an X-Men during a fight with Wolverine or something. Living up to her callsigns. Like when Jake and Bradley were arguing in the classroom or when Cyclone refused to listen to her and Maverick during the missions they went on.
But this?!
Here she stood in her office freaking out over meeting the family. It was honestly kinda hilarious to her. If she wasn’t such a good friend she would’ve recorded this and sent this whole thing as a video to the group chat.
But honestly it was cute though. It reminded people like her that the Kazansky family was just as human as the rest of them.
It was Georgia turn to calm her down.
“Hey, Amber. Amber, honey look at me. Look at me. Good. Just relax you’re gonna be fine.” Georgia encouraged, holding her shoulders.
“Wh-how? Sorry. How did you react to meeting Jen? She’s practically like a sister to Rooster.” Amber replied, taking a breath.
“Yeah well, I was freaking out cause her dad is sorta a legit legend, but I found her that she’s a total goofball. So maybe eh-what’s her name?”
“Elena.”
“Right, pretty name. Maybe Elena is the same way, just some cool chick. So go on, your gonna be late.”
“But what if she doesn’t like me and Jake didn’t say anything about me? Oh god what if she hates blondes?”
“Ok, now your rambling. Relax, you just gotta prove why your the first Mrs. Hangman. That ring on your fingers means something, right?”
“Right. Right..i yeah, I got this.”
“You got this! Now go on, I have a meeting with Wraith now.”
“Okay but..”
She didn’t have a moment to say anything else because Georgia practically pushed her out the door. She could’ve sworn she’s rubbing off on the brunette with her actions. Amber relaxed her shoulders, she was right. Elena probably a cool girl, relaxed and lay back.
But she was also beauty.
She seen the picture of her last night before she went to sleep. She was stunning with beautiful long blonde hair, pretty eyes glowing like a goddess of the sun and a lovely smile that take someone’s breath away. From just her pictures she seemed like the best women in the world.
A ray of sunshine wrapped up in pretty dress.
Hell she wanted to date her!
The moment Amber entered the cafeteria, her heart stopped. She saw her.
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God she was even prettier in person. Laughing in mid conversation with Frostbite—Rachel, chatting about god knows what. 
Elena was enjoying herself greatly. It made her smile.
Her outfit was so sweet, her smile was sung by as she laughed and her makeup made her shine.
Amber pushed her hair out of face walking over to the pair who sat at the table, chatting about they’re active services. Once she got closer she heard them a lot clearer.
“Oh stop it!” Elena said mid laugh waving her hand, “You’re the one who got her first air to air kill last week. You should be overjoyed! It’s amazing.”
“Ok it’s not as cool as you! Yeah sure, Jenny and Wraith encouraged me to do it but still.” Rachel added with a chuckle, “You have been to so many different places. That’s awesome.”
Both girls acknowledge her walking over to them.
Frost smiled sheepishly and chuckles, “Hey, have you met Elena? She’s new.”
“No, I haven’t.” Amber repiled with a soft smile turning to the blonde, “Hi.”
“Hey.” Elena said with a smile, “Nice dress.”
“T-thanks. So is yours, I love the pattern!”
“Thank you! I got it from H&M, big sale last month.”
Rachel got a phone call and realized it was one of their friends, excusing herself as she left with a small wave. That left both women to stand there awkwardly chuckling, before Elena realized what her was name again. She remembered her brother telling that her that his girlfriend worked here in the building.
She assumed this was her? But she could be wrong.
So she smiled pointing to the seat in front of her and said, “Sit. Please. Sorry I’m a little nervous, which is rare because I’m not like this.”
“It’s fine, I’m nervous too. Jake has told me about you.” Amber repiled with a smile, sitting down across from her. 
“Ohhh! You’re his girlfriend? I’m sorry, he didn’t even show me a picture of you, just told me your name. He just told me that I’ll probably bump into you today.”
“Hahaha! He told me the same thing, he can silly sometimes.”
“No, he can be an idiot sometimes.”
Both girls chuckled breaking the ice a bit.
“He just said, ‘hey since your coming here for the weekend! Come meet my girlfriend.’ That’s all he said.” Elena explained with a chuckle, “I was supposed to be here last week but my boss decided to change my schedule.”
“No, it’s okay! Things happen, my schedule ain’t always the clearest either. Literally Jake just threw that information at me last night so casually. I was freaking out…I mean, you sound cool according him.” Amber repiled as she shyly smile.
Elena found it cute. How did her brother get a someone like her? She seemed so sweet and honestly pretty nice. She felt bad she didn’t get information from her baby brother beforehand, she was completely clueless about this girl.
But it a good thing in her opinion, a clean slate.
“Sounds like him, she tends to tell people stuff and never make himself clear. He’s like a bird strike, I guess.” Elena said with a smile, thinking about all the times her little brother messed up.
“Oh your correct. He knocks someone off course and brings you along for the right. But it’s a nice ride.” Amber added thinking about something and smile, “How about we start over?”
“How so?”
“It’s kinda been a long week for us and I think we should just relax..”
“I like that. Actually I love that! Good idea.”
Amber smiled holding out her hand for the blonde to shake and said, “Hi, I’m Amber Nic Kazansky. Very nice to meet you, Ms. Seresin.”
“Haha! Nice to meet you too, Ms. Kaz—” Elena replied, stopping herself realizing what she just heard and laughed, “Wait! Kazansky?! You’re the Admiral’s daughter?”
“Hahaha yes. Why? I’m sorry that last name kinda surprises people.”
“Surprises people?! How did-? No offense, but i thought the admiral’s kid would have guards nearby or something…sorry.”
It was Elena’s turn to become shocked and a bit nervous but excited all at the same time.
She didn’t know her baby brother was dating the admiral’s kid?! For how long, she didn’t know. He aimed high! Respectfully, she would date an admiral’s kid too if they let her. Even steal her brother’s girlfriend off his hands!
She was impressed. Very impressed.
Amber chuckled, “It’s okay. People like to make rumors around here.”
“Real question, how did my brother pull you? No offense, but he’s a little stupid.” Elena replied with a laugh.
“I guess I like ‘em a little dumb.”
“Oh I like you.”
“Hahaha, the Seresin siblings are one of a kind.”
“And clearly my brother has good taste in women. He got it from me! Where do you work?”
“I was gonna ask you the same thing!”
“You first.”
“Okay um. I’m a training officer for recruitment here. I overlook plenty of paperwork for research, send people on missions and organize them.”
“Lieutenant, huh? Respect. I’ll love to see your office some time.”
“What about you?”
“Oh! I work as a lead engineer at the aerospace engineering firm.”
“Wait! Really? That’s so damn so cool.”
“Thanks! I worked on designing cutting-edge aircraft with advanced maneuvering capabilities. All kind of planes.”
“How have we not met before?”
“I have no idea.”
“My uncle Mav, he was the one to worked with you guys for a project a while back. Uh, The Darkstar projects?”
“Yes! That was him?! Everyone was talking about it! He reached so high on the list that day and survived being ejected.”
Both girls laughed, kept chatting and smiling the whole time.
Amber decided to walk her around the building and probably head out to lunch later on. Elena smiled liking that idea very much, holding the door for her as they walked out of the room. Realizing they had nothing to worry about, it was all Jake’s fault that they were so nervous in the first place.
Little did they know Jake Seresin was sitting across the room with Rachel, Javy and Neil watching the whole thing, with his jaw on the floor. He glad they didn’t hate each other or anything but he wasn’t expecting for it to go so well.
Neil was laughing at his reaction and muttering, “Your screwed now.”
“W-what just happened?” Jake asked, sipping his glasses of a water.
Rachel snorted, “I think your sister just stole your girl. Honestly i don’t blame Amber, she’s cool. I’ll date her.”
That was when Jenny walked in with a smirk hearing her and asked, “Who would you date, Frosty?”
“Uh huh? What? Shut up, I’mma shut up now.” Rachel said, rested her head on her shoulder.
“Weirdo.” Jenny repiled with a scoff, grins at Javy and asks, “What we talking about?”
Javy grinning back and chuckles, “The Seresin siblings.”
“I made a huge mistake letting my sister and girlfriend meet, didn’t I?” Jake added downing his drink with a sigh.
His friends just laughed.
Thanks for reading this one! Tell me what did you think about it?
Remember to like, comment and share ✈️
Tags: @mandylove1000 @gaminggirlsstuff @hanlueluver @gcthvile @topgun-imagines @hangmanbrainrot @sherloquestea @rooster-84 @whitewiccan @msrochelleromanofffelton @buckysteveloki-me @djs8891 and etc
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mxdnvghts · 7 days ago
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🌼 introducing myself !
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SUMMARY: introduction of me & fandoms i will be writing for + the drafts i’ll be posting within december
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introduction: hello! my name’s rose, i’m a multifandom writer and editor! i love reading stories on here and i’ve been working on a few of my own drabbles to post soon! they’re longer pieces of work but i hope you will enjoy them :)
writing is a big passion of mine and i’m super excited to start sharing my head cannons for characters and the silly fics i’ll be writing to post soon 🌼
i’ve been writing fanfics for a bit, especially on wattpad a few years back, i think tumblr is a more matured and better version of it :3
anyway! i love marvel, i have a tiktok editing account “midnvghts”, (trying to edit frequently again) i love music (taylor swift, halsey, gracie abrams, kendrick, and soo much more..)
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fandoms i’m in:
glen powell: tyler owens, gary johnson, ben
hugh jackman: logan howlett (more soon)
tom hardy: eddie brock & johnny davis (more soon)
tom blyth: billy the kid & coriolanus snow
josh hutcherson: mike schmidt, sean anderson, peeta mellark, clapton davis, billy (burn)
aaron taylor johnson: quicksilver, kraven (more soon)
miscellaneous: MARVEL: peter parker, (mainly andrew and tom, but tobey is inevitable), tony stark, steve rogers, bucky barnes (more soon?)
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first post(s):
i plan on posting a kraven/sergei kravinoff draft soon! i’m pretty proud of how it’s turning out (BTW: some of my works will be NSFW and this first fic already is 😭) can’t help it he’s so hottie in the movie, which ALL the comic related characters in marvel will be based off the movie characters NOT the comic ones, so if something isn’t accurate to the comics that’s why lol
so my first post: kraven/sergei kravinoff and probably my second post too
afterwards: gary johnson fanfic anyone? i have so many ideas for glen’s character in hit man, and i never see any fics about him 😭
anyway.. that’s about it! i hope you guys enjoy reading my fics and seeing my page, can’t wait to connect with people who share similar interests!
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themorriganwitch · 2 years ago
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Top Gun Maverick - How the Characters met their s/o and some HeadCanons for their relationship
Summary:  How the Characters met their s/o and some HeadCanons for their relationship
Characters: Rooster, Hangman, Bob, young Mav and Fanboy
Warnings: 18+, MDNI
Words: 1,8k
Masterlist
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Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin:
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-       contrary to many believes I am convinced that Jake married young.
-       either his high school or his college sweetheart
-       definitely enemies to lovers
-       it took them a while to figure their feelings out bc Jake was a teasing / flirting jerk and his s/o was not having any of it.
-       they are the kind of couple who are extremely into PDA that makes everyone around them feeling cringey.
-       also, a very competitive couple but in a healthy way where both parties are thriving to help the other becoming the best version of themselves.
-       always doing their work outs together
-       they probably had their first child soon after graduating college, 6 months married when Jake had just joined the Navy.
-       it was not always an easy road, but they always worked through it.
-       I am convinced they have a bunch of kids, probably between 3 or 4 with one set of twins.
-       Jake passed out after he found out he will be a dad of twins.
-       during the TGM time frame his kids were between the ages 10 – 5.
-       I see Jake being the chilled parent, while his s/o is the one who is a bit stricter in her parenting.
-       as well as with his wife, Jake always makes sure to reassure his kids to follow their dreams.
-       at least one of the twins (a boy and a girl) when not both joined the navy, giving their mom a heart attack.
-       After Jake got a permanent Job without being on deployments that often, he totally bought a ranch with some cows, so he would have an apology to wear his cowboy hat the whole time.
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Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw :
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-       Bradley never really believed that he was capable of having a relationship.
-       Everyone he ever loved either died or betrayed him, so he closed off from an early age.
-       That’s why he only had one-night stands or casual friends with benefits scenarios for the first 30 years of his life.
-       Bradley is made for the friends to lovers’ trope.
-       Probably met his s/o via friends, maybe a friend of Phoenix who he met a few years after they graduated Top Gun
-       She is probably quite a bit younger than him.
-       They were friends for at least 1 ½ years, until Bradley trusted her with his whole heart.
-       It was on his dad’s death anniversary, which he normally spends alone, when his s/o showed up on his door, knowing he would need someone today.
-       She is the first person who has seen him cry since his mom died.
-       That was also the day he knew that she is not just a friend, but he is in love.
-       At first, he was totally overwhelmed, never kneeing the feeling of real love.
-       He probably needed some space after this, processing everything.
-       But then showed up on their doorstep, confessing his feelings.
-       After that day the both of them were inseparable
-       They are each other’s best friend, partner in crime and ride or die.
-       He is also the person who would never judge his partner for having mental health issues, he would be incredibly supportive cause he knows what the darkness feels like
-       They probably have 2 or three kids, 2 girls and one boy (who is obviously called Nick)
-       Roosters wife is probably pregnant with baby number 2 during the TGM time frame.
-       They own a huge beach house in San Diego
- They are hosting the best barbecues
-       They also have 2 dogs, probably golden retrievers which Rooster named Iceman and Maverick (he still thinks about getting a chihuahua and calling him Hangman)
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Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd :
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-       Robert knows his s/o since birth.
-       Definitely childhood friends to lovers
-       Their moms were best friend since middle school and as soon as they knew they will have each a boy and a girl, they had the dream of their kids ending up together.
-       That’s exactly the reason it took the two of them years to actually come together.
-       Both were quite good friends but their moms’ making comments about them coming together is just extremely cringe and strange for them (in their teen years)
-       Their ways parted when they choose different colleges and only saw each other on holiday breaks when they came home.
-       They would then spend every minute together by watching movies or driving through the city at night, talking about life.
-       It was when Bob announced he will join the Navy that his s/o realized that she is in love with him.
-       And it took Bob 8 months longer, until he had to eject out of a plane for the first time, terrified for his dear life that he realized the same.
-       After Bob graduated Top Gun, he made his way back home and the both of them shared their feelings with each other that night.
-       Everything about their relationship screams true love.
-       Their moms both cried when the two announced they were engaged, 3 years after coming together.
-       Due to some issues, it took Bob and his s/o a couple of years to get pregnant.
-       But after a couple of years, they welcomed their only daughter in this world.
-       Bob is definitely a girl dad.
-       And he would throw the world best sleep overs for his daughter.
-       With some homemade popcorn and different themes, he crafted some décor for
-       Due to their fertility issues, they were probably still trying doing the TGM time frame, so this would probably a topic Bob and Phoenix would have talked often about in private.
-       And she was just as happy as the grandmas to be, when she found out she was going to be an aunt.
-       Bob and his s/o  bought a huge house in their hometown shortly after their daughter was born
-       This house is also the spot where every Dagger Celebration takes place
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Young Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell:
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-       His relationship to his s/o reminds me of the lyrics in Taylor Swifts song   Mine
-       ‘You made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter.’
-       His tropes also totally scream summer romance and the one that got away.
-       It’s also giving Baby and Johnny (Dirty Dancing)
-       He probably met her the summer when he was graduating Top Gun
-       He was in his late twenties and she probably in her early to mid/twenties.
-       She was probably in law or med school, trying to make her daddy proud, but she is a free spirit who is giving artsy vibes.
-       Probably painted Mav on his Bike or in a cockpit a couple of times
-       Their relationship progressed fast and was pretty passionate.
-       Mav loved the sneaking around and encouraged his s/o to step up to her dad and follow her dreams.
-       They had the perfect summer romance, with those cinematic moments (like riding his bike in the rain and sharing passionate kisses after)
-       Their whole world shattered after Goose died.
-       It was the end of the summer and s/o had to leave for university a couple of days after
-       They were both heartbroken but agreed that every summer romance must come to an end.
-       They were both deeply in love, without telling the other.
-       Their heartbreak was horrifying.
-       But they never stopped thinking about each other.
-       It took them 5 years to reunite, meeting up in San Diego again, where reader opened a little cafe for artist after quitting college.
-       It was a beautiful reunion, which lasted about 8 days until Mav got deployed.
-       They both agreed that a stable relationship with a house, dog and kids were not what was in the cards for them at that point, so they kept in casual.
-       It was about 15 years later, when Mav was in his mid 40’s and his s/o in her late 30’s that they agreed on settling down, in their own kind of way.
-       Mav opened his shop and they both agreed on buying a black Labrador which they called Goose.
- Being the dagger squads second set of parents and working with them through their life crises
-       Their life is not what others, especially people in the navy, would call conventional.
-       But neither Mav nor his s/o is conventional and that’s the exact reason they love each other so deeply.
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Mikey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia:
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-       He is the dream guy for every fangirl.
-       He probably met his s/o on a convention.
-       This or it was a blind date which was set up by Payback.
-       The two of them went out for Burger and Fries in a typical American Diner for their first date, where they talked and talked about every fandom they had ever been in
-       They always have something to talk about
-       The two of them will go to Comic Con and Fan Events together, wearing the cutest couple costumes ever.
-       Gamer Boyfriend and Book Lover Girlfriend
-       He is the one to re-create book scenes with
-       Like standing in a doorframe and so on
-       He will beta read every fanfiction his s/o ever wrote, giving great critique and compliments.
-       Each other’s safe place
-       After always being judged for being a part of several fandoms from early ages on, it is very important for them to never judge their partner and making sure both of them are feeling safe.
-       Huge discussions after which fictional characters their kids will be named after
-       They probably have two boys, who are 4 years apart.
-       The first one was a couple of weeks old during the TGM time frame.
-       Its broke Mickeys heart to leave his girlfriend and his newborn son alone, but Payback made sure to bring his WSO back to his family.
-       They married shortly after the Uranium Mission, Payback being Fanboys best man.
-       This wedding definitely had some Pinterest inspiration from different fandoms.
-       For the name of their second son, the dagger squad had to vote between different fantasy names.
-       Mickey lost after trying to get the others vote for Anakin Legolas Garcia
-       The two of them hosting gaming events for Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and Hangman on the one side, while his wife, Bob, Phoenix, and Rooster had their book club meeting on the other side of the living room.
-       They also make the greatest Christmas cards, every year a different fantasy theme.
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callsignmayhem · 3 months ago
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Kisses on fingertips
A call.
One simple call from them.
That's all it took.
For you to shatter completely.
The day had started just like every other day before, with the routine you had honed down over the years to get the kids to school on time. After dropping them off, he went to work, you went back home and later ran some errands.
You were just finishing up putting the groceries away, when the call came.
Without checking the caller ID, you hit the green button, answering the call.
“Hello?”
“Am I speaking with Mrs. Seresin?”
“Yes, you are”
“I am deeply sorry to bother you, but…”
Whatever the voice on the other end of the call said, was a complete haze to you apart from the part that you should come to the base as soon as possible.
So you did.
And how you wish you hadn't.
Because nothing could have prepared you for the news you were about to get the minute you stepped in those doors.
You saw both admiral Tom Kazansky and captain Pete Mitchell standing there waiting for you in the middle of the lobby, dressed in the white uniforms, forlorn looks on their faces.
Little bit to the left were his friends, his squadron, the people who he flew with almost daily. Also dressed in their whites, having similar expressions as the two men before your eyes.
As you walked forward, you looked down to admiral Kazansky’s hands, realizing he's holding something. As soon as you see what he's holding, your eyes get blurry with unshed tears.
Both captain Mitchell and admiral Kazansky take a step towards you, as you come to a stop just meters away from them.
Captain Mitchell stops a mere meter away as admiral Kazansky comes to stand right in front of you, placing the items in your right hand.
Few tears slip down your cheeks, when you receive the confirmation for what the items are. The white cowboy hat you are holding in your hand drops down to the floor.
They are dog tags and a picture that is slightly burned from the bottom right corner.
His dog tags with his wedding ring dangling in the chain.
His sunglasses.
Your picture.
Flag on the pole outside at half-mast.
People around you dressed in uniforms.
Your legs give out under you, and you collapse down to your knees right next to the hat. Still holding the items. Tears running down your cheeks. Admiral Kazansky kneeling in front of you, letting you sob against his shoulder.
You are watching as the wings get punched into his casket, silent tears streaming down your face.
Your kids are standing next to you, your oldest Benjamin holding your middle ones, Cade's hand and your youngest Eden holding the pant leg of Benjamin.
You walk forward as soon as the last person around the casket has left.
Crouching down, you place your forehead against the smooth wood surface of the casket. The folded flag rests on your lap.
After a while you straighten up, pressing a kiss on your fingertips and placing them on the surface right next to the golden wings.
The sky is greying by the minute, a few droplets of water starting to come down from the skies above. It's as if the sky is mourning with you.
Arriving home after the funeral, you just stand in the hallway that opens up to a living room, staring down at the flag in your hands. Everything seems so dull, like all the colors got sucked out of the world.
You walk to the kitchen, behind you on the shelf is a white cowboy hat, and on the floor there is a pair of worn boots.
In the kitchen you gently place the flag down on the table.
“Mom?”
You look at your seventeen year old son, who has a sorrowful look in his eyes.
Eyes that are just like his dad's.
You look at his features, every one of them bears a resemblance to him.
Him.
You can't even get yourself to think, let alone mention his name.
Jake.
At that thought your eyes start filling with tears again, Benjamin wraps his arms around you, soon you feel two sets of smaller arms wrap around you as well.
Cade.
Eden.
The four of you just stand in the kitchen while outside your home it's a downpour of rain, the flag still folded and lying on the table behind you. One piece of you is missing.
At first it seemed so hard to get back to the routines, even with help from others.
But you knew it was what Jake would have wanted, for you to keep going. If not for your sake, then for the kid's sake.
But day after day, week after week, year after year, the heartache gets tolerable even though it never fully goes away.
Years go by in a blur, the kids are growing fast, going through all the heartbreaks when trying to find the one and only for them, the first time your kids bring girlfriends and boyfriends home, when they eventually get married and countless other memories and traditions.
You remember waiting at the hospital waiting room, with Cade and Eden and their spouses.
Footsteps echo on the floor.
“Mom”
You look up at Benjamin.
He smiles at you, offering his hand. You take it, standing up and walking with him down the corridor. Benjamin stops in front of a door, and opens it. He guides you inside, where you see Mia, Benjamin's wife lying on the bed.
Benjamin goes over to her, kisses her temple and lifts someone up from her arms.
“Mom, I'd like you to meet your grandson”
You take a careful step forward, looking down at the sleeping bundle in your son's arms. You gently trail a finger down the newborn's cheek.
“His name is Jake”
You freeze, look up at Benjamin and see his soft smile. Your eyes get watery.
Benjamin places the newborn in your arms, and as soon as he's done that, baby Jake opens his eyes.
There you see the eyes you have always loved staring back at you.
You sob a little at that.
“He's got the eyes”
“I know, mom” Benjamin places an arm around you, both of you watching down at the baby you are holding.
Over the years, you are blessed with more grandchildren, even with one great grandchild.
One day you are watching your family at the BBQ party that is being held at Benjamin's home. The strays of sun hit you in the face, making you inhale the late summer air. The wind blows some leaves that have already dropped from the trees around the yard.
You get up from the stairs you have been sitting on, and walk to Benjamin. He hears you walking towards him, and turns around.
“Everything okay, mom?”
You nod.
“Go gather you sister and brother, there's some place I'd like to visit”
Soon you are walking with them among rows of headstones, until you stop in front of the one you were looking for. The one with a small jet engraved on the right corner of the headstone, as per your request.
As the wind blows and the sun slowly is disappearing behind the horizon, you wrap the cardigan a little bit tighter around you.
You place the wild flowers down in front of the headstone, reading the engravings.
“In loving memory of our beloved:
Lt. Jake Seresin,
a father, husband and a son.”
You kiss your fingertips, placing them against the cold stone, feeling a slight warm sensation under your fingers as if the headstone recognizes you. That was the last time you visited the cemetery.
You are lying in a warm bed, surrounded by your kids.
Benjamin is by your right side, whilst Cade and Eden are by the left side.
You fondly look around the room at the people you love. You cough, and Benjamin offers you to take a sip of water from the glass, but you shake your head. You take a breath.
“I need you to… promise me one last thing”
They nod.
“After I'm gone bury me… next to your father”
“Of course, mom”
“And everything else can be found on your testament, mom, we know”
You smile at them.
“Eden, would you hand over that box from the side table?”
Eden turns and grabs a small dark wooden box with Seresin engraved in the lid.
She passes it to you, and you trace your finger across the engraved name. Pressing a small kiss on your fingertips, placing them against the lid. Your eyes shut momentarily but soon open again.
You open the box, taking whatever items are inside out and placing them on the bed.
Stack of pictures and a letter from along the way.
Dog tags with his wedding ring in the chain.
His worn sunglasses.
The necklace he gave to you on your first anniversary.
His necklace that has your and the kids' names engraved.
You lift up your necklace with shaky hands, placing it on Eden's palm, closing her hand around it. She always has adored the necklace and now it's hers.
Next you take out Jake's necklace, giving it to Cade. He has been fascinated by it since he was a small boy, so you decided it should be his.
Then you pull out the dog tags, lowering them down on Benjamin's palm.
“Mom, I can't take the tags”
“I might've worn them every day since his passing but they are yours now”
You take off your wedding ring, handing it to Benjamin.
“Put it on.. the chain with your dad's ring”
He does as told.
“Now I need you to promise me to cherish and pass down those items with the story behind them.. for future generations”
You take a small wheezy breath, grabbing a hold of the sunglasses, clutching them tight.
Your eyes start to blur.
“I love you all”
“We love you too, mom”
“Rest now”
“Tell dad we said hi”
Your eyes flutter shut as your chest stills. You have a faint smile on your lips.
Your children kept all their promises to you just like they said they would.
They buried you next to Jake.
They cherished and passed down the items you gave them.
They made sure every single generation after them knew how the story of Seresin's went.
Your eyes open, seeing everything so brightly. You look around, realizing you are at the beach behind the Hard Deck. There at the beach, as you walk closer you see Pete and Tom sitting in foldable chairs, and multiple people playing volleyball in the sand.
As you near the squadron, Tom turns his head, smiles and nudges Pete. He also turns and smiles at you, nodding towards the water line where the group of pilots are playing.
You nod at them and smile, going past them.
You stop right by the edge of the makeshift volleyball field.
One by one they stop playing, until the one person you have waited so long to see again, turns around and sees you. He drops the ball. Then you and he both move towards each other as if gravity is pulling you together. In a way it always has been and always will be doing so.
Soon you are standing face to face, looking each other straight in the eyes.
He cups your cheek, and you place your hand on top of his.
Then his lips crash against your in a fierce kiss. You pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours, both breathing heavily.
His sunglasses resting on top of your head.
“Hey”
“Hi, sweetheart”
You might have some catching up to do with all of them, but luckily you've got all the eternity for it.
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Part 2
The letter
Pictures
Benjamin is 17 years old, Cade 14 years old and Eden is 6 years old when they lost their dad.
A/N: I finished writing this between 4 and 5 in the morning, so pardon me if there's any mistakes. I have to admit writing this got me crying.
If anything is unclear, just ask and I'll try my best to explain.
Had to repost cuz Tumblr was being irritating and didn't let me edit the post, only because my original post had disappeared somewhere.
Sorry for the hassle!
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