#hannix fanfiction
Text
The Wedding Bet Date
Pairings - Hangman and Phoenix (Enemies to Lovers)
Premise - When "Phoenix" Trace made a stupid bet, she did not expect Jake "Hangman" Sersin to be thrown at her face out of nowhere. Now they are stuck together, forced to confront a past they are trying to forget.
Warnings: Major Spoilers for Top Gun (1986) and Top Gun: Maverick (2022), suggestive language, mentions of sex.
Word Count: 7.6 K
A/N - I knew it! When I saw Top Gun Maverick, I just knew that something has happened between the two and that they either liked each other or slept together at least once. The way Hangman looked at Phoenix like he was daring her to say something >>>> 😭😭😭
I'm going full ballistic on this one babe, imma write this with my whole ass heart, Haenix FOREVER 😭❤
This is my first ever Top Gun fanfic, so I hope y'all like it.
This was requested Anonymously, whoever you are, thank you <3
Thank you @bradshaw-fanclub @bradshawsbaby @bradshawbaby @roostersmustache for being fabulous and producing content that can only be described as absolute perfection. This one is dedicated to you. Thank you for inspiring me <3
My Main Masterlist || Send your requests here!
Two months after the events of Top Gun: Maverick
Saturday
"All I'm saying is that you could have just called him back. He did give you his number." Bob said to Phoenix as he sipped his chilled beer.
It was a lovely Saturday evening at Robert's house with just the two of them. They were sitting on his back porch, lounging on the beach chairs overlooking the ocean and sipping beer. His girlfriend, Maria, was visiting him and had asked her to stay for dinner. And well, how could she say no to homemade enchiladas when she could smell how delicious they were?
After the uranium mission, Bob and Natasha have grown quite close. The mission made them develop a sibling-like relationship, they trusted each other with their lives. Some part of Bob will always be grateful to Natasha for saving his life. A part of Natasha wanted to protect him at all costs even though she knew he was one of the most capable ROIs out there.
"He wasn't my type." She said, placing her empty beer bottle on the floor. "Mav and Penny's wedding is in four days, you have to bring a plus one. He was plus-one material." Bob said, after Natasha didn't call back a poor sod, she had a one-night stand with. "Bob, if I had called him back and asked him to be my plus one to a wedding, he would have gotten the wrong jest." She lets out a long sigh, thinking about her one-night stand last night. She sneaked out of his place at the crack of dawn and hasn't spoken since.
"You can't do it alone, Nat. Everyone has a date. You need to have someone to go with." He speaks. "Fine! I'll go to The Hard Deck and the first guy to walk in from the door will be my date to Mav's wedding. Happy?" She gives him a fake smile baring all her teeth.
He laughed, adjusted his specs, and says, "Sounds good to me. I would love to see what frat boy or middle-aged drunkard you end up with."
"Shut up!" She pushes his shoulder.
—/—/—
Maverick and Rooster were helping behind the bar when Nat, Bob, and Maria walked in. Penny announced she would be closing the place for a week because of her honeymoon. Since then, everyone has been flooding the place.
"Remember the bet?" Bob asks her slyly.
"Yeah, yeah whatever." She mocks him.
"Look who it is!" Bradley yelled from the bar. Nat runs up to him and hugs him from the other side of the bar. "Hey, Penny!" She waves at the bride-to-be excitedly, as Bradley slides her a bottle of beer. "Hello there, Phoenix." Pete steps up behind Bradley wearing a pink apron, a towel on his shoulder, and holding a lot of beer mugs.
"Looks like domestic life suits you a lot sir." She smiles at his attire.
"Penny made me wear this," he says with a straight face.
"Isn't he the cutest?" Penny comes up behind him and gives him a kiss on the cheek. Pete turns red and ducks his head in shyness.
"Okay kids, let's keep the environment PG. Please?" Bradley shouts up and they all share a laugh.
Nat sipped her beer, thinking of how she could not have been happier for her friends. Having realized they were meant to be since Pete sneaked her on a flight back in '86, Pete and Penny were settling down without wasting any more time. Bradley finally got the family he had always wanted.
She could dream of this, right? A small, happy family, someone she could be in love with forever.
But then Bob nudges her and she is thrown back to reality. He points at the door where she could see a silhouette of a man about to enter the bar. She straightens, realizing how badly this could go south.
The door opens, and she sees a brown boot stomping on the hardwood floor. When her eyes travel up to see who the mystery man she will have to go to the wedding with is, she chokes on her drink.
—/—/—
Jake "Hangman" Sersin was not a man of commitment. As he enters The Hard Deck, he is already skimming through the crowd, searching for a girl to take home. As his eyes travel to the bar, he looks at Bradley, Pete, and Penny standing in a circle, laughing at something as they serve the drinks. He smiles looking at the lot, happy for his friends to find a place.
And then his eyes shift to Nat and Bob sitting on the bar, looking at him like deer caught in headlights. He gives them a puzzled look, walking up to them trying to figure out why they looked so horrified.
"Hey, Bob, and Phoenix. Hope you are doing well?" He couldn't help but ask that as a question.
"Yeah... I'm fine. I'll leave." Saying so he abruptly gets up from his seat, gives Natasha a pitied look, and walks away grabbing the arm of a beautiful woman sitting next to him.
"What's up with Bob? He didn't even introduce me to his girl," he asks Nat.
"Maybe he doesn't want you near her, Hangman," she says, looking him dead in the eyes like she wanted to beat him up.
"Okay, what's going on? I thought we were done roasting the shit out of each other. Why are you looking at me like that?" He points to Natasha's eyes.
"She made a stupid bet," Bradley leans over the bar, slipping on his aviators, looking at them with a mischievous grin on his face, "She said she would show up to Pete and Penny's wedding with the first guy who walks into the bar after her, and that's," he dramatically waves his hands to Jake, "you."
Natasha saw the exact moment Jake's face turned from one of absolute confusion to one of absolute amusement. He looks at her and laughs out loud, throwing his head back.
"Oh, Trace!" he chimes, stepping closer to her, "It will be my utmost honor to be your date to the wedding." He puts his hand on his heart, smirking at her.
"Whatever" she chugs down her beer and makes her way out of the bar toward the beach.
"This is going to be so fun to watch," Bradley says under his breath in a sing-song voice. Jake slides a 10 to Bradley for his beer, takes it, and runs after her.
—/—/—
Natasha looks behind her to see Jake coming toward her with a bottle of beer in his hands. "Phoenix." He nods towards her, smirking as he takes a sip from the bottle.
Natasha’s gaze lingers on his neck, and his jawline, involuntarily her mind wavering off to a very specific memory.
She is kissing him, sucking on the skin of his neck as Jake’s hands travel towards her thighs. In no time, he had picked her up and put her on the table, his hands reaching towards where she needed him the most.
Jake looks at her, realizing what she was thinking about. Before he could say something, she begins, "Look, I get that you got some girl ready for the wedding. If you don't want to do this, I'm okay with that."
Jake stills.
What did she think of him? Every girl he had interacted with since he came to Miramar was a one-time thing. They flirt with him, he shows them a good time. Then they go away ready to tell their friends about that one time they hooked up with a fighter pilot. That's all he ever was. Sometimes he thought he was hitting it off with someone who genuinely liked them. However, he would give them his phone number and they would swear they would call him and he would wait, but it was the same radio silence.
He didn't have anyone to take to the wedding, and Nat's offer wasn't that terrible. It would be a one-time thing.
Just like last time.
"Phoenix, how could I possibly miss out on this golden opportunity of going out with you? I'm thrilled." Natasha rolls her eyes.
"So, you're in?"
"A 100 percent." He smiles, offering her his handshake. She shakes his hand, saying, "if you mess up, I'll end you."
"I don't doubt otherwise" he smiles looking at her.
Sunday
It was a Sunday, and Nat had her entire day planned. Reporting to base every morning at 7 am as part of the Navy left no time for her. She planned on taking a long bath today, applying a mask, and watching a reality show to relax.
What she did not expect, was Jake honking in front of her Navy-issued house while she was in a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head. She didn’t have time to take it off as he was already ringing her doorbell.
So, she opened the door to see him dressed in jeans and a casual t-shirt, taking off her aviators thinking about a smart comeback for Nat.
“Don’t say something you’re about to regret Sersin.” She says. He defensively raises both his hands in front of him and replies, “I was just coming over to ask you out for shopping for the wedding.”
"What shopping?”
“I need a suit. And I guess you need a dress?”
“I have a dress.”
“No, you don’t.” he smiles, knowing Natasha won’t show up to the wedding wearing an old dress.
“Fine, I’ll buy one afterward, happy shopping.” She was about to slam the door when he held out his hand, preventing the door from closing.
“C’mon Trace, we are going together to the wedding and I need a proper suit for that, and I can help you find a dress. I grew up with two elder sisters. I know enough about women’s fashion to…”
“You need someone to help you find a suit, don’t you?” Nat chimes in. Jake closes his eyes and exhales, nodding in defeat. “Yes.” He looks at her to see her smiling, “Wait in the car, give me five minutes," she runs inside as he steps down the porch stairs, smiling to himself thinking about her smile.
---/---/---
“Come on princess, this is getting out of control!" Nat sat in the waiting area shouting towards Jake’s booth, where he was trying on his fourth suit.
Because there weren't enough days left to tailor a suit to fit Jake, for the first time in his life he was getting a readymade suit. Which is why he can’t decide which one to choose. If the black suit’s trousers fitted him like a glove, the blazer was short. He found that the vest of the white suit was too tight when the jacket of the suit was just right.
“Okay! I swear this is the last one.” He says and steps out of the trial room, too frustrated to even look at his reflection. He steps out looking at Natasha, who was sitting in front of him scrolling through her phone.
“How is it?" he asks, and she looks at him.
---/---/---
Natasha knew as irritating as he could be, Jake was a handsome man. It was confirmed to her by the light gray three-piece suit he was wearing as he stepped out of the trial room. She tried. She tried not to give him a reaction but her jaw hung open.
The suit was flawless, and it looked perfect on him.
“Damn Trace, I must be looking hot if I made your jaw drop.” He cocks his eyebrows at her. Nat tried to say something but she was rendered speechless. Finally, she managed a small, “Yeah, you look good.” And got up abruptly.
Jake’s eyebrows rose up at this, he asks, “where are you headed?”
“I… have to buy a dress. And you’re not allowed to see me in it.” “Why?”
Natasha smirks, looking him directly in the eyes, “Well, I want to see your jaw drop." And leaves.
Jake stands there until a voice from his right shakes him out of his trance. “Your wife is a feisty one. Don’t lose her.” He looks to his right and sees an old couple smiling at him knowingly. He politely smiles at them and walks back into the changing room to get out of the suit.
He’s buying it.
---/---/---
“That looks unhealthy.” Nat looks at him as he bathes his fries in ketchup. She takes a fry and eats it with a fork. They had stopped at a diner to grab lunch after shopping for the whole day.
“I’ll do 20 more push-ups to burn it out.” He says, his mouth taking a big bite of his hamburger.
“Good for you.” She says, laughing at the bit of sauce on the corner of his mouth.
“What?”
“You… you got some sauce on your face.”
“What?” he rubs off his face at a completely different spot.
“Here, wait.” Nat takes a napkin and wipes off the sauce on his face.
Jake’s heart raced as a memory of her flashed in front of his eyes.
She softly caressed his face, a moan slipping past her lips, “Jake.” Not Sersin, not Hangman, Jake. He swore as he smashed his lips on hers. He wanted her, he wanted everything she had to give. Her soft hands responded by grabbing the back of his neck and bringing him closer.
“Sersin? Are you okay?” His eyes turned back to her as she looked at him smiling brighter than the sunlight.
“Nothing, I just… I recalled something.” “What?”
“Your dress. I still haven’t seen it.” He says, desperate to divert his attention from her distractingly beautiful hands. Someone takes their manicure seriously.
“I’ll show it to you at the wedding.”
“What if we don’t match? I’m wearing charcoal, what if you show up in an outrageous green or something?"
“Sersin! I would never for my life wear green to a wedding.”
“So it’s not green.” He smiles.
Natasha rolls her eyes, “It’s lilac.”
“Lilac. I can do with that.” He mostly nods to himself and digs back into his hamburger, while Natasha eats her fries with a fork.
Tuesday
“Where. Are. You?” Nat asked with gritted teeth.
It was the Bachelor and Bachelorette of Mav and Penny. While the boys were hanging out at a bar downtown, Penny’s party was at her house. Jake was supposed to be her ride to Penny’s before heading to Mav’s party. And he was 20 minutes late.
“I’m sorry I can’t make it Phoenix.” A cracked voice came through her phone.
“Why? What happened?" she asked.
“I got food poisoning.” He speaks.
"Yeah, I'm willing to believe that Sersin. The next time you want to ditch me, make a better excuse.” “Trace I…”
She ends the call.
Natasha arrives at Penny's after taking an Uber 10 minutes later. When she entered the house, the party was already in full swing. Penny’s friends were there, and so were some of the female aviators from the base.
She finds Callie, known by her callsign 'Halo', in the lot, standing next to Penny. She was wearing a short white dress with a plastic crown and a bride-to-be sash. She looked so happy and cheery that it made her heart melt. She quickly walks to them and hugs Penny. “Penny, you look amazing!”
“Thank you so much, Nat, you too look gorgeous!" she says after glancing at the sundress Nat was wearing.
“I am so sorry for being late, Hangman bailed on me. He was supposed to be my ride here.”
“Oh, don't be silly! It's fine ” She gives her another hug and gets ushered by some of her friends. Not a second later, Halo grabs her hand and takes her to a corner. “Did you just say you were coming with Jake? Like, Jake Sersin?”
“Yes, it’s a long story.” she gives her an awkward smile.
“Are you guys dating?” she asks with wide eyes.
“No, No! I made this stupid bet and now I’m stuck with him,” she says, taking a glass of champagne and ready to get drunk.
Callie takes the glass away from her. "No, you are not getting drunk tonight.” Natasha looks at her accusingly, “why may I ask?”
"The party’s about to get wild! We need someone sober to keep us in check. And that’s you.”
“What about Amelia?”
“She’s a child.”
“So why is she holding a champagne glass?”
Both women whipped their heads towards Penny’s rebellious 15-year-old daughter, locking eyes with her.
She bolted, with the glass. And they bolted after her.
—/—/—
After As soon as Natasha and Callie had Amelia under control (two grown women tackling her in the hallway before she swallows the champagne), they began helping around the party so that Penny wouldn't have to do anything. It was a nice evening.
Penny laughed and drank as she shared stories. Nat met some of Penny’s friends who were naval aviators in the 80s and 90s. They collectively geeked over the advancements and technological differences between their planes and eras. In addition, she learned a lot about fighter planes that you don’t find in the books, things that can only be known from experience.
When it was time to leave, Nat and Amelia, the only two sober people, called Uber for guests heading to their homes. They set up the living room and guest room for people staying at their place. As she waved goodbye to the last of the guests, a familiar blue Hondo rolls up to the driveway. Bradley looks out of the window to greet Nat, “How was the bachelorette?”
“It was flawless. What are you doing here?”
“Dropping these idiots to their homes, I’m the only sober person left.” He looks behind him, and Nat follows and is met by the image of Fanboy, Bob and Payback cuddled together in the backseat.
“heyyy Natasha!” a slurred voice comes from behind her to see Callie stumbling down the porch steps. Nat helps her into the backseat after slapping Mickey’s arm to scoot over. He grumbles something in Spanish that even she couldn’t make out but makes space for Callie to sit in the back seat.
“what’s up with Javy?” she asks as she sees the six-foot-something pilot sitting in the front seat frowning at the road ahead.
“Oh, he’s in a foul mood. His bestie didn’t show up.” “Wait, Jake wasn’t at the party?” she asks, confused.
“Yeah, I called him and he said he had the stomach flu. He canceled last minute; I didn’t have any time to check up on him. I’ll drop by his house tomorrow… Wait, Nat where are you going?” he asks as she starts to walk towards the house.
“Bradley, I’ll see you tomorrow. I… I recalled something I had to talk about with Penny.” She climbs the porch steps, quickly entering the house to see everyone settled for the night. She finds Amelia talking to a girl who looked like she was in her twenties. She bids them a quick goodbye and runs to her car, ready to go to Jake’s.
He was telling the truth.
Oh my god, how could she not realize this?
He missed Mav’s party. Jake Sersin, the biggest party animal of the Dagger Squad, would never miss a bachelor party.
This was serious.
---/---/---
It was never this disastrous. He closes the bathroom, after cleaning the basin for the fourth time that day because his dumbass decided to throw up in it, instead of the toilet.
He had food poisoning before, but it wasn't this severe. His whole body was aching, and his stomach was hurting. He should have listened to Natasha when she said that the hamburger was a terrible choice to eat at 3 in the evening. He also drank three whole bottles of beer that night just to spite Coyote.
“Sersin?” He stops on his way to the bed. Did he actually hear it, or was he dreaming? She can’t really be here.
"Sersin, are you there?” Nope, that was her voice. Funny how he could recognize her voice anywhere, even high on painkillers at the moment.
“Coming.” He manages to get out and walks toward the living room. As he enters, he sees Natasha standing in the middle of the room, frantically looking around. She was wearing a cream floral dress that reached just a bit below her knees, and her hair, oh, her hair! They were loose, the top half bound in a loose bun at the top.
He tries not to remember the last time she was at his house, in a somewhat similar outfit. “Hey.” He says, remembering that she cut his call before he could explain to her that this was not a prank and that he was actually sick.
Nat looks at him, his posture, how he was leaning against the wall trying to seem cool. The look on his face and dark circles revealed how tired he was. In a loose shirt and sweatpants, he looked like he would faint.
She felt terrible for cutting off the call, now that he could see he was telling the truth. “How are you?” "fine. Just, feeling really tired.”
She steps closer to him, “Jake, I thought you were pranking but then Bradley told me you were not at Mav’s party…”
“Hey, it’s alright, you didn’t know. I don’t blame you Trace." Seeing how her eyebrows scrunched together, her face itched with worry, he said, "It's fine."
“Did you eat?” she asks, finding his eyes as he avoided them.
“Yes.”
“Sersin.”
She calls out accusingly. “What? I did. I had a banana before taking my medicine-"
“A banana?”
“-And two apples. The doctor told me not to eat anything heavy, so I had some fruits. I kind of threw up earlier-“
“You’re vomiting!”
“-would you just listen!”
“Listen to what? How horrible it is to have an empty stomach when you have food poisoning! Please tell me you drank at least 4 liters of water.”
“…”
“Jake! Oh god.” She pushes her hair back, "Take a seat, I’ll make you something.” Saying so she heads to the kitchen.
He tries to follow her, saying, “Trace it’s 11 pm. Just go home, I'll be fine!" but stops when she looks at him two seconds from popping out and engaging in a diss match with him.
“I’ll be in the bedroom.” He says and leaves, not waiting for Natasha Trace to unleash her full wrath on him.
Some 20 minutes later Nat enters his room holding a bowl and a bottle of water. He sits up straight at the end of his bed. The bowl was filled with bananas cut into small pieces and mixed with yogurt. “My mom would make that when I would get sick. It tastes better than it looks I swear.” She sits next to him as she handed him the bowl. He takes it wordlessly, staring at it as she takes a seat next to him.
When he took a bite with a spoon, he didn't know if it was hunger, but it tasted absolutely incredible. She added a bit of sugar so that it doesn’t taste bland.
"Thank you," He smiles as he scoops up a big bite ready to dive in. He looks at her, their close proximity, her body so close to him. She looked so cute sitting next to him, her face angelic in the low lamp light of his bedroom.
“It’s getting late. Can you stay here tonight?” he slips up. Realizing what he just said, his heart races. “I guess.” She smiles and agrees. She gets up from the bed, heading towards his closet. "Anything in here I could change into?” she asks looking back at him. “Uh, there are some sweatshirts you can wear”
She pulls out an old sweatshirt and some shorts and heads to the bathroom. She comes back, wearing his sweatshirt and shorts, that hung off of her. Jake thought she looked beautiful in it. If this was any other situation, he would have made a comment or two about her having a crush on him to come to his house at night. But he just couldn’t.
“I’ll sleep on the couch.” She says, searching for his eyes that were already looking at her. “Okay,” he responds, unable to find words to say otherwise. Natasha leaves, and Jake lies on the bed, trying to catch some sleep when the fact hits him like a brick.
She called him Jake.
Wednesday
The next morning, he wakes up to the blaring sound of his alarm. He shuts it off and heads out to the bathroom. He freshens up and gets to the kitchen, gets a bowl, and is about to empty some cereal in it when his eyes fall on Natasha.
She was sleeping peacefully on the couch, strands of hair escaping from her loose bun and hanging over her face. She looked ethereal in the morning light.
Jake kept staring at her and was shaken out of it when she stirred and opened her eyes. She slowly gets up and checks the time on her phone, her hair falling over her shoulder like a curtain. She had let it grow out after the Uranium mission. Her gaze then falls on Jake, standing at the kitchen counter looking at her with what she could only decipher as awestruck.
“You’re up,” she replies, smiling at the fact that he looked much better than last night. His bed hair was still there which made him look adorable. While Jake tried to find the right words to say, his heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to burst out at any moment as he tried to find the right words to say.
“Yeah, I… I slept well. What about you?”
“It was fine. I have to get going, have to report at base soon.” The statement made him look at the watch on his counter. It was 6:20. In order to wrap up all work before everyone went on leave the next day, they had to report at 7 a.m.
“Stay for coffee?” Jake says as Natasha gets up to fold the sheets. “Okay.” she smiles brightly at him. Someone is a morning person, thought Jake.
“Just make it black with-”
“-two sugars and a teaspoon of cream. I know.”
Natasha stared at him for a moment. She recalled her early days at Top Gun when every day she would run into Jake at the coffee shop on her way to the base. And he would mock her under his breath from behind as she ordered her coffee. That was two years ago.
“You actually remember that?” she asked, shocked. “Of course, I do,” he smirks as he hands her a mug filled to the brim with coffee, as he sat down on the couch. He pats the seat next to him and she flops on the couch.
“Thank you for this Sersin.”
“It’s alright… Trace.” He says her last name with hesitation, almost saying ‘Natasha’.
“Last night,” he begins, leaning back on the couch, “I’m really sorry for bailing out on you like that. I was intending to call you sooner, but my head was inside the toilet for the better part of the day-”
“Jake, it’s fine. I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t believe you and I was really rude. I thought this was some kind of prank you were pulling on me”
“Why would I prank you about me being sick?” a laugh escapes his lips.
“I don’t know, maybe because you’re a butthead.” she laughed, and not the subtle laugh she always did. She threw her head back, showing her teeth and scrunching her nose and Jake’s heart did a somersault.
“Butthead, huh, now that’s a word I haven’t heard since middle school.” he lightly pushed her shoulder. “Hey!” she pushed him back, putting away her coffee mug to spar with him with both her hands.
But Jake was quick.
He caught her wrists before she could punch him and pulled her in. Natasha yelped as her chest hit him, their faces so close to each other. Jake forgot to breathe. And so did Natasha. He leaned forward, testing waters just like the last time, and no matter how desperately Natasha tried, she too leaned forward.
His lips were soft as feathers. Unlike when Natasha's brain was fogged with lust, she was clear as a day this time. Their lips worked in sync as Jake held her from the back of her neck. Natasha slipped her hand under his shirt, running her fingers across his chest. They were lost in each other, exploring their bodies as it was their first time, so much so that they didn’t hear the front door open.
They didn’t hear the footsteps as they approached the living room, nor the sudden silence in the atmosphere.
They broke out of trance only when they heard Bob.
“What the fuck?”
Phoenix pushed Jake away and turned around to see Rooster and Bob standing in the middle room, mouths hung open. As Jake sensed the tension in the air, he wasn't sure whether to breathe or not. “How did this…” Bob began to question the situation but Natasha was looking at Bradley looking at her clothing, Jake’s sweatshirt, that he has seen him in enough times to recognize anywhere. He was picturing them in another situation. Anyone with a functioning brain would make the same assumption as Bradley.
“I didn’t know that you two…” Bob’s voice was drowned out as Natasha stood up and looked at the three men, currently undergoing a lot of revelations at the moment. “I’ll see you all at the base, I have to go” giving Jake a look he would later decipher was a look mixed with embarrassment and longing, Natasha practically ran out the door towards her car.
—/—/—
“Bob, stop doing that,” Natasha whispers at him.
Since arriving on base, Bradley and Bob had teamed up on standing away from Natasha and Jake and staring at them ominously. “How did this happen? I just want to know because I’m trying really difficult to gaslight myself into believing it was a fever dream.” Bradley joins in, coming behind Bob.
“It's… ugh,” she grabs his arm and drags him to the couch in the common room and Bradley follows. They sit down and pick up a book lying on the table, just in case it looked like they were planning a coup.
“You remember Jason?” she begins.
“That two-faced son of a bitch who dumped you over text after cheating on you with his co-worker? Yes, I remember him.” venom dripped from Bradley’s voice as he recalled how heartbroken Natasha was after the incident.
Many did not know about Jason. Bradley did because at the time of her breakup he was the one to bring her ice cream and watch the 90s movies just to curse the ridiculous plot. Bob did because she told him after watching how he and Maria were meant to be, telling him about her biggest heartbreak.
“So, two years ago, the night he texted me, I drove to The Hard Deck to drown myself in alcohol. Penny was there to look after me." she sighs, recalling the night. “It was late, there were not a lot of people in there. Jake was there.” Bob and Bradley looked at each other in surprise. “He was coming over to just chat I guess, but I did a shit job of hiding my tears. One thing led to another and... we slept together.”
The three stayed silent for a while, and then Bob spoke up, “He manipulated you into sleeping with him while you were drunk!”
“No, No! Bob, I had like two beers. I wasn't even drunk. Everything that happened, it was consensual.” She sat up looking at both her best friends.
“Okay, okay we get it. But today at his place…”
“I don’t know, I just looked at him and… just…” she struggled to find the right words, an explanation as to why she kissed him.
There was none.
“You like him, Nat?” Bradley asked softly, holding her arm. “I don't know.” she took her head in her hands and exhaled.
—/—/—
It was a long day. He tried on multiple occasions to talk to Natasha, but she kept ignoring him. Bradley and Bob didn’t make it any easier, giving him a blank stare the entire day. It was a miracle the entire base didn’t know about this till now.
He sits in his car, heading home to wallow in his grief alone. The wedding was tomorrow, and he had no idea if Nat would still attend with him, after everything that had happened. He hears a knock on the window of his seat, finding Javy there. The man squinted at the window, knocking again for him to slide down the glass.
“Care to give me a ride, Jake? I hitched a ride with Payback, but he bailed on me." He laughed softly.
"Get in." He opens the door so he can climb into the passenger seat. Their houses were a block apart, so on the way, they caught up on everything. In between his flu and the arrangement with Nat, he had no time to talk to his best friend from the academy. He told them about the bachelor party and how Fanboy and Payback got too drunk and sang three Justin Bieber songs on karaoke until Pete himself begged them to stop. They laughed with tears coming out of their eyes as he showed him the video he took at the party.
As Jake pulled up to the driveway of Javy’s house, he turned to look at him. Javy smiled at him and asked, "You like her, Jake?"
Jake’s smile dropped as he looked at Javy. How did he… “Oh come on man! You really thought I wouldn't know? I see the way you look at her. Like she hung the moon and stars for you.”
Jake turned red, and he couldn’t help but smile as his friend caught him red-handed.
"Just tell her before it's too late, Jake. You never know if you will get a second chance or not." With that, he gets out of his car and walks inside his house.
Jake sits in the dark for a while, sifting through the words that just fell out of Javy’s mouth.
He recalls the morning after when he smiled before opening his eyes, expecting Nat to be sleeping next to him, thinking about asking her out for coffee, or breakfast. And how devastated he was to find her absent, just a note left at his bedside written by her.
Thank you.
-N
On reaching the base, he found out she had taken a leave. When Nat returned, she had returned to how she had been, and their relationship had reverted to calling names and making fun of each other. He never asked her or told her about how he felt. He regretted that for God knows how long, and some part of him still does.
This was his second chance. And he has to take it.
Thursday
The Blue, a wedding venue in Miramar, was on a hillside just next to the ocean. It was a beautiful sunny day, the snowy clouds in the bright blue sky scattered like they would in a painting. The tent was set up for the reception, providing space for all 35 guests. The flower arch over the stage was decorated with beautiful blue and white daisies. The stage was cleaned and swept and set up with a mic for the wedding officiator. The aisle was white, with miniature plane charms hanging from each chair as the guests began to settle in them, all in awe of the atmosphere around them. Waiting for the bride and groom to arrive
The Blue was where Nick “Goose” Bradshaw tied the knot with Carole, and where Tom “Iceman” Krazansky said his vows with Sarah.
And today, it was hosting the wedding of the man who was closest to both of them. Fate was cruel to Pete for they were not here today. Nick being his best man would try to calm him by saying stuff like “It’s just five minutes Mav, and then you’ll be sipping margaritas with Penny in Hawaii” and Tom would just rile him up “Ten bucks you will cry like a baby watching her coming down the aisle” just to see what happens.
But as Pete looked in the mirror of his hotel room, wearing his black suit with a sad smile on his face, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
He looked in the mirror at the man whose hand was on his shoulder. God, he looked so much like him. Bradley squeezed his shoulder. “They know Mav, and they are here. Both of them are.” Pete turned to give him a tight hug. It was impossible not to shed the tear he had been holding in since the dawn of the day.
—/—/—
Jake smiled at the duo, recalling how mere months ago Bradley was ready to throw hands with Pete. Now he is the one who would hand him the ring that was meant for Penny.
“Alright boys,” Pete says, wiping a tear and slapping a hand on Bradley’s shoulder, “Let’s do this.” the groomsmen got ready to walk out of the room and toward the stage.
The guests turned as the boys walked up the aisle, first Pete, and then Jake, Javy, Mickey, Bob, and Reuben behind him. They smiled and waved at people around them, some familiar faces from the base and some new. Jake looked to the officiator on the stage to discover it was none other than Hondo, their trusted 'push-up instructor' (a nickname that stuck after the dagger squad's first punishment).
The music played as everyone stood up for the bride to walk in. But it soon transitioned into “Footloose” by Kenny Loggins. In came Bradley in a crisp black suit and Amelia in a light blue frock wearing aviators, throwing flowers down the aisle while doing a whole dance routine. Everyone cheered and danced, and the boys couldn’t help but join them in the end.
Finally, Bradley and Amelia did a fist bump and took their places as the Best Man and Maid of Honor. The music changed, and Penny walked in.
He heard Pete’s breath hitch as soon as he saw Penny. She looked like an angel in the long white dress. Her dark hair was styled in a way that it was on a side. She held a bouquet of white and blue flowers, and unlike recent fashion, she wore a short translucent veil, covering her face. His gaze lingered from her to Pete, and then back again. He couldn't help wondering how two people could love each other so much, as their eyes were filled with nothing but love.
And then he saw a blur of lilac fabric right behind Penny.
Lilac.
Natasha came in view, her hair in a braided crown, holding a bouquet, and wearing that damn lilac dress. He felt warm in his chest, and the warmth slowly spread to his whole body as she neared. She was smiling at Pete, looking at how he was looking at Penny, and when her gaze turned to him, she smirked.
Jake forgot to breathe. As he took a long inhale, he realized his mouth was hanging open. His eyes found Natasha, now standing behind Penny on the stage, and she laughed at him.
Told you she mouthed.
And Jake couldn’t help but laugh himself. He now knew what Penny and Pete were feeling for each other. Because he felt the same way.
—/—/—
The opening notes of the slow song filled the air as the sun set down and the sky turned a beautiful shade of orange. Natasha took a long gulp of champagne, looking at Pete and Penny having their first dance as husband and wife.
She could describe the wedding as magical. It was magical.
Penny’s smile didn’t falter even a bit the whole day, and Pete was a blushing mess. She looked as Pete whispered something in her ear, and Penny’s jaw dropped. She hid her face in the crook of his neck as he laughed.
She has seen all her life the kind of love they shared. Her parents singing their favourite song as she sat in the backseat, her Cheerleader classmates kissing their Quarterback boyfriends after winning the game, the old couple walking down her college dorm every day holding hands, the barista from the coffee shop almost spilling the drink over herself as soon as the girl across the street came in for her order.
And now Penny and Pete.
They were true, and the cutest couple she ever came across.
She looked at the Dagger squad sitting around her, everyone lost in chatting and having a good time. Somehow Mickey and Javy had got hold of two sticks and were having a swordfight, and Callie and Neil (callsign - Omaha) were recording the whole thing on her phone, Reuben was holding on to his chair for dear life so he doesn’t fall down from laughing too hard and Maria was sitting on Bob’s lap as he rubbed circles on her back, looking at her when she was busy watching the newlyweds.
And then she found Jake, sitting next to Bradley. His hair was intact, and his blazer was open. He looked straight out of a movie. He had a soft smile etched on his face, as he looked at her.
"Bradshaw!" Amelia calls out, "I think we asked them to keep this PG.” Natasha looked behind her to see Amelia looking at Bradley and pointing toward the couple. Pete was kissing Penny and she was caressing his neck.
“Nah, I think we should let them off tonight. It’s their wedding after all,” he replied, raising his eyebrows at the girl in front of him.
She sits next to him, “so what does that make us, now that Pete and my mom are married?” Natasha now turned to the duo, looking at how the little girl was looking at Bradley with total confidence, and Bradley staring back with the same intensity. “Your adopted step-brother?” he furrows his brows as he says that.
The dagger squad sitting around him burst into laughter that instant. Amelia rolls her eyes as Bradley rubs his face with embarrassment. “I always wanted a dumbass brother. Let’s dance,” and she drags Bradley to the dance floor. Natasha watches as Bradley and Amelia dance together, and other couples join the dance floor.
“Care to dance?” Natasha looks to her side to see Jake standing by her, holding out his hand. She looks at his hand and then at his face, the smile on it. It wasn’t one of the cocky grins he did that made her blood boil, this was his genuine smile, his true self.
She takes his hand, just like he did two years ago at The Hard Deck when he took her off to somewhere she could forget the ache in her heart.
He escorted her to the dance floor, sneaking an arm around her waist and the other holding her hand. All while his gaze never wavered from hers. Natasha placed her hand on his shoulder and slowly started to sway to the music.
“How are you?” she asks him. “Great. Now that you are here," he smiles.
She laughed at the comment, scrunching up her nose. "Was that... Was that cheezy?” he asks her, heat rising to his face.
“A bit,” she says, returning her gaze to him. She wanted to remember this, him. The twinkle in his eyes, the loose tie around his neck, the texture of his grey blazer, and the small wrinkles around his eyes were adorable when he smiled for real.
Jake’s heart was beating fast, as he stared at the loose strands of Natasha's hair escaping her crown, how her dress felt under his hands, the dip of her waist, and her eyes. Oh, her eyes. He could swear that no one has ever looked at him the way she was right now.
“I wanted to say something.” Jake starts.
“Me too.”
“I am an idiot-”
“I know”
“-to not tell you this sooner. I wanted to for a long time.” He stops dancing and just looks at her.
“I-” he begins, he had so much to say.
Whenever she laughed or gave him the side eye when he annoyed her, her voice on his radio made him smile. It was her who made him feel like this, like...
Like he loved her.
But before the words passed his lips, he heard her voice, “I really like you, Jake.” And he swore he was done for right then and there.
“I really like you too, Natasha," he said, feeling giddy. Saying her name and hearing his name from her.
They smiled at each other, as Natasha gripped his hand tighter. Jake pulled her closer, their bodies flush together. They leaned toward each other in tandem, lips ghosting just inches apart as they looked each other in the eyes, and then, they kissed.
—/—/—
“I knew that was gonna happen!” Callie gasped catching Niel’s attention. They kept staring at Natasha and Jake kissing on the dance floor.
Mickey gave Reuben a confused glance and Javy nodded as he sipped his drink. Bob and Bradley looked at each other on the dance floor, smiling at the scene.
All in all, it was a happy ending for everyone.
Sequel! (Mickey Garcia x fem!Reader) || Call Out My Name
A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Any and all requests, headcanons, and drabble requests about this AU is mostly welcome. Love y'all, Take Care!
Requests are open! Feel free to request anything.
Tag List:
@tuiccim @parkjammys @akinrawsx @asteph22 @iamthebeth @thefandomqueenuno @onlyhereforthefics @yikesdameron @savedfanfics1992 @amigaytho @hoennsficrecs @samwilson-mylove @xbuchananbarnes-deactivated @jenniweaslee @anna-phora @fluffyprettykitty @ladiesluver
#top gun#top gun: maverick#top gun maverick#jake seresin fanfic#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#hannix#hannix fanfiction#top gun fanfic#top gun fic#top gun au#natasha phoenix trace#jake x natasha#natasha trace#phoenix#hangman x phoenix#bradley rooster bradshaw#mickey garcia#neil omaha vikander#callie halo shen#javy coyote machado#reuben payback fitch#bob top gun#pete maverick mitchell#penny benjamin#tom cruise#glen powell#monica barbaro#jennifer connelly
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Here me out.
Jake "Hangman" Seresin (Glen Powell of course) and a Brandon Sklenar OC that is Jake's little or older brother and they want after Natasha and Jake can't stand his brother being close with Phoenix and it stirs a lot of stuff amongst the three they didn't know would he stirred...
Whatcha think?
My own little Hannix plot idea, I may try it but anyone else is welcome to long as they give credit where it's due.
#glen powell#brandon sklenar#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#hangman#seresin#jakes brother oc#hannix fanfiction#hannix plot idea#hangman x phoenix#jake seresin x natasha trace#seresin x trace#hangman x phoenix plot idea#natasha phoenix trace#natasha trace#phoenix#trace#imdonnalynn#imdonnalynn plot ideas
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Welcome To My Masterlist!
My name is Alli and I write sometimes.
Masterlist under the cut
✨Top Gun: Maverick✨
Series:
✨Bradley Bradshaw:
Remember You Even When I Don't: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement. (completed)
The Forgotten Moments: A One Shot Collection: Before he had to remember you, Bradley got to experience the whirlwind that was meeting and falling in love with you (the first time).
All stories in the collection can be read independently, but will precede or coincide with Remember You Even When I Don't.
This Love Came Back to Me: You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; truly, you stopped before the two of you could even really begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it. (completed)
One Shots:
✨ Bradley Bradshaw:
A Change to Everything: Marriage wasn’t an option for you. Bradley knew this and had promised you that what you had is and would always be enough for him. A few overpriced rings wouldn’t change that, so long as you promised to love him forever without one. But he buys you one anyway, and despite every promise you made to yourself, you wonder what it would be like if maybe, just maybe, you ever decided to put it on.
What Goes Around (Comes Around): Bradley didn’t do relationships, and neither did you. The arrangement you had worked perfectly for ten years, getting together whenever your paths crossed. But after the two of you were stationed permanently on the same squad, suddenly what you have isn’t quite enough for him anymore. It’s not until a close call in the air that he finally gathers the courage to admit it.
To Make a House a Home: House hunting in California was proving to be a challenge. Leave it to Bradley to manage to pull off the biggest surprise you’ve ever gotten.
The Art of Subtlety: You were quiet, almost shy, but Bradley suspected there was more to you than meets the eye. When Jake claims that it’s impossible for a woman to successfully fake an orgasm, you prove him wrong (while proving Bradley absolutely right) right there in the middle of the Hard Deck. With his world tilted on its axis at your little display, he’s left wondering: why are you so good at faking it, and how would you really sound if he’s the one bringing you pleasure?
Dancing in the Dark: Bradley was never one for clubs. Flashing lights, dance remixes of the same four songs, and overpriced watered down drinks just weren’t his thing. But you had begged him so prettily to go with you that he couldn’t help but agree. It was exactly as bad as he thought it was going to be, but when he saw how irresistible you looked on the dance floor, he decided to get his revenge in a way that left both of you satisfied but wanting more.
Clandestine Meetings: Bradley was coming home today. Six weeks on a no-contact deployment, stuck on a carrier in the middle of some non disclosed body of water, and he’s finally coming home. Normally, you’d be bursting at the seams with happy excitement. But the two of you had left things in an...interesting place. When he’s finally standing in front of you, you can tell by his cold and dark eyes that he remembers, too. But he’s had six weeks to think of exactly how you can earn his forgiveness, and you’re all too willing to do anything it takes.
Keep It Undercover: You and Bradley had shared a few beautiful weeks together, years after first meeting. You had been content with leaving it as a beautiful, delicious memory; something that could have been, if the stars would have aligned. Only now he was stationed in Fightertown permanently, and while he didn’t know what exactly that meant for the two of you long term, he knew what he wanted. He didn’t care about your age or that you outranked him. After all, he had always liked his girls a little bit older.
The Over/Under: Your friends insisted that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else. But you had been over your ex for a long time before you ever signed the papers, and you had no intention on hooking up with anyone. Then an attractive man with a mustache that really shouldn't look as good as it does catches your eye, and you suddenly forgot why you were hesitant in the first place.
✨Javy Machado:
I Don't Love You Like I Used To: After so many years with you, Javy Machado doesn't love you like he used to. He loves you so much more.
For roosterforme's #love is in the air tgm Writing Challenge!
The Double Negative Effect: Javy knows deep down after he goes into G-LOC that he’s not going to be selected for the mission. He goes to a bar on his own to drink away some of his sorrows, and while he’s there, he meets someone who is having just as rough of a time as he is. Misery loves company, and together, they cancel out the bad day the other is having, replacing it with a night they’ll remember for all the right reasons.
And I Want To Make Her Mine: Javy thought it was too good to be true when he saw you, the girl he had crushed on for almost a year, standing in the Hard Deck. But there you were, looking just as beautiful as you always had. He thought maybe he’d finally get his chance with you after all this time. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one whose attention you caught.
Merry Christmas Mishaps: Christmas looked a little different this year, and Javy knew you were having a hard time adjusting to it. You were used to the lights and the hustle and - God help him, the snow - that came with where you had called home for so long. You had given all that up to move to California to be with him, and he decided that if he couldn’t get you back on the east coast for the holiday, maybe he could improvise and start making new traditions here together, with a few surprises along the way.
The Great Escape: All you wanted on your wedding day was some time alone with your new husband. Luckily for you, Javy was more than game to make an escape and has just the hiding place in mind.
An Aviation Special: You had always wanted to experience Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but when it starts to go sideways thanks to your travel companions, you fear the whole trip, maybe even the whole city, has been ruined for you. But then a handsome stranger swoops in when some drunk idiot gets too handsy, and your night takes an unexpected turn for the better.
The Plus One: You couldn’t believe he was here. He had told you he would be, over and over again, but part of you had convinced yourself it was too good to be true. There was no way a man as perfect as Javy Machado would be so into you after you spent one night together, months ago, that he’d fly out to be your date to a wedding for people he’d never met before. Yet here he was, looking as good as a dream. By the end of the night you knew one thing for certain: a weekend with him would never be enough.
✨Javy Machado x Natasha Trace (Navy):
Repeated Offenses: Javy wasn’t sure what the mission was that called them back to Top Gun, but he knew if he was there, Phoenix would be too. He seeks her out that first night, knowing that it would be the same game between them as it always was. One of them was bound to get burned one of these days, but luckily for him, he’s never been afraid of playing with fire.
✨Jake Seresin:
Flight Suit Aphrodisiac: There was something about seeing Jake in his flight suit that got to you every single time. It had always been attractive, sure, but nowadays it was like something of an aphrodisiac. It didn’t matter what you were doing or where you were; when you saw him in it, you had to have him.
Twin Fire Signs: When the majority of your squad intentionally leaves you drunk and alone at a bar, you resign yourself to finding your own way home and dealing with your wounded pride in peace. But then your phone rings, the name of the last person you expected to be calling you on a Friday night flashing on your screen. You know you shouldn’t answer, but too much tequila has never led to great decisions.
Cowboy Resolutions: New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck with all of your friends was a tradition, one that you loved and held close to your heart. When you and your husband decide to slip away from the crowd for a late night stroll on the beach right before midnight, you realize that neither of you had the purest of intentions when it came to wanting to get away.
A Verbal Agreement: You hated Jake Seresin. Truly, you did. Or at least you strongly disliked him. But as it was, he did something for you that no other man could, and it kept you coming back for more.
✨Jake Seresin x Natasha Trace (Hannix):
Hell Bent, Heaven Sent: Truthfully, Jake didn’t like anything that she made him feel. Annoyed. Inferior. Submissive. But she also made his heart speed up and his palms sweat and despite everything he felt better when she was with him. Natasha Trace made him question everything about himself.
Alli's TGM Mix & Match Blurb Party Masterlist
*I do not give permission to copy/steal, translate, or publish elsewhere*
#alli writes#masterlist#tgm fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x reader#beyondthesefourwalls#jake seresin x reader#javy machado x reader#hannix#jake seresin x natasha trace#natasha trace x javy machado
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call sign: tennessee whiskey | rooster x fem!reader & hangman x phoenix | chapter one
summary: phoenix has always wanted to set up her two best friends in the navy -- ones that have, for whatever reason, still never crossed paths. that's all about to change when you get called back to TOPGUN for a special mission.
warnings: enemies to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of death, strong possibility of military inaccuracies, second person pov, no use of y/n,
wc: 4.2k
a/n: not me having the audacity to take a crack at a top gun: maverick fic. this is what happens when i watch tgm 7x in one week. a fic is born. and in my defense, this cast has so much damn chemistry how could i not?! this is a oneshot idea that turned into a series that's turned into a series and a sequel? oops. 10/10 recommend listening to the song tennessee whiskey by chris stapleton.
masterlist | the playlist | chapter two
She’s shocked but she knows better than to be surprised.
At least that’s what Phoenix reminds herself as she watches the heated interaction between Rooster and Hangman at the pool table. It can’t have been more than five minutes since Rooster’s arrival for the two of them to get into it. And the way he looked at her just a moment ago? With his smug, annoyingly handsome, overconfident face right before taking another dig at Rooster?
She hates it.
And she hates that it made her feel something.
She can’t put her finger on it: disgust, unadulterated rage, whatever the hell else would make you want to kiss and kill someone at the same time.
She exchanges unamused glances with Rooster once again, shaking her head in the beyond cocky fighter pilot.
“Well, he sure hasn’t changed,” she scoffs, watching as Hangman makes his way back to the jukebox to select another song.
“Nope. Sure hasn’t,” Rooster agrees with dismay.
“Check it out. More badges,” Payback says, turning his attention to the way of the new arrivals. “That’s Harvard, Yale, Omaha… shit that’s Fritz.”
“What kind of mission is this?” Fanboy asks, taking note as the best of the best continue to arrive at the Hard Deck tonight.
As Phoenix asks the question everyone is wondering – who the hell the US Navy plans to teach the top 1% of fighter pilots – she notices Rooster’s disappeared from the conversation around the pool table. It doesn’t take long before someone’s cut the power to the jukebox causing a collective groan to ring out within the four walls of the Hard Deck.
A smile creeps across Phoenix’s face as she knows exactly where Rooster’s gone. The sound of a few riffs on the piano being played catch her attention, and she excuses herself from the pool table. She joins her good friend she met at flight school, in all of his Hawaiin shirt-clad glory.
“You missed me, Trace?” Rooster says, stealing a glance from the side of his old friend.
“Not even a little bit,” she teases him in return.
But Rooster understands.
What she means is ‘yes I have,’ and ‘you could’ve called.’
The commotion of Maverick being thrown out of the bar interrupts their brief reunion, and while Phoenix watches, Rooster occupies himself with the task at hand. His large aviators that cover his eyes make it easier to ignore the fact that the closest thing he’d ever had to a father figure had been called back to North Island too. His long fingers run over the keys of the barely-in-tune piano of the Hard Deck, unwilling to acknowledge the presence of the man. Instead, he charges forward, noticing how easy it is to slip into the familiar rhythm of being back at TOPGUN.
Outside of the bar, Jake’s having a little too much fun throwing the old aviator overboard with Payback and Coyote. As he heads back inside, he doesn’t join Payback and Fanboy at the piano with the rest of them, instead choosing to head to the bar for another round of beers. He leans back against the bar, watching as the whole bar seems wrapped in singing along to Rooster’s personal anthem. Hangman takes another swig of his beer amused by the sight.
He’s not sure why he’s so hesitant to join in on the fun but he doesn’t move – can’t let Rooster have this one. Hangman lets his gaze linger on Phoenix from a distance as she dances (in his opinion) a little too closely for his liking to Rooster.
He’ll never admit it, but he’s always been entranced by the woman he met at TOPGUN all those years ago at his graduation. She was a part of the incoming class, the one right behind his, and he’s not sure how, in the same damn khaki uniform as everyone else, she’s always looked this good.
Her eyes light up as someone or something across the room catches her attention, and she’s practically jumping up, sprinting across the Hard Deck and into the arms of another naval aviator.
And for the first time tonight, a genuine smile spreads across his lips.
He wondered when you’d show.
As soon as he got the call, you’d texted him immediately asking if he’d gotten the same request for this mysterious special op. Earlier, when he’d watched Harvard and Yale roll in with Halo, your WSO he knew your arrival was almost moments away. But you’d never been the most punctual when it came to your personal life, so he wasn’t surprised that you were running behind. Jake chuckles to himself thinking about all the trouble you used to get into at the academy for not being on time. Almost got you kicked out a few times too, if he recalls correctly.
It'd been too long since he’d seen you last, now that you were stationed at Lemoore. He loved teasing you about what a Californian you’d turned into, now that you’d been out of Texas.
“Gonna start callin’ you Phoenix if you spend any more time in California, kid,” he’d teased you during your last phone call, referencing the LA native you both admired.
But Jake’s almost forgotten about how close you are with Natasha – the three of you always circling around each other, never quite in the same place at the same time. He’s definitely forgotten (or at least tried to) the time you called him a lovesick idiot after he wouldn’t shut up about a certain fighter pilot he’d met during a certain deployment.
What could he say?
His first deployment with Phoenix had left… quite the impression on him… and you knew him well enough to call him out on it.
Of course, Phoenix had wanted nothing to do with him at the time. His usual tricks – that Southern Charm and perfectly symmetrical face – only seemed to repulse her even more and he had to admit that it made him like her even more.
“Whiskey!” she practically shouts, as Jake watches the two of you embrace.
“Sorry I’m late. I would’ve come earlier if I knew there was a singalong,” you smirk, taking in the sigh of the more than jovial crowd huddled around the piano. “But once I hit LA traffic. Shit. That’s what I get for leaving for wanting to take my own damn car.”
“Oh I think he’s just getting started,” she replies, nodding towards Rooster.
Before you can say anything else, before you can take a good look at the man behind the piano, Hangman’s cut your reunion-for-two short.
“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” he croons, his Texas drawl prominent in the way he says each word.
“Hangman, you son of a bitch!” you squeal, meaning the last part in the most endearing way possible.
“Hey, kid,” he greets you with the biggest smile you’ve seen all day.
You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, jumping into his arms. Jake picks you up, spinning you around before setting you back down on the ground as you laugh. Your public display of affection earns a few looks your way, and Phoenix pretends to vomit on the floor in response.
You laugh again, “You think I’d get a free pass after putting up with this one for over ten years.”
“This… is something I’ll never understand,” Natasha replies, gesturing towards the space between the two of you.
“You jealous, Phoenix?” Hangman asks, a confidence behind his words.
Nat sends a snarky look his way before answering, dryly:
“Only in your dreams, Bagman.”
“You’re right about that,” he flirts shamelessly, giving her a wink.
“Oh gross!” you say with an eye roll. You playfully punch Jake in the chest, pushing him away from you and Natasha.
“Get your own friend. Besides, Nat and I have some catching up to do and I’m in need of a drink,” you continue, earning a groan from Jake.
“What? I can’t watch?” he smirks, earning another fake vomit from Phoenix.
“No, Bagman,” you tease, using the callsign you know Nat loves to demean him with. “We’re gonna talk shit about you.”
He shoots you a look, shaking his head at your snarky remark. He knows it’s out of love – at least from you. He concedes, tipping his beer towards you as a form of ‘cheers’ before taking a few steps away.
You and Nat exchange a laugh, before linking arms and heading towards the bar.
“I don’t know how you’ve put up with him for more than five minutes,” she remarks, searching for an available bartender.
“He’s not all that bad once you get past all the bullshit. And there’s a lot of it,” you reply honestly.
“No thanks,” Phoenix dismisses, before flagging down Penny.
You watch as she orders the two of you a round of beers and you can’t help but find it funny how quick she was to dismiss Jake. It’s true: you’ve always thought the two of them were more alike than they were different. Sure, Jake made questionable decisions on the daily. But even after all of these years, he still had more heart than anyone you’d met this side of the Mississippi.
“How was your trip?” you ask Phoenix, making small talk to start.
“It was alright. Came in a few days earlier to see some family in LA first,” she answers with a shrug.
“How’s your mom?” you ask, curiously.
And Phoenix answers, filling you in that her mom is doing much better than the last time you talked, and her brother and his wife are moving back to LA. You tell her that you’re finally getting used to California, while the two of you wonder about this top secret, special mission that you’ve all been called back to TOPGUN for.
“Oh! Speaking of the best of the best. Uh… my best friend is here,” she starts with a smile on her face.
“Excuse me. I thought… I was your best friend… at least in the Navy,” you tease her.
She rolls her eyes playfully, “No, I mean. Rooster. I’ve actually been wanting to introduce the two of you for years...”
Phoenix gestures towards the man behind the piano still going at it, and you move over to get a good look at him. He’s hot. You’ll give her that. And you’re not usually into the whole mustache thing but it somehow seems to make him even more attractive. His oversized aviators are hanging off his face as he pounds away at the keys of the piano and you can’t imagine what grown adult man would wear Hawaiin shirts by choice.
And yet, everything about him you’d normally find cringe-worthy in a man, he seems to pull off.
He knows it too.
There’s a group of girls gathered around the piano that are gossiping as they watch him riff on another instrumental song.
And boy is he eating it up: the attention, the praise, he knows he has the ears of everyone at the Hard Deck tonight.
“The piano player. From flight school?” you question, curiously, as you begin to connect the dots.
“Yeah!” she answers, her eyes lighting up at your immediate recognition. “Yeah that’s where we met. Reminds me of you, actually. Just the way we both clicked instantly… and you’ve both become life-long friends.”
You think back to your first deployment as a naval aviator. You and Phoenix were sent on a mission in Sarajevo and had become fast friends. At first, you wondered if you grew so close so quickly because you were the only women on that deployment, but you’d discovered over the years that your friendship with Nat was unique. While you’d usually expect a fast friendship to fizzle out, your relationship with Nat had only grown stronger over the years.
“Hm,” you sound in response, giving Rooster another lookover.
Nat’s other best friend.
Sure.
Nat’s hot other best friend.
“What’s with the porn ‘stache?” you ask, playfully.
She chuckles, “Long story for a different time.”
“C’mon! I’ll introduce you to everyone else,” Phoenix encourages you, grabbing your hand and practically dragging you over to the pool table with her.
“Gentleman,” she says cooly, greeting the uniform-clad men that surround the pool table.
“This is Whiskey,” she announces, introducing you. “Top of her class at TOPGUN and the only person on the planet that can get me to drink the worm at the bottom of a bottle of tequila.”
“Yo, I’ve heard about you,” Payback says, immediately recognizing your callsign.
“I could say the same about you, Payback,” you reply, and he’s surprised to see you already know his callsign. “Coyote, ‘s always a pleasure.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nods to you.
“Wait. You two already know each other?” Payback asks, looking from you to Coyote.
“Texas,” you both answer at the same time, exchanging a smile.
“Us Texans gotta stick together. Especially at the top,” Coyote clarifies.
“I’m Fanboy. And this here is Harvard and Bob,” Fanboy says, finishing his introduction of at least the aviators engaged in the game at the time.
“It’s nice to meet you two,” you reply, looking from Fanboy to Harvard.
You notice that it seems like Rooster’s little performance has ended and the jukebox has been plugged back in. It doesn’t surprise you that Hangman’s slipped out, probably to cue up his own personal soundtrack for the night. Bob is busy lining up his pool cue, but you already know him from Lemoore. He and Fanboy continue their game, and you wonder where Halo snuck off to.
Bob shoots his shot, missing miserably with a sigh as the rest of the aviators cry out in supportive disappointment for him.
“Bob, ya really can’t do better than that, huh?” you hear the Southern drawl of Jake heading your way.
You and Phoenix exchange a look, knowing just how much Jake is going to enjoy picking on the little guy.
“Let me show you how it’s really done,” Jake smirks, snatching the pool cue out of Fanboy’s hands as he struts towards the pool table.
You decide that someone needs to humble him, and you know just how you’re going to do it.
“Easy there, Seresin,” you say, intercepting his gait. You stand your ground, right between him and the pool table, blocking his way.
Jake stops in his tracks, as you stand toe to toe with him, barely inches apart from each other in a battle of the egos. Coyote lets out a whistle and you can hear Phoenix and Bob snickering in the corner as they watch on.
“You see, I can’t let you do that because… it’s my turn, actually,” you challenge him, a rebellious look on your face. “So you’re just going to have to wait for yours.”
“Damn. You gonna let her talk to you like that, Hangman?” Coyote whistles, always amused by how willing you are to throw yourself in front of the moving bus that is Jake Seresin.
“Don’t let her fool you. Whiskey’s always been sweet on me. Ain't that right, kid?” he coos, his eyes never leaving yours.
“HA!” you hear Nat laugh loudly, as you raise your eyebrows up at Jake.
You don’t dare break eye contact. There’s no way in hell he’s winning this one.
He shoots you a look that says, ‘you really want to do this right now?’ and you shoot him a look that says, ‘you’re being a bully.’
“Bullshit. She’s got you by the balls, lieutenant,” Phoenix hollers.
“And he wouldn’t have it any other way,” you say, winking in her direction. You refocus your attention back on your best friend, pressing your lips together in a thin line “Besides, we all know that Hangman here has a soft spot for women who degrade him.”
You grab the pool cue out of his hand before bringing your opposite hand to tap him twice on the cheek, eliciting another round and whoops and hollers from the group of guys.
“Ain’t that right, Bagman?” you throw in, parroting his condescending phrase from earlier.
Jake shakes his head, knowing that you won this one as he watches you move around the pool table to set up your next shot. Bob watches on, impressed with the way you stood up to Hangman like that, especially in defense of himself.
“If nobody warned you, Bob, the ‘T’ in Texas stands for trouble,” Coyote remarks, nudging Bob as he settles in next to the WSO.
While you’re busy celebrating your win with Bob, Fanboy, and Phoenix, Rooster’s across the room, closing out his tab and grabbing his last beer of the night. He eyes you carefully. He’s never seen someone standup to Hangman like that, nor has he witnessed Hangman take it. He’s heard about you – remembered what Nat’s said over the years: that you were her other best friend, that you were one hell of a pilot, that he should stop making shitty decisions with women and just let her set the two of you up.
And after what he’s seen tonight? He’s intrigued.
You’re electric, and he’s impressed.
What he doesn’t remember is Nat ever mentioning that you knew Hangman – let alone this well. Were you and Hangman a thing? He can see a closeness between the two of you – a kind of intimacy he’s never seen Hangman have with anyone, despite the revolving door of women he seems to keep around whenever they’ve been deployed together. But it doesn’t make sense, because why the hell would Phoenix want to set him up with someone if she were Hangman’s girl?
Rooster makes his way over to the pool table after you and Hangman’s confrontation, his lips pressed to the top of the glass bottle.
Hangman’s hanging out on the edge of the group, flipping through something on his phone with his right hand and nursing a beer in his left.
He doesn’t want to sound too interested, but curiosity gets the best of him as he asks, “What was that all about?”
“What?” Jake shoots back, looking up from his smartphone.
“You and Whiskey…” Rooster says, trying not to sound too desperate for information.
But Hangman picks up on Rooster’s interest in his best friend immediately. He smirks, knowing that his relationship with you is just another thing he can use to get under Bradshaw’s skin.
“Spent a little time at the naval academy together, that’s all,” Hangman replies vaguely. When he’s met with silence, Jake knows that he’s got something here. He turns to his rival, scanning for a reaction on Rooster’s face.
“What? You interested?”
Instead of answering, Rooster just shakes his head, taking another swig of his beer. It doesn’t take long for Natasha to steal Rooster away so that she can introduce the two of you, her eyes glimmering with excitement and the gears turning in her head.
“Call it a rescue,” she mutters under breath as she drags him away from Hangman’s presence.
Much to Nat’s disappointment, the introduction isn’t much. Just an exchange of hellos, names and callsigns before Halo comes to find you for a catch up.
The rest of the night goes on, accompanied by Hangman’s pick of tunes, and it’s filled with old friends, catch ups, and a few more rounds of pool. It’s good to be back here. In a way it feels nostalgic, and anyone would be lying if they couldn’t admit that being selected to be a part of this mission was a huge boost for the ego. While it’s cool to have some Lemoore buddies with you, it’s good to see your old friends too – the ones you don’t get to see as often – like Jake. Like Phoenix. These are bonds forged in battle, and people you’d trust with your life.
It’s not till the end of the night that you realize that you may have had one too many, so you step out for some air. San Diego is perfect almost year round, you think, as you watch the waves crash against each other.
“You good? I saw you slip out,” you hear a voice say.
You’re surprised to find Rooster standing behind you, just outside of the entrance of the Hard Deck. You hadn’t gotten much time to meet him, despite Nat’s best efforts.
“Yeah, I just think I’ve had a little too much to drink. Wanted to get some air,” you reply with a small laugh. “Thanks though. For checking in.”
“Can’t have you gettin’ into any trouble. Nat would kill me,” he says, taking a few steps toward you.
This time, you fully turn towards him, resting your back against the railing, as he holds out a cup of water.
“Thought you might want a glass of water too.”
“You’re a good friend. At least that’s what Nat’s said about you,” you say with a smile, taking the glass of water he’s offered you.
“She said that?” he asks, only a little surprised.
You nod in response.
Rooster joins you, standing side by side, his back pressed against the railing, mirroring your body language.
There’s a long silence between the two of you as you drink your water. After a big night of friends old and new, it’s nice to have a moment of quiet too – the waves being the only sound between the two of you.
“So… you and Jake?” Rooster asks, interrupting your momentary shared silence.
“Oh!” you gasp, another laugh following.
You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the question that makes you feel a little warmer as you contemplate how to answer his question. Between your greeting upon arrival and your standoff at the pool table, you can imagine why Rooster would think that. You can’t blame him. The two of you get mistaken as a couple all the time, especially when you’re out and about in your civvies.
“No, there's-, there’s no me and Jake. I mean. We… met at the naval academy. He was two years ahead of me and kinda took me under his wing when he found out that I was a fellow Texan. We’ve been close friends ever since,” you clarify, trying your best to explain your uncommon friendship with Hangman.
Rooster scoffs, a blush running across his cheeks as he mutters an unconvinced yet conceding with, “Okay.”
“What? You don’t believe me,” you ask, turning your head to watch his reaction.
“No, it’s not that! I uh… I’ve just… never seen Hangman let anyone talk to him like that. I just… made some assumptions, I guess. Sorry,” he apologizes, almost embarrassed that he asked in the first place.
“No it’s okay,” you reassure him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder before crossing your arms over your chest. “In your defense, there was one kiss at school back in the day that ended promptly when I laughed him out of my dorm room.”
Rooster laughs, the idea of it completely contradictory to the playboy persona Hangman portrays to the world.
“Now that’s a story I want to hear,” he smirks.
You shake your head, “There’s not much to tell. I promise.”
“He always been this much of an ass?” Rooster asks, stealing another glance your way.
“Oh yeah. And he’s always been this fucking annoying too,” you add playfully.
He agrees and the two of you exchange glances again. You’re starting to see why Phoenix has raved about him all these years and you’ve barely had a real conversation with him.
“Then why do you put up with him?” Rooster asks again, this time a little more seriously. He’s not sure why, but he really wants to hear that you don’t have feelings for Jake.
“Because… there was a time we were both just dumb kids, y'know? Because he may be an annoying, self-centered, overconfident little shit... but he's my annoying, self-centered, overconfident little shit. And I’m stuck with him,” you admit, genuinely.
Your capacity for empathy leaves an impact on him. He’s going to be thinking about this conversation for a few days.
“Fair enough.”
“So what’s the story behind your callsign?” he asks, changing the subject.
You raise an eyebrow, “What’s the story behind yours?”
Instead of answering, he just shakes his head and you laugh, knowing he’s not going to tell you. You don’t answer either, taking another sip of the water he’s brought out for you.
*
“Hooooly shit,” Rooster marvels, watching as you pull of an extremely tricky maneuver in your two-seater F/A-18.
It’s you and Halo paired up with Harvard as your wingman for this round of the dogfight exercise. And while you may be impressive, you’re still no match for Maverick, as he gets you with a killshot just for trying to show off.
“You got to give it to her. That was smooth,” Fanboy admires as the rest of the aviators watch the exercise from inside the watchtower.
Jake chuckles in response. You’ve always been full of surprises and he’s always finds it amusing when someone new discovers it.
“Like Tennessee Whiskey, fellas,” he answers, his Texas drawl a love letter to your shared home state.
He shakes his head watching you fly before adding:
“Some things never change.”
read: chapter two
*
A/N: HI ITS ME. How're feeling up in this club and why is everyone so hot and have so much sexual tension? Anyways... should I continue this or nah??
#call sign tennessee whiskey#rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw x reader#hangman x phoenix#hannix#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradsaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#natasha phoenix trace#phoenix top gun#jake hangman seresin#rooster x reader#hangman top gun#jake seresin
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The Relationship Experience - one
part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe
prologue
Nothing especially interesting happened between the hours of 4:45am to now, in fact, the whole day had been so slow since Rooster retrieved his dog tags. It was about 6:30pm and you hadn’t heard from him. It wasn’t an entire surprise. He was at work; he didn’t have the luxury of the day off like you.
You were restless, so incredibly listless. After Rooster left, sleep didn’t come easily. Your brain couldn’t stop relaying the moments from the night before. By midday, you were buzzing on coffee and waning adrenaline. Tasks seemed impossible, all you managed was to remove your makeup and eat some bland toast. Everything felt out of flux and made you feel off-kilter, figuratively turned upside down.
You reckoned you had commenced and deleted at least 10 texts to Rooster to thank him again for yesterday, that you couldn’t stop thinking about his kiss, the way he touched you, that you were… absolutely infatuated with him.
What was most tragic was you couldn’t find the nerve to hit ‘send’ on absolutely any of them. In fact, you couldn't find the nerve to text anyone – not Natasha demanding how the night went; not your sister asking how you’d pulled up after such a big day; not the bride and groom thanking you and Bradley for your incredibly thoughtful wedding gift (how was it incredibly thoughtful if it was on a wedding registry, you’d never know but hey. They didn’t hate it) and that you must double date soon. Yeah, okay.
The most common thing you brought yourself back to while everything else spun around you?
What had Bradley Bradshaw done to you?
24 hours ago, you were fine, perfectly content with most aspects of your life with your strictly platonic friend, Rooster. And now? Not a single thing seemed to fit in its place.
At 7:01pm, your phone buzzed while you attempted the week’s lesson plans for yourself and your team, but little was coming to fruition. A little too eager, you knocked the phone directly off the bed and into the pile of yesterday’s still damp bridesmaid dress, rocketing you straight back to the dancefloor during the bridal waltz and the electricity of Rooster’s touch as he claimed your first dance together. God, he could move. The way he pulled your body to his, the gentle caress of his hands on your back. You could almost smell his cologne in the air –
Finding your phone, you saw another text from Natasha that simply said, ‘Please don’t make me call you. I hate talking on the phone. Just want to know Rooster didn’t murder you and leave you in a ditch x’
Confronting, you thought to yourself. It was time to give in.
You: I’m alive. Sorry, just working/planning the week’s lessons.
Natasha: Awesome, I’ll be there in 10. I have pizza, wine and I want every fucking detail from last night. Rooster is giving me absolutely nothing. Don’t be like Rooster. See you soon x
“Shit,” you muttered, still in your Lakers tee from this morning. You really should have made some kind of effort, realising if Rooster turned up unannounced – shit, you didn’t want to put that tragedy into the universe. Busting your ass, you ran for the shower and in record time, you’d washed your hair and ridded the rest of the last 36 hours off you as well.
Tossing on jeans and a tee over your bra and undies, you heard Natasha's relentless beating on the door. Dashing to it, you opened it to a very flustered, albeit adorable, Natasha Trace, pizza and wine in hand, as promised.
“You are the cutest delivery service ever,” you smiled, stepping out of the doorway and taking the pizza from her as she wandered in, rolling her deep brown eyes.
“I was about to smash a window in. You’ve been radio silent all goddamn day, I thought you were dead!” she huffed, casual and not dissimilar to yourself in blue jeans and a white tee, hair in a messy bun. “Respond. To. Texts,” she instructed. “Especially when I’m absolutely desperate to know what happened last night!” she added the last a little hysterically as you bit back a laugh.
"It was okay. My feet are still killing me. You know, I don't mind weddings," you told her, falling on the couch, tossing the pizza box on the coffee table as she went to the kitchen. You put some music on for some background noise. "I just don't like being in them,” you clarified.
“Imagining your wedding day...” Natasha teased.
“Don’t think we have much to worry about there,” you giggled.
Natasha smiled, wandering back with the glasses as you tuckered eagerly into a slice, not realising how hungry you were after forgoing most meals today. "I'm glad you had a good time; I've never seen anyone dread anything more. Rooster said he enjoyed himself."
His name off someone else’s tongue sent a jolt of electricity through your system.
"He seemed to," you shrugged, not wanting to talk too much about him for fear everything will come out. She took a seat beside you, unscrewing the wine and pouring a glass each.
“I’ll just take care of this too, huh?” she muttered as you apologised, a mouth full of cheese and pepperoni.
“Sow-ry,” you replied and swallowed, giving her a greasy smile. “I’m famished and this is so good.”
“I hope to find out myself,” she laughed quietly. “So, tell me everything. And don’t leave a fucking thing out because you are a terrible liar, and I will see right through it.”
Wide-eyed, you nodded, believing her. “Ask me anything, I guess?” you replied, frankly terrified of her for a moment.
"How was his suit? Details, immediately, if not sooner,” she asked calmly. Too calmly.
"Pretty good," you understated.
“Pix?”
“Uhh, no,” you replied. “There was some taken by the photographer, but it sincerely never crossed my mind to get any. Rooster and I didn’t pose for any.”
“You two are fuckin’ killing me!” she exclaimed as you shrugged, meekly.
From the moment Rooster had sauntered into the reception, you were both so wretchedly lost in each other to consider the small things like pix and you loathed how excited this conversation would be if you were just allowed to be honest. Natasha Trace was your friend, a really fucking good one, she knew you (and Rooster) well and read people even better. “Blue velvet jacket, dark slacks,” you frowned as she did too. “Cute bow tie.”
“Did you dance or, like, be wallflowers all night?” her voice trailed off.
“We danced a few times. He’s a good dancer,” you force-fed yourself more pizza while the wine breathed. How could you overstep the mark if you were stuffing your face? Couldn’t incriminate yourself if you simply couldn’t speak! Logic? Denial.
“Slow danced?” she wriggled her eyebrows as you laughed gently.
“Yes, we slow danced. He was very respectful, Carole raised him right.”
“Carole?”
“His mother,” you stood up and pointed to the photo on the wall that had Rooster so enamoured the night before.
“She’s really beautiful.”
“So beautiful.”
“Rooster looks nothing like her,” she studied the photo.
“No,” you grinned, plonking back down. “All his old man, even to the mo.”
“I honestly forgot how intrinsically linked you two are,” she said wistfully. “This whole thing of being friends for so long, then the classic fake relationship to save face at a wedding.”
And here it comes. “Nat…”
“You know the writing is clearly on the wall, right?” she told you, pulling at a string of mozzarella between her fingers. You felt completely transparent. She was daring you... and frankly, not having to try too hard.
“What do you mean?” you asked warily.
She plonked the cheese into her mouth and paused. “You know I’m a total romantic at heart.”
“Absolutely. What you’re doing with Bagman is baffling to me.”
“It’s only sex,” she rolled her eyes at you. “I’ve told you the rules.”
“And are you… following the rules?” you asked kindly. “Because initially, fucking Jake was a one-night thing… but now it’s like a weekly booty call on your whim. I cannot remember the last time he tried picking someone up in the bar. You wake up in each other’s beds - ” you reminded her thoughtfully.
“Bitch, you know I can dish it out, but I can’t take it,” she pretended to be sad, before blowing a raspberry and giving you the thumbs down.
“Have you said, ‘I love you’ yet?” you continued.
“We’re not talking about me, all right?” she cracked. “We’re talking about you and Bradshaw. You’re the goss tonight, not me and Bagman,” she scoffed at the mere mention of Jake’s name.
Giggling quietly, you nodded. “Okay, ask me. You know you want to…”
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Natasha was so ready for this. You just gave her all the ammo she needed. "Did he... kiss you?" she leaned forward, elbows on knees, so eager. Pouting, you sighed, and her smile grew. "I fucking knew it!" she exclaimed. “He was far too quiet for his usual grandstanding.”
“But you can’t say anything!” you pleaded, pointing at her.
“Then tell me everything I need to know and I’ll make sure to – ” she zipped her lips. “Let’s start again. Suit?”
“It was really fuckin’ good,” you said, a little dreamy in memory, easing back lazily on the couch cushions. “I’ve never seen him sexier. I don’t think I even thought he was sexy before last night.”
“Oh, babe. Rooster is stupidly hot and I say this from a strictly platonic place,” she informed you. "He will lay you so good. How did you never see it?”
“I mean, yeah, he was always handsome. But his suit...”
“Had to be more than a suit.”
“You’re right. It was everything...”
Natasha’s smile was as dreamy as yours, so happy for you. “Did you sleep with him?”
“No,” you said, quickly. “Trust me when I say I tried. But he wasn’t having it.”
Frowning, maybe a little surprised, she asked, “Rooster? Rooster Bradshaw did not try to sleep with you?”
“No,” you said, subconsciously bringing back the embarrassment of earlier this morning. You still felt a little rejected and humiliated at how you threw yourself at Rooster, but Natasha didn’t seem to notice. Ew, you didn’t enjoy reliving it twice.
“You did bring the right guy home, right?”
You nodded, solemnly. “Yes. I completely threw myself at him,” you confided.
“And he still didn’t bone you?” she frowned.
“No,” you sipped the wine, barely tasting it. Fuck.
“Holy shit, that big oaf is in love with you,” she prophesied, thrusting her arms in the air in comprehension.
“What?” you shook your head. “Knock it off, Natasha.”
“Nah, he wants to wait, he is considering this,” she pondered aloud, clutching her wine glass to her heart. “He’s gonna take you to a romantic dinner in town, have fuckin’ rose petals strewn everywhere, candles. He’s gonna lay you down and make sweet, sweet love to you – ”
“When did my life turn into a 90’s music video?” you wondered as she laughed.
“Oh, my God, I’m so happy for you guys! I’m so happy for myself because I was right, but oh, wow. He’s in deep! Tell. Me. More,” she exchanged her glass for pizza, taking a satisfying bite. “Don’t leave anything out.”
“Natasha, Rooster was a new person to me last night. He was so charming and funny, and handsome. Oh, my word - so sexy. He took such good care of me. Whenever someone made me uncomfortable, he held my hand, rubbed my back, and played with my hair. Always something. He touched me all night."
“Tactile,” she nodded, impressed.
“So tactile, yes!" you said in revelation, the smell of the pizza calling to you as you chewed another bite. "His hands are amazing. Strong, comforting, you know?"
“I feel I knew Rooster was capable of these things," she admitted, slowly. "But actually hearing it, I still don't completely believe it. Is he a good kisser?" she shimmied, desperate for the answer.
“The best kisser,” you sighed, memories reverberating through your mind of his lips on yours, his tongue pressing against yours -
“And the moustache?” she gave a face that may or may not have said ‘ick’.
“Will take some time, but I didn’t hate it,” you confessed. “Natasha?”
She hummed. “Yes, my love?”
“It was the best night of my life,” you said quietly.
“Holy fuck, you’re in love with him too,” she realised, the pizza falling from her grasp back into the box.
“No, no,” you waved the notion away. You’d never fallen fast in your life, and this certainly wasn’t going to be one of those whimsical rom-com times. “I mean, I had a crush on him in high school, and this feels nothing like it.”
“You had a crush on him in high school?!” she screeched.
“I never mentioned that?” you asked meekly and for good reason - if anyone got a sniff of your teenage crush on Rooster Bradshaw, it would be on for young and old and your soul didn’t need that embarrassment in your life and he probably didn’t either.
“And I’m just learning this now?!.”
“The crush disappeared when he left for college. It’s no big thing,” you told her honestly.
And it really wasn’t.
“I didn’t see him for a few years, and then I went to college, and we didn’t see each other for a while until around the time I met you,” you shrugged. While you spent your childhood and teen years in similar circles, you really drifted after Rooster turned 18. Why wouldn’t you? He was growing up and following his dreams. You were too.
Grandpa encouraged you to study over East (Annie had mentioned he didn’t want either of you young, dumb and settled on some Navy dolt who managed to say the right things to you and keep you trapped when there was a whole world to see) and accept a swimming scholarship before you tried to figure your life out.
You’d swam all your life, competitively, you would teach as your summer job and after realising you weren’t the calibre required to swim professionally, passing your knowledge on seemed the next appropriate step. Swimming was a universal language, so you took a few courses and taught your way around th world for a while.
It wasn’t a big thing that Rooster fell out of your life.
“I remember the night I met you,” Natasha smiled fondly. “My God, you little cutie patootie. Was it Annie’s hen’s night? Bachelorette?”
“Same same.”
“And Rooster was definitely in town.”
“Yeah, I think he was,” you recalled faintly. “Wow, I haven’t been that drunk in a while,” you admitted. “Thank Christ.” Putting your head in your hands, you recalled only bits and pieces of that night. The rest was a blacked-out mystery. Probably for the best.
“Must be growing up,” she teased, raising her wine glass to you. “I’ve never seen you so happy in our entire friendship and I’m so, so happy for you.”
“Thank you,” you said, taking her free hand and cuddling it to your cheek.
"You know, Rooster’s always been super into you, I can't believe I didn't set you two up earlier. I kind of regret it now."
"Nah,” you frowned, exchanging her cheek for your discarded pizza again.
"True story. I'd catch him watching you every once in a while, that way he immediately moves from his bar stool and ushers you in when you get to the bar. I'm not getting that treatment," she kind of huffed.
Holy shit, he did. Every time, he’d guide you with a gentle hand to your hip and you’d think absolutely nothing of it.
“He’ll always order you a beer and you’ll drink a mouthful to be polite because you hate it but he always finishes it.”
“It’s a beer bar,” you shrugged. “Wait, what? He finishes it?”
“He’s not going to waste perfectly good beer,” Natasha reasoned as your phone pinged. You pleaded it wasn’t him, this was not the time for Rooster to text. Not with Natasha here. You were already getting grilled, but a text from him would only make matters worse –
“‘Rooster’ and a Rooster, cute,” she smiled, holding up your phone. “‘Missed you today. Did you still wanna catch up or…’” she said verbatim. “And kiss you a little more. Maybe see what comes up,” she gyrated on the couch. “Do you want me to leave?”
“He said he was going to come over, but I haven’t heard from him all day. You were here first.”
“Aww,” she said, almost touched. “It’s okay, text him back. You get yourself laid.”
Rubbing your face, embarrassed, you replied, “Nat, I love you, but you need to calm down.”
She breathed. “You’re right, I do. My two best friends are totally in love and I need to be cool, calm and collected about it,” she smiled, putting the lid on the pizza. “I will go, but I’m taking the pizza with me.”
“Nooo,” you replied, grabby hands for at least another slice. Curious, now knowing Rooster had a few obvious tells about his feelings for you, you dared ask, “Nat, did I do anything?"
“For what?”
“Did I have any tells with Rooster?”
She shook her head with a gentle smile. "Nah, no one can get a read on you, baby," she winked. “But Rooster... He's quieter when you're around. When you're not there, he's one of the boys, a part of the pissing contest, you know?”
“Oh,” you tried to hide the disappointment in your voice. You didn't want him changing himself for you.
"Don't be offended," she continued. "I think it is just more respect, you know? You two have known each other for a long time. It’s sweet."
"Like Jake doesn't have for you?" you teased.
"Exactly. We're only fucking, we're not in a relationship. If he went soft on me, stopped challenging me, stopped trying to make me better, I'd dump his dumb ass."
“Kinda sounds like a relationship…” you dared as she put the cap back on the wine.
“And for that, I’m taking the wine too,” she huffed. “Bagman and I have ground rules,” she reiterated again.
“Of course, of course,” you nodded, playing along.
“The line won’t be crossed.”
“Who are you trying to convince?”
“And on that note, on a night that I was supposed to savage you, you’ve turned it onto me and now I’m just feeling attacked,” she huffed disappointment, her wine and pizza in her arms and heading towards the door.
“I really like him, Nat,” you said dismally as you both stopped at the door. “I don’t know him anymore and I need to know everything now,” you rambled.
Natasha gave a genuine smile, no more of that shit-eating, ‘I was right’ stuff. No more posturing. “I know. And I’m so happy for you. Because I think you and Rooster will be incredible together. You both deserve this,” she surprised you with a hug. “And if he hurts you, I can actually kill him. Goodnight, fuck safe,” she instructed.
“Jesus Christ,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Go fall a little more in love with Bagman,” you sighed, pushing her gently out of the apartment. “Pretend when you head to his room that the pizza and wine was for you guys the whole time.”
She cackled on the way back to her car. “Fuck him, this pizza and wine are mine!”
“Sure,” you called after her, waiting for her to get back to her car. She waved once and drove away. You closed the door, collecting your thoughts. Okay, so you and Rooster had absolutely no idea where you stood but you practically praised the ground he walked on to Natasha, so she knew. Good. You hated secrets. Not that you tried very hard to keep this one. She broke you incredibly quickly.
Wandering back to the couch, you found your phone and sat down, tucking your legs under you, anxious to respond to Rooster and potentially see him soon.
You: I thought you’d forgotten about me… come over anytime x
“No, you fucking loser,” you deleted the text you were about to send and tried again.
You: I’m home.
Hitting send, you added a quick “xx” to the next text to make it seem less cold than you intended. You groaned. “You are such a fucking idiot.”
Rooster 🐓: What about 8? I’m just getting in. Long day.
You: Anytime xx
two.
masterlist.
a/n: gotta say, party crew, with engagement way down, I’m unlikely to keep a schedule for this series. thank you to those who comment and reblogged, you’re the true mvp’s. know that I see every one of them, and you absolutely move me x
#notroosterbradshaw#natasha phoenix trace#rooster#rooster x reader#rooster x you#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster x oc#rooster x female reader#bradley bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#rooster fanfic#rooster fluff#rooster imagine#top gun fanfiction#hannix#rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader
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The Way You Shake And Shiver
Summary:
Hangman gets the first air to air combat kill in three decades
He doesn't handle it well
Warning for suicidal thoughts, PTSD and a whole lot of angst
Jake Seresin is the toast of his squadron. He’s the toast of the whole damn carrier. Everywhere he goes people are slapping him on the back with congratulations and a promise of drinks as soon as they get back to shore.
He knows that soon he will be the toast of the whole Navy, once word spreads. All he ever wanted in life was to be the best, to be admired for his skill and his tenacity, to show his parents that he wasn't the kid to treat so poorly for all those years. He wanted to be the man people could be proud of, if only anyone cared enough about him to be.
He's the toast of the Navy now, yet he doesn’t feel proud. Instead he feels dead inside like the man whose life he ended.
The first air to air kill in three decades, the only active duty pilot with a confirmed kill, all these new prestigious titles to his name and Jake can't stop the nauseous feeling in his stomach every time someone brings it up.
His hands haven’t stopped shaking since it happened.
Jake has been accused of being reckless in the air many times but in reality he actually over-thinks. His entire flight is spent thinking of movements and reactions. He watches everyone and everything in the sky with him and he has an uncanny ability to interpret other pilots’ flying patterns and using it to supposition their next move.
It was how he knew exactly where the bogey was going to be.
It was also how he knew that his wingman was never going to get out of the way in time.
Jake takes the shot quickly the second he hears his wingman, call-sign Yankee, shout that the bogey has tone on him and the enemy’s first missile just misses. Hangman hits his trigger with no hesitation, before even his own brain can fully comprehend what he has just done. The next second there is a fiery wreck of an enemy jet sinking to the ground and his radio is bursting with chatter.
Jake still doesn’t know how he makes it back to the carrier without throwing up or crying.
Instead the blonde departs his plane to cheers and celebration. Dozens of bodies crowding him as they commemorate someone else dying. He is being embraced by men who have threatened to punch him in the face multiple times before when he was deemed too cocky. He is being showcased by the same squadron that has used his call-sign as a sneer against his character. His squadron leader takes his arm and throws it up in victory, when not twelve hours before that same hand had pushed him aside calling him a jackass and a wasted space.
How quickly things have changed.
Yankee comes forward, shouting something about Jake using him as bait but nobody is listening; they are too excited for something to applaud about. Jake knows that the other man is not going to let this go lightly. Yankee is a popular guy on the ship and a natural story-teller. That New York swagger is going to try to turn Jake’s achievement around and yet Hangman can’t help but be a little thankful, he doesn’t want recognition for something like this.
But for now Yankee is pushed to the sideline, Jake is front and center, and Captains and Admirals are lining up to shake the young blonde pilot’s hand.
When Admiral Fitzgerald, the highest ranking man on the ship comes forward, Jake can’t help the gulp of nerves he swallows down. “Congratulations son” the older man says as though he ended a war instead of ended a life. The Admiral moves in for his own handshake and Jake only manages a tiny nod as he feels the man’s eyes accessing him. “You made us proud today” and dear God he sounds it, Jake thinks as traitorous tears sprout. “Thank you Sir” he gets out before the Admiral leaves and Jake can escape the claustrophobia of the deck.
He’s thrown into debriefs where he watches his hands shake violently and his CO laughs about the adrenaline of the fight.
He gets checked out in medical where he watches his hands shake violently and the medics tells him that rest is his best medicine.
He heads back to his bunk where he watches his hands shake violently and he tries to sleep this day away, the day he became a murderer.
He watches his hands shake violently and he hopes in the morning everything will be better.
If only it was that simple.
Sleep doesn’t come to those that are wicked, and Jake is left wide awake with nightmares plaguing.
And still his hands shake.
The ship is days away from port and Jake doesn’t know if he will make it. He doesn’t know how he can make it. He can’t sleep without seeing the enemy’s jet go down, can’t walk the halls of the ship without one of his crewmates bringing it up to him. Yankee has embraced that Hangman is not going to be the villain in this story and now forces the blonde to answer detailed questions about the whole situation as if he knows how much his teammate is struggling. He asks what Jake was thinking as his missile launched, asks if he thinks about the rebel forces cursing his name as they bury their own, wonders aloud to him about the family wishing him dead. Yankee makes sure to bring up in front of everyone that Jake's hands always seem to be shaking, his face green most morning, and laughs with some of others about war not being for pussies.
Jake channels his entire Hangman persona and gives a quip about celebrating too hard. He laughs about the enemy's loss and says at least people are talking about him. He tells Yankee that jealousy looks good on the dark haired pilot before he retreats into his room and throws up another meal as he hates himself a little more for daring to make light of his actions.
Because Yankee is right, somewhere in the world a family has been informed their loved one is dead because of Jake. A family is broken in the worst possible way because of him. A squadron is missing a piece, a plane has never landed, a pilot has never come home, all because of Jake. Having such an impact on the world, causing this event that ripples out all around him, causes an existential crisis of mammoth proportion that seems to swallow Jake whole.
Jake’s father always told him that he would amount to nothing. He would leave no legacy, no mark on this Earth. Jake wishes his father had been right.
He doesn’t understand how the world continues, how the rest of the crew on the boat still talk and joke and go about their days. Jake feels like he is sinking in the middle of the ocean, working as hard as he can to make it to the surface only to see nothing but open water all around him. He’s lost out to sea, with only drowning to look forward to. He musters up enough strength to not draw attention to his daily struggles from the others though no one is really looking at him anyway. No one cares about Jake Seresin the person, all they care about is Hangman’s confirmed kill.
All except one person.
Jake met Natasha Trace back in flight school. She was tough and talented, two things that Jake admired. She also seemed to hate him with a passion, which only made him fall in love with her faster (he blames his messed up childhood for that). Being stationed on the same carrier together meant that Jake got to see her quite a bit. He wasn’t surprised to see she was similar to him in a lot of ways; a loner most of the time, perfectionism making more people turn away than turn towards them. If Jake was a better man he would have tried to have been the friend Phoenix needed; would have tried to win her over and become close, not that anyone could convince Natasha Trace of anything she didn’t want to do.
Unfortunately the only language Jake knows when it comes to Natasha is asshole and just like in school, most days the only words they exchange are insults and barbs. After his mission, he expected her to be the first one to shoot down the prestige that has been raining down on him from all the others, yet it seems the female pilot is avoiding him as much as she can now on their carrier. It actually takes three days after his confirmed kill for him to even see Natasha. She is in the galley throwing away the rest of her lunch when Jake walks in and their eyes meet. Suddenly Jake’s hunger is gone and he heads back out the door, pushing past other sailors who grumble about the inconvenience but let him pass.
He hears the first time she calls his name, his call-sign, formality laced in her tone, but Jake keeps walking. She hollers again, louder, more insistent, but Jake is a master at running away and he can see the corner of the hallway in sight.
“Jake” Natasha yells now, loud and annoyed and her typical attitude when it comes to the cocky blonde. He can’t pretend anymore, the crowd thinned enough that Jake has to have heard her. He turns around and offers her a smirk, “Phoenix” he drawls, as his accent tings on the last syllable.
She catches up to him quickly and the two square off. She watches him for a moment, scrutinizing like she always does with him. Her dark eyes narrow at his hooded eyes, “you look like shit,” her lack of manners is always refreshing to him except for today. He feels exposed. “Guess I went a little hard in the partying last night,” he excuses, “I don’t know if you’ve heard but I got the first active duty-“
“Oh I heard” Nat interrupts and Jake can’t find the words to describe how relieved he is to not have to say it to her. The woman in front of him takes a step closer, still accessing, still reading him better than anyone else on the whole damn ship. "I heard the day it happened" she explains further.
“No congratulations?” Jake pretends to be wounded, “I guess jealousy does that to a person.”
“I’m not jealous” she looks around them, notices that they are all alone in the hallway now, “I’m worried about you.” Her words dripped with a concern that punches him right in the gut.
It should be so easy to be nice in this situation. So easy for Jake to thank Natasha for being the closest thing he has to a friend in the Navy besides Javy Machado. So easy to tell her that she should be worried because he’s not handling this well, thank you very much. His lack of sleep, barely there appetite and constant perch of being on the cusp of a breakdown, proof of it. But he can't say all that, not to her, can't let her see the weakness that resides inside him. Instead the blonde gives another god awful smirk, “Worried that you finally have to admit I’m the superior pilot?” he goats, “I’m the best in a generation they are sayin'."
She ignores his bragging, looking down and seeing his hands, his fingers shaking. Nat’s own hands shoot forward, centimeters away from grabbing his before she stops, the invisible force of their lack of camaraderie working as a barrier. When she looks back at his face, hands still poised out from his, Jake’s breath hitches and he turns, running away like the coward he will always be.
That night, as he fails again to get any meaningful sleep, Jake shuffles his exhausted body up to the flight deck. Its pitch black out with only a skeleton crew on duty, seniority meaning that higher ranking officials are given the normal sleeping hours. Nobody even looks at him as he makes his way to the railing, his shaky hands finding purchase on the cold metallic bar.
He isn’t sure what draws him out here until he smells the salty air and a calm settles over him. Jake has spent the last few days trying to find his place in his new world but it seems that no matter how hard he tries he just can’t. He has taken a life, killed someone and his body will continue to rebel against him in every way it can until he pays his penance.
A life for a life.
The ocean around him is cold in April but nothing is colder to Jake than his own heart. He always thought he was strong for everything he had gone through growing up but now he knows the truth, Jake is weak. He is weak and he is broken, both unfixable. His only hope, his only respite, lies before him in the dark abyss of the waves.
He’s read of PTSD wreaking havoc on soldiers’ minds, the guilt of actions beyond their control crumbling their foundations until nothing is left standing. He never thought it would be him; but as he stands, prepared to meet his maker, Jake begins to understand his own diagnosis. He has spent days being praised for an action that will haunt him forever, celebrated for it even. His CO has informed him that at the end of the month he will receive a commendation for the kill, something to wear on his uniform as a stark reminder for the rest of his serving days.
Jake knows he will never be able to survive it.
He can’t survive now. Not when every day he wakes up with the weight of his actions pulling him under. The feeling of snuffing someone’s life choking him as he struggles to take a breath. The nightmare of someone’s last moments reappearing every time he dares to close his eyes. He knows that when they reach shore he will be forced to tell his actions again, to more Captains and Admirals and even other pilots. He knows that his entire career will now be defined by murder.
He can’t bear the thought of it.
It’s not an easy decision, Jake has overcome so much in his life that he thinks it is almost sad that this is what pushes him over the edge. But he is tired, so, so tired and the thought of finally finding some kind of peace and rest is enough to get him to make up his mind.
He closes his eyes and let’s his remaining senses take in this final moment. The smell of the ocean, the sounds of the waves, the tranquility at his fingertips, the end of his private war.
“Jake” a voice calls, and like a child caught out of place, Jake startles back from the railing guiltily, a blush on his cheeks in the chilly night air.
Turning, he sees Natasha walking forward; Navy issued pajamas hugging her body, her normal bun gone and her beautiful hair whipping around in the harsh wind, “Jake?” she speaks again taking another cautious step forward, as though she was moving towards a wounded animal and not a six foot grown man who has killed another.
He has killed, and yet here Phoenix comes, moving closer to him. For all her attitude and lack of charm towards him, Natasha still feels like a ray of light every time she is in his vicinity. Jake’s world feels a little less dark as he watches her come closer, his heart feels a little less dead.
He knows he doesn't deserve it.
“I think you’ve been out here long enough Jake” Natasha informs him knowingly, as though she has gathered his intention just by the few seconds she's been out here with him. Knowing Phoenix like he does, she probably has. “Time to take it back inside" she nods towards the doors.
There’s nothing in the world he would love more but he knows he can’t survive another night alone, another night of battling guilt and misery with no one on his side. He clears his throat, “I’m good,” he tells her, looking back at the water to keep himself on task. “I just need a few more minutes-“
A strong hand reaches over and pulls Jake back by his shirt. Suddenly he’s assaulted with the warm smell of vanilla as Phoenix comes between him and the railing. Her dark eyes watch him silently, seeing his broken soul as he tries to bite his lip to prevent a sob at the thought that someone has finally chosen to stand between him and danger. “It’s time to go back inside now Jake” she says again, more insistent, “you’re not finding what you need out here.”
“How do you know” he rasps, cursing the brokenness that has crept into his voice.
Her smile is sad but it still manages to warm something in his belly, “because” she tells him softly, taking a gentle hand to his chest, so close to his frozen heart, “I know the real you” she whispers, "and you don't want to do this."
He shakes his head and sniffles back a sob lodged in his throat. He can't allow her to see him like this, to see his flaws so perfectly on display, "I just need air."
Nat's face contorts, as though she feels the pain raging within him herself, and maybe she does, as she moves in closer, pushing her hand harder into his chest. "This isn't the answer" she informs, taking a moment to look behind her at the dark ocean, at Jake's plan to escape his own torment, before she turns back to him. "Whatever you think that will solve, it-" her voice breaks and Jake looks up to see her brown eyes glistening with unshed tears in the moonlight, "it won't."
"It's what I deserve."
A look of fury passes over Phoenix's face, but like a flash fire it's gone quickly. In its place she looks at Hangman with nothing but concern and care, "No it's not. You are not the monster you think you are" the woman shares with a hand rising to cup his cheek. It spurs the first feelings of calm that Hangman has felt in decades. Nat must pick up on it because she refuses to lower her hand, "I know you're struggling right now," she strokes his face gently, "I do, but I also know how strong you are-"
He leans into the touch with closed eyes, unable to stop himself when a sob ripples from his throat, “I’m not strong-“
“Yes you are” her voice is closer, and he can feel her slowly steer him back towards the ship’s doors with a hand around his back, her smaller frame making her arm barely come around his body, “you’re the strongest man I know Jake, and you’re going to get through this.”
He shakes his head, opening his green eyes to see the tears have finally fallen from her brown ones. He takes his own hand up and reaches to wipe the water away from her beautiful face. "Please don't cry for me" he begs, "I'm not worth it."
She puts her own hand on top of his, pins it against her face, “Yes you are. I can’t lose you Jake” she tells him unabashedly, “and I’m afraid I am.”
It's too much, her words and feelings too much, for someone as soiled as Jake 'Hangman' Seresin. Natasha doesn't deserve to be wasting tears on someone as evil as him. He clears his throat and confesses, the guilt too much, “I killed someone” he reminds her. He expects her to rip her hand away, to remember what he has done and show him the disdain he deserves.
Instead all he sees is more sadness from the woman in front of him.
“Yes” Natasha agrees, never one to lie or sugar coat, “you did. You did your job and something terrible happened-“
“They don’t think it’s terrible” Jake motions to the ship, “everyone is celebrating me.” He scoffs, “I’ll forever be known as the man with the air to air kill.”
She shakes her head at his words, disappointment clear though even his moroseness he knows it's not directed at him, “we both know you’re much more than that.”
“Then what am I?”
“A good man” she answers quickly, the words sharp as tacks. They pierce his heart and he feels like he’s bleeding out, but at least he’s feeling something again besides the guilt that has swallowed him whole. “Now come on” she offers a hand.
He looks at it for a moment before shaking his head, “I can’t-" he cuts off, the first snivel of emotions letting loose outloud, "I can’t sleep. I just keep thinking about w- what I did and how when I get back to shore, I'll-" he hesitates, not sure how to articulate his fears of being expected to go back to the real world and continue to live.
“Javy is already waiting” Natasha looks as though she can read his mind, “and I lined up someone to talk to."
"What?" Jake chokes wetly, the urge to see his best friend- his brother, squeezing his heart " You called Javy?"
"Of course. He's on leave so he's going to meet us both at the dock. You'll see him the minute we disembark" She gives Hangman a warm embrace, hugging tight, earning another thaw to his heart. “You’re not alone in this Jake” she promises not daunted at all by the loud sobs now rocking through the man’s body, “we’re going to help you through it. All of us. Together."
Natasha leads him back inside, the door closing behind them and the taunting of the waves outside finally leaving him. Jake is brought back to Natasha’s bunk where he is gathered into her smaller arms and wrapped with all the blankets the woman owns.
Jake feels the pulls of his exhaustion finally winning out and he closes his eyes. Just as he is about to sleep he feels a kiss on his temple. Natasha’s whisper of “sweet dreams” is the last thing he hears before he finally succumbs to his exhaustion.
And for the first time since he shot the plane down, Jake doesn't dream at all, just sleeps. In the morning he finds Natasha still next to him, her tiny body his protection from the cruelty of his own mind and memories.
Jake's hands are still.
Four years later and Jake heads back to Top Gun on a special deployment, his excitement to see Coyote the one thing keeping him grounded until he sees Natasha enter the bar. Immediately he brightens, heading over to cut her off, ignoring the two lackeys she’s managed to pick up.
It’s been awhile since he’s seen her, even longer since they got along. After Phoenix saved him on the carrier that day she kept her promise, getting him a therapist and combined with Coyote, getting him the help he needed to process his actions and continue to serve his nation like he was doing today. Once he was back in a good headspace, Jake decided to take one last gamble, decided to tell Natasha how he really felt, to confess his love for the woman and convince her to give him a chance to prove how good of a man he could be.
He drove all the way to Lemoore to meet her after a deployment, a bouquet of flowers in his hands as a welcome home, only to see her running and jumping into the arms of one Bradley Bradshaw. The two left in the mustached man's Bronco and Jake learned that while Natasha might have liked him enough to help him, she would never like him enough to love him.
His already fragile heartbroken again, Jake brought Hangman back with a vengeance. His cocky smirk became permanently attached as he berated other pilots especially Natasha when they were in the air. The woman always met his challenges with sarcasm and disappointed looks until finally she gave up, treating Hangman with the disparagement he knows he earned.
It doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t ache when she glides through the Hard Deck easily just like the planes she’s mastered.
“If it ain’t Phoenix” Jake drawls, his personality set to asshole, and his lines falling naturally from his mouth. He lugs his pool stick with him as he moves closer, “and here I thought we were special Coyote” he gripes. His best friend remains silent but observant, sidling up behind him as Phoenix stops right in front of Jake’s face with a smirk. “Turns out,” the blonde pilot plants himself on the pool table, “the invite went to anyone.”
Natasha’s face is just as assessing as it normally looks when she sees him and her eyes narrow when she knows their game is on. “Fellas” she addresses the men behind her, “this here’s Bagman-“
“Hangman” he corrects, still smiling, willing to take her banter if it keeps her eyes on him longer.
Her brown orbs roll, her annoyance obvious, “whatever” she murmurs, her head lulling up slightly. And then she goes for the jugular, “You’re looking at the only Naval Aviator on active duty with a confirmed air to air kill.” She says it with nonchalance but Jake knows she’s trying to wound him. Her words purposeful like everything she does or says. He would be lying if he said it didn't break something within him.
He can feel Javy's eyes on him but Jake plays his part, giving Phoenix a faux shy murmur of "stop" as though he welcomed her words when instead he wants to scream that he is so much more than the confirmed kill and she should know it.
She’s the one that convinced him after all.
“Mind you” and Jake’s eyes move back to Natasha’s lips as she hits him with another cheap shot, “the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War-“
“Cold war” Coyote jumps in, knowing that Jake won’t.
“Different War” Random lackey number one begins, “same century.”
“Not this one” Lackey number two finishes.
Coyote forces introductions but Jake’s no longer caring. His eyes still watching Natasha throughout the interaction. As the night progresses and the beers flow, Jake moves to talk to the woman but he is shot down as her attention jumps to a certain mustached man in an ugly Hawaiian shirt. Jake knows his night is over. He does his little dance with Rooster like normal, says nasty and asshole things to the others to cement his status as biggest dick on the team (and not in a good way), and then he’s sneaking out after throwing out some old timer for Penny as Rooster sings that damn song on the piano again.
As he leaves the bar he notices his hands shaking once more, the panic that he has worked so hard to quell, coming back with just a few words from the woman he loves and a reminder of the red on his ledger. He makes it back to his housing without incident, falling upon his bed and burying his face in the pillow as he tries to stifle his scream of anguish. Of all the people to bring up the kill, he never wanted it to be her. Natasha saw him that night, she saw him at his worst, and she saved his life from doing something he can’t ever bring up again.
She used his worst moment against him and though he knows he deserves it, it still stings that it was her that sunk that low with him.
She was always supposed to be better, and yet Jake ruined her like he ruins everything else.
A knock on his door startles him and Jake wishes it would be her. He wouldn’t even want an apology, just a chance to see in her eyes that she only threw out those words because he changed on her but she knows her Jake is still somewhere inside.
He can be that Jake for her.
“Dude you in there?” It’s not Natasha, but Javy, the only person left in Jake’s corner. "Hey man? You awake?" his best friends asks quietly. Jake can hear the way he is leaning up against the door and for once the blonde is thankful that he has had the foresight to lock his door. It isn't that he doesn’t want to see Javy, he just knows the man will want to try to help any way he can and Jake doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve anything good.
"Alright" Javy sighs, "I just wanted to check on you, you kinda split really quickly over there” he hesitates, clearly wanting to say more. Another hand hits his door, “I know what she said in there but you know she didn’t mean it. You guys just need to-“ Javy trails off for a moment, “it will work out” he offers instead and Jake can picture his best friend's worried frown, "Alright I guess you’re asleep already, long flight in taking its toll. If you need anything” he offers as parting words, “you know where to find me." He gives one more tap on the wood for good measure, "‘Night Jake."
Jake listens as Coyote’s footsteps head away leaving him all alone once more. He looks down at his hands, the hands that have killed; the hands that have destroyed countless people’s lives and he sees that they have begun to shake once more. The weight that took so long to free himself of is back as well, settling on his chest and drowning him with bad thoughts.
He wants to be mad at how far he has fallen back into his despair but his love for Natasha will always win out and he makes a promise to himself. He’s not sure what this mission is going to entail for them all but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s something serious; especially if they brought back all the best Top Gun has to offer. Jake steels himself, forces his mind to relax as he declares right then and there in his shitty temporary housing that no matter what is called upon for this team, he’s doing it. He is taking the spot; he is taking the shot, he is leading them all to be the best of the best, if only to protect the others and especially her from having to do what he had to. He will do anything to stop Natasha from dying inside like he has.
With his new resolve he looks back down at his lap.
His hands finally stop shaking.
#top gun maverick#glen powell#jake seresin#top gun hangman#top gun#top gun fanfiction#top gun movie#jake seresin fanfiction#monica barbaro#natasha phoenix trace#top gun phoenix#hannix#javy machado fic#javy coyote machado#greg tarzan davis
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Firebird
A Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace Origin Story
Slight Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace / Jake 'Hangman' Seresin
Description: Natasha Trace is used to being marveled and stared at. She's the only woman in her flight class. For the most part, the staring only leads to occasional requests to join the remainder of her cohort for drinks at the nearest bar to base. She always refuses. Her COs have enough to say about her without resorting to the usual criticisms of her gender, which going to a bar would garner.
But Natasha's only human. When she seeks out a bar to get drunk where nobody knows her name, she's surprised to find the one man she never wanted to see off base dropping into the seat next to her. The conversation that follows changes her life and gives her a callsign.
Warnings: Mysogyny, Discussions of Strength and Power as a woman in a male-dominated field
A/N: Hi everyone! Nice to see you here! I wrote this fic for @thedroneranger's Pick Your Poison Challenge to accompany her fabulous Phoenix Cocktail Moodboard Grit & Glam. I wanted to explore a headcanon of how Jake gave Phoenix her callsign and ended up venturing slightly into Hannix territory. I hope you all love it!
The italicized lyrics at the end are from the song Firebird by Galantis.
AO3: Cross-posted here!
Wattpad: Cross-posted here!
My Masterlist
“Oh, come on, Trace.” This, she’s used to. It’s what she gets when she’s the only woman in her flight school class. “It’s just a few drinks tonight!”
It’s the overly insistent, ridiculously charming blond man who’s asking her that Natasha’s not used to. Seresin, at least she thinks that’s his name, asks her to go out with the rest of the class every night despite her refusals.
“It’s not happening, Seresin.” She keeps her tone light and her eyes on the NATOPS she’s rifling through and making notes on. After all, there’s no denying that Seresin is easy on the eyes, with his green eyes and shining blond hair, broad shoulders, and muscular physique. Maybe in another life, she’d have fallen for the lines he feeds girls at the bar hook, line, and sinker. But in this life, she wants to be a Naval Aviator, wants to be the best of the best. No six-foot blond is going to stop her, not when she’s so close.
“C’mon, Trace. It’s just one night of drinks.” He sounds oddly frustrated at her lack of response. “You don’t have to be so frigid all the time, you know? What’s one round of drinks amongst friends and colleagues?”
“Well, Seresin,” Her voice is sardonic and a little sarcastic as she packs up her notebook and her NATOPS. “There’s nothing wrong with a round of drinks amongst friends and colleagues. But you’re neither of them. So I have to say no. Goodnight, Seresin.”
Her voice is just loud enough, cutting enough, that the others hear from the huddle they're in on the other side of the room. They're ooh-ing and aww-ing and ribbing Seresin with every iota of their limited intelligence as she sweeps out of the room. Of course, Natasha also hears the way one of the others, Williams or maybe Monroe, calls her an ice-hearted bitch, but that's nothing she hasn't heard before. Seresin is awfully quiet, and she's sure he would normally have joined in on their censure of her if she hadn't seen the small flicker of hurt that wafted through those crystalline green eyes as she swept out of the room.
She can't figure out why he's so adamant about her socializing, though. It’s not as if Natasha is a stranger to having fun. Once upon a time, when she was a young tomboy, she used to sneak out to bars and other unsavory establishments and party all night long. It had been fun roaming around wild in the hot, sticky San Diego summers, dangling out of an old Pontiac Firebird. She’d slept half-naked under the stars, smoked hand-rolled cigarettes, and drunk too much alcohol. Of course, joining the Navy had put a stop to that kind of reckless, foolish, youthful abandonment.
It still doesn’t explain Seresin’s behavior. He’s never once attempted to be cordial or nice or even kind for the entire time she’s known him. All Natasha knows is that Jake Seresin is filled with the same urge to be the best that she is. It’s a conundrum that she turns over in her mind late that night and in any spare moment in which her brain isn’t being crammed full of more flying techniques and NATOPS sections. The same conundrum seems to be captivating Seresin as well. Each day for their classes, he takes the seat behind or near hers and spends the time boring a hole into the back of her regulation slicked-back bun or into the side of her face. She spends the week with the heat of his gaze prickling across the back of her neck and distracting her thoroughly.
That’s the only reason why she fucks up on Friday afternoon. It’s supposed to be an easy maneuver. It’s one she’s had swimming in front of her eyes whether she’s awake or asleep. But she messed up. Others in her cohort messed up on the hop, too. But of course, it’s Natasha who’s standing at parade rest facing down their CO as he spits in her face all of the reasons why a woman isn’t talented or determined enough to fly a fighter jet. It’s the snickering Natasha can hear in the background from the others, which has her spine straightening. It shouldn’t be so common to be lambasted over every mistake just because of your gender. But there’s a reason why so few women in the armed forces are aviators. There’s a reason why Natasha has faced only one of these particular dressing-downs only once in her career prior to today. But nothing her CO is saying can even touch the dressing down she’s giving herself.
When she’s dismissed, she stomps her way into the ladies’ locker room and tries her best not to sob where anyone important can hear it. The deluge of hot water drums over her head and beats her stiff muscles into some form of flexibility, but it doesn’t beat the whiff of failure from her skin. She stands under the deluge until her fingers prune and the water cools. She’s shivering and shuddering as she towels off and pulls on her clothes. But the clothes she pulls out of her gym bag aren’t jeans and a T-shirt but a sundress. Natasha slams her forehead against the locker door because this is yet another symptom of her distraction. This was the dress she was supposed to wear to brunch with college friends in town. Not the outfit she wants to walk out of base wearing. At least she’s managed to pack the matching heels as well.
Unsurprisingly, Natasha hears wolf-whistles a-plenty as she clacks her way out to her car. The comments make her angrier and feel even worse. At one point in time, sometime between the beginning and end of that long, unfulfilling shower, she’d made up her mind to drive home and collapse onto her sofa and maybe drink an entire bottle of wine. But the more the pigs she has to fly with notice her uncharacteristic attire, the more her mind changes. Now, all she wants is alcohol, enough to drown out her thoughts and to lift her mood. It might be time to bring back the wild little thing who’d run circles around folks back in San Diego.
The bar she ends up at a couple of hours later is what people would pick for a night out on the town. In truth, Natasha had two major criteria for picking this place. It’s not within five miles of the base, and it serves an elderflower and gin flaming cocktail. Something about it feels fitting to her current state of mind.
The sky has darkened in the time between when Natasha sat down and now. Natasha’s not sure how long it’s been, but she feels a million times better than she did before. The bartender was very kind and plied her with round after round of Phoenix cocktails all afternoon long. It’s just her luck that she’s tilting a drink between her fingers, watching the pinkish-purple shimmering liquid dance in the light, when a body drops heavily onto the barstool next to her. It's a bar, so obviously, bodies have been dropping into the seat next to her as the night progresses. But this particular body is wearing a very recognizable cologne and speaking in a very recognizable tenor to the bartender.
“Can I get a whiskey on ice for myself and another one of those flaming things for the pretty lady next to me?”
“It’s not a flaming thing.” Natasha's words are slurring but still sharp as she rotates on the fiddly little base of the barstool and faces exactly who she thought she'd be facing - Jake Seresin. Her voice is gritty with the burn of over-proofed smooth liquor as she responds.
“It's a Phoenix cocktail. What are you doing here, anyway, Seresin? I didn't think fancy bars were your idea of fun.”
“Mmm, they’re usually not.” There isn’t a bite to his words tonight. “I like my bars to come with their own history, usually.”
He pushes the Phoenix cocktail he'd ordered over to her and watches, enraptured, as the bartender snuffs out the flames.
“You don’t seem the type, Trace, to get rip-roaring drunk in a bar all by your lonesome.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Natasha is ginger as she sips from the warm glass, careful not to scald her mouth on the flame-kissed surface.
“You did.” He purses his plush lips, rolling the whiskey from the sip he just took on his tongue with his eyes lidded in the lowlights of the bar. He looks like a man who has cultivated that expression solely for the purpose of making a lady weak at the knees, not that Natasha would ever call one of his usual types a lady. His pink tongue slips out of his mouth and swipes away a droplet of the amber-colored liquid. He leans forward, gently tucking a loose tendril of hair behind Natasha’s ear.
“When you told me you’d only have drinks with your friends and colleagues.” He leans in closer until all Natasha Trace can hear is Jake. All of a sudden he seems to surround her with his presence. She can smell the smokey whiskey on his breath, the rich scent of his cologne, and the gentle scent of soap crowding out the scents of the bar. And then there’s the heat of his skin, elusively, unbearably comforting against the bare skin of her shoulders.
It feels good being this close to somebody else. But Natasha can’t let Jake Seresin, of all people, know just how lonely it feels to never be able to let her guard down. He can’t know how much it will set her apart from the others in their cohort above and beyond the way her gender already does.
“I did.” Her voice comes out in a whisper so quiet Natasha’s not sure he can hear.
“Yet you’re out here drinking something purple and pink and ridiculously sweet, all while looking like there is something you’d desperately like to forget.” He settles back in his stool, a long leg hooked on the footrest of her stool as he peers knowingly at her. “Are you trying to forget the dressing down Smith gave you today?”
Natasha shrugs, alcohol making her limbs uncooperative. “Others made mistakes, too. Why were mine so severe that they deserved a public audience? Or if they were severe, surely someone else had made a mistake equally as severe and deserved the same treatment?”
She sips on her drink, trying to ignore how her eyes sting, and her throat is tight. “Of course,” she rasps after swallowing, “it’s not like the perfect Jake Seresin knows how to make a mistake.” Natasha realizes that she’s murmuring that fact like it’s a secret, leaning into his lushly scented space like she craves the nearness of his skin. Maybe she’s already drunk too many of these pretty little drinks for her sanity?
“I make mistakes, Natasha.” He’s just as close as she is to him; the two of them nearly braced against each other like they’d collapse, marionettes without strings, if they weren’t so close and if they couldn’t prop each other up.
“Who said you can call me Natasha?” Her words are as spicy as the sips of top-shelf liquor dripping down her throat, but her smile is as sweet as the syrup of a maraschino cherry. He chuckles, dimples on full display as he tugs her stool closer to compensate for her listing sway on her tri-legged perch.
“What made you start drinking these lovely Phoenix cocktails, hmm?”
Oh, the room seems to be swimming a bit more. Jake’s so close Natasha can see motes of amber in the mercurial stormy green of his eyes.
“How much do you know about phoenixes, Seresin?”
“No matter how much I know, I get the feeling you’re going to tell me anyway, Natasha.”
She snorts, swigging back the last bit of her drink, running the tip of her finger along the rim of her glass, mesmerized by the sparkling residue left behind on her skin.
“Phoenixes are mythical beasts found in Greek, Roman, and Egyptian mythology. Of course, you probably know how they set themselves on fire and are reborn from the flames. As a result of this imagery, they were associated with immortality.” Huddled in against the counter as they are, Natasha can’t say if there is anyone else even in the room.
“But they’re more than that to me.” Her inhale is shaky even as she sips from the cup of water, cold and crisp, which has suddenly appeared at her elbow. “It’s probably painful to be burned alive and then reborn as a chick. But it also takes a lot of strength.”
To her surprise, Jake is still listening, one long-fingered hand tapping at the water glass in her sweat-damp palms when she pauses, prompting her to drink sip after sip.
“I…” She swallows with a mouth as dry as the Sahara Desert. “I, well, I hope to somehow have that same strength. So when a day like today happens, I find a bar that serves Phoenixes, drink them all night until the sting of failure and my despair and my loneliness wash away.”
“Is it working tonight?”
Natasha hums as she drinks yet another sip from her never-ending, always full glass. “I’m not sure it ever really did.”
“For what it’s worth, we both know you weren’t making more mistakes than any of those other idiots we fly with.” His smile is special and soft, filling the cavity of her chest with a softly flickering warmth at odds with the sharp burn of the liquor. “You’re good at what you do, Natasha. You could fly circles around all of them. You fly circles around me, too.”
Natasha can’t believe what she’s hearing. There’s no way Jake Seresin is admitting that Natasha Trace can be better than he is. She stands without realizing, her legs about as sturdy as those of a newborn giraffe. All of the alcohol rushes to her head with a vengeance.
“Have you closed out your tab?” She nods, desperately trying to keep a hold of her swimming head and her roiling stomach. She staggers her way out of the bar, trying desperately to navigate to the Uber app without stumbling over her high heels or face-planting into another of the patrons. An arm wraps around her waist before she can even get to the doors.
“C’mon, Natasha.” Her feet are steadier due to his support. “I’ve got you, darling.”
The endearment, in an undertone colored by a Texan twang, sounds tenderly fond as it’s rasped into her ears. The air is cool outside the bar as she staggers to a stop against a truck in the parking lot. There’s a click as the doors unlock, and when Jake opens the door, the step is so high that when she lifts her leg up, she nearly falls into the gravel, so impaired is her sense of balance.
“I’ve gotcha, darling.” Those same big hands brace her under her knees and behind her shoulders as they heft her into the seat of the truck. Sitting in the cab, she’s even more surrounded by his scent. But he doesn’t close the door immediately. Instead, Jake Seresin unlaces each of her strappy heels and sets them in the footwell of her seat. His fingers, warm and calloused, massage firmly at her stiff, aching arches until she feels like putty in his hands.
“You’re pretty good at that, Seresin.” He smiles again, a devastatingly tender quirk of his lips that barely creates that dimple in his cheek she’s quickly coming to adore.
“I like working with my hands.” It seems like he’s downplaying the true reason. This humble side of Jake Seresin is something she’s never seen before, something she likes. She fists her hands in the collar of his soft pullover and tugs him up until his arms are braced on the seat on either side of her, and his face is inches from her own. Thinking back on it, Natasha’s not sure who made the first move. All she remembers is the taste of whiskey on his tongue as her fingers grasp at the soft curls against the back of his neck. His mouth feels divine, thin lips just the right level of wet and soft as they move against hers. There’s heat making her flush as his hands cup the back of her neck.
When Jake Seresin pulls away with a question in his eyes, Natasha’s almost sure she can guess the words about to leave his lips. It’s going to be some variation of ‘Would you like to come home with me’, no doubt. But instead, he presses more of those warm, tender kisses across her bare shoulders, throat, collarbones, and cheeks. When he presses a lingering kiss to her forehead, Natasha’s eyes flutter closed.
“Let me take you home, darling.”
Those words, in a hauntingly tender tone, stick in her mind all weekend long, even when she’s hungover and curled up under her sheets. It feels like something has changed between her and Jake Seresin, inexplicably and totally. Or maybe it’s the sense of confidence Jake Seresin has instilled in her. One night, a few drinks, and his presence are all she needs to boost her mood? It’s ridiculous. Walking into the classroom on Monday morning at 0700 hours sharp and seeing Seresin laughing with the others like nothing has happened feels almost like a slap to the face. He doesn’t look at her or speak to her. Natasha’s sure the Jake of that hazy dream-like Friday evening was only looking for one thing, which he didn’t get when he needed to babysit her drunk ass.
By the time she’s in her flight suit and kitted out with her helmet in hand, she's ready to smoke every man she has to fly with, especially one Jake Seresin. Sure enough, Natasha’s cold, calculated, and on her game that day. She doesn’t make a single mistake. Of course, Smith doesn’t so much as nod in her direction, but it’s enough to hear the men grumble as her flight is used as the exemplar for their hop. When they’re dismissed, nobody tells her goodbye. Monroe and Williams are still whining and moaning about her success and their subsequent dressing down from Smith. But Jake Seresin’s smiling at her, that crooked tender grin, and saying, “See you tomorrow, Phoenix!”
Under the stars awaken
To the sound of a firebird
I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.
Taglist:
@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @callsignspitfire @roosterforme @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @kmc1989 @chaoticassidy @shanimallina87
#star writes#top gun fanfic#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun imagine#natasha phoenix trace#phoenix#natasha trace#jake hangman seresin#hangman#jake seresin#natasha phoenix trace x jake hangman seresin#natasha trace x jake seresin#phoenix x hangman#jake hangman seresin x natasha phoenix trace#jake seresin x natasha trace#hangman x phoenix#hannix
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omg i am a firm believer that 1.) jake was born to be a girl dad and 2.) nat notices her tiny bump one day before showering and she calls him into the bathroom and she’s standing there all giddy and is like “do you notice something different about me” and he immediately starts crying when he notices the little bump 🥹🥹
Day 20 of Ode to Phoenix
Did I want to write the Hannix Football Rivalry AU requests in order? Yes. Did that happen? Apparently not. This one just jumped out of me, and I was in too deep to write anything else for today
Jake as a girl dad has me 😍🥰🥹 He definitely was
Omg, I am giggling kicking my feet at this thought about her baby bump discovery 💗
Summary: Hannix Football Rivalry AU. Natasha has a Baby on Board, and it's not Bob
Pairing: Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Warnings: Pregnancy symptoms, early pregnancy partner struggles, mention of oral sex but nothing explicit
A/N: To whoever requested, I hope you enjoy my love xx
Do You Notice Something Different?
Natasha stumbles into the bathroom and pushes her hair out of her face, grateful it’s finally Saturday. Despite listening to her family and friends talk about their pregnancies for several years, nothing prepared her for the level of exhaustion she’s felt these last few weeks. Jake has pretty much taken over everything in their life that isn’t her job. Including making an early morning run to the grocery store because she’s craving lemon, blueberry ricotta pancakes she once had at a restaurant in New York City.
She strips off her pajamas before emptying her bladder for the third time already this morning. While she pees, Natasha closes her eyes and drops her head into her hands. Outside of deployments, the last few weeks are the longest she and Jake have gone without having sex since they started hooking up. Whether she’s been too tired, too sick, or too sore, usually some combo thereof, he's taken it all in stride. He's even been understanding about her not wanting him to touch her, although she can tell that part has been the hardest on him. Until recently, she hadn't realized how important their physical connection is to him.
But it finally seems like she’s coming out the other side of the miserable first weeks with her appetite, for food and sex, starting to return. At least this morning she'd been able to think about giving Jake a blow job without triggering her gag reflex.
She flushes the toilet and leans forward over the sink to wash her hands. Tentatively, she ventures a look in the mirror. Her face is getting its color back, although the faint lines around her eyes and mouth have deepened. Her breasts, well, those are definitely different. They're fuller and heavier, stretching her bras to the brink of their adjustments. She'll have to buy new ones soon.
Her hands freeze as her gaze drifts down further. Is that a trick of the reflection? Hurriedly, Natasha straightens and looks down at her stomach. It's slight, but it's there. A little bump in her abdomen. She sucks in her stomach, but it keeps its shape.
She turns off the water and dries her hands, accidentally pulling the towel off the rack in her rush. She tosses it onto the counter and places her hands flat on her sides then slides them to meet in the middle of her stomach. They rise slightly before they stop over her belly button. Definitely a bump.
Hand over her mouth, Natasha looks in the mirror and turns to check her profile, to be sure. There it is. A small, round protrusion. The first sign of Jake's birthday baby.
"Jake!" she shouts. "Jake, come here!"
In her excitement, she doesn't realize that screaming for her husband while pregnant might send the wrong signal. "What is it!" There's a commotion in the kitchen and then the sound of Jake's footsteps pounding through the house. "Nat! Sweetheart, are you okay?" he yells. Oh shit, he's going to break his neck thinking she's hurt.
"Wait, I'm fine, but come here!" she calls back. It doesn't sound like he's slowed down. "I'm fine!"
He bursts into the bathroom with a look of panic on his face, hands still covered in flour from making her pancakes. But she's too excited to wait for him to calm down.
"Do you notice something different about me?" she asks giddily, holding her arms out at her sides.
For a long moment, Jake looks like he's still trying to process that he didn't find her in a heap on the floor. Then his eyes drift down her body, and she can't really blame him when they get stuck on her breasts. His face goes bright red, although there's an aroused gleam in his eye. He swallows but doesn't say anything.
She knows why he's silent and finds yet another reason to fall in love with him. Not that she'd dwelled on having a smaller chest much, because it's generally convenient as an aviator, but it was always something that made her self-conscious in bed. Since the night early in their relationship when she'd drunkenly apologized to him for it, Jake has always made sure she knows how much he adores her perfect little chest. Which isn't quite as little anymore.
She giggles and reassures him that he won't hurt her feelings for appreciating the change. "Okay, yes. You can enjoy those later." His face gets even redder. "Besides that, notice anything different?" She turns to the side as a hint.
He drags his gaze lower and the arousal blasts right out of his face. His jaw slackens, and his eyes are bright and already glistening when he looks back up at her. "Is that?" he checks but chokes up.
Natasha bites her lip, feeling tears prick at her own eyes in response to his. She cries at the sight of a dryer sheet on the floor these days so she's not going to be able to withstand him crying. She nods. He takes a step toward her then hesitates, and her heart clenches with guilt. The last time he'd touched her, trying to help while she threw up in a bag in their car, she'd pushed him away and yelled at him to leave her alone. After apologizing for lashing out, she'd miserably told him she needed space and watched as he hid his hurt while promising her he would do whatever she needed.
She reaches out and takes his hand to bring it to her stomach. His touch remains light and uncertain so she steps into it until his large palm lies flat across the bump of their baby. She closes her eyes, feeling the protective warmth and curve of his fingers, dry and slightly rough from the flour still on them. Relief washes over her when she realizes that she's missed his caresses, the tender way his thumb strokes across her skin, the firm pressure of his love expressed in a touch.
A warm drop hits her bare shoulder, and Natasha looks up to see Jake standing over her, tears running freely down the handsome planes of his face. A few get caught in the corners of his trembling smile. "Is that our baby, sweetheart?"
"Yeah," she says softly, her own vision blurry as she thumbs away the tears from his lips before standing on tiptoe to kiss him. "That's our baby, sweetheart."
As hungry as she is, Natasha doesn't want him to leave her yet. She leads him into the shower and settles her back into the curve of his solid chest. They stand under the water, his temple pressed to hers, arms circled around her and hands splayed over the little bulge of their baby.
"Jake?"
He squeezes her then starts to drop his hold, but she catches his arms. "No. I don't want you to let us go."
Jake kisses the curve of her ear. "I won't," he promises.
Tag List: @melodiousoblivionao3
Ode to Phoenix Masterlist
#i love your notes#talk to me#ode to phoenix#28 days of phoenix#hannix football rivalry#natasha phoenix trace#top gun phoenix#natasha phoenix trace fic#natasha trace fic#phoenix fic#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfic#tgm fanfic#tgm fanfiction#phoenix x hangman#hangman x phoenix#natasha phoenix trace x jake hangman seresin#natasha trace x jake seresin#jake hangman seresin x natasha phoenix trace#jake seresin x natasha trace#hannix family
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Ex in the flesh | Pre-Marvel Phase 1
Uncle-Nephew: Jason Underwood & Tony Stark
Ex-romantic pairing: Jason Underwood x Sophia Trace
Summary: There are some faces you don’t expect to run into, in the middle of the day and sometimes it’s a feels a odd memory loss in the water.
Timeline: Pre-Iron Man (2008)
Character mentioned: Godson Rei Stark, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Maria Stark, Peggy Carter, Maria Winter and etc.
Note: Jason’s alias here is Thomas Logan Mitchell
——
It was early one afternoon when it happened. Their home in Malibu staying high on the rise as the windows were open bringing in the cold September breeze. Tony was in his lab as always tinkering with his toys as Pepper was given the afternoon to do some stuff for herself.
She definitely deserved it.
The household was mess. Goodness gracious how did they like that happen? Well that answer was the little menace, aka Anakin Skywalker Jr, Rei Stark. He was only 6 years old. But he was a little cocky dramatic tornado of a child.
The boy had so much energy it bewildered anyone who walked by him. He acted like he owned the whole house, technically he did due to it being his property one day, but that’s not the point—he didn’t care to do much. Always sending a tiny glare and a real cheeky grin to whoever he sees unfit to be in his area. He can could sense either a person’s attitude and godly annoyance from a mile away.
Thankfully he had people who he actually liked in his life, so it easier to find a comfortable ground with the kid.
Jason was in the kitchen sipping a glass of water and trying to figure out what to make for lunch.
He was thinking fries and chicken nuggets would work for his godson. Until he realized they were out of animal chicken nuggets and Rei favored those one than the normal nuggets. He couldn’t blame him, he liked those one too.
“Bubba?” Jason called out, hoping he would take the normal ones today, “Come here for a second!”
The pitter patter of sandals can be heard, the brunette came to stop and yelled in return, “What?!”
“You want chicken nuggets for lunch?”
“Yes. With fries. Extra crispy fries!”
“Haha. I got good news and bad news for ya, bubba. We’re all out of the animal nuggets.”
“Noooo! I want the animals ones.”
“We don’t have them, bubba.”
“Please. Just go to the store, pops!”
“Rei. It’s late and it seems like Pepper forgot to buy them.”
“No it’s not. It’s early. Mommy says the store is not far away.”
“Fine. We will go the store.”
“WE?! I don’t want to go papa..”
“Yes, we. Now come on, I’ll let you get a toy from vending machine and—”
The second those words hit Rei’s ears he went racing to the front door to remove his sandals and change into his street clothes until he realized he needed some help with his jacket. His godfather rolled his eyes, fixing the kid’s jean jacket and tied his shoelaces correctly. He told JARVIS to let Tony know they’re heading out before he left with the boy.
————
He let Rei choose which color car they would ride in. Black one with the gold accent seemed to be his favorite. Jason rolled his eyes and nodded as he strapped him into his car seat. One the way to the store, they played some more. A mix of pop, hip hop and rock.
In resulted into a jamming session on they’re way there.
It had Jason smile seeing Rei enjoying himself. He tends to forget about the fact that he’s just a kid sometimes due to how smart he tends to be and cleverness he holds onto. He sometimes fights with Tony to share more time with his son and let him just be a kid, reminding how on he single-handedly help Maria raise his nephew more often than not.
And he’s glad he wins that argument. Because the more time Tony spends with Rei the better.
Rei Stark may be a little distant from other kids, wanting to play alone at times but when he’s in his element—which is building things and just be a creative kid in general—he shines like a diamond. It’s incredible to witness how his mind tinkers in ways, he doesn’t even understand.
Once they reached the store, it was a different type of thing.
The aisles were nicely decorated with eye catching items from cereal to pretzels. Along with the section of fruits was nearby the pastries.
He first let Rei explore. Let his sweet tooth get a look at the delicious offer and his favorite fruits. He got to pick out some to take home. It was good, he seemed like he was enjoying himself. He told his godson to stay close meanwhile he looked at the cereal options before they grabbed the animal chicken nuggets.
But Jason should’ve known better because the second he turned his face to reach for Captain Crunch cereal, Rei scurried off to other end of the aisle to find god knows what! His eyesight zipped through the hall looking for him until he heard it.
“You’re not the boss of me lady!”
Yup. There he was at the corner of the aisle holding up bag of tootsies rolls and sending a tiny glare to the women, who was trying to reason with him. It sounded like the women was asking where the heck his parents were. Jason slide down, placing a hand on the kid’s brown fluffy hair and racing his fingers crossed to calm him softly.
“Bubba, why did you leave me standing?” He asked, looking down at him.
“I saw one lady holding a bag of tootsies rolls and I wanted one.” Rei told him like it was obvious.
“You had to ask me first before going off into the store.”
“I wasn’t that far!”
“You left me hanging bud.”
Then the women spoke with a smile and light scoff, “Hanging, huh? Sounds about right. No offense but the kid was just messing around.”
“Look sweetie, thank you for standing here and wondering about his parents. I can it from here.” Jason replies, raising his head to finally registering the woman but stopped surely.
Both adults stood there quickly examining one another faces in the store lights. The bright warm lights brought up every the women’s face. From her deem eyes to makeup nice reaching her lips. Her bouncing pushed back curls were set in place by a low ponytail as she held close a worn out bomber jacket that hung over a burgundy shirt.
Out of the people he would’ve expected to see today. She wasn’t one of them. He would’ve loved to be caught up in the aisles by an old friend or that lovely short lived ex girlfriend from years ago.
But not her! Anyone but the blind date he agreed on going to get out of the house and stop the protests from the ladies in his life to actually have a social life. It was one date or something like that, in which he cut short rather quickly.
Nonetheless here stood that ex-something of his.
And honestly he sorta regretted it. He was a jerk and he knows it.
“Wow, didn’t expect to see you here today.” Said the brunette with a small smile, decided to stay civil.
“Yeah well, it was an emergency to stock up on food.” Jason replied with a nod, a tiny smile curled his face.
“I can see that, nothing to worry about. You look…good.”
“I am good, Trace. Real good.”
Rei watched both adults thinking, he recognized her voice from a phone call and spoke up, “Wait who are you? You uh sound familiar.”
“I’m Sophia. An..old friend of your pal here—” He replied with a smile looking down at the kid, finding calmer down.
“He’s not my pal. He’s my pops, lady.”
“Pops?”
“Duhhh!”
Sophie paused trying to register what she heard thinking, ‘Mitchell has a kid?! He moved on fast!’ and sighed. The boy looked nothing like him, but the glint of wanting to be somewhere else like at home and not in public, was absolutely similar to the man. Other than that, he looked more like he possibly resembled the mother than him.
Strong enough genes.
“He’s your pops? Wow Mitchell, uh congrats.” Sophie said with a smile, feeling a little bitter wishing it wasn’t his son.
“Relax, Trace!” Jason repiled noticing the story on her face as he picked up Rei deciding to fix his glasses and teased, “I’m not with the mother. So you still have another shot with this.”
“You’re hilarious. That train left the station. It’s fine, you look content and that’s actually kinda cute.”
“What? Life a little miserable once I left?”
“If I’m correct, you didn’t exactly return my calls. And no, it’s not miserable. I’m better off without looking for a someone else.”
“Aww, you’ve got a lot better things to do than worry about me, i bet..”
“Yeah, but you wouldn’t be so bad either.”
The way Jason and Sophie smiled at that last comment, a hint of blush carried onto both cheeks.
Rei joked in his signature tone, “Aw, a compliment and a smile. Can we go please?”
“Yeah, Bubba. You wanna go grab the cart for me?” He asked, with a little smile only for him.
The boy simply nodded as he was put down, scurrying away toward the shopping cart not without sending another glare to the women. Once both of them were sure the kid was gone, they dropped the awkward moments to send a gentle glares deeply to one another.
Almost concerned glares if you asked anyone who can sense the unfinished tension between them.
“Where the heck have you been?” Sophie asked, leaning in with light smirk attached to her glare.
“Oh please. Last time I check sweetheart, you’re didn’t even come straight to me for answers.” Jason added with a match look.
“Really? That’s your play? You’re the one leaves behind a trail off unwanted promises for a date! I called, I texted and asked around. Nothing.”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe we weren’t even able to get anywhere, with our whatever we had? You were way out of my league in the first place and sat high on your little cloud that you needed to be brought down a peg.”
“Ohhh funny you say that, cause you needed a little push to realized your not the most interesting man in the room or did you forget that? Our first date, you decided to take it as a favor for a friend but afterwards you liked it! You liked it a lot!”
“I did not! I was being nice, a gentleman with you because you seemed pretty alright in my books.”
“Pretty alright?”
“Yeah you’re half bad.”
“So you liked it?”
“I would say I didn’t hate it.”
Both grinned at that last comment, as a smirked laced their faces. They found each other rather attractive after everything.
The real reason, Jason didn’t follow up on that date was because he felt stupid, insecure and didn’t want to let himself be heartbroken again after so many times. He was just defending himself with an act.
That he cut it off too early but he also knew it wasn’t gonna last in the first place.
He was a complete idiot, a jerk and terrified of starting something new. Especially with the life he lives and the things he had done, he feels like he doesn’t deserve it. None of it.
It was a gut wrenching guilt he carried that made him feel that way, like it’s better to be alone sometimes.
Most importantly he didn’t want to bring anyone into this life either. But he should’ve gone about it a different way than he did, he regretted how he ended it. He wants a second chance.
A small push.

“You left sorta me hanging around for a bit afterward. It actually bothered me.” She admitted with a sigh, dropping the act.
He sighed and nodded, “And you left me questioning, you know that? Uh look, I’m not good at this..”
“Yeah well me either, I got busy. Real busy with my classes and students.”
“I can tell. The eye bags underneath your eyes. You should rest, I mean it.”
“I know I should rest..and I’m sorry too for not taking the initiative to come to you for answers…I wasn’t exactly ready for it..”
“Look, it was something I wasn’t ready for either..I was busy too. I’m sorry, I was complete jerk and I apologize for my inconvenience..and just my attitude towards this point..”
“But you did it. We both did.”
“Yeah I know, I don’t know why we did it but we did it. By all accounts, I think I owe you a second date..”
“Oh definitely you do haha! Yeah and it was—”
Both were cut off by Rei’s racing toward them almost slammed the wheels of the shopping cart against Sophie’s shopping cart. He did it on purpose, Jason was sure of it and he sigh, kinda not proud of him for that.
Yeah, Rei was trying to save him from having this conversation to try and explain himself to Sophie. He’s always thankful for the saves from the kid, but he wished his godson didn’t save him this time.
However he was definitely getting dino nuggets today for at least coming with him to the store.
Rei yanked his godfather’s arm, dragging him down the aisle as Jason shrugged sending ‘I apologize for him’ look to Sophie. She just shook his head chuckling and walked away. They pair turned around waving at each other as they separated into different aisles.
The rest of the trip went somewhat smoothly getting everything they needed from the store and more. The ride home however was quiet, with the radio station blasting music and the bit of traffic up ahead. It was mostly small talk made in the car anyways.
Until Rei said something that confused the blonde.
“She was pretty.” Said the boy, playing with his action figure that he left behind earlier.
“Who was?” Jason responded, looking at the rear view mirror.
“The lady. She was pretty.”
“The same lady you were being a little rude too? Which wasn’t nice by the way, I should’ve corrected you on that.”
“I’m sorry..I will be nicer. But yeah that lady! I was just testing if she can handle us.”
“Wait what? You were testing if she could tolerate your rudeness? Rei.” 
“Sorry! And yeah, she passed. Did you dump her? Who set you up?”
———
Jason chuckled at his questions like he was being interrogated by the kid. To be honest, he knew he would ask him eventually. He was a smart kid and he could tell something was up even if he admitted it or not.
He sighed and answered him, “First, it was your mother who set us up. I did it was a favor when you little, she wanted me to head out of the house and have a night off to myself. It was a blind date.”
“Ohhhhh! It was mommy?! Wow what did you do, that she set her up with you?! She is way too pretty!” Rei exclaimed with a surprised look.
“Ouch!” Jason joked, “If you like her so much why don’t you date her?”
“Nahhh!” Rei replies giving him a grossed out, goofy smile.
“But to answer your second question, yes. I did dump her. I should’ve been nicer when I did.”
“Daddy says that’s kinda a dick move, JJ! You dumping her is mean.”
“Rei watch your language! Don’t say that word again, alright?”
“…okay. Sorry I won’t say it again, but that was kinda mean though! Mommy wanted you to date her! Why stop?”
“Bubba, you don’t get it. You’re too young.”
“Tell me! Please!”
He sighed knowing he always tries to tell him everything depending on what it is. Even if it meant dating. Rei was wondering and it was something innocent that every kid wants to know. They want to be part of conversation, even if they don’t understand it all.
Jason took a deep breath and told him, “Alright, alright I will tell you. Your uncle JJ is a dummy, okay? A bit dummy for not going along for more dates. She was nice, but I thought she was out of my league and way too good for me. I was thinking I wasn’t good enough.”
“And? So what? You were scared?” Rei asked like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but his tone had confusion.
“Yeah I was scared, and it’s a normal feeling to be scared. I lived and loved a lot of people, buddy. I didn’t know if I could go try it out again.”
“I think you should try it out. She got good taste in food, I saw she got Oreo cookies in her shopping cart and gummies too!”
He chuckled, “You only care about food, do you?”
“Yup! Food is always welcome in my mind.” Added the boy with a shrug.
——
Jason then asked something that was more of a honest question for his godson. Something that added to why he refused to date. His life and family he created. It was a hard way to put into words what he meant but he still tried.
So he asked, “Do you think she would be good enough to be with us for a while? Good for us, i guess? You know, handle our lives?…My life? I don’t want to bring her into this crazy world of ours..”
Rei thought for a second, he snorted at his way of wording everything and how he tried to water down what he meant.
His godfather watched him for a moment before he made a turn into another lane. Rei had a cute little thinking face where his nose would wrinkle a little like his father, Tony, but his eyes would narrow down like his mother, Maria. It was something Pepper and Peggy pointed out recently every-time they saw him think of something.
“I think she’s okay, for now. She is pretty, looks smart I think and uh, she is friends with mommy.” Rei said with a shrugged, trying to piece together his thoughts.
“Plus she got some attitude like you..” Jason added with a smile.
“I do not have attitude!”
“Yes you do, bubba.”
“Whatever.”
“Okay bubba. Whatever you say, you want to watch a movie when we get home?”
His eyes light up hearing that, “Yes please! And give me your phone, please.”
“Haha—wait why?” Jason asked with a chuckle.
“I’mma call her for you! ‘Cause you are always busy and said you are dummy.”
“Rei, you are not calling Sophie.”
“Someone gotta do it duh! You say it is okay to be scared but we gotta be brave sometimes, right JJ?”
“Don’t use my logic and words against me, child!”
The boy laughed knowing he won today as the phone was tossed over to him with the contact open to the girl in question. There was a mutual conversation between the two, because it was true.
Sometimes you need a little push to do something, even if it doesn’t always turn out well. If you ain’t gonna do it for yourself, sometimes will always do it for you. It’s something the blonde used to preach a lot, even though it wasn’t advice he didn’t always take for himself.
It was the sad part about advice but it was the truth. Sometimes you don’t take your own words too heart.
———
Moments like this, he knew Rei was the one of the coolest and smartest kids in the world. But he wouldn’t exactly tell him all that too often because according to Peggy, they’re godson’s ego would grow two sizes too big if they did.
But they love the Stark boys nonetheless.
As he left to enter the road leading to the house, he could hear Rei’s voice talking with Sophie on the phone. He could’ve sworn he heard a chuckle or two escape his mouth as his tone tried to remain calm. There were moments he heard Rei give a snarky or rude comment and joke about something in his signature tone of voice.
It was a little out of character for the kid since he didn’t like anyone very often, always giving a rude attitude towards the person that crossed his path and always liked to stay in his zone. Be a homebody and be around people he already knew instead of meeting new people.
Jason blamed himself for that, it was like Rei inherited that part of him.
But this side of Rei, where if determined he will find the confidence within himself and talk to the person, make conversation with them if it meant he got something in return.
That was something he inherited from his mother and grandmother. Maria Winter and Maria Stark.
Because Rei knew if he got his godfather a date with this girl, come Christmas time, he will get extra presents from both adults. Plus he might have another person who makes his Pops somewhat happy for a little while.
He may not always show it, but he very much appreciated Jason and grateful for having him in his life. The least he can do see him enjoy himself every once in a while with someone else, but not too much because at the end of the day that was his pops. No one else’s.
~~~
The rest of the car ride was pretty nice. Music blasting from the radio, the sun shining through the clouds and the small noise the came from the car after Rei finished his small chat with Sophie. According to him, he liked the girl and Jason chuckled at his nod of approval.
The duo were just chatting, even after parking in front of Mansion and walked inside with grocery bags, they kept discussing topics. More like Rei kept rambling on about the movie he wanted to watch, what he wanted for dinner and the idea he had for the garage. Jason just chuckled nodding and responding announcing to Jarvis they’re back home.
As Jason was putting away the groceries and getting started on lunch time, Tony walked in ruffing Rei’s hair. Tony turned to face the two and raise an eyebrow as he asked, “Okay your a good mood. Spill.”
Rei rolled his eyes and shrugged, “Nothing, dad. Relax.”
“Yeah bubba, we just went out to go some shopping. You hungry?” Jason added with a smile.
Tony nodded replies that he’s starving, sitting down next to his son. Jason told them lunch would be started soon, he just needed to change his clothes into something more comfortable, walking out of the kitchen.
Rei smiled leaning back waiting for him be out of hallway and upstairs as Tony grinned taking out the chicken nuggets and fries from the freezer with ease. Once Tony made sure his uncle out gone, he whipped his head towards Rei and asked, “Okay kid, what do you know?”
“I ain’t telling.” Rei replied with a matching grin waiting for his end of the bribe.
His father sighed, “Alright, two weeks at Disneyland park next month.”
“And?” His son added with a tune waiting for more.
“Ice cream after dinner while Pepper is asleep.”
“Much better!”
“Now spill, squirt.”
“JJ saw his ex girlfriend at the store.”
“He did?! And what happened?”
“They talked and whatever. She’s pretty much a nice girl.”
“You met her?”
“We talked for like less than 20 minutes. She is one mom’s old friends.”
Tony thought for a moment trying to remember of ex girlfriend’s Winter friends as his eyes shined, “You mean the one that looked like Disney princess with some attitude that came that last year’s New Years Eve party? Always wears a ponytail and a cute burgundy shirt?” 
“Yeahhh? That one. How did you know? Don’t tell me you dated her? Gross!” Rei asked millions of questions with a weird face.
“No of course not! Not my type, I remember her cause she brought us ticket to the Mets game last year. I think your mom and her always get their nails somewhere close by when you were a little.”
“Ohhh! Oh—that was her?! ‘Baseball girl’ you called you?”
“Yup kiddo, that’s the one. I didn’t know JJ liked her.”
“I guess so! He was a chicken and dumped her, I had to call her and see what she is like.”
“You set your godfather up on a date? You’re definitely my kid!”
That was when Jason walked back in the kitchen wearing sweatpants and his favorite t-shirt noticing how they sorta got quiet when he walked inside. Seeing them getting along very well and grinning towards one another.
It was a nice surprise to see them acting like silly gooses but it was odd even the faces they were making.
He gave them a confused look waving his hand in the air and asked, “What you guys talking about?”
Both of them looked at one another then back at them as they replied, “Nothing!”
~—~~—~~
Thank you so much for reading! Tell me, did you like it?
Please like, comment, reblog and share for more to see this fic
Tags: @gcthvile @meiramel @msrochelleromanofffelton @starkleila @gaminggirlsstuff @whitewiccan @hanlueluver @sherloquestea @mandylove1000 @hardballoonlove @topgun-imagines @thisgirlisonfayeeer @rooster-84 @yetanotherwells and etc
#marvel x oc#glen powell#dylan o'brien#hangman au#marvel au#natasha phoenix trace#phoenix au#monica barbaro#hannix#oc fanfiction#aos au#iron man#hangman blurb#tony stark#marvel fanfic series#fyeahmarvelocs#agent carter oc#agents of shield oc#mcu ocs#gal gadot#pepper potts#maria stark#iron man fanfiction#marvel fanfic writer#hangman x phoenix#hangman x oc#marvel oc
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right my darlings, im getting to the point where i need a kick up the ass to make any headway on getting my writing discipline back. since i keep flitting between three ideas and not progressing any, please tell me what i should write to break my funk. the pressure will mould me.
i am in no way shape or form gauging interest because these will all eventually get written, i just need some goddamn accountability to kickstart the engine again after [redacted] months off.
#normally i hate hate hate the idea of these kind of polls but honestly im going around in circles#and sometimes what i need is for someone else to set my direction#love and kisses to anyone who responds#or reblogs that would also help#also ik ik this is all tgm#watch me break free of my bonds with my ac pacrim AU absolutely no one asked for#reiverwrites#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#top gun fic#polls#cant believe my first poll on tumblr is this nonsense and not like rating the colour of cats noses#bobnix#sereschace#hannix#mavdad#no tagging of the mututals this is cringe enough as it is
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I See You - Chapter 1
Pairing: Hangman x Phoenix
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: enemies to lovers (not yet tho), slow burn, slight swearing, for sure some military inaccuracies, third person POV
Summary: Phoenix hates Hangman's guts. But she cares about her friends more, and Hangman is making her best friend miserable. About a month ago, Hangman started picking on Bob again. No one knows why he started his jeering up again, but Phoenix is willing to pay anything to make it stop. But what happens when that price is a date? And what happens when it turns out that Jake Seresin actually isn't the worst company?
A/N: I had the idea for this fic after I saw a fanfic quote prompt somewhere: "I brought you a juice." (I can't find the user it was from, but if you do please let me know so I can credit them!) From there I wrote a cute little Hangman x reader incorrect Top Gun quote post, but I realized it was such a Hangman x Phoenix interaction so Jabber and I collaborated over some ideas and this baby was born!
This story is written fully in 3rd person, so omnipotent narrator who reads the other characters minds occasionally, but it takes place mostly from Phoenix’s POV.
Also I may have completely made up correction sensors, but they’re based off whatever targeting system that malfunctions during the “mission” in the movie. They never get mentioned again, please leave them alone. They are sensitive and valid.
Chapter Song(s): Mean, NO, CHOKE
****
"That’s a kill!" Bob’s excited voice came crackling through the radio in the Daggers’ break room.
The room erupted with cheers. No one had been able to down Hangman in this week’s exercises on targeting without the correction sensors so far, but Bob’s quick thinking and steady hand had finally done it. Hangman’s gloating would be replaced by cheers of Bob’s name that day in the lockers. A welcome reprieve.
Back in the air, Phoenix was pumping her fists in the air and flipping off an unknowing Hangman. "Suck it, Bagman! We got your butt good!" the aviator called through the radio. "That’s how we do it over here with the smoothest duo in the Daggers! Great job, Bob! MVP of the exercise for sure.”
The shy backseater blushed lightly beneath his oxygen mask. He still got flustered over the smallest compliments, no matter how many times his supportive squad mates clapped him on the back or clasped his shoulders singing his praises. He stumbled over his words as he squinted against the sun in his eyes, making getting the words out even harder, "I, uh, you—you basically lined up the shot for me, Phoenix, I just pressed the button."
"Nah, that was all you, Bob. Don’t sell yourself short." Phoenix insisted proudly.
"No, please do sell yourself short, Baby," Hangman interjected with a laugh, the cockiness and resentment were practically dripping from his voice, even through the radio.
"Please go screw yourself, Bagman," Phoenix spat back. "Ignore him, Bob, you did amazing."
"It’s okay, Phoenix; he’s just joking." Bob said, always trying to keep the peace, especially between Phoenix and Hangman. Bob was getting pretty good at standing up for himself, but the two of them always seemed to be at each other’s throats and Bob found that he was usually, unintentionally, the reason.
"I wasn’t, actually," Hangman quipped again.
Phoenix’s blood was about to boil; if it wasn’t likely to get both her and Bob a court martial, she’d dive on the cocky blond's plane just to give him a good scare. Instead, she settled for some "playful" verbal abuse.
"Bagman, everything everyone says behind your back is true."
"Was that meant to hurt my feelings, Phoenix?"
"I swear the only reason they let you fly solo is because your WSO would purposely sabotage you both just to get some damn peace."
"Oh, really? That the best you got?" Hangman taunted.
The breezy jovial feeling that had filled the air of the jet just moments before had gone stale, and instead a thick layer of smog-like anger had fallen over the aircraft cockpit. The temperature within had surely gone up by at least a few degrees with all the red hot words flying from Phoenix's mouth into her mic.
Bob's cheeks glowed to a flaming red as he listened to the two pilots bickering, entire body tense, helpless to remove himself from the mid-air argument, just waiting for the right moment to interject. He’d been in this situation many times before—he knew the drill. But that didn't make him any less uncomfortable. "Okay, c’mon, guys—" he began timidly, yet a level of assertion still came through in his voice.
"Great work, aviators!" Mav’s voice came like a shock over the radio, squashing the argument before it could manage to turn physical. No student had died on Mav's watch so far, and he wasn't looking to change that any time soon. Especially because 'purposeful collision due to mid-flight training disagreement' would not go over well on an accident report. "Let’s get these birds back on the ground. It’s quitin' time!"
--
Steam filled the empty locker room. Phoenix breathed deeply as she stepped out of the shower. She always felt like she had gained a new life after her shower at the end of each day; the amount of sweat produced under those flight suits was ungodly. She also liked to imagine that the boiling water was washing away all the boys’ BS that she had gone through that day. She loved, almost, all of them—though she’d never tell them that—but being the only girl on a team of men, Navy men, was rough. She was sure at least two of them truly were raised in a barn, and she knew Bob and Rooster were the only ones who even knew what the word "filter" meant.
She thought on her boys fondly, unable to hold back her smile, as she toweled off her hair behind the emotional privacy of the her locker door. She'd never dare show this side to them. This was still the military, after all, and she was still a woman. No matter how many times she proved herself tougher than the men around her, her and soft emotions were not allowed to coexist without ridicule. Wiping the condensation off of the mirror, she looked at her own face in the tinny glass, it had been hardened over her time in the Navy, and it reminded her of the look of rage on Hangman’s as they clambered back into the hanger. She laughed lightly. That was without a doubt the best thing she’d seen in weeks. She wished she could’ve had it photographed so she could look at it when she was having a bad day.
She didn’t truly hate the cocky pilot, but she had been nearing the line between it and mere distaste with his recent antics. After their first mission together, it had seemed like all grudges between any of the Daggers had been squashed; Hangman and Bob had been fully civil up until a couple weeks ago when Hangman decided to make the younger pilot his verbal target practice. Everyone had noticed the shift, but no one could tell exactly what triggered it. Bob had finally started to stand up for himself in the past couple days, which Phoenix was thankful for because any time anyone else said anything to Hangman, the treatment just got worse. It needed to end, and soon. Phoenix was ready to string Hangman up, but she knew acting out would only risk getting both her and Bob disciplined. She didn’t know what she was going to do. But she was sure as hell going to do something.
She finished getting ready to head home and slung her backpack over her shoulder. She tossed her hair into a loose bun as she walked out of the lockers, preparing to face the scorching heat already constantly present even this early into the California summer. Fanboy intercepted her in the hall outside the locker rooms. His face immediately told her that whatever he was about to say wasn’t another corny joke about his favorite tv series.
"There’s something you should know," he said.
--
"BAGMAN!"
Lt. Jake "Hangman" Seresin might not have finished at the very top of his classes, but he was smart enough to know that that yell could only mean one thing: he was about to get the chew out of a lifetime from one Lt. Natasha "Phoenix" Trace. He pulled his signature toothpick out of his mouth before turning on his heel to see the livid brunette storming down the hall, fire ablaze in her eyes.
If anyone else had been in the vicinity, they would've sworn they felt the temperature shift.
"What the hell, Hangman?" Phoenix barked, shoving a hand roughly into his chest, and sending the unprepared man stumbling back a couple steps with an unsophisticated mix between a "WOAH!" and "HEY!"
"What do you mean ‘what the hell'?" Hangman shot back, gathering himself and stepping forward, squaring his broad shoulders towards her. "You can't just attack a man without telling him what he did to provoke it."
Phoenix's face was now inches from his. Hangman could feel the rage on the heat of her breath.
"Watch me," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "Don't even start that crap with me. You know full well what you did."
"Humor me." Hangman said with the same tone he would have used in a casual conversation with a friend, which this situation very much was not.
There was finger in his face. He pretended there wasn't, looking past it directly into Phoenix's face.
"I am so fed up with your immature little grudge against, Bob."
"I didn't know I ever had one."
Hangman's tone was aloof, and it drove Phoenix crazy. How could he be such a prick? All she wanted to do was punch him in the jaw. She didn’t know why she always felt like she was about to explode with Hangman, no one else made it so difficult for her to keep her emotions in check, but she held it together—this time. She wasn't going to make herself any promises for the future.
"You two were supposed to be cool after the mission, I thought you had agreed to lay off him! I don't know who you think you are, but Bob is just as, if not more, qualified as any of us to be here. And you know it! But your fragile little ego just can't take that he's smarter than you, can it?" She practically spat the last words, ensuring they hit Hangman square in the face.
Phoenix saw his eyes soften for just a second and knew that she'd hit a nerve, but his expression didn’t change. He just continued to look at her with that same stupid, smug expression he always wore.
"And I have laid off him. He's not my concern any longer." He shrugged, popped the toothpick he'd been holding back into his mouth, and started to turn away. Phoenix forcefully grabbed his arm.
Her grip was stronger than Hangman assumed it would be.
"Really? 'Cause that's not what it looked like to Fanboy when he saw you corner him in the lockers after that last flying exercise. He said you looked ready to throttle Bob before he stepped in. That's low, even for you. We got you fair and square in that exercise. If you don't want to lose, try not making stupid mistakes. And one more thing," Phoenix said, leaning into Hangman's face, fists clenched so tightly at her sides they were pure red. "If you ever try taking your sore loss out on Bob again, we will be having a very different conversation that will not be much of a conversation at all."
"Is that a threat, Trace?" Hangman said coolly, a smirk on his face.
"It's a promise," Phoenix snapped, pushing past him forcefully, her shoulder smacking into his.
Hangman dropped his head and laughed, his tongue twirling the toothpick in his mouth. Head still lowered, he called after the receding footsteps, "Wow, I didn't know you had a heart, but since you clearly care so much about him, I'll leave Bob alone."
The footsteps stopped. Hangman turned to face them, shaking his head lightly.
"But it's gonna cost you."
Phoenix cocked one eyebrow in an ‘I knew this was coming' fashion.
"Really?" She said, crossing her arms over her chest, taking a step closer.
"Really." Hangman shot back joyfully, also taking a step closer. He was clearly enjoying this.
"Fine. I'll bite. What's your price?"
"Go on a date with me."
Phoenix scoffed, staring at him agape as if she hadn't heard him correctly or refused to believe he'd actually said what she thought he said.
"That's the worst joke you've ever made, Bagman, and you've made a lot of bad jokes." She scoffed again as she turned and continued toward the exit.
"Maybe because it wasn't a joke." There wasn't a drop of sarcasm in his voice.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," said Phoenix, turning back to him again.
"You want me to leave Bob alone? That's my price. One date, and we'll never have this issue again. I promise." He held up three fingers in a "scouts honor" kind of way.
"You’re insufferable, Bagman," Phoenix said. With that, she turned and walked down the hallway, silently fuming.
#top gun#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#natasha phoenix trace#hangman x phoenix#fanfic#robert bob floyd#phoenix x hangman#hannix#hangnix#seresin x trace#top gun fanfiction#fanfiction#i see you
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Main Masterlist
Requests are open! Keep 'em coming 😏❤
SMUT * || Angst ~ || Fluff ♡
One Shots // Headcanons // Requests
The Wedding Bet Date ♡~
(Enemies to Lovers || Hangman x Phoenix)
When Natasha "Phoenix" Trace made a stupid bet, she did not expect Jake "Hangman" Sersin to be thrown at her face out of nowhere. Now they are stuck together, forced to confront a past they are trying to forget.
Series
Story Sneak Peeks
#jake seresin x female!reader#jake seresin fanfic#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin imagine#top gun: maverick#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#top gun#top gun fic#lieutenant jake hangman seresin#hangman x female!reader#hangman x reader#hangman top gun#hannix fanfiction#hannix#jake hangman seresin x natasha phoenix trace
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WIP Game...
RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
@mrsmungus tagged me, but I'm not sure she knew what she was asking for. I have lots of unfinished stuff. Lots. And all my stories are categorized in their own folder, so often the fic title isn't in the file name or it's the abbreviation and the chapter/scene. But here they are!
WFG_11
NYN_Scene 2
to be wanted (by you)
Fresh Draft CMH
LIG_2 Sensitivity
Football Dilemma
Separation Anxiety
The Villa
TC2_Secret
Night Five fresh draft
Homefront
The Waiting Room
Q3_Landing
Next_part2
soft colors_hannix
Tags to play: @wanna-be-bold @pro-bee @loudlooks @indestinatus @television-overload (my brain can't remember anyone else - join in if you want!)
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So, you've found yourself on the good ship Hannix.
And now you're looking for some fic to get your fix. Well, you're in luck! Please enjoy this list of Hannix fic recommendations (in no particular order):
Not A Chance by @myshipsaresunk
A Day In The Life by myshipsaresunk
From The Ashes by myshipsaresunk
The Seresin Family & other Hannix fics by @bradshawsbaby
Snapshots by bradshawsbaby
The Sound of Silence by WineRed
As High As You Can Into The Wild Blue by therethedanceis
All Too Well by @princess-prentiss
Each Beast Gets Her Burden by @thriceturned
Bombs Away by thriceturned
Tug of War by @coraphoenix
Midnight Air by coraphoenix
Bullshit (You Can Be Mine) by ForASecondThereWedWon
Trapdoor Prayers by ForASecondThereWedWon
I Don't Wanna Give You Up series by @katiesharms
The Wedding Bet Date by @happypopcornprincess
This is not an exhaustive list by any means, these are just the ones that I've read and enjoyed! I know there's more on AO3 and in the Hannix tag, and while I'm not a FanFiction.net or WattPad person, I bet you could probably find more on those sites as well.
I will also leave you with @jakeseresinnix if you want a great blog to follow for all kinds of Hannix content, and a few Hannix playlists!
My own Hannix playist
bradshawsbaby's playlist
myshipsaresunk's playlist for From The Ashes
(hannix mood board by me)
#top gun maverick#hannix#hangman x phoenix#phoenix x hangman#jake seresin x natasha trace#natasha trace x jake seresin#jake hangman seresin x natasha phoenix trace#natasha phoenix trace x jake hangman seresin#natasha trace#natasha phoenix trace#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#tgm fanfiction#my post
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call sign: tennessee whiskey | rooster x fem!reader & hangman x phoenix | chapter three
summary: the bird strike accident, and the stakes of life and death, push everyone a little closer to reconciling with their own feelings.
warnings: enemies to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of death, strong possibility of military inaccuracies, second person pov, no use of y/n,
wc: 6.4k
listen to: the playlist
chapter two | masterlist | chapter four
Halfway through week two the stress of the mission has gotten to you. It’s gotten to everyone. It’s easy to compartmentalize when you’re used to being sent into war. Sure, you’ve had some time to decompress – like the night you and Halo roped everyone into a skin care night, or the beach day where, for the first time since arriving, this special detachment had finally begun to feel like a team.
But the levity and your ability to compartmentalize are beginning to escape you as the intensity of this mission chisels away at every tool you have in the box. You can feel it in how exhausted you are, passing out for hours after training days end. You feel it in the way that your lungs feel virtually crushed by gravity when you pop up up, charging up from the hard deck – a number that seems to keep dropping lower and lower as time goes on.
“Cool it, Whiskey,” Maverick had chastised you, by the time you’d debriefed in the classroom. “Your decision would have ensured an attack by enemy SAMs. Might I remind you that you were Team Leader in this exercise. It would’ve been a dogfight for all of you.”
“I’m sorry, sir. You’re right. We were too early,” you apologize, in reference to pulling up too soon.
“You’re going to have to figure out how to fight gravity for just a little longer, Lieutenant. The timing has to be perfect for this mission,” Maverick instructs, a weight in his voice, like he hates doing this.
“Understood, sir,” you’d answered, accepting that you needed to pivot your strategy.
After each debrief, one unsuccessful attempt after another, Maverick haunts each of you with the question no one wants to think about:
What will you tell their family?
It's the heaviest weight to carry, especially as pilot of a two-seater, and everyone’s responded differently to the ferocity of this mission. Regardless of the fact that the only pilot who’s made it to the target is Rooster, Hangman continues to hide behind his arrogant demeanor, snapping at anyone who questions it or him. Phoenix is focused, near-robotic, cold, and calculating as she continues to work tirelessly towards the new time limit that Maverick’s set. While you’re impulsive and rash, you’re quick to respond in high stress situations forcing you to take risks that you wouldn’t under normal circumstances. But Rooster’s hesitant – a thinker – and you can see that he’s getting too caught up in his head. He likes to wait, examine each option carefully, before making a decision, which only frustrates him as he falls behind schedule each time.
It’s not till Jake’s very public, mal-intended, and vicious dig aimed at Rooster, that the tension snaps. What almost turns into a fight in the classroom makes everyone realize just how on the edge you’ve all been. As Maverick dismisses the group of aviators, you follow Hangman out of the room, hot on his heels, before shoving him into an empty classroom to talk.
“What the hell were you thinking bringing up his father like that, Hangman? Are you insane?” you hiss, slamming the door behind him.
With a smug, amused look on his face, he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back against one of the desks.
“Why do you fucking care, Whiskey?” he taunts you, as if he already knows the answer.
His cool, unaffected act is really starting to piss you off, and you find yourself growing even more frustrated, the longer he sits there.
“That was out of line, Seresin. And you know it!” you exclaim, in awe at how unkind your best friend had been.
He scoffs, looking away from you for a second. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip before his demeanor changes from arrogant to mean when he looks back at you.
“Don’t think I haven’t seen how friendly you and him have been lately. You into him or something? Is that what this is about?” he snaps, his tone cool as he avoids taking any blame whatsoever for his outburst.
“That’s not what-. You didn’t have to bring up his father. Not like that,” you argue passionately before continuing your tirade.
“Sometimes I don't know why you need to be so goddamn provocative all the time, Hangman. I mean what was the point? You want to get in his head? Congrats. You did it. You wanna piss off Maverick or something? I mean, what the hell, man?!”
Your answer doesn’t seem to satisfy him, his voice laced with venom as he spits:
“So this is about him. Rooster.”
“Why does it matter?!” you shout, frustrated by his attempts to answer any of your questions.
And truthfully, you’re getting pretty fucking tired of him putting this all on you.
“Because!” he yells, the anger bursting out of him. “You're taking his side, kid!”
He pauses, taking a moment to collect himself before lowering his voice. Jake knows that you don’t deserve this – that he shouldn’t take this out on you – but watching you stand on Rooster’s side when the fight broke up had stung more than he had the words to express.
He drops his gaze to the floor, his voice softening as he manages to get out, “It’s supposed to be me and you against the world, kid. Don't you remember?'
It’s not an excuse for his poor behavior, but you know he’s hurt.
Your mind floats back to the look of betrayal on his face when he realized you had rushed to Rooster’s side – not his. Of course he wanted you to be happy. He knew you deserved that. You were his best friend, after all.
You were the person he knew he could call after an exceptionally bad day, the only person on the planet who knew he joined the Navy just to piss off his dad, the person who’d seen every single side of him and hadn’t run in the other direction yet.
You were his one true friend.
Jake thinks back to his graduation from the Naval Academy – the day you told off his father. Mr. Seresin had spent the entirety of his graduation dinner making snide remarks instead of celebrating his son’s incredible accomplishment. Something about the working class this, and how he’d never understand why his only son would want to ruin his life by becoming a public servant instead of following in his footsteps.
And there you were, nineteen years old, standing up to the oil tycoon in a way he hadn’t even figured out yet. That’s the moment he knew: no matter what happened, no matter how much time passed, no matter the distance between the two of you, you were stuck with him, because no way in hell he would ever let go.
You were like his kid sister. His Texan. His Tennessee Whiskey.
And even though the idea that this was anything more than platonic was a long gone sentiment, he still hated the idea of having to share you.
Especially with Rooster.
He knows he’s being selfish, but he can’t help it, perhaps a symptom of his own stress from the last week.
“That’s not fair,” you point out, breaking the silence between the two of you.
He waits a beat before admitting, somberly:
“I know.”
You take a step towards him, softening your body language so that he knows you come in peace.
“You weren’t in the right there, dude,” you say with a sigh, only mildly resenting the fact that you have to state that explicitly. “What you said to Rooster… about his dad? About Mav? That was cruel... and frankly, really unprofessional, dude.”
Jake’s still, his body frozen and his eyes are fixed to the floor as he listens to you. He feels like a kid who’s gotten in trouble. He can’t look at you yet – too embarrassed by his own behavior because he knows you’re right – so he just listens.
“So yeah. I'm taking his side on this one…” you explain, as compassionately as you can. You take another step towards him, reassuring him with, “...but that doesn't mean I don't still have your back.”
“I’ll always have your back, Seresin,” you promise. The use of his name instead of his call sign is the thing that gets him to look up, his expression remorseful.
“I know,” he repeats, in acceptance.
You smile softly.
“And sometimes… because you insist on being such an arrogant prick sometimes… having your back means calling you out on your bullshit when you fuck up,” you add, only teasing him a little to lighten up the mood.
Even seated, Jake’s physical presence is still bigger than yours, but you match him with the amount of space you dare to take up.
“Yeah, whatever,” he smirks, looking away for a moment before returning his gaze back to you.
You reach out a hand to squeeze his shoulder, letting him know that you’re here for him.
“I’m sorry, Whiskey,” he mumbles, looking down once more, his lips pressed together in a thin line.
“You’re… you’re what? Did you just say-, because I’m not sure I heard you the first time. Was that an… apology?” you tease, playfully.
“Oh shut up,” he groans with an eye roll.
“It’s just that… I’m gonna need to get this one on film because no one will believe me if I tell them that you, Jake Seresin, actually apologized to me,” you continue to poke fun at him, giving him shit because you can.
“You better not!” he warns you with a laugh.
“Oh I’m telling everyone. I actually think I deserve a lifetime achievement award for this,” you celebrate, sarcastically.
“Fine, I’ll say it again if you just quit it!” he exclaims, with an exasperated sigh.
He takes a moment, before dramatically shouting towards the heavens:
“I said I’m sorry, Whiskey!”
“Bullseye!” you cheer, as if you’ve beat him at darts at the Hard Deck.
You watch as the corners of his lips twist up into a small smile while he holds his hands up in the air as a sign of surrender. His smile warms you, and you’re reminded for a moment of why you’ve put up with him for this damn long. The two of you exchange a laugh before allowing the comfortable quiet between the two of you to settle in.
“Jake.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” you voice, as seriously as you can.
And he knows you’re right about that too.
*
All you want to do is crawl into bed and come out when all of this is over. No one goes into the military – no one gets to be in the top 1% of naval aviators – without understanding the risk that comes with being in a combat zone. It’s the unique, exceptionally difficult, and limited time of this mission that seems to be kicking everyone’s ass, and it all becomes more and more of a reality the day that Phoenix and Bob’s F/A-18 goes down.
Once the doctors had given the Dagger Squad the greenlight to visit with Bob and Phoenix, you’d all piled into their shared hospital room in an attempt to keep them company. While both of them seemed to be in good spirits, the accident had scared the shit out of you. You understand why it’s easier – not to have attachments when doing this job – and today is one of those days where it feels like it would just be easier not to.
You look around the room, observing the wild cast of characters you call a detachment. Coyote’s just said something funny that’s got Jake howling with laughter, while Fanboy and Bob are fixated on some game they’re playing on Fanboy’s phone. Halo, Payback, and Fritz have gone for a coffee run, even though visiting hours are almost over. You can only imagine that it’s a sight for sore eyes: so many of you piled into one hospital room in your khakis.
You’ve all decided that you’re going to stay for as long as possible. After spending some time with Bob and Fanboy, it’s time to visit with Nat. You examine each aviator and the extra chairs that the hospital staff brought into the room for your group. Hangman sits in a folding chair next to Javy in between Bob and Phoenix’s bed. As you stand up with the intention of making your way over to Phoenix, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the sight of him.
You fixate on the toothpick in Hangman’s mouth. He tosses it around, chewing on it while he scrolls through something on his phone as you walk by.
“Stop that! This is a hospital room,” you deride, as you snatch the toothpick out of his mouth. You earn a look of agitation and shock as Jake watches you walk over to the small trash can, tossing his used toothpick into a small trashcan.
“Hey!” he calls after you, before addressing the rest of the aviators in the room. “Does anyone want a little sister? I’m trying to get rid of one.”
“Always told you it was a nasty habit,” you shrug, and he glares at you in response.
“Y’all are so cute,” Coyote gushes, sarcastically.
“She has a point,” Bob backs you up, in reference to your previous comment.
“Shut up, Baby On Board,” Hangman grumbles, returning his focus back on his phone.
The scene you’ve caused gives you the perfect time to talk to Nat more privately, since everyone is focused on something else. It’s not that you haven’t spent much time together, but you’ve been surrounded by almost all of the other Dagger Squad members all day.
“How ya doin?” you ask Phoenix, as she flips through a trashy gossip rag you’d purchased for her at the gift shop.
“I’m alright. More disappointed than anything. I hated having to eject,” she admits, a bitterness in her voice. You settle into the nicer hospital chair that someone’s moved over to her bedside.
“I know. But you know the bird strike wasn’t your fault,” you reinforce, making sure that she knows it.
“Yeah,” she replies, though you’re not sure she believes it. She turns the page of the magazine.
Even though you haven’t said anything, Natasha can tell that you’re worried about her. It’s written all over your face, and she can feel it in the way that you’ve refused to leave her side all afternoon. She’d practically had to beg you to go on a gift shop earlier so that she could take a nap. She changes the subject, putting on her best sing-song voice in an attempt to make you laugh.
“Uh oh! Trouble in paradise?” she says, reading the headline out loud of the trashy magazine you’d bought her earlier. “Is it just a glitch or did Miley Cyrus unfollow Liam Hemsworth on instagram?!”
You laugh at the headline, leaning over so that you can take a peek at the magazine in her lap.
“Woah! Miley Cyrus and Liam Hemsworth are splittin’ up? No way! Lemme see!” Coyote chimes in loudly, hopping up on Nat’s hospital bed to join in on the gossip session.
“Seriously! You’re surprised? That relationship’s been a rollercoaster ride for the last… few years!” Jake practically exclaims, in the same kind of way he’d rattle off a fact about the Dallas Cowboys.
“Didn’t take you as one to keep up with celebrity gossip,” Bob remarks snarkily, from his hospital bed, earning a laugh from everyone in the room but Jake.
Jake’s face falls for a moment as he sighs, “Whatever, Floyd.”
“Let me see, Phoenix,” Coyote encourages, holding a hand out so that he can take a look at the article. “Unlike Hangman over here, I’m shameless when it comes to this shit. And there better be horoscopes at the back of this thing or I don’t want it at all.”
You and Nat exchange a glance, giggling. Jake sighs crankily, before mumbling something about going to go ask for more ice chips. Nat sits up in her hospital bed, handing the magazine over to Javy while he flips through it, desperately searching for the horoscope page.
“He’s always been a sore loser,” you comment, smugly, as soon as Jake’s out of earshot.
“Hey, where’s Rooster?” Nat asks you, noticing that Bradley hasn’t been to visit at all.
“Oh uh,” you hesitate, unsure of how she’ll take it. You’ve exchanged a few texts with Bradley since the accident, but you’re mostly making assumptions. “Think he’s back on base. Last I heard Maverick gave him an update about you guys…. I think between the accident… and Jake bringing up his dad the other day… this is all… a lot.”
She nods in understanding.
“Do you want me to call him? I will if you-,” you begin to ask.
“No!” she interrupts you. “No, I’m not upset. I-, I just want to make sure he’s okay, you know?”
“Yeah, of course,” you reply. You’re about to suggest that you FaceTime him when she grabs your hand, an ‘I need a favor’ kind of look plastered to her face.
“You’ll go check on him, won’t you? For me?” she asks, batting her eyelashes a few times at you in an attempt to butter you up.
You roll your eyes playfully, glaring at her as you accuse, “You’re the shameless one here! Not Javy.”
She shrugs, a fox-like grin on her face, because she knows exactly what she’s doing.
“Pretty please?” she asks, so sweetly that you’re not sure how you’re going to say no.
You sigh in surrender, standing up out of your chair.
“You could’ve just said something if you wanted to get rid of me, Trace,” you chide, digging for your keys in the bag you brought to the hospital.
“But that would be a lie! You’ve been so great at cheering us up here. I think your services may be needed…” she says before lowering her voice and wiggling her eyebrows, “...elsewhere.”
“Mhm. Sure,” you hum, with a playful eye roll to follow.
You know exactly why she wants you to go check on Rooster.
And truthfully, you don’t mind being the one she’s asking to do it either.
“I am worried about him,” she confesses genuinely. “So thank you.”
“‘Course, Nat,” you assure.
It’s not a long drive back to base. By the time you find Rooster, he’s in the rec room hunched over the piano that’s probably been in there for longer than you’ve been alive. You wouldn’t exactly call what he’s playing a song. He’s just running his fingers over the keys, playing a few notes, then a few stray riffs here and there, trying his best to keep his mind occupied.
“Hey,” you say, your voice pulling him away from whatever he’s fixating on.
He’s surprised to hear your voice – surprised to see you – as he turns around to face you, still seated on the piano bench.
“Hey.”
“I thought you’d be with Phoenix and Bob,” he replies, quietly.
“Yeah, I was,” you say, beginning to approach him. “But… Phoenix wanted me to come check on you. See how you were doing.”
The smallest smile spreads across his face as he says, “Of course she did.”
You take a moment to take him in. He looks tired – more so than usual.
“How are you?” you ask, softly.
Rooster remains seated on the piano bench, his forearms resting on his knees. You can tell he’s been deep in thought.
“Not so great,” he admits, giving you a half-smile. “But. Better? Now that you’re here.”
You walk over to where he sits. Rooster pulls you into his arms for a hug, and it feels so good to be this close to him. It’s comforting: the way he feels warm against your skin, the way he smells like sweat and cologne from the day before. You hug him tightly and he’s burying his face in your neck.
“How are they? Bob and Phoenix,” Rooster asks, as he begins to pull away.
You keep your arms wrapped around his neck while his hands remain on your waist.
“They’re good,” you answer, trying to keep your tone positive. “Just being kept overnight for observation but I bet they’ll be back on base by tomorrow morning.”
He gives you the softest smile, before pulling you down onto his lap. You giggle in response, both of your legs shifted to one side of him as you stretch them across his and the piano bench. Your hands go to the back of his head, drawing comforting circles at the base of his neck.
“It’s been a day, huh?” he sighs, enjoying the feel of your body against his.
Ever since your date over the weekend, you’d spent as much time together as possible: going for early morning runs, grabbing coffees in between breaks, eating lunch together. But it hadn’t gone any further than flirtatious friends, which was kind of the whole point of not sleeping with him a few nights ago. This had been the most intimate physical contact you’d had so far, and you take note. It’s strange really – a good kind of strange – how easy it feels to slip into his arms like this, like you’ve been doing it for years.
“What’s on your mind?” Rooster asks you, catching you deep in contemplation.
And as much as you’d love to kiss him right now, let him get you naked in the middle of the rec room and take you there, you can’t imagine what that would do to your focus. And you can’t lose it right now. Not after today.
“Let’s go to the beach,” you declare, impulsively.
You practically jump out of his lap and onto your feet, earning a look from Rooster.
“Right now?” he asks, unable to hide his surprise.
“Right now,” you nod.
There’s a light in your eyes that Rooster can’t ignore – it’s something he wants to learn inside and out – so he agrees, following you out of the rec room and down the path from the base to the beach. You don’t give either of you much more time to think about… or any time to change. You’re not sure what you did to deserve his trust, but you hold his hand the entire way there. The two of you kick your shoes off at the top of the beach entrance, then hurry down to the water before you bring the both of you to a halt at the water’s edge.
“I love the ocean,” you sigh, as if a 500 pound weight’s been lifted off your shoulders. You take a deep breath, inhaling the salty air, focusing only on the sound of the waves crashing against each other. “It makes everything else feel so small, you know? Reminds me that we’re not in control. That there’s something so much bigger and that I’ve just got to trust.”
You chuckle before continuing, before shooting him a look.
“Guess that’s why I joined the Navy.”
In that moment, Rooster is completely enamored with you. He comes to the conclusion that he’s completely enchanted as he listens to you talk. You’re so vibrant, so full of life, and he likes that, while he gets so stuck in his head all the time, you’re the complete opposite. He’s so lost, so in awe of you, that he forgets to answer you.
You giggle at his loss of words, turning to him.
“Watcha thinkin’ about?” you ask.
He’s not sure what possesses him to say it when he answers:
“You.”
With a wicked smile on your face you grab his hands in yours as you say, “What about me?”
“You’re magnificent,” he marvels, his fingers intertwined with yours.
Your heart skips a beat and you can feel all the blood rush to your head in response to what he’s said. It makes you feel dizzy.
God, you can’t wait for this mission to be over.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” you flirt back.
“Do you trust me?” you ask, a glimmer of mischief in your eyes.
“Uh… yes…?” Rooster hesitates, as you let go of his hands. He watches as you take a few steps backwards, pulling your collared shirt out of the waist of your pants. Rooster bites down on his bottom lip as he watches you pull the shirt over your head, before tossing it onto the sand.
“Shit,” he groans, his pants suddenly feeling much tighter. He doesn’t look away as you undo your belt buckle, shimmying out of your pants too. He wonders if he should look away – as it would be the respectful thing to do – since all you’re wearing now is your bra and a pair of seamless cheeky panties that has him gulping.
“What’re you doing, Whiskey?” he wavers, his breath caught in his throat.
“C’mon,” you encourage, winking at him.
You take off, charging into the ocean. The cold water hits your feet, and you think it may be just what the both of you need.
“Don’t be a chicken!” you taunt him cheekily, as a nod to his call sign.
You look back at him over your shoulder, before wading further into the water, and it’s as if his pants couldn’t be any tighter than they are now.
“God damn it, woman,” Rooster rasps, pulling his shirt over his head.
He’s not going to let you do this alone, and your little strip tease on the beach pushes him forward, as he strips off his pants too. In seconds, Rooster’s chasing after you, using all the force in his legs to propel himself against the tide. It doesn’t matter that the water’s a less than ideal temperature, that his time back at TOPGUN has brought up so much shit about his dad and Mav, that he’s hard as a rock from watching you undress on the beach.
You are intoxicating.
He watches as you reach a point where the water is deep enough to swim. You dive into the water before egging him on to come with you. He follows, and the two of you swim further out to where the waves calm and you can just breathe for a moment.
Rooster treads water, inching closer towards you, as the waves still.
You steal a glance his way. The way the moonlight catches him takes makes you absolutely breathless, and you’re not sure how you’re going to keep your hands off of him.
“Feel better?” you ask, optimistically.
“Yeah. You?” he grins back at you.
Only, it’s not just the water that’s made him feel better.
“Absolutely,” you answer, beaming back at him. “Cmon. Let’s just swim a little more.”
So you do, the two of you putting your military-grade swimming skills to the test. You enjoy the feel of the cold water against your body as you glide through the water, a feeling of relief washing over you. You finally settle on a spot where Bradley can stand, but you still have to tread water, moving closer and closer to him.
“Wanna swim closer to shore?” he offers, as he notices that you’re still treading water.
“No, it’s okay,” you reply with a shake of your head.
Before you know it, Bradley’s pulling you into his arms, and you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, the ocean shielding both of your bodies from the surface. And it’s in that moment that you don’t think, all thoughts and hesitations about being too distracted to fly your F/A-18 go right out the door. Fuck it. Fuck the risk. Fuck not getting attached. Fuck not getting distracted – even if just for a night.
It’s then that you decide to break all of your rules, placing your mouth over his into a passionate lip lock.
Kissing you feels like heaven, as he memorizes the way you taste. His tongue snakes out against your bottom lip, and soon enough, his tongue is in your mouth, tangling with yours. You swear could get lost in the way Rooster feels pressed against you as your hands drag across over his shoulders, the tough scars that run along his neck and shoulders, the hard planes of his abdomen.
“Shit, Whiskey,” he moans into your mouth. “You keep kissing me like that and I don’t know if I’ll be able to wait till after the mission.”
You pull away for a brief moment, taking a deep breath so that you don’t give in right here. It takes all of your self restraint to say what you say next.
“Well you’re just gonna have to,” you tease him, deviously. You press your forehead against his, your lips inches away from where you want them to be. “If either of us get chosen for this mission… think of it as an incentive.”
“For what?” he asks, breathlessly. He buries his face in your neck, tickling your soft skin with the texture of his mustache. He begins to tease you – since you seem to love teasing him so much – leaving soft love bites along your collarbone and tops of your left shoulder.
You giggle at feeling, and when he raises his head, you kiss him again like it’s your last night on earth. You’re sucking on his bottom lip and he’s reaching up to cup your face, holding you close to him. You indulge yourself in him for a little longer, wanting to savor every single moment of this, before realizing you have a question to answer. You begin to slow down your kisses, pressing your forehead to his once more before finally whispering:
“To come home. Incentive to come home.”
It takes all of his power not to melt into a puddle right then and there.
“Okay,” he agrees, with a nod, beaming across from you.
If you don’t do something now, you’ll end up fucking him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, so you plant one more soft kiss to his lips, reluctantly prying yourself away from his embrace.
“Think you can beat me back to shore?” you challenge, playfully.
“Jesus Christ,” he groans, a half smile on his face as he watches you take off. “You’re gonna be the death of me,”
But instead, he swims after you, racing you back to shore. If he were Hangman in this scenario, he probably wouldn’t let you win, using his much larger stature to propel himself further and faster through the waves. But instead, he lets you win, because he knows just how much you like the competition. By the time you reach the shore, you collect your clothes, but know it’s no use putting them back on when you have to report for duty at 0800 tomorrow morning.
You stop by his car before heading back to the barracks, considering you both will be returning in questionable enough states as is. Bradley gives you the spare UVA pullover he has in his backseat, before slipping on one of his many Hawaiian button ups he had in his trunk.
“Exactly how many of those do you own?” you question, curiously.
But he doesn’t answer, instead distracted by the way you look in his pullover. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and he thinks he may come from just the sight of you in his clothes. Instead of answering, he takes your hand in his and walks you back to the barracks, unable to let go of your hand now that he knows what your lips feel like against his.
About to part ways, you let go of his hand, even though you’d much rather follow him back to his room. He kisses you once, before turning to go, his room all the way down the hall from yours.
“Hey, Bradshaw?” you call after him, stopping him after a few steps.
“What’s up?” he asks, turning to face you once more, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.
“It’s gonna be worth it,” you state, confidently.
He knows exactly what you’re talking about as his eyebrows raise and then lower before replying with an:
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” you smirk. “I’m gonna rock your world, Lieutenant.”
His breath hitches in his throat. He’s so gonna have to get off by himself tonight.
“Is that a promise?” he asks, unsure how his voice isn’t shaking yet.
“Absolutely.”
As much as he’d like to throw you over his shoulder and continue when you left off back at the beach, Rooster charges towards you, planting one last heated kiss on your lips till the end of this mission. The way he kisses you leaves you speechless, and you swear you look like the heart eye emoji symbol by the time he stops kissing you.
“Thought I’d give you something to look forward to,” he whispers against your lips, because two can play at this game.
And for a moment, you forget to breathe.
He leaves one last kiss on your forehead, his lips soft against your skin, before properly pulling away.
“Goodnight, Whiskey.”
*
Nat’s fallen asleep.
As she begins to come to, stirring in her hospital bed, she hears the steady beeps of her and Bob’s heart rate monitors, and a scuffle of feet passing by in the hallway. She figures she must’ve dozed off because there’s no way that it’s morning already. Phoenix begins to blink her eyes open slowly, and the first face she sees is the last person she’s expecting to.
“Bagman?” she groans, her voice raspy with sleep.
The blonde startles, her voice waking him from his slumber – or at least what little, restless sleep he’s managed to stumble into.
“Phoenix,” he grumbles, peeking one eye open to look at her.
“What’re you still doing here?” she asks, confused as she sits up taller. She feels around for her phone that’s been thrown somewhere on her bed.
“Guess I fell asleep,” Hangman answers, with a shrug. He settles back into his chair, signaling to her that he’s not going anywhere any time soon.
23:37 pm.
“It’s late,” she states.
“No shit,” he’s quick to reply.
Natasha rests her back against her pillow, closing her eyes again. She figures he’ll leave – realize that it’s almost midnight – that they’ve still got practice maneuvers to fly in the morning. As she waits to hear the shuffle of Jake collecting his things so that he can leave, she’s surprised when she’s not met with her expected response.
She opens her eyes once more, checking to see if Bob is still asleep before asking:
“You good, Seresin?” she asks, her voice coming out strained.
“Yeah, I'm always good, Phoenix,” he answers, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed his chest. “You worried about me?”
She wants to make a snarky comment, but something stops her. For once, Hangman looks tired, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes are more pronounced, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.
“No, I just-,” she begins, her eyes traveling to the hospital room door that’s been closed. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Back on base. I let Coyote take the rest of ‘em home in my truck,” he answers, as if it’s no big deal at all. “Texted Whiskey an hour ago to see if she could come pick me up but she hasn’t answered. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”
Jake had overheard parts of Phoenix’s conversation with Whiskey a few hours ago, but he wasn’t going to let either of them know what he knew just yet.
She smirks, shaking her head as a dismissal of his question.
“You could take a car home,” she points out, redirecting the conversation back to Jake’s presence.
“Yeah, I could,” Jake replies, casually. “You that quick to get rid of me?”
Phoenix doesn’t answer, and he’s not expecting her to. And instead of getting up to leave, ordering a car and heading back to the barracks, he shifts in his chair, in an effort to get comfortable.
The way he avoids her questions, her attempts to send him home, make Natasha believe that Jake Seresin has no intention of leaving, which only confuses her more. Underneath his arrogant demeanor, and all of the back and forth between the two of them, did Jake Seresin have a genuine bone in his body after all? Could there be something… real… here? Could something else be hiding underneath all of the back and forth, the competitive nature of their relationship, the way they act like they can’t stand each other? Normally, she wouldn’t think twice about it, but between the accident and the fact that Jake won’t seem to leave her bedside, she can’t help but wonder.
Jake observes her, searching for any kind of reaction on her face. Even though he hasn’t explicitly said that he’d like to stay with her for the rest of the night, that’s his plan. It’s why he gave Coyote the keys to his truck to take everyone else home. And why he’d lied about texting Whiskey an hour ago. He’s not sure he can be any more clear without explicitly stating it, which is not going to happen any time soon.
As he searches her face, he’s almost annoyed with how good she still looks. Who looks good in a hospital gown after ejecting out of an on-fire super hornet? Natasha Trace. That’s who. But with her hair down, and the way it falls around her shoulders, he finds himself hypnotized by the woman that he pretends gets under his skin.
The quiet between them is filled with tension. It’s just him and her. Jake double checks that Bob’s still asleep as he works up the nerve to say something real for once.
“Gave me a real scare for a minute there, Trace,” he admits, breaking the silence between them.
She shakes her head, a smirk on her face because she’s not sure whether or not he means it.
“I didn’t know you could care about anyone but yourself,” she counters, testing him.
He scowls at her comment, crossing his arms over his chest again.
“I don’t,” he says, as if it’s a challenge.
“Whatever you say, Bagman.”
Jake returns his focus on his phone, sending a quick text to Whiskey that he won’t be back tonight and that she shouldn’t worry if she finds his room empty. He’s just trying his best to make it look like he’s busy with something else. Like he doesn’t care. Like none of this is a big deal.
But it is.
And he knows it.
He just doesn’t know how to tell her the truth.
With the words practically on the tip of his tongue, he swallows them instead of saying:
I care about you more than you know.
read: chapter four
*
a/n: i told @not-two-shrimp that hangman and phoenix are too both two people who have too much pride to tell each other how they really feel and that's that on that. JUICY hangman x phoenix chapter coming NEXT!!!
taglist: @not-two-shrimp @wishfulwithwine @hangmanscoming @thefourrealms @hlkwrites
#call sign tennessee whiskey#rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw x reader#hangman x phoenix#hannix#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradsaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#natasha phoenix trace#phoenix top gun#jake hangman seresin#rooster x reader#hangman top gun#jake seresin
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GIF Challenge
Why is Rooster going after Hangman?
Me personally, it would involve Phoenix for an unusual reason.
Any takers?
Write a story based on this gif.
#gif challenge#fanfiction#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake seresin#hangman#bradley bradshaw#rooster#hannix#hangman x phoenix#natasha phoenix trace#natasha trace#phoenix#imdonnalynn gif challenge#imdonnalynn
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