#{powell}

No one on this team is more of a flirt than Jake Seresin, he’s been all over you since the day he laid eyes on you. It’s not that you don’t enjoy the attention but you know better than to give into him. Although your fight is starting to waver. He might be a flirt, a real player, but damn is he perfect.

He is, to say the least, an attractive sight—and that was what annoyed you the most, his perfect smile, the way he'd smile your way, making your heart skip a beat, his cocky demeanor, and the way he looked in his flight suit. 

The beach football game was in full swing, the sun was shining and the team was split into two. You wore a red bikini top and some shorts, and you stood out from the rest of the men as one of the two women in the group.

Hangman was having a really hard time focusing on the game, his eyes constantly traveling to you. The sight of you in your red bikini top, and shorts, your legs on full display. He constantly found himself getting distracted by your body, especially the way your curves looked in the clothing. He was struggling to keep his cool while playing the game but he still was playing decently, however, he kept sneaking glances at you in your lovely attire.

As you moved to block the pass, you noticed Jake was distracted, very much distracted. His eyes were practically glued to your body, it was obvious that he was struggling to focus on the game, the way your body looked in your outfit was driving him insane, he was finding it hard to resist the urge to just stop playing and just look at you instead.

“Are you distracted Hangman?” you quip with a slight smirk. 

Hangman's eyes snapped up from your body and he quickly regained his composure. "Distracted? Me? Never" he replied with a cocky smile, trying to act unaffected. His eyes still lingered on your body for a moment before he quickly looked away.

“Oh really?” you brush your hand against his hip, “You look like you’re imagining me without my top.” Hangman's breath hitched when you brushed your hand against his hip, a shiver running down his spine at your touch. And as you walk away, giving him a suggestive glance over your shoulder, he couldn't help but let out a low, quiet groan.

"God damn you" he muttered to himself as he watched you walk away, his mind replaying your words over and over, the image of you without your top on now burned in his mind. 

Hangman's eyes were fixated on your chest, watching every move as you jumped up, the way your breasts bounced and the way your body moved. He was trying so hard to focus on the game, to ignore the way you were distracting him, but the more he tried, the more his thoughts became filled with only you.

He shifted uncomfortably in his shorts, feeling them becoming tighter and more restricted as his mind filled with thoughts of you, the way you looked in your bikini top. 

As the game ended and your team won, you turned to look at Jake, only to find him looking incredibly distracted. It was obvious that he had been struggling to focus on the game in the last few minutes, his eyes had been constantly on you, the way you moved, the way you looked in your bikini.

"You okay over there, Hangman?" you ask with a knowing smirk, enjoying the effect you were having on him. Jake's eyes snapped up to meet yours, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said with a cocky smile, though his voice was slightly strained. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to act nonchalant, but he couldn't help the way his eyes drifted down to your body again, taking in your appearance.

As the team sits on the beach with their beers, enjoying the sunset, you notice Jake stealing glances at you, his eyes wandering to your body every now and then. You smirk to yourself, knowing exactly what he's looking at.

And when you catch his gaze, you pull your hair back, revealing your collarbone to him, a subtle yet deliberate tease. Hangman's eyes widen slightly, his gaze immediately drawn to the exposed skin, his mouth going dry at the sight.

Jake mumbles something about going for a swim, adjusting his shorts as he walks towards the water. You catch a glimpse of the subtle movement, noticing the way he's trying to hide the aching bulge.

As he enters the water, he lets out a sigh of relief, hoping the cool water will help calm his arousal. But looking around, he catches sight of you sitting on the beach. 

You quickly slip out of your shorts, aware that Jake's gaze was fixed on you. You could feel his eyes on you, watching every move you made. The thought of him watching you made you feel a little bit daring.

As you stepped towards the water, you made sure to move slowly, giving him the full view of your body in your bikini, the evening's light emphasizing your curves and making you shimmer.

“Thought I would join you.” As you stepped into the water, a shiver ran down your spine from the coldness, immediately bringing a sense of goosebumps on your skin. But still, you continued to approach him, your eyes full of mischief.

Jake's eyes followed your every step, his gaze tracing the contour of your body, the way your bikini top moved as you adjusted it, his breaths becoming more shallow as you neared him.

“You seem really worked up there, Seresin.” you tease, stopping in front of him. 

Jake took a shuddering breath, trying to keep his cool as he replied with a smirk. "Worked up, honey? Never."

But his response was strained, his voice hoarse as he struggled to maintain his composure with you standing so close. His eyes were raking over your body once more, taking in the sight of you in your bikini.

“So then, you wouldn’t mind if I swam topless?” you raise an eyebrow, watching his reaction. Jake's eyes widened at your suggestion, a mix of surprise and desire flashing across his face. 

He tried to keep his cool but couldn't help the way his mouth went dry at the thought of you with no top on. "I... uh... I'd actually prefer if you did." he managed to say, his voice gruff and his eyes fixated on you, hungry and full of lust.

“Tsk, of course you would.” you turn your back to him, “Then why don't you do the honor and untie me.” Jake swallowed hard, his eyes following you as you turned around, showing him your back and the strap of your bikini top. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, his hands itching to touch you, to feel your skin against his.

"You really don't need to ask twice," he said, his voice low and hoarse. He took a step forward, his hands moving to the strap on your back, his fingers slightly shaking from excitement and anticipation.

He slowly untied the knot, his eyes never leaving your body, his breathing becoming more labored with each passing second. Jake's eyes were transfixed as the strings dangle at your side, his hand moving closer to your bare skin, yearning to touch you, to feel your body against his. 

But he held back, waiting, waiting to see if you would pull it from around your neck, anticipating the moment when he could finally let himself touch you. "God damn.." he breathed out, his eyes raking over your bare back, his hands twitching by his sides, holding onto the last bit of self-control he had.

“You’re holding back a lot better than I anticipated.” you tease, turning to face him. Jake's breath hitched at your touch, the feel of your finger gently pressing under his chin to make him meet your gaze sent a bolt of electricity through him. 

He tried to keep his cool, he really did, but the feeling of your hand on his skin and the sight of your bare chest in front of him was driving him insane. He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on yours, his voice hoarse as he replied "You have no idea how much I'm holding back, darlin'.."

Your hand trails down his chest, fingers tracing his muscles as you move closer. “I don't want you to hold back Jake.” his eyes darkened with desire as you stepped closer, your bodies almost touching.

He took a ragged breath as your words registered in his mind, "You... you don't?" he managed to breathe out, his voice low and gruff, his body tensing under your touch. You shake your head, a small smirk still painted on your lips. You tuck your bikini top in the waistband of your bottoms, making sure not to lose them. 

“I’ve been teasing you for a reason. Don’t you know how impractical it is to play football in a skimpy bikini?” you brush past him, treading further into the water, beckoning for him to come closer. 

"You have been a tease.. a very good one," he said, his voice low and hoarse with lust. He followed you into the water, his steps becoming more eager as you beckoned him closer, his body aching to touch you.

You stop moving once the water covers your chest, turning to face him once again. “And you’ve been very good at keeping your hands to yourself.” 

Jake couldn't take his eyes off you, watching as the water covered your chest, making your skin glisten in the soft lighting. Your words snapped him out of his trance, his hands itching to touch you, to feel your skin under his palms.

He took a step closer, his hands reaching out to touch you, gently tracing your collarbone with his fingers, the contact sending a shiver down his spine. "I've been trying real hard, but you're making it damn near impossible" he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

You shiver at his touch, hands moving to his hips as you grip him softly. “Then stop resisting your urges, Jake.” 

Jake's breath hitched as your hands move to his hips, gripping him softly, the contact sending a bolt of electricity through him. Your words echoed in his mind, the small permission giving him the last push he needed.

"You really want me to stop holding back, darling?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse, his eyes darkened with lust as he looked down at you, his hands beginning to move, tracing the curves of your body.

“I want you to fuck me.” your fingers dig into his skin as you kiss his chest. “Right here, in the water.” you gaze up at him, eyes full of desire. Jake's breath caught in his throat as your words hit him, a sharp intake of air as the desire in your eyes and your kiss on his chest made his body tense with need.

"You... you're killing me, woman.." he breathed out, his hands gripping your hips, pulling your body closer to him. "Right here, huh? In the water?" he asked, his voice rough with lust as he looked down at you.

“Mhm..” you wrap your arms around his neck, your hardened nipples pressing into his warm chest. “Right here, out in the open.” Jake groaned as your arms wrapped around his neck, your body pressed firmly against his, your nipples hardening against his chest. The feeling sent a shiver of desire through him, his control slipping further and further.

He grabbed your hips, holding you tightly against him, his voice low and gruff as he replied, "You're wicked, darlin'..." he captured your lips in a deep, hungry kiss, his body responding to your presence, his need for you growing.

Jake's hands grasped your thighs firmly, gently guiding them to wrap around his waist as the water reached your hips. His strong arms supported your weight effortlessly as he kissed you, his tongue delving into your mouth with a passion that mirrored the heat building in your core. 

His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping the strands as he deepened the kiss, his desire for you unmistakable. The taste of saltwater mingled with the sweetness of your lips, adding a wild, natural flavor to the intensity of the moment. Your legs tightened around him, your body instinctively drawing closer, craving the connection as the cool water enveloped you both. 

The sensation of his bare chest against your skin, the feel of his cock pressing against you, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore were the only things that existed in your world as the kiss grew more urgent, more demanding.

As the kiss grew more heated, Jake's hands slid down to your ass, cupping it firmly as he began to move you both further into the water, the gentle waves now reaching your waist. He knew everyone was around, but the lust in your eyes and the feel of your body against his was too much to resist. 

The water swirled around you, obscuring the lower portions of your bodies as he began to grind up into you, his hardened length pressing against the fabric of your bikini bottoms. You gasped into his mouth as the sensation shot through you, your core already soaked and eager for more. 

The coolness of the ocean water didn't dampen the fire between you; if anything, it made the heat of your bodies stand out even more, a stark contrast to the surrounding elements. The way he held you, the way his body moved against yours, it was like he was claiming you right here and now, and you couldn't get enough of it. 

Your nails dug into his back, urging him closer, the friction between you growing more intense with each passing second. The world around you melted away as your focus narrowed to the two of you, the passion in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

Jake broke the kiss for a moment, his breaths heavy and eyes filled with a primal hunger. He slid his hands down to the waistband of his swim trunks and with a quick motion, slipped them down, his erection springing free and poking into your clothed pussy. He groaned at the sensation, the fabric of your bikini bottom the only barrier between you two. 

His hand slid between your thighs and with a gentle yet firm tug, he slid the fabric aside, exposing your bare pussy to the cool ocean water and his eager length. He leaned back in, capturing your mouth in another fiery kiss as he positioned himself, the tip of his erection nudging at your entrance. 

You moaned into his mouth, the anticipation building, your legs tightening around his waist as you silently begged for him to fill you. Jake's hands gripped your ass tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pushed himself closer, the water rushing in to fill the space between your bodies. 

The pressure was unbearable, the need for him to be inside you growing with each pulse of your heart. And with one final, desperate kiss, he thrust into you, the feel of your warmness enveloping him making him groan with pleasure.

With a groan of pure pleasure, Jake began to slowly guide your hips on him, his powerful thighs flexing as he thrust up to meet your movements. Each stroke was measured, deliberate, as he filled you completely, the friction of your bodies moving together in the cool water sending waves of heat through your core. 

His kisses trailed down from your mouth to your neck, along your collarbone, and to the tops of your breasts, leaving a trail of wetness and desire in their wake. His teeth nipped at your sensitive skin, eliciting gasps and soft moans that only served to spur him on. His hands roamed over your bare back, tracing the lines of your spine as he felt your muscles tighten and release with each movement. 

The sound of your moans and the feel of your tight pussy gripping him was driving him wild. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how much he wanted you, how much he needed this, as his hips met yours in a steady, passionate rhythm. The water around you grew warmer, churned by your vigorous movements and the heat of your passion. 

Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body responding to his touch as if it had been made for this moment. His eyes locked on yours, watching the ecstasy build within you, feeling the tension coil tighter with every gasp for breath. His strokes grew more urgent, his kisses more demanding, as he claimed every inch of you, leaving no part of your body untouched by his desire.

Jake's body tensed as his own release grew imminent, his hips bucking up into yours with a desperation that mirrored the need in your eyes. He could feel your warm breath on his shoulder as you buried your face into his neck, the soft moans escaping your lips music to his ears. Each stroke grew more demanding, his cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy with a slickness that only added to the urgency of the moment. 

The water around you swirled with your movements, the waves lapping at your bodies as the intensity grew. His fingers dug into your ass, holding you in place as he drove into you harder, faster, his own breaths coming in ragged gasps. He knew you were close, could feel the tremors in your legs and the way your nails dug into his skin. His movements grew erratic, his need for release overpowering his control. 

The sound of your moans grew louder, yet not loud enough to reach the shore, your body tightening around him as you reached the peak of pleasure. With one final, deep thrust, Jake let go, his body shuddering as he filled you with his warmth, the feeling of your orgasm milking him dry. 

You clung to him, your breaths mingling as the waves of pleasure washed over both of you, leaving you both gasping for air and weak in the knees. The world around you ceased to exist as you both rode the waves of your climax, lost in the moment of pure, unbridled passion.

His face was buried in your hair, his breath hot on your neck as his chest heaved with exertion. He was silent for a moment, the only sounds the gentle lapping of the waves and the distant chatter of the others on the beach.

Finally, he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his gaze roaming over your face as if he was seeing you for the first time. You cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. 

He watched as your legs unwrapped from his waist, a pang of emptiness filling him as he felt you move away. Jake wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as his hands roamed over your body, tracing the lines and curves as if to memorize every inch of you. 

You press a soft kiss to his lips, one much less intense than your last few. Jake responded to the softer kiss with equal tenderness, his lips molding gently against yours. The intensity of the moment had subsided, replaced by a quieter, more intimate connection. 

He savored the feel of your mouth on his, the taste of your lips, the way your bodies fit seamlessly together. His hands held you close, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entry to deepen the connection further.

“Jake,” you murmur his name while pulling back, one hand going to retrieve your bikini top. “Can you tie this back on?” You hand him the small piece of fabric. 

Jake's eyes flutter open as you murmur his name, the sound of your voice sending a shiver down his spine. He watches as you hand him your bikini top, his fingers brushing against yours briefly before he takes it.

"Of course, darlin'" he replies, his voice still hoarse from the previous moments.

He stands in the water, holding the bikini top in his hands, his gaze lingering on your bare chest for a moment longer before he turns his attention to the task at hand. The gentleness of his touch sends a shiver down your back as you lean into his body. 

Jake's fingers move deftly as he ties the bikini top on your back, his hands brushing against your skin as he works. He can feel your body shiver under his touch, the reaction making his heart thump a little faster.

As he finishes tying the final knot, he lets his hands drift to your waist, holding you against him. His chin rests on your shoulder, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "Done, darlin'"

“Mm, thank you.” You pat his chest as you pull away from him, closing your eyes before you plunge into the cold saltwater. 

As soon as you ducked into the cold water, Jake's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back up to him. He pulled you tight against his chest, relishing the feel of your body pressed against his.

"Now, now, darlin'," he drawled, his voice dripping with charm. "We're not done just yet."

I nodded before turning on my heel and grabbing Maverick's usual drink. I've known Maverick my entire life, and I know his history with my father. That is the only reason why he is allowed to call me something like Junior.

"Here you go, Mav," I said as I put his beer in front of him.

He nodded appreciatively and kept small talk with me for about half an hour. He asked about nursing school and talked about how he was worried I didn't spend more time with friends. After he tried to encourage me to make more friends and have fun, he asked how things were with my dad.

A little while later, we got some new customers that instantly ruined my mood.

"And so it begins," I said under my breath as Maverick's group of trainees walked in. I glanced at Maverick to see him smiling sadly at me.

"You know," he said under his breath, "if they ever bother you, all you have to do is let me know."

"I know," I said with a small chuckle. My smile fell before I added, "I don't want them thinking you're giving me special treatment because of who my dad is."

Maverick reached over and put his hand on mine. "Y/N," he said gently, "the trainees don't know you're Iceman's daughter. Only Rooster and I know."

"Thanks, Uncle Mav." I paused before adding, "Just because I'm relieved that they don't know about him doesn't mean I'm ashamed of him."

"I know that," he said as he pulled his hand away. "I also know why you don't like pilots."

"I like you," I shrugged. "And Rooster and I have been friends our whole lives."

"True," Maverick smirked at me. "But that's different. We know about your past with your father. The other pilots don't."

We couldn't continue our conversation because Maverick's trainees started ordering drinks. Maverick stayed at the bar as the other pilots played pool and darts.

"Can I get another round of beers, Ice Jr?"

"Excuse me?" I stuttered. I glanced over at Maverick before looking back at Coyote.

"I asked for another round of beers," Coyote said with a big smile on his face.

"No, I heard that," I stuttered. "I meant. . . What did you call me?"

I ignored the fact that the other trainees were now paying attention to this conversation.

"Ice Jr," he repeated like it wasn't a big deal.

"Why would you call me that?" I asked, my heart sinking.

"Because," Coyote elongated, "you're Iceman's daughter."

My head snapped toward Maverick, who instantly put his hands up in defense. "I already told you," he worked to soothe, "I haven't told anyone who you are."

I looked and found my next suspect. When I found Rooster, he was scratching the back of his neck.

"I might have mentioned something about it," he forced a chuckle. His smile dropped when he saw the look on my face. "I didn't mean anything by it, Y/N," he said quickly.

I didn't want to hear the rest of his excuse, so I turned on my heel, walked out from behind the bar, and went to Penny's office. It didn't work because I could still hear them.

"Bradley," I heard Maverick sigh.

"What?" He asked. "I didn't. . ."

"Why didn't she want us to know?" Bob asked.

Maverick sighed again before explaining, "Look, Y/N had a difficult relationship with her father."

"What?"

"Difficult how?"

"Iceman wasn't around a lot," Maverick continued. "He missed a lot of important moments in Y/N's life. Eventually, it got too much. But a few years ago, when her dad was diagnosed with throat cancer, they started patching things up."

"Shouldn't that make her love pilots?" Hangman joked.

"It's more complicated than that," Rooster sighed.

"What does that mean?" Bob asked.

"Y/N has a rule," Maverick jumped in.

"What kind of rule?" Phoenix asked.

"After everything she went through with her father," Rooster explained, "and the pain she and her mom went through, Y/N made a rule that she would never date a pilot like her father."

"What?" All of the trainees exclaimed in sync.

"Look," Maverick cut them off, "being the loved one of a Navy pilot isn't easy. Y/N and her mother lived through every mission her father flew. They were constantly worried that he wouldn't come home. Spending your entire life worrying about whether or not someone you love will come home takes its toll on a young girl. Y/N made that rule to protect herself. She swore she'd never put herself through that kind of pain again. As your CO, I'm asking you to respect that."

* * * * *

I didn't see Maverick's Top Gun pilots for a few nights. When they came back, the way they treated me was drastically different than before they knew the truth. None of them said anything, but the pitiful looks and soft smiles gave them away.

"Hey, gorgeous."

"Don't call me that," I snapped at Hangman. I sighed before looking up at him. "What do you want to drink, Hangman?"

"You don't have to call me that," he said lightly.

"What do you want to drink, Seresin?"

"Jake," he corrected me with a smirk on his face.

He laughed when I walked away from him and helped another customer. Before walking back to Jake, I grabbed the beer he always ordered.

"Here," I said with no emotion in my voice as I put the beer in front of him.

"You remembered my beer," he said, his tone of voice making me roll my eyes and cross my arms over his chest.

"Not that hard," I mumbled. "You order the same beer every single time."

I unfolded my arms and grabbed the towel. I was about to walk away, but Jake grabbed my hand.

"Y/N," he said, his voice softening. I looked into his eyes, waiting for him to continue. He didn't, so I pulled my hand out of his.

"What, Seresin?" I asked harshly.

"I just wanted you to know that I'm. . ."

"That you're what?" I scoffed, cutting him off. "Are you trying to tell me that you're not like my father?"

"Well, I just. . ."

"I got news for you, Hangman," I said, changing my tone when I used his call sign. "I know all about Iceman and Maverick. I also know all about you, Hangman, and your back-and-forth with Rooster. I have two words for you."

"Oh?" He asked, a little bit of hope coming through.

"No thanks."

Jake Seresin didn't give up. He continued to force small talk whenever they came in for drinks. He even made up excuses to "pop by" in between flying their mission route.

One day, however, he took it to the next level.

I walked out of the bar after my shift, dying to soak in a hot bubble bath. I was halfway to my car before I realized who was waiting for me.

"It's been a long day, Sersin," I warned him. "I'm not in the mood."

"I know what you're doing."

"Oh?" I scoffed. "And what's that?"

"You're purposefully pushing me away because you don't want to put yourself through what you and your mother. . ."

"Stop!" I yelled, cutting him off. I walked over to him and stopped inches from him. When I spoke up, I said each word carefully and slowly so he could understand. "Don't you dare pretend to understand what my mother and I went through. I know you all idolize my father as a pilot, but me? All the Navy has ever done is take my father away from me. So excuse me for not wanting the Navy to take anyone else from me."

I started to walk away, but he spoke up.

"What if the Navy doesn't take them from you?"

I slowly turned back toward him. "You know," I sighed, "you're a lot like Iceman and Maverick back when they flew together. You think you're the best pilot. You've even got a kill under your belt. All impressive in the eyes of the Navy. But to me? All any of that means to me is that you wouldn't hesitate to put the Navy first."

"No, I wouldn't," he said firmly.

"Yeah," I said, not meaning for my voice to break. "You would."

"What if I promised to prove it to you?"

"I can't," I whispered, taking a small step away from him. "I'm sorry, Jake, but I can't set myself up for something that's only going to end in heartbreak."

* * * * *

"Y/N," Penny sighed when I walked into the bar. She jogged over to me and threw her arms around me. "Mav told me about your father. Honey, I'm so sorry."

My father passed away last night, surrounded by his family. When I woke up the next morning, I felt numb.

I slowly pulled out of her arms, but she didn't let me go.

"Honey, you don't have to be here," she whispered, looking softly into my eyes.

"Where else would I be?" I shrugged.

Penny and I opened the bar without saying anything else. A few hours later, Maverick walked in. He instantly came over to me and wrapped his arms around me. Still in his arms, I looked over his shoulder to see Rooster and the other trainees walking in.

"I can't do this with them," I mumbled as I pulled out of Maverick's arms.

"Go home."

Maverick and I turned to see Penny joining us behind the bar.

"Pen. . ."

"It's fine," she cut me off. "Honey, you should be at home with your mother. I can handle things here."

"I can't," I whispered. "There's nothing to do there but sit and. . . feel things."

"Honey," she sighed.

"I don't want to feel things, Pen," I said, hating that my voice broke.

"Okay," she said, studying me. "But," she added quickly, "if you ever need a minute to feel things, then you can use my office."

I didn't need to use her office, although I got close a couple of times when the trainees came up and ordered. They'd look at me with pity in their eyes, but wouldn't say anything. I could tell that each one of them wanted to give me their sympathies, but they held back.

A week later, it seemed like the entire Navy showed up for my father's funeral. Every one of the trainees was dressed in their suits so they could honor my father. I couldn't look at them because whenever I did, it filled my eyes with tears.

At the luncheon after the funeral, I purposefully put space between me and everyone else. I couldn't handle people coming up to me, expressing their own sorrow, and asking if they could do anything for me. They meant well, but I couldn't handle the pity. I was successful for the first hour. Until. . .

"Why are you hiding all the way over here?"

I looked over my shoulder to see Jake walking over to me.

"I can't handle the pitiful looks," I answered honestly. I turned back around and started picking at my nail polish. Jake walked over and sat next to me.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," I said under my breath. After a few minutes of silence, I added, "I just keep thinking. . ."

"About?" He gently pushed.

"At least I fixed my relationship with my father before he. . ."

I couldn't say it.

I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath. When Jake reached over and pulled me so my head was leaning on his shoulder, I didn't stop him.

"At least you fixed your relationship with your father before he died," he finished for me, his voice soft. "Your father was a great man, Y/N."

"I know that," I snapped, jumping out of his embrace. "Why does everyone think just because I hated the fact that the Navy took my father from me, it means I hated him? I never hated my father, Hangman."

My voice broke when I said that last sentence. When Jake heard it, he scooted closer to me, closing the gap between us that I created. He gently grabbed my hands and lowered his voice.

"I never believed, and will never believe, that you hated your father, Y/N."

"I don't," I defended myself, my voice weak.

"I know," he said instantly.

"I have never hated my dad, Jake," my voice broke. "I love him."

Jake pulled me into his chest when the tears started falling. Without wanting to, I sobbed into Jake's chest. He comforted me by gently rubbing my back and running his fingers through my hair.

"I know that you love him," Jake whispered. "I also know that your father loved you. And I know that you are worried another pilot will break your heart. But what if. . ."

"I can't. . ." I stuttered, cutting him off. I pulled out of his arms.

"Y/N," he whispered. "Please let me in."

"I can't," I repeated. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"I'm not asking you to instantly jump into a relationship with me," he said gently.

"Then what are you asking?"

He reached over and gently grabbed my hands. "I'm asking you to let me in just a little. Just enough for you to start to get to know me. And if, after you get to know me, there's any chance that you would want to jump into a relationship with me, just know that I'll catch you."

I finally looked at him to see him looking at me with something in his eyes that made my whole body heat up.

And it scared me.

"I can't tell you when that will be," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"That's okay," he soothed. "I can wait."

"I'm not worth the wait."

He smiled softly at me before saying simply, "I respectfully disagree."

We sat there for a few more beats before I looked away from him. I cleared my throat and pulled at the skirt of my dress before standing up.

"I should get back to my mom."

"Y/N, wait," he said, gently grabbing my wrist and stopping me. I hesitated before looking up at him. "If you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to call me."

* * * * *

The next two weeks dragged on in a haze. I was numb as I went through my classes. I was numb as I served drinks. I was even numb when Jake continued to try and flirt with me. After the funeral, however, he wasn't as pushy, and he started each interaction by asking how I was doing.

I never answered him honestly, though. I just shrugged and said I was fine. It was clear that he didn't believe me, but he didn't push me. Even Penny noticed that he was trying extra hard to be my friend.

To be honest, it was working. To be more honest, I hated that it was working. I hated that I looked forward to seeing him walk into the Hard Deck. I hated how the nights he didn't show up dragged on and felt empty. I hated that when he did show up, my heart skipped a beat as he sat at the bar. I hated the feeling of disappointment that filled me when he had to leave because of his Navy curfew.

Mostly, I hated that I was starting to trust him.

After my shift dragged on, I got in my car and started driving home. I was halfway there when my car broke down. I got out, opened my trunk, but froze. The longer I stared at my car's engine, the harder it was to stop the tears. With shaky hands and tears in my eyes, I grabbed my phone.

"Hey, Y/N," Jake greeted. The second I heard his voice, a small whimper slipped out of my throat. "What's wrong, Y/N?" He instantly asked, his tone changing.

"My car broke down," I said between small sobs.

"Okay," he said gently, but I cut him off.

"My dad always fixed my car. I can't. . . I don't have him around anymore to come help me."

The second I got that out, my small sob became a big one. Jake let me cry for a little while before speaking up.

"It's okay," he said gently. "Y/N, I can come help you. Do you want me to come help you?"

"Won't you. . . You have a curfew," I stuttered. "Won't you get in trouble?"

"I can talk to Maverick," he instantly fixed. "He'll understand."

I thought about it before whispering, "Okay."

"Okay," Jake repeated. "Y/N, where are you? I'll come pick you up."

"I'm halfway home," I whimpered.

"I'm on my way."

It didn't take long for Jake to find me. I was sitting on the curb when he pulled up. He jumped out of his car and jogged over to me. I stood up and gasped when he pulled me into his arms. It was then that I realized I still had tears streaming down my face.

"Do you want me to take you home?" He whispered.

"No," I whimpered, pulling out of his arms. "I can't. . . I can't go there."

"Why not, Y/N?" He asked gently. I hesitated to tell him why it had been hard to go home the last two weeks.

I sighed before finally admitting, "I don't want to be around all of my memories anymore."

I held my breath as I waited for him to respond. My answer made his expression drop. He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering for a second before falling back to his side.

"Well," he said slowly, "we could go to my Navy apartment. Is that okay?"

I thought about his offer. A few months ago, I would've slapped him for offering. But now?

"I'm okay with that."

* * * * *

We drove in silence. The only sound between the two of us was the soft radio. Jake continually looked at me, but I didn't return any of them. I kept my eyes on the window, watching the town go by.

"Thank you," Jake said softly, breaking the silence.

"For what?" I asked without looking at him.

"For trusting me enough to call me," he said, glancing at me. This time, I looked back. "You could've called Maverick or even Rooster. Do you mind me asking why you called me?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I could've called Maverick or Rooster. . . I guess I should've called Maverick or Rooster. I'm sorry, Jake."

"I didn't mean. . ." He stuttered. "Y/N, I'm glad you called me. I wanted you to call me."

"I didn't really think about it," I mumbled. "I just. . . I just called you."

Jake reached over and grabbed my hand, gently intertwining our fingers.

"I'm glad you called me, Y/N," he repeated softly. "Tomorrow, we can send a tow truck to your car and. . ."

I took a shaky breath, making Jake stop talking. He glanced at me and saw the tears in my eyes.

"I'll handle it tomorrow," he whispered.

We were quiet the rest of the way to his Navy apartment. We got out of his car, and I followed him up to his apartment. The minute I walked in, I wrapped my arms around myself.

"You hungry?" He offered as he locked the door behind us.

"No," I said softly.

"Okay," Jake said, studying me. "We could watch a movie."

"I don't know what I want to do," I admitted. Jake walked over and gently grabbed my hands. I looked into his eyes and waited for him to say something, but he didn't. He just looked at me.

Finally, he sighed and let go of one of my hands. With the one he was still holding, he gently pulled me over to the couch.

"Tell me about your dad."

"What?" I gasped. "Why would I. . . Why do you want to know about him?"

"Because I think you need to talk about him," he said gently. "It might help you get through all of this."

I studied him, trying to figure out if there was some angle he was trying to hit by talking to me about all of this.

"When I was little," I started to slowly open up, "my dad was my whole world. But after a few too many missed dinners, birthdays, and graduations, I realized he wasn't as stable a world as I needed. I grew up and learned to stop letting people in. . . If that makes sense."

"It does," he nodded.

We ended up spending the next two hours talking about my dad. Jake asked questions about my dad and Maverick back when they were our age. We spent a lot of time talking about that.

Throughout the conversation, I couldn't stop my curiosity rising as to why. When I first met Jake, his 'Hangman' callsign made complete sense to me. But now. . .

"Why are you doing all of this?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"Why am I being nice to you?" He asked gently. I nodded. He thought about his answer before saying, "I'm being nice because I want to make sure that you know that you're not alone."

"I know that," I whispered.

"You know that Maverick will always be there for you," he agreed. "You know that Rooster will always be there for you. I want to make sure that you know that I will always be there for you, Y/N. All you got to do is let me in."

"I can't," I said, my voice breaking. "I can't risk letting you in. . . just to lose you."

"You don't know that you're going to lose me," he whispered, scooting closer to me. "You don't know that letting me in is risky."

"You're a pilot, Jake."

"I know," he sighed. He slowly reached up and gently touched my chin. "You're right, Y/N. Letting me in would be risky. But I like to think I'm worth the risk. Please let me be worth the risk for you."

Tension was heavy as Jake slowly leaned in, pressing his lips gently to mine. He didn't push things, and I soon realized it was because he was letting me set our pace. When I realized this, I grabbed his face and deepened the kiss.

Once I set the pace, neither one of us stopped it.

* * * * *

I woke up the next morning in Jake's bed. I rolled over, expecting to see him asleep next to me, but he wasn't. I sat up and was overcome with this horrible feeling. As I sat on his bed with the blanket clutched to my chest, that horrible feeling caused a horrible thought to pop into my head.

Hangman got what he wanted last night.

With tears filling my eyes, I got out of Jake's bed. I struggled to hold the tears back as I collected my clothes that Jake discarded last night. I put them on and pulled my hair back into a messy bun.

I was about to leave his room but froze when I remembered that my car was abandoned halfway between the Hard Deck and my apartment. A rush of embarrassment hit me as I slowly opened his bedroom door.

When I walked out of his bedroom and down the hall, I found Jake in the kitchen. My heart felt like it melted when I saw that he was cooking pancakes.

"You're still here," I stuttered.

"Of course I am," he chuckled with his back to me.

He glanced over his shoulder at me and froze when he saw the expression on my face. He put down the spatula and jogged over to me. When he got to me, he gently grabbed my arms and started rubbing them.

"Did you think I left you?" He asked, lowering his voice. "Just like that?"

"I didn't. . . I thought. . . I woke up, and you were gone," I finally got out. "What was I supposed to think?"

Still holding my arms, Jake leaned in and gently kissed me. He broke the kiss and kept his forehead pressed to mine.

"I meant it last night," he whispered. He leaned back before continuing, "I know letting me in is a risk, but I will always be there for you. No matter what. All I need you to do is break your rule."

He paused as he waited for my response. If I was honest with myself, a part of me wanted to break my rule. But the other part of me saw how many times my mother's heart broke.

"Jake," I whispered his name.

"Please, Y/N," he begged. "Let me in."

"Jake, I. . ."

"Break your rule for me, Y/N. Please," he whispered. "Break your rule, and I promise that it'll be worth the risk."

The look of desperation in his eyes made the wall around my heart weaken.

"If you ever break my heart. . ." I started to threaten. I giggled when he grabbed my face and pressed his lips to mine. Our lips moved in sync as we wrapped our arms around each other.

"I won't," he moaned, breaking the kiss. "I swear, Y/N. I will do everything I can to make sure I don't break your heart. Breaking your rule will be worth it."

Part 2

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@football1921

The fluorescent glow of the studio lights hummed, a stark contrast to the thrilling chaos of the Twisters set Glen and I had visited just weeks ago. I sat on my usual stool, just out of frame, the camera’s red ‘record’ light a steady, reassuring pulse next to my ear. Today’s interview was with Daisy Edgar-Jones, Glen’s co-star, and the air was light, almost buzzing with the energy of a successful movie run. Twisters had blown up, not just at the box office, but across every social media platform imaginable. Everyone was talking about it.

Glen, perched comfortably on a plush armchair, his usual Texan charm turned up to eleven, grinned at Daisy. She sat opposite him, her posture elegant, a thoughtful smile playing on her lips. From my vantage point, they looked… good together. Professionally good, of course. They had an easy camaraderie, a shared experience etched into their expressions that only comes from months of intense work.

“Daisy, welcome! Thanks for joining us,” Glen began, his voice warm and inviting. “So, Twisters has been absolutely insane. The fan reaction, the box office – were you prepared for this kind of whirlwind?”

Daisy chuckled, a soft, melodic sound. “Oh, Glen, no one could truly prepare for it, could they? It’s been incredible, really. Getting to bring such an epic story to life, and with such a fantastic team… it’s been a dream.” She glanced at him, a genuine appreciation in her eyes. “And working with you was certainly an adventure.”

Glen’s smile widened, a flash of genuine delight. “The adventure was all mine, my friend. Seriously, though, what was the most surprising thing about filming in those conditions? The practical effects for the tornadoes were just mind-blowing.”

“Definitely the sheer scale of everything,” Daisy responded, her brow furrowing slightly in thought, “and the dedication of everyone involved. You know, I’ve always been drawn to stories that connect us to the raw power of nature, and this film really hammered that home. It’s humbling, isn’t it?”

Glen agreed, nodding. “It makes you think about how small we are. And speaking of raw power, your performance, Daisy, was incredible.”

Glen had his energetic explanations and self-deprecating jokes that made her comfortable. Daisy, with her thoughtful responses and quiet intensity, brought a different kind of warmth. Every now and then, Glen would lean forward, his eyes alight with passion for the project, and Daisy would meet his gaze, a respectful understanding passing between them.

I knew Glen. I knew his public persona was naturally magnetic, designed to make everyone feel included, to make them laugh. He was a “living stress antidote,” as one magazine put it, and it was true. Off-camera, that same vibrant energy often focused on me, on our life together. But watching him now, through the lens of a camera I was operating, it felt… different. Or maybe it was just my perspective shifting.

The interview wrapped up, handshakes exchanged, and Glen immediately turned to me, his smile softening. “Alright, Y/n. How’d we do?”

“Perfect, Glen. You two were great,” I said, giving him a thumbs-up, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. My stomach, however, was starting to churn.

Glen and I had left the studio afterwards and grabbed some dinner from a restaurant close to his apartment. The entire time I was able to not show on my face how much that interview today kinda threw me for a loop. And thankfully he didn't notice until we got back home that is.

Later that evening, the internet was a wildfire. I’d seen it coming, a slow burn during the interview, and now a raging inferno. My phone buzzed relentlessly with notifications, not just from my own social media, but from the various fan accounts I followed, the entertainment news sites, the gossip pages.

“Glen and Daisy in ‘Twisters’ interview: Their chemistry is undeniable!”

“New IT couple alert? Glen Powell and Daisy Edgar-Jones set the internet ablaze.”

“The way he looks at her… it’s giving sparks!”

“Forget the tornadoes, the real storm is the love triangle. #GlenAndDaisy”

I scrolled, my thumb numb, past endless GIFs of them laughing, stills of their shared glances, edited videos set to romantic music. Comments piled up:

“They need to just get married already.”

“This is the real romance. Sorry to his rumored girlfriend, but…”

“He’s never looked this happy with anyone else.”

“Daisy’s just so sweet and grounded, perfect for Glen’s wild energy.”

My breath hitched. Rumored girlfriend. That was me. Y/n. The one who watched him climb trees on set just to get a better view, the one who cooked with him in our kitchen while Brisket snored at our feet, the one he called every night to recap his day. I felt a cold knot tighten in my chest.

Daisy was kind, thoughtful and had that quiet beauty about her. She was everything the internet was describing as ‘perfect’ for Glen. And me? I was just… me.

Suddenly, my own confidence felt like a flimsy paper kite caught in the wind. I knew Glen loved me. I believed it with every fiber of my being. But seeing it twisted and compared by thousands of strangers, it chipped away at my certainty. And I have never been insecure of myself in my life, my parents raised me to love every part of myself and not care about what others think.

That didn’t change when I started dating Glen - until tonight while I was laying on the couch scrolling through my phone with a grim expression. Brisket, our scruffy Terrier/Poodle mix, was curled up on the rug, oblivious. Glen’s face was still alight from the day, that infectious optimism radiating off him. He’d just finished a call with his agent.

“Hey, stranger,” he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer to his side when he sat on the couch. “You’ve been quiet since we got back. Everything alright? That interview was a blast, right? Daisy’s a pro.”

He tried to give me a playful nudge, but I flinched, pulling my phone closer. “Uh - Yeah. I’m just tired.”

He sat back, his brow furrowing slightly. His usual easy smile faded, replaced by that keen observant look he reserved for me when he sensed something was truly off. “Y/n? What’s going on? You’re acting… different.”

I sighed, a long shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “It’s… nothing, Glen - Glen, no!” I tried to dismiss it, but the lump in my throat was too big.

He gently pried my phone from my hand, his eyes quickly scanning the screen. He saw the headlines, the comments. His jaw tightened, and he let out a soft groan. “Ah, here we go.” He put the phone down on the coffee table, then turned fully towards me, taking both my hands in his.

“Glen, it’s really nothing. I swear.”

“Talk to me,” he urged, his voice soft but firm. “What are you thinking? What are you feeling?”

“It’s stupid, really,” I mumbled, with some tears welling in my eyes. “It’s just… the comments. Everyone’s saying you and Daisy… that you’d be perfect together. That you have this ‘undeniable chemistry,’ that you’ve never looked happier. Am I… not enough, Glen? I know it’s just acting, and I know your public persona is amazing, but… is there a part of you that wishes it was real?”

The words tumbled out, raw and vulnerable, expressing the insecurities I’d been battling all evening. I braced myself for… I don’t know what. A laugh? A dismissive wave of the hand.

Instead, Glen pulled me into a tight hug, his arms strong around me. He held me for a long moment, letting me breathe into his familiar scent – a mix of his cologne and something uniquely Glen. Then he pulled back slightly, holding my face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking my cheeks. His eyes, usually dancing with amusement or ambition, were serious, full of a fierce intensity that was solely for me.

“Y/n, Look at me.”

“Glen-“

“You’re telling me that a bunch of internet strangers, who spend their lives shipping actors because they like a movie, somehow know more about my heart than I do?” He shook his head, a small, disbelieving laugh escaping him. “That they know more about us than we do?”

“I don’t know. I mean you and Daisy seem to have good chemistry on and off screen so-“

“Listen closely, because this is the truth. Why would I care about rumors when I know the truth? The truth, Y/n, is that Daisy is an incredible talent. She’s kind, she’s thoughtful, she’s dedicated. And we had amazing professional chemistry, because that’s what actors do. We create connections on screen to tell a story. But that’s where it ends.” He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine. Until he eventually pulled back just enough to look at me again. “The truth is you’re the one who understands my ridiculous need for Texas football. You’re the one who laughs at my bad cooking experiments and still pretends they’re edible. You’re the one who knows which exact spot Brisket likes to be scratched to get that little leg twitch. You’re the one I come home to. Not my co-star.”

“I’m sorry for getting so emotional about this.” Raising one of my hands over my eyes I wiped away the tears that had fallen down my face.

His hands moved from my face to cup the back of my neck, drawing me closer. “You didn’t have to impress anyone to earn your place in my life, Y/n. You are the calm in my storm, the home I always want to come back to after all the whirlwind. My life with you? That’s not a performance. That’s my reality.”

“You, Y/n,” he whispered, his lips brushing mine, “are the one for me and I love you.”