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shiroi---kumo · 7 months

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⚠︎ I HAVE VIDEO FROM THE LAST EPISODE IN THIS POST SO IT HAS SPOILERS IN IT. NOW YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED ⚠︎

There lots of video throughout the series in this post because I need to make a point.

HEY I just remembered a thing I was going to ramble about here a couple of days ago but I was tired after work so I forgot.

But we need to talk about something important here and that is ->

Kumo's Voice

Firstly, when one watches the series - when you first hear this man and for most of the series, while he speaks little (due to poor company) when he does talk he almost always speaks in near monotone.

See here:

Kumo speaks in damn near monotone for most of the series BECAUSE he is purposely forcing his emotions into a tiny bottle and trying not to feel ANYTHING due to how Chaos functions.

Kumo's voice is mostly monotone ON PURPOSE.

Chaos, the main enemy of the series and who the Unlimited are charged with fighting this eternal fight with - is a god like being that is basically darkness incarnate.

Chaos gains power by feeding on the negative emotions of living beings.

So the Unlimited both took an extremely different approach to how they were going to address this fact in the terms of their shared enemy.

Kaze - continued to brew in hatred and rage and basically just decided fuck chaos and that he wouldn't try not to feel those things because Chaos could choke on it.

Kumo - decided to handle this fact by shutting down every single emotional system he could ever possess - including the good ones - and decided that the best way to address this aspect of his enemy was to never feel anything ever again.

AKA

Kaze at "I don't fucking care about how Chaos feeds. Chaos can take my rage and choke on it." Kumo at "Can't feed off of my emotions if I don't have any."

Needless to say this went very very poorly for the Cloud.

As the series progresses you can hear the emotion come back into his voice little by little and then his brother shows up and all bets are off - the whole episode is a mess and we get this by the end of it:

Kumo's entire voice shifts the next time we see him to pure growling.

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And from here he turns into a snarky asshole when encountering Kaze:

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To becoming soft and polite with the main party and protective at the end of everything and sort of turning back to his actual voice by the last episodes - >

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And I want you to take a minute and compare that "Get out of here!" to the previous "Heed my words, all of you. None of you will ever stand a chance against The Earl." From episode 4.

This is 20 episodes later.

Shit has happened. Kumo is not the same man he was when the series started. He's taken certain masks he was holding himself to and thrown them in the fucking trash. He's done with a certain level of bullshit and he's just not playing games anymore at this point.

Oh but then we get to THIS

(and this my friends is the last episode, so it is the most spoilery thing I can give you even though there's really no context to it)

We get to this RANGE in this man's voice - who has been damn near monotone and almost emotionless for the entire fucking series. We get to fucking THIS and I desperately need you to listen to this to hear him go from the first couple videos to THIS.

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Kumo goes from dead monotone to THIS by the end of the animated series all because of all the shit that goes down and all the things about him that CHANGE. I can only imagine had After / After Spiral / After 2 gotten animated - the man's range would have gotten out even more.

My point in all this is - Kumo will destroy parts of himself in order to protect himself and the people around him and his voice is a prime example of that.

I'm also saying this because Kumo did something no one in his life currently has really caught him on yet or thought about.

Kumo destroyed his Misterican accent in the name of survival.

Living in Gaudium under The Earl / Chaos - meant Misterican was considered "speaking improperly" so not only did he need to learn Wonderlandian - he needed to learn to speak it with a Wonderlandian accent.

It wasn't like when he lived on Windaria with Kaze - no he can speak fluent Windarian but he speaks it with a Misterican accent - because he's Misterican.

Misterican speaks a lot from behind the ears and rolling Rs and rolling sounds in general. It'll come from the lower throat and the nose and it is fucking fast. There are some words that are words but are said in a way that makes them more of a sound and less of a word.

Kumo's accent that he should have from speaking his mother tongue is gone. He spent years destroying his own voice, just so he would be deemed as more acceptable to the people he was living with.

AKA Chaos and Company. His greatest enemy.

And then he took it a step further and after he tore his heritage out of his voice, he tore the emotion out of it too.

All in the name of survival and protecting those around him. Chaos can't pull power from his emotions if he doesn't have any and he can't get in trouble if he's not speaking "incorrectly".

This is part of why I keep saying that all of Kumo's words are important. It's not just in choice but in how they sound. The time in the last year he's been out of Gaudium has allowed the emotion to start to really settle in his tone again and thanks to the help of some people around him getting him to fall back in love with his mother tongue, his accent is just starting to peek back out too.

Audio for Kumo's untranslated name:

Valkoinen Pilvi

#the mist in my soul || headcanon #topic: a prince's life #topic: kumo's voice #topic: wonderland #topic: chaos #topic: misterican language #tw; long post #tw; abuse #tw; self abuse #tw; emotional abuse #ffu spoilers #tw; all caps

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

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And In The Middle of My Chaos There Was You

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: You're a Naval Aviator at Top Gun, and you finally feel like your career is progressing. Sure, you have to fight to be heard and avoid being disregarded because you're a woman, but that's par for the course at this point in time. If only the men in your cohort weren't so pissy at being beaten by a girl. What will you do when you find yourself facing a situation you've only heard of in the news? Is your knight in shining armor, actually that? Or does he want to take advantage of you at your lowest?

Disclaimers: Female!Reader, All the warning above!

Warnings: There are quite a few warnings on this one! Near sexual assault, misogyny, Male chauvinist pigs, Hurt/Comfort, Jake is a dick at first, Sex, Angst, Crying

As a reminder, everyone's experiences are different. Everyone's experiences are valid. This is a fictional story.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU CONSUME ON THE INTERNET. PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS FIC IF IT IS TRIGGERING TO YOU IN ANY WAY.

Word Count: 4872

A/N: I'm insatiable, and I swear I need to be stopped. I have three WIPs shaking a spear at the writer avatar of myself in my brain right now, and I'm still churning out one-shots like this one. Top Gun Brain-Rot: 1, Star: -100

I was a little hesitant to post it because it's different from other things I've written, and I hope I've handled this sensitive topic wisely. This was an incredibly hard fic to write because of the topic.

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

The US Navy's Naval Fighter Weapons School, colloquially known as Top Gun, is the most selective program you can be selected for as a Naval Aviator, and you've finally made it. You've worked hard to get to this spot in your career. You've put in countless hours of training, learned from every single one of your mistakes, and perfected the flying style that gained you the callsign Hummingbird. Point being, you're good, you're damned good, and you're going to prove it. You've got an itch under your skin, goading you to fight for that trophy. You need it. You've been fighting the shackles of male dominance since you decided to become a fighter pilot, and this is what will prove to them you're where you belong.

The only problem is there are nineteen or so other pilots in your class all with the same urge bubbling under their skin. The worst of the lot is Jake Seresin, callsign Hangman. He'd been gentlemanly at first, opening doors for you, handing you your pen when you dropped it during lectures, not flirty, but nice. Then you'd gone up against him on the first hop and smoked him. You'd been the only person in your cohort to beat the Hangman. After that, when your name and callsign had been at the top of the rankings, the gentleman schtick had been shredded and discarded faster than a tissue in a windstorm.

He’s now the ringleader of a group of five or six men in your cohort who seem hell bent on bringing you down. It’s obvious by now to them that they can’t do it while you’re flying. So they try to be intimidating, peacocking and talking shit and looming over you like their physical presence alone would be enough to knock you from the rankings. You’ve heard it all.

“It’s because she’s pretty, y’know, boys?” His Texan drawl had spit those words out in the hallway in front of the locker rooms two weeks ago. “She must be fucking Admiral Simpson. There is no way she’d be at Top Gun otherwise, not how she flies.”

It was so fucking easy for them to say that. It’s the only thought in your mind as you keep your face blank and muscle your way through the group of them on your way to and from the locker room every day. They don’t have a glass ceiling they need to shatter to be heard. They can just open their dumb mouths and the world falls at their feet. You and Phoenix, in the meanwhile, the only two women in your cohort, have to go above and beyond. It’s your hard work and nothing else that got you to Top Gun. So why does it feel like a hollow victory whenever you out-perform on a hop and have to hear the vitriol pouring out of Hangman’s mouth? You’d thought there was at least one man you’d never have to worry about. Boy were you wrong.

Today was the day of hop 25. You hadn’t smoked all the boys in this one, and you knew it was because it exploited all of your weaknesses in the air. Hangman hadn’t given up the opportunity to hold his success over you either. He’d been in your space all day, and all you wanted to do was go for a run, take a hot bath and order greasy chinese takeout so you could stuff your face. Your failure feels like a blanket coating your skin as you tie your sneakers and pop your headphones into your ears.

It’s only a few minutes before you’re jogging down the beach. It’s a beautiful day and with each slap of your sneakered feet against the pavement you can feel your disappointment and anger melt away. Soon the only thing in your head is the rush of endorphins and your steady breathing. You’re about four miles away from your quarters on base when you finally stop running. Your legs feel like jelly as you drop to sit on the sun-warmed sand and chug some water. The beach has to be your favorite part of living in San Diego, at least temporarily. Being able to just sit in the hot sand and watch the pounding waves always takes you out of your head in a way that only alcohol and orgasms have before.

You’re startled out of your meditative state when a series of shadows blot out the sunlight in front of you. It’s three men staring at you. Their gazes are predatory, gazes heavy over your exposed legs, shoulders and midriff.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?” The first man’s voice sends shivers down your spine as you scramble to your feet. They’re about six inches away from you, but as you stand, you soon find yourself surrounded. A hand clasps your upper arm as the ringleader crowds into your space. You can smell beer on his breath and see unknown greenery in his teeth as he leers down at you. You can smell the sour scent of his sweat as he looms over you, corpulent and disgusting. All the hair on your body is standing on end as you try and fail to summon all of the confidence that you exhibit when you’re in a fighter jet. The ringleader’s ham hands plant on your waist, and that’s when your fight and flight response kicks in. You shove the other men’s hands off of you, throwing your metal water bottle into one of their faces for good measure. Then you kick the ringleader right in his family jewels. He falls with a satisfying thud and groan of pain and you’re left to try and run away.

Your adrenaline pounds as you jolt across the beach. You’re screaming at the top of your lungs with each step you take. You only get a few steps away before you’re stopped by a vicious yank to your hair. Your eyes water as you try to kick the men away. There’s a man holding your arms behind your back when you’re dragged back to the leader. His jaw is still clenched, face red and dripping sweat as he cradles his balls and tries to catch his breath.

“We’ve got a live one, don’t we gentlemen? Now why don’t we see what she has going on under that itty bitty sports bra. You’re just a little slut, aren’t you? Running down the beach in those tiny clothes?” You’re struggling when that hand rips your sports bra at one of the straps, but before he can put his hands on your skin, he’s being pushed away. His goons drop their grasp of you to go help the ringleader and you collapse to the sand clutching your tattered bra to you and watch your savior fight them off. It’s Jake! He’s already knocked the leader out and your heart is in your throat as you watch his fight with the other men. The struggle has brought other people to the sand and even the police. It’s a relief when the police officers handcuff the men and walk them away.

You’re just staring blankly into the ocean water when you feel soft fabric being handed to you. It’s Jake and he’s looking at you like he’s never seen you before.

“Hey, Hummingbird. Can you wear that for me, sweetheart? It’s getting cold out here. I talked to the police officers for you and gave them your contact info. They want to see us tomorrow.”

His first words send hot droplets of tears welling from your eyes. How can you do this? Be Hummingbird, the woman who can outfly any man on base while being the fragile creature you feel like right now? You note distantly how his face falls as you sob before him. His hands are gentle as he helps you put your arms into the sleeves of the shirt and buttons it until you’re decent.

“I’m going to hug you, sweetheart. Is that ok?” Your nod is barely a bob of your chin when he wraps his arms around you. You’re crushed against his broad chest and as you curl into his skin you can’t help crying harder. He’s safe. Jake’s safe and he’s going to keep you that way. You don’t know where that bone deep surety came from. He hates you and he’s your rival. But you don't care right now.

All you can feel is his bare skin. You can hear the beat of his heart as he positions you on his lap and feel his hands as he wraps them carefully around your waist. The gentle caress makes you sob harder as you nearly scream into his bare chest. You feel scraped raw, like those men had robbed you of everything you are. It’s nearly dark out when your tears finally run out. In the half light on the beach you can barely see the man you’re curled into, but you can feel the steady whooshing of his breath as he holds you as long as you need.

Your voice is soft and hoarse as you pull away, “Thank you, Jake. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. I have sisters. I did what I would’ve wanted any other man to do for them.” You can see his jaw clench in the half-light as he nearly growls the words. “Did they hurt you?”

“The big one, he pulled my hair.” You can’t stop the catch in your throat as you think of what he did to you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let me take you home?” He cradles the back of your head gently, long fingers probing the tender parts to ensure you’re not seriously hurt.

“Okay.” You’re still unable to look him in the eye as he slips you off of his lap and helps you stand. His hand is huge as he carefully envelops your hand in his own and walks you to his truck.

“Y’drove here?” Your voice is slurring, exhaustion haunting every movement as the fear and adrenaline fade away.

“Yeah, baby. I was going to grab dinner with a friend at a restaurant a bit up the beach. I always park here and walk up the beach to get there.”

“M’sorry, Jake. I spoiled your plans.” Your voice is quivering again as you wrap your arms around your waist.

“No. You didn’t, baby. Keeping you safe means more than canceled dinner plans.” He pulls the door open and carefully helps you into the cab.

Your heart is pounding. Jake Seresin is being sweet to you. He let you cry in his arms, he saved you from sexual assault, and now he’s making sure you get home safe.

“Your quarters are on base, right?” His voice is gentle as he tries to find your frazzled thoughts.

An irrational jolt of fear pulses through you at the thought, and you can’t keep yourself from letting the words from spilling past your lips. “Yeah, but I don’t want to go there. Please, I don’t think I can be alone right now.”

“That’s understandable sweetheart. I’ve been living in my brother’s apartment off base. Can I take you there?”

“Yes, please.” His jaw is clenched as he drives. You’ve shoved your shoes off and are curled up in the big bucket seat as you watch the light play over his face. It’s silent as he drives the truck and you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you know is you’re being carried carefully up a set of stairs.

“Jake?” Your arm is curled around his neck as he carefully carries you.

“You awake, baby?” He sets you carefully down on his front door mat as he unlocks the door and ushers you in. You’re a little curious as to how he lives, because even after a fistfight on the beach, there isn’t a hair out of place on his head. It’s a bachelor’s apartment, but clearly lived in. There’s a throw over the back of the sofa and a couple of dishes in the sink. When you stop your slow examination, you see Jake leaning against the kitchen counter. He’s smirking gently.

“Like what you see, baby?”

“It’s not what I’d expect from you, Seresin.” Your voice is straining to be light as you smile half-heartedly at him.

“Oh yeah?” His voice contains a shade of the normal teasing he usually uses with you. “What would you expect of me?”

Your voice is bitter and harsh as you chuckle mirthlessly, “Not a knight in shining armor, that’s for sure. The worst part is, I don’t even know what to think. You were nice in the beginning. Then overnight you turned into the biggest dick I’ve ever met. Why didn't you let them do whatever they wanted? You hate me anyways. If they did what they wanted to, I'd have probably dropped out and you could've gotten Top Gun.”

You’re not expecting the joy to leave his eyes. He’s serious now. You’re not looking at Jake Seresin anymore. This is Hangman. You can’t help the gasp as he tugs you towards him before he spins the two of you until you’re caged between the island counter and his body. His voice is a barely restrained growl as he looks at you.

“I want to win Top Gun fighting against you the whole way. Darlin', I don't hate you and I never meant a thing I said. I was just trying to get into your head. Not degrade your sense of self. Truthfully, you're the most captivating, intelligent, sweet-hearted, gorgeous woman I've ever met.”

Your heart is in your throat as you glance up at him. Each breath has your chest brushing against his.

“Never question why I saved you. You are the best of the best. This is just a blip in your career. Tomorrow we'll go give your statement to the police and get those asswipes all locked up. Then, you’re going to kick our cohort’s asses, mine included, and accept that trophy. And I’ll be cheering for you every step of the way.” He’s so close to you that you can see the different variations of mossy green swimming in his captivating eyes, and especially how he keeps looking at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Your voice is gentle as you cup his jaw, “make me forget what it feels like to have their hands on my skin.”

The first tender press of his lips to yours has you gasping, wrapping your arms around his neck as you melt into his embrace. His hands are gentle as he lifts you onto one of the barstools, tracing gentle patterns on your ribs as he slides his hands under the shirt he’d given you. You’re panting as he finds the torn fabric of your sports bra. Each gentle press of his fingers has your cunt clenching in need as he chases the phantoms of the unfriendly touches away.

“Can I take this off, sweetheart?” Your nod is gentle as you unwind your arms from around his neck. You shudder as he slips each button out of its hole and moan appreciatively when he finally pushes the entire garment off of you. You’re left with only the torn sports bra covering your breats and even that’s off shortly. His eyes are hungry as he gazes over the expanse of your skin laid bare for him. Jake drags you into another all-consuming kiss as his hands send heat shooting across your skin. His lips trail hot down your throat, laving across your pulse point before trailing wetly across your breasts. They latch onto one of your nipples, nuzzling, licking and sucking before he places another kiss to your mouth.

“Can I take you to the shower, sweetheart? We’re both covered in sand. Let me make you feel good in the shower.” His voice is a purr against your ear as his hands cup your ass.

“Yes! Please!” Your voice is breathy and high pitched as he picks you up. Faced with his hot skin against yours again, you can’t resist peppering kisses of your own across his shoulders, and collar bone. You feel delirious, swept up in the thrall of his warmth and the scent of his skin, something citrusy and light but woody with a touch of musk. Jake’s arms are like steel cages around you, but you’d like nothing more than to stay in them forever. That feeling of safety courses over your skin with each step.

He sets you on the bathroom counter, leaving your skin exposed to the cool air as he turns the shower on before stepping in between your parted legs. It’s in the bathroom light that you finally get to explore the full expanse of his bare torso. You’ve seen Jake topless before, when you’d been dragged out to compulsory cohort bonding activities on the beach. You’d marveled at the play of light over his torso and the light dusting of soft hair a shade or two darker than on his head, thankful that your sunglasses hid your gaze. But here, when it’s just the two of you, you let your eyes drink their fill. When your eyes drift back to his, there’s an amused glint in his eyes.

“D’you like what you see, sweetheart?” His hands find your ass, calloused fingers dipping below the band of your exercise shorts as he slowly begins to nudge the fabric down. You can feel the heat rising to your face as he exposes your sodden core to his gaze before discarding both the shorts and your panties to the floor at his feet. He wraps his arms around your hips before blowing a stream of air over your sensitive folds. It has your bare skin goosing with pleasure as he presses a kiss against each calf before stepping back so you can hop off the counter. Now you can see the considerable bulge in his exercise shorts. You can’t resist trailing your finger gently over it before stepping into the shower, calling over your shoulder, “I love what I see, Flyboy. Now are you joining me or are you going to stand there and look pretty?”

As you step under the stream of perfectly hot water, you can’t hide your chuckle as you hear Jake struggling to get the shorts off. You can feel all the stress of the day slipping off of your body and into the drain just as the last grains of sand do. Jake’s hands at your waist finish the job. You're tugged against his firm chest and your moan of pleasure as his big hands knead your skin is lost under the patter of water drenching the stall. His cock is hard and thick against your ass as he gently rocks his hips against you.

You turn in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck as you kiss him. Jake returns the kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs as he plunders your mouth with his tongue. You can feel your body clench, muscles drawn tight at the promise of the pleasure his body can wreak on yours as he devours your mouth.

“Jump.” his voice is a sensual growl against your ear, and you’re only too eager to comply. He’s gentle as his big hands cup your ass. He presses you against the cool tiles of the shower and your shuddering moan at the contrasting temperatures is silenced with another all-consuming kiss. Jake buries his head between your breasts for several long moments, and his voice is absolutely wrecked when he speaks again, “You’re so beautiful, my gorgeous fiery, sweet girl. And I nearly lost you today.” His lips are indescribably tender as he presses kisses across your skin. Your fingers are buried in his soft hair as he sucks your nipples into his mouth nibbling and laving his tongue over tender peaks until your core is jerking against his stomach.

“Jake!” Your voice is a strung-out squeal as he pulls away from your breasts and lifts you higher.

“Put your legs on my shoulders and hold onto my hands. I’m going to eat you out until you scream my name. Now’s your chance, pretty bird. If you don’t want this, we can just shower and I can take you to bed.”

Your only response is to push his head to your core. The first swipe of his tongue over your heat has your back arching, core clenching as Jake eats you out with abandon. Your thighs are already quivering with the strain of not squishing his head between them. His nose nudges your clit with each thrust of his tongue into your heat and you’re reaching your orgasm impossibly fast.

“Jake!” You’re screaming his name, babbling about how good he makes you feel when you cum, thighs constricting as tight as a vice around his head before your body finally, blessedly, goes slack. Your knees are wobbly when Jake finally sets you on your feet. You cling to his waist, praying that your legs will cooperate enough to let you at least stand stably. You know you’ve got a dopey grin on your face when you look back at him.

“Y’ok, baby?” His voice is gentle as he wraps his arms around you.

“Yeah, better than. I’m good, Jake. I’m very good.” You’re smirking at him when he turns you until your back is pressed to his chest.

“Y’good enough to let me fuck you until we make you cum again?” As he’s speaking his hand is pressing wickedly between your folds, slowly fingering you. You don’t respond outright, too busy chasing the sensations his talented long fingers wreak on your body. You’ve forgotten what you should be responding to, in fact, when he stops moving his hands in their entirety. It’s when his hands tweak your nipples that your attention snaps back to Jake.

“Jake?” Your voice is gentle, half whining as he cups your breasts. “What happened? Why’d you stop?”

“You didn’t respond, baby. Wanted to make sure you were onboard with what I wanted to do to you.” His mouth presses kisses across your pulse as he waits for your eager consent.

“Jake.” This time, you’re moaning in earnest as you clutch at his hands over your tits. “Please fuck me, my darling, please. Want to cum on your cock.”

His groan sends heat through you as he places your hands on the wall before parting your legs.

“I’m clean, baby. But I don’t have a condom.” His big hand is splayed comfortably around your hip.

“I’m on birth control. Please.” You can feel the puffs of his breath against your damp shoulder as he nudges your clit with his cock before slowly pressing into you. Your pants turn into moans with each thick inch of him pressing into your walls. You’re seeing stars already at the constant assault of his length against your g-spot.

“Please! Please!” You’re babbling as he finally bottoms out in you, “You feel so good, Jake, please! Want to cum for you. Please, Please, Please!”

His hands are soothing against your hips as he caresses the hot skin before drawing his hips back. Jake’s infuriatingly slow, each slow glide and press into you has your toes curling as a jumbled mess of need and want and ache and pleasure washes over you. He doesn’t speed his thrusts until you begin to circle your clit with your own hand. The flutters of your wall around his length make him groan before he tugs you back against his chest.

“Oh, baby.” His voice is reverent as the new angle has your walls clenching even tighter around his length. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

You reach for his face, kissing the corner of his mouth sloppily as he picks up the tempo. You’re soon squished between the cold bathroom tile and Jake’s body as he rails into you with impunity. Your breaths are punched out moans and you can feel your second orgasm approach with an unparalleled intensity as Jake continues to piston his hips. You can hear the slapping of skin against skin even over the pounding water as Jake slides his hand between your legs and massages your clit. Your scream as you orgasm is prolonged and a thin, weak thing as the pleasure robs you of every thought.

You don’t come back to yourself for several moments. Jake’s carefully massaging shampoo into your scalp, fingers gentle against the tender parts. You kiss his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist as his hands leave your hair to wrap around you again.

“You back with me, baby?” His voice is filled with such fondness and affection that you could cry.

“Yeah, I’m back, Jake.” Your smile is dopey and fond as he draws you into a kiss. “Did you cum?” Your hands are just as gentle as his as you stand on tiptoes to lather his hair just as carefully as he’d lathered yours.

“Yeah, baby. I came when you did.” He’s started to rub soap across your skin, something fancy that smells like oranges. “God, baby. If I hadn’t been so jealous or selfish, we could’ve been doing this a long time ago. I haven’t come like that in years.”

Your heart swells as you grab the soap from him and run your sudsy hands over his strong thighs and ass, putting in just the right amount of pressure on his back to make him moan before soaping his chest and soft length. He’s looking at you like you’re something special as you tip your head back and let the hot water wash all the bubbles away. While Jake rinses off, you stay cuddled in his arms.

The bathroom is steamy and warm as he drapes a towel under your armpits and pulls a hair dryer out. You melt when he turns the dryer on and uses the combination of warm air and his fingers carding through the bedraggled strands to dry your hair. It’s quiet between you as he leads you to his bedroom and hands you a soft t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts to wear.

“Are you hungry, darlin’?” His hair is soft and mussed as he stands in the kitchen wearing just a pair of low-slung sweats.

“I’m starved.” You curl into his chest again as he pulls up a menu on his phone.

“What do you feel about Chinese food?”

You kiss him for that suggestion before pulling away to look at the menu. Jake hooks his chin over your shoulder as you laugh and playfully fight over the best menu choice. It’s light and easy as you sit on his sofa, sipping on wine and eating chinese food. You’re sure you could get used to this.

North Island Naval Base - 2 ½ Weeks Later

“It is without further ado, that we present the Top Gun Trophy to Lieutenant Junior Grade Jacob Seresin, Callsign Hangman.”

Admiral Simpson looks proud as he hands the plaque to Jake and you know Jake’s looking right at you as he smiles like he won the world. Your loss doesn’t bother you, not at all.

After that fateful night, things had been different between the two of you. One night of sex, mind-blowing, and Chinese food, greasy and perfect, hadn’t been the harbinger of change between you. Change had started the next morning when he accompanied you to the police station and waited as you’d given your statement to the police with your JAG representative by your side. It had been a relief to see the police throwing the book at your three attackers and to see their sentencing. You’d attended their trial two days ago and celebrated into the night with Jake as they’d each been sent to prison for assault of a military officer.

The biggest change had been during class. Jake was back to being the nice, perfect gentleman he had been at the beginning of your tour at Top Gun. He no longer heckled you or tried to bring you down using misogynistic remarks. He did still banter with you, but it was light and fun. And every night, he made love to you in his apartment while he called you “his beautiful fiery girl” or his “pretty bird”. He held you when your nightmares kept you awake and made you feel like you were perfect when you felt like anything but.

That’s why losing the Top Gun trophy hadn’t hurt so much. You won Jake at the end of it all. And you weren’t sure if he knew that he’d won you too. You're going to show him the next chance you get. Your entire cohort is grouped around him as you walk towards him to congratulate him. He’s been getting hugged all day, so you know it doesn’t look out of place when you wrap your arms around him and congratulate him. But you can guarantee that none of the others whispered in his ear that he had to eat them out to console them from the loss. That privilege is just for you, and it’s a consolation prize you’re very keen to claim.

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