4.

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You didn't hear Natasha when she got home last night, your mind was too busy dreaming about Bradley. You haven't dreamt about him in months. In fact, you'd just shaken that recurring dream where he shows up at your door, but when you run to him, eager to feel your body collide harshly with his, he disappears. All it took was last night's short reunion to bring him back to your dreamscape, placing him back at the center of your desires. However, this time when your subconscious conjured him, he was solid, his arms wrapping around your waist, his lips inches from yours.

You awake just as his lips pressed softly against yours, the sun streaming in through the little window above Natasha's desk, casting shadows across the linoleum floor. You groan and flop onto your stomach, pulling the closest pillow over your head.

"You can't be hungover," Natasha jokes. You peek out from under the pillow, watching her do up the zipper of her flight suit. She turns from the small mirror inside the closet to face you, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed, coaxing the pillow off your head. Sighing, you kick the covers off your body and sit up. Her eyebrow quirks. "That's not mine," she observes, her eyes narrowing at the sweatshirt covering your torso.

"No, it's not," you agree. "It's Bradley's." Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth, but you cut her off. "And before you ask, no, nothing happened. He just gave me a ride."

"Uh huh, a ride," she winks.

You shake your head, shoving her playfully as you rise from the bed, bending over to stretch your back. "I swear, it was just a ride in his pick up truck."

"Be careful, if you get caught doing that, you'll become a registered sex offender."

You look up at her, your face void of any enthusiasm. She returns your stare with a smirk, winking. You roll your eyes and lunge forward to swipe your tennis shoes from their spot at the end of the bed.

"I'm going for a run, see you when I get back?"

She shrugs. "I'm flying a course with Bob, Payback, and Rooster all morning, part of the new training, so if not today, then tonight – Hard Deck?"

"Do you guys go anywhere else?"

"You wanted the full Top Gun experience, didn't you?"

You just nod and wish her luck, quickly exchanging your pajama bottoms for running shorts, slipping your shoes on and heading out the door.

The run you planned was short lived on account of the finicky weather. Unlike the past few days, the early morning cloud cover never broke, the fog dense on the beach as you tried to push through it, the vapor soaking through your clothes. You wondered what might become of Natasha's training as you made your way back to base, looking up for a sign of her, but there wasn't a jet in the sky.

So, you wound up back near the common room, your foot inching over the threshold as you check both ways down the long hallway before committing your crime. The tension in your shoulders eases at the sight of the empty halls and you enter the quiet room, your stomach rumbling loudly. Shushing it, you wander over to the pantry, rummaging through it for something, anything.

"The rule breaker strikes again." Hangman's familiar voice echoes through the room. Before you get a chance to turn and address him, he's at your side, one hand on the pantry door handle, the other lifting the cereal box you'd just picked from the shelf out of your hands. "And this time she's after the Cheerios."

"My tax dollars pay you, these are just as much mine as they are yours," you snap, turning to face him. Heat rises to your cheeks at the sight of him, completely shirtless, a pair of black sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His chest and abdomen are sculpted as if out of marble, every tan ripple and muscle on display for you.

HEARTFIRST (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader)Where stories live. Discover now