#callsign: phoenix

[crinkled-emotions]

Day 25: Secret Santa

Hi hi! This one, again, would have made... so much more sense... had I published on Dec 25th 😂

Ship: Hangster (I'm in such a Hangster mood rn please disregard)

The original prompt:

-

Maverick finished cutting and folding paper then tossed them into his helmet, opening the airstream door and calling out to the Daggers who were floating around the hangar. Hangman, Bob, Payback and Rooster were lying on Maverick’s couches in front of his TV, squabbling about a football game. Phoenix and Coyote were playing table tennis and Fanboy was on a running commentary, earning an eyeroll from the other two. Rooster glanced up from where he was sitting on the floor between Bob’s legs, an eyebrow raised.

“What’s up, Mav?”

“Come grab a piece of paper each; the name you draw is who you’re buying for this year’s Secret Santa.”

“Hangman if I draw your name know you’re not getting anything,” Phoenix said as she climbed over the back of the couch between Bob and Payback, the first one to grab a name from the hat... helmet.

“Please tell me that’s not the one you’re using at the moment,” Rooster complained to Maverick as he reached up to grab one himself.

“Okay, I won’t tell you that.”

“Phoenix if I get you, I’m getting you tickets to the next Longhorns game,” Hangman said as he accidentally tripped over Rooster who was back on the floor after grabbing his paper.

“Getting yourself tickets to the next Longhorns game,” Bob muttered. Hangman smirked.

“Why not, right?”

“Just when I thought you’d changed, Bagman,” Phoenix sighed as she flopped into a spot on the couch. Once everyone had their piece of paper Maverick shooed them off to go back to causing chaos in the rest of the hangar. With everyone else distracted, Rooster opened his paper for a second time and winced. He stood, touching Maverick’s arm in passing.

“Hey, I forgot; I have PT first thing tomorrow morning. I’m gonna head back now and get some sleep beforehand. It’s been great out here this week, thanks Mav.”

Maverick regarded him for a moment, then smiled at him.

“Back still giving you trouble?”

“It never got better after I ejected, but PT helps.”

“That’s good, kid. Keep up with it. Let me know when you get home, yeah?”

“Gotcha.”

Maverick gave him a quick hug and Rooster went over to the rest of the Daggers to let them know he was heading out, earning a groan from Phoenix and a look from Hangman. If anyone could tell he was bullshitting, it was probably those two.

“You good, man?” Coyote asked. He was also so very perceptive when it came to bullshit.

“Fine, it’s just- y’know, I don’t really want to miss PT if it’s the only thing that helps my back, especially because I can’t do my usual gym routine at the moment.”

“Ah, gotcha. Okay man, we’ll probably see you later, we’re all thinking of going out for dinner sometime next week if you’re down?”

“Only if you’re paying, Javy,” Rooster grinned. The two bumped shoulders in good jest then Phoenix gave him a hug.

“Call me if you want to talk about it,” she said subtly as she pulled away.

“Thanks, Tash.”

With that he waved goodbye to the others and got into the Bronco, starting the engine and letting it warm up whilst he connected his phone to the new Bluetooth system he’d managed to connect about a month ago. He took a deep breath, glancing toward the others who were still having fun in the hangar and wondered if they’d figured out what was going on.

-

“That was weird, right?”

Phoenix hummed when Hangman appeared at her side, lining up her next shot on the pool table.

“You and I both know he freezes like that for no reason sometimes. He’d say something if it was serious-“

“-Trace.”

Hangman sent her a look and Phoenix cleared her throat.

“You’re right, that’s wishful thinking. We both know he doesn’t have PT for another week so what made him run for the hills?”

“The threat of commitment?” Hangman suggested, earning a pool cue to the gut. She continued to be a good shot, apparently. The pair glanced up when the airstream door opened and Maverick quietly slipped inside. They exchanged a look, and Phoenix reached for her phone.

“I don’t think they had a fight, we would’ve heard it, but I’m just gonna make sure he’s okay,” she muttered as she typed out a text. Hangman hummed.

“I’ll go see if I can get it out of Mav. He doesn’t go quiet unless it’s to do with a Bradshaw.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Phoenix pleaded. She went back to her pool game and Hangman approached Coyote and Bob.

“Hey, did either of you see when Mav’s mood changed?”

“As far as I’m aware it didn’t-“

“-when we all checked who we had for Secret Santa.”

Coyote was quick to dismiss it but Bob’s wallflower personality had the gossip Hangman needed. He was quick to ruffle Bob’s perfectly styled hair, glancing over his shoulder.

“Hey Phoenix, I got it!”

-

Phoenix: did you fight with Mav? (sent: 1:32pm)

Rooster: no? (sent: 6:30pm)

Rooster: what would make you think that? (sent: 6:31pm)

Phoenix: you pretty much ran out of the hangar and you’re not a runner anymore (sent: 6:32pm)

Rooster: look (sent: 6:35pm)

Rooster: it’s nothing (sent: 6:35pm)

Phoenix: you drove the 4 hours back to San Diego for no reason (sent: 6:40pm)

Rooster: do we really have to do this? I have PT (sent: 6:45pm)

Phoenix: bullshit (sent: 6:46pm)

Phoenix: if it’s not a big deal you would have already dealt with it (sent: 6:47pm)

Rooster: seriously Tash it’s nothing (sent: 6:48pm)

Phoenix: fine (sent: 7pm)

Phoenix: but I’m here if you want to get it off your chest (sent: 7:01pm)

Rooster: I know (sent: 7:02pm)

Rooster: but thanks (sent: 7:03pm)

Phoenix: I got your back (sent: 7:04pm)

-

Hangman had let Maverick go for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, but after dinner and a couple beers he sidled over and flopped onto the couch beside him.

“So; you and Roos have a fight?”

“No...?”

“Just checkin’, he left like his tail was on fire.”

“He’s your boyfriend isn’t he?” Maverick replied, an eyebrow raised. Hangman cleared his throat.

“Don’t change the subject, sir. Something changed when we did the Secret Santa draw; is everything okay?”

“You don’t give up, do you?” Maverick sighed, “but fine, as long as you don’t tell him.”

He reached into his pocket, offering the piece of paper he’d drawn last. Hangman opened it and whistled.

“You got something in mind?”

“Maybe. It’s... I dunno, it’s probably stupid, but-“

“-it won’t be stupid, and you’re not gonna piss him off. He’s come a long way since the Dagger mission, Mav, don’t worry about that.”

Maverick hummed, but his gaze remained on his lap. Hangman gently bumped his shoulder.

“If it helps, I’ll go and check on him tomorrow. I was thinking of heading back anyway, leave isn’t super long this time and I have to do a couple things before they torture me on base.”

That earned a chuckle and Hangman took it as a win.

-

Rooster wasn’t entirely surprised to find Hangman in his kitchen when he came back from his morning run, making what looked like coffee and breakfast. They shared a gentle kiss against the counter, Hangman offering the cup of liquid gold he was drinking to his partner.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” He started. Rooster shook his head.

“I need a shower first.”

Hangman frowned but he slowly nodded.

“Okay; go shower and then we’re going to talk. No slipping out a window, yeah? We’re too old for that shit.”

Rooster snorted, pressing a kiss to his lips before heading upstairs. Hangman sighed.

Hangman: he’s being cagey (sent: 8:45am)

Phoenix: duh (sent: 8:46am)

When Rooster returned, freshly showered and ready for the day, he took the plate offered and the couple went to the dining table. Whilst they ate they made light conversation, planning out what they wanted to do over the next couple of days other than a date night and making out on Rooster’s couch. Their plates quickly became empty and Hangman took Rooster by the hand.

“Babe,” he started softly, “tell me what’s going on in your head.”

Despite popular belief, Hangman wasn’t a pet names guy, he leaned more toward nicknames and variations of callsigns; the way he said babe told Rooster he was serious. Rooster’s gaze fell to the dining table, spotting various stains on the tabletop.

“It’s dumb,” he muttered. Hangman squeezed his hand.

“Probably, but I want to hear it anyway.”

“I got Mav for the Secret Santa. I knew there was a chance, I just didn’t think it would happen. There’s six other names I could have drawn, y’know?”

“That makes sense. You worried about it not being good enough for him?”

“It’s our first Christmas after coming back together; I think I broke his heart last year when I told him you and me were going to Australia for Christmas so I wouldn’t be around. I just want it to mean something.”

Hangman’s brows furrowed.

“I didn’t know he’d offered to have you last Christmas, but it makes sense now. You were unhinged in Australia, honey.”

Rooster snorted. When Hangman stood to approach him he instinctively opened his arms to let him into his space.

“Look, there’s a couple things you need to remember; one, I love you. Two, Mav adores you. Three, you could give him a plain white mug and he’d still treasure it because it came from you, B. He doesn’t care about what he gets, just that you’re there.”

Rooster hummed.

“You know this is why I keep you around, right?”

“Oh; so it’s not the great sex?”

“That too.”

-

Christmas Day rolled around and the Daggers plus Penny and Amelia gathered at the hangar, sharing a meal and playing football on the tarmac. Amelia had quickly integrated herself into the group of adults around her; as much as Penny was a great mom Amelia found that she also liked talking to Phoenix, a great role model for younger girls like her. Penny and Maverick sat back to watch them hand in hand, exchanging a fond look when Bob tackled Payback and everyone cheered for him.

“He’s come a long way,” Penny said. Maverick hummed.

“It shows in the air, too. He’s always had confidence in the air but it’s only grown-“

“-oh, no, I was talking about Rooster.”

Maverick’s gaze tracked around the group, finding his godson with his boyfriend. Amelia approached them and Rooster smiled at her, leaving Hangman’s side to listen to what she had to say.

“I’d say he’s finally found peace,” Maverick agreed. Penny squeezed his hand.

“Have you?”

“Who knows.”

Amelia came running to the two adults, tugging at Maverick’s hand.

“C’mon, Rooster wants to do Secret Santa.”

“Oh, does he?” Penny teased, exchanging a look with her partner. Maverick hefted himself out of his seat.

“We better not keep him waiting. Go round up the others, Amelia.”

She took off to the others, yelling for them. Penny bumped Maverick’s shoulder.

“Do you want to tell me why you’ve been so cagey lately?”

“Me? Cagey? Just trying not to get myself sent to another foreign country, Penny,” he replied. She gave him the look, the same one he’d just seen Hangman give Rooster, and winced.

“I got Rooster for Secret Santa and I’m a little worried about what I got him.”

“You’re worried he’s going to throw another temper tantrum? I really don’t think he’s got it in him anymore, honey.”

“I know... I think. I don’t want to risk it.”

“Okay, well, Hangman’s here, Phoenix is here, I’m here. We’re not going to let him ruin Christmas if that what he feels he needs to do.”

Penny squeezed his hand and they went to join the others who had gathered around the Christmas tree toward the back of the hangar.

-

“Phoenix.”

“Thanks, Amelia.”

Phoenix took the wrapped present from the younger girl, watching her hand the rest of them around. Rooster’s came as a wrapped large box, whilst Maverick’s was flatter but more rectangular. The others tore into theirs but it took a minute for Rooster and Maverick to pull off the paper. Rooster was the first to pop open his box and he immediately tossed the box on to Hangman’s lap to give Maverick a hug.

“I didn’t know you kept it,” he muttered. Maverick breathed a sigh.

“I found it last week, thought you might want it back.”

“What is it?” Phoenix asked Hangman, who reached into the box and produced a tiny airplane toy. When Rooster returned to his side he took the toy back, keeping it close to him. Hangman frowned but chose not to question it at that moment, instead flipping open the envelope he’d been handed.

“Oh, would you look at that! Longhorns tickets. I wonder who did that?” He said in a way that told everyone exactly what had happened.

“How the fuck did you draw yourself?” Bob groaned at the same time the others laughed. Hangman smirked.

“I’m just that good, Baby on board. I’m so good, in fact, that Rooster-“

“-open yours, Mav, before I have to cover Amelia’s ears,” Phoenix pleaded. Maverick gently opened the box and his eyes softened.

“All these years I thought I’d lost it. Where did you find it?”

At first the team assumed he was talking to Penny, but Rooster was the one to speak up.

“A couple weeks ago, I was cleaning out the Bronco and I found it wedged in a really weird spot. Never noticed it before, thought you might want it back.

“Guys, being mysterious is fun when you’re not pushing sixty,” Amelia groaned. Penny gently swatted her arm whilst the others laughed. Maverick rolled his eyes, holding up what looked like a keyring that had seen better days.

“I bought this when Bradley was born. I don’t believe in luck but this thing went everywhere with me and it kept me safe. The one time I didn’t have it, well... we lost Goose that day and I searched for it every day after. I had no idea it was in that damn truck of his.”

The others went quiet, Hangman reaching subtly for Rooster’s hand between them. Finally, Rooster cleared his throat.

“You never told me that.”

“I know, kid.”

“Is that Tasmania?” Phoenix blurted, standing from her seat and gesturing vaguely toward the desert outside the hangar doors.

“What does that even- oh. Yeah, goddamn, that looks like it! C’mon guys.”

Hangman followed along, gesturing with a (not) subtle head tilt toward the hangar doors. Everyone but Maverick and Rooster made a swift exit, giving them a moment to themselves.

“I’m really glad you could be here this year, Bradley. I’m not upset about Australia, you do know that right?”

“It’s good to hear it,” Rooster confessed. Maverick hummed.

“Let’s start fresh in the new year, huh? Stop running and try talking?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They shared a look, then laughed.

“I can’t believe you still had it,” Rooster muttered.

“Always. Thought you might want it back, give it to your kids some day.”

-

“This is a real cockblock, Roos. I’m trying to get laid and you’re staring at that toy?”

“Shush, Jake.”

Rooster lifted the toy to the tent light, showing a crack in one of the wings. Hangman huffed, making himself comfortable against Rooster’s shoulder and sending him a look.

“Why are you so hooked on that toy?”

“My mom said it was the last thing I got from my dad. We went to see him and Mav at TOPGUN and it was only a couple days later that he...”

Rooster cleared his throat.

“You know the story.”

“Wow... what’s the crack in the wing from?”

“I cried for, like, three hours. I was playing with it in the park and some older kid took it, stepped on it, then called me a baby. I was six. It took Mav and mom about an hour to fix it, but when they went to give it back to me I was hiding under Mav’s leather jacket and sobbing. Apparently the crying stopped the second I had it back.”

Hangman laughed, reaching up to press a kiss to his lips.

“That’s adorable; I’ll be telling Phoenix that one later.”

Rooster hummed, finally tucking the toy into his backpack and using his body weight to flip them.

“Sorry, you said something about getting laid?”

“Tell me more,” Hangman grinned.

-

[kcsplace]

Top Gun + Real But Sometimes Unfortunate Callsigns Pt 1 of ???

Top Gun Silliness

[inky-writing]

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Javy "Coyote" Machado

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

[mustasekittens]

smile~📸🍦

im finally able to post the piece i made for the @topgunzine !! i loved working on this project and seeing everything everyone created for it too! i ofc had to draw my favorite boy and his pilot and i just wanted to draw them on a cute lil ice cream date :3

[callsign-phoenix]

Hello everyone 💛✨

The falltober celebration is coming to an end and I thoroughly enjoyed it, so I have a tiny poll for you:

Thank you so much for your help!

~ Sophie 💛✨

[aviates]

ok but does the reason everyone got their callsigns make sense for everyone or just me

[geminiwritten]

at first sight ; jake 'hangman' seresin

fandom: top gun

pairing: jake x reader

summary: the squad challenge hangman to charm any girl in the bar, and phoenix chooses you, but you end up making more of an impression on him than he's is expecting

notes: i asked for some inspo and i got some! i hope this is okay, i wrote it in a day and just had a bit of fun, so let me know what you think! (i also got another request for jake, and honestly if he's who y'all want, i'm so here for it)

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, text screenshots, and it's a little horny but otherwise fine (let me know if i've missed anything!)

word count: 3304

“Any girl in the bar?” Reuben echoes Jake’s words, disbelief saturating his tone.

Jake nods. “Any available girl in this bar.”

Bradley chuckles into the mouth of his beer bottle as he tips it to his lips while Mickey and Bob crane their necks to survey the busy bar.

“What about that one?” Mickey nods toward a high table where a woman is sitting by herself.

Jake rolls his eyes. “I said available. She’s clearly got a date and he’s just gone to get a drink. Do you see the keys on the table?”

As if on cue, a tall man with thick brows and a very square jaw places two drinks on the table before sitting across from the woman.

Javy chuckles as he subtly points toward the main door where two women have just entered the bar. “What about one of those two, Hangman?”

Jake’s green eyes dart toward the door before returning to his friend and narrowing. “Be kind, Coyote. I would prefer under the age of sixty-five.”

Natasha’s brows shoot up. “Prefer, but you’d be open to-”

“No.” Jake scowls across the table at her.

The group share a laugh before they all return to scouring the bar for an acceptable target. Jake Seresin makes big claims about his ability with ‘the ladies’ but the dagger squad are yet to witness such skill in action.

“Her.” Natasha says, brown eyes focused on someone at the bar.

Every single one of them turn to follow her gaze, and Jake’s mouth twists up into that signature smirk.

-

You sigh and slide your phone out of your back pocket, opening the text chain that made you leave the restaurant you’d been waiting at and order an Uber to the nearest bar. Another message pops up as you stare at the screen, asking where you are and if you got a table yet. You roll your eyes and take a screenshot before going to your text thread with your best friend and sending it to her.

You slide your phone back into your pocket just as the bartender places the beer you ordered in front of you. You glance up with a small smile and open your wallet to find your credit card, but someone beside you is quicker to hand the man some cash.

“It’s on me,” the stranger says, wearing an irritatingly gorgeous grin.

Your eyes narrow as you assess the man beside you. He’s wearing a well-fitting pair of jeans and a dark green button-up shirt, untucked. He’s effortlessly handsome, with sparkling green eyes and light brown hair that is perfectly combed into place. It’s almost as if someone cast a spell on a Ken doll to bring him to life. But you can tell by the way this man is grinning at you that he is much more devious than a newly animated children’s toy.

You pick up your drink and turn to face him, silently asking him to explain himself.

“Hangman.” He winks.

You frown. “I prefer Pictionary.”

His pretty smirk falters for a second before he fully processes what you said, and then he chuckles. “No, it’s my callsign. I’m a naval aviator.”

You’d figured as much – duh, you live on North Island – but you’re not in the mood for this guy’s bullshit right now. “That must be so fun for you.” You push off the barstool with your drink in hand. “Thanks for the beer.”

“Wait a minute.” He doesn’t block your path, but his words are enough to stop you out of sheer habit. “I didn’t catch your name.”

You give him a tight smile. “That’s because I didn’t throw it.”

Despite the dim, yellow lighting inside the bar, his eyes still sparkle like freshly tumbled jades. He doesn’t look as smarmy as he had a few moments ago, he looks more intrigued than cocky now. His smile isn’t quite as smirky, and his gaze is less predatory, but his eyes are still raking up and down your body. On any other day, you’d be willing to give this charming man a run for his money. You’d drag him into a booth and see if he could keep up with your verbal warfare before deciding whether or not you wanted to take him home. But not tonight.

“I’d be willing to earn your name if you give me a chance.”

You look down at your beer and sigh quietly before glancing back up at him. “Look, Hangman, I don’t doubt this routine – this charm – works on most girls, but you have really picked the wrong one tonight.”

He raises one challenging brow. “You look like the right one to me.”

“The right one for what?” You cock your hip and hold it with your free hand. “A good one-night stand or something real? Because you don’t strike me as a guy who’s looking for something real, and I’ve just about had it with one-night stands.”

His mouth pops open, but no words come out.

“And while I don’t doubt that it would be a really good one-night stand, because- well, I’m not blind, I’ve just had a really crappy day and would like to drink my beer in peace while I craft a careful and incredibly scathing text to the asshole who put me in this mood.”

You pause, waiting for him to respond or tell you that you’re crazy, but he doesn’t. He just looks at you with that same curious stare, like you’re a fascinating piece of art in a gallery.

“So, thank you for the drink, but could you please let me have my pity-party alone? You can go tell your friends you got my number, and we can just pretend that I reacted to this whole situation like any other normal person would have.”

His brows pinch as you offer him another tight smile before turning and walking toward a spare table. Once you settle in one of the chairs – your back to the room –, you have to resist the urge to turn around, because a tiny part of you wishes that you could have humoured him. He was hot, there’s no denying that, but he also seemed like an actual gentleman – an experienced gentleman, but one, nonetheless. Which is something that your life is sorely lacking.

You pull your phone out again and open up your text conversation with Declan – the guy you thought you’d been dating for the past three months.

You were supposed to have met for dinner at 7PM, and you'd been waiting at the restaurant since 6:45PM because you were so excited for your date. But after those texts, you threw your napkin on the table and walked right out the door. You hailed a cab and told the driver to take you to The Hard Deck, a bar you’ve only heard of from your friend. The same friend who you’d sent the screenshots of your conversation with Declan.

You shake your head and decide to compose a ‘get fucked’ message to Declan later. You're tired and a little upset, so you tip your beer to your lips and scull the rest of it, plonking the glass down harder than necessary as you stand up.

You call an Uber to take you home and when you slide into the back seat, you feel utterly drained and more than a little guilty about blowing off that gorgeous guy. You open your phone and tap on your text messages, pulling up your conversation with your best friend and typing out a few new messages.

Natasha’s ambiguity would usually make you nauseous with curiosity, but after the day you’ve just had, you can’t find the energy to be anxious about whatever it is she wants to talk about. You send her an affirmative text, accepting the boozy brunch, before tucking your phone away and staring out the car window for the rest of the drive home.

-

Jake has been lying awake for over an hour by the time his alarm goes off. It’s Saturday, which means he doesn’t have to be at the base, but he still likes to start his weekends early with a good workout. Normally, he’d jump out of bed at the sound of his alarm and slip straight into his gym gear, but not today. He’s barely slept, and he feels like his consciousness is on a completely different plane of existence.

He can’t stop thinking about you.

You’d caught him completely off-guard last night. When Natasha had pointed you out, he could clearly see that you were gorgeous, which is why he was more than happy to accept the challenge of ‘charming’ you. Then you had the audacity to be witty, and Jake Seresin is nothing if not a sucker for a woman with a sharp tongue. You didn’t fall for his smirk or his cheesy lines, but you weren’t rude about it either. You’d clearly had a bad day, and he felt bad for borderline harassing you, but now he feels even worse for not at least getting your name.

Jake has never believed in love at first sight, but last night is starting to prove him otherwise.

His workout today is half-assed, and he knows it, but he doesn’t bother pushing himself any further by the time his hour in the gym is up. Usually, he wouldn’t leave until his whole body was slick with sweat, but not today. Every time he closes his eyes, he can see your face, and then he doesn’t want to open them again. He’s worried that the details will start to fade, and he never wants to forget the face of the woman who has so thoroughly rocked his foundations. So that’s why when he gets home, he lays on the couch and closes his eyes, trying to burn your image into the back of his eyelids.

A couple of hours and a lot of unsuccessful internet sleuthing later, his phone rings, the screen lighting up with Natasha’s caller ID photo.

“Hello?”

“Bagman, you sound tired.”

“I’m busy. What's up?”

“Well, now you sound depressed.” He can hear the amusement in her voice. “Are you still bummed about striking out last night?”

He doesn’t care about striking out, he cares about the fact that he’s now seemingly obsessed with a mystery girl he might never see again.

“I’m not in the mood, Phoenix.”

“Alright, alright. I just wanted to see if you were coming to the beach barbecue tonight.” He can hear another muffled voice in the background, but he can’t discern who it is. “It was Payback’s idea, and everyone else is in, but you didn’t reply to the group chat. So?”

There’s a beat of silence. Jake is usually always down to hang out with his friends, but he has half a mind to spend his night scouring every bar and restaurant in town to see if he can run into you again.

“Come on, Seresin,” she presses. “One of my friends is coming too, and I really think you’ll like her.”

At that, Jake’s curiosity piques. Natasha has never offered to set him up with any of her friends before. In fact, she has distinctly threatened him should he ever try to go near any of them.

“You want to set me up with your friend?”

She scoffs. “Well, no, but- Look, you’ll understand if you come. Am I counting you in?”

He lets out a long breath as he falls back against the couch cushions. “Yeah, sure.”

- Three Hours Earlier -

You stare at your best friend in disbelief. You’ve barely taken a sip of your first mimosa, and she’s already telling you that not only was she at that bar last night, but she was the one who told the gorgeous man to approach you.

“Are you mad?” she asks, holding her champagne flute in front of her face as if it could protect her.

You take a deep breath before blowing it out through your nose. “Well, no, but I’m kind of hurt that you saw me walk into the bar and didn’t come say hi.”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “That would have ruined all the fun.”

You raise your brows. “The fun of sending one of your friends into a losing battle?”

Her smile is sheepish. “Look, if you knew Hangman like I do, you’d completely understand. And when I saw you sit at the bar, of course I wanted to come and give you a hug, but then I had this beautiful opportunity presented to me. You got to take out a little bit of frustration on the male species, and Hangman got a nice big bruise on his ego. It was a win-win.”

You take a generous sip of your mimosa and point a finger at her. “Win.”

She gives you a wink before taking a big gulp of her own drink. You spend the rest of the morning talking about Declan and crafting a simple but nasty message to send him before you block his number. After three mimosas and a shared croissant, you’re starting to feel a little boozy.

“Okay, I think we should stop.”

She nods. “Probably. I still need to go shopping for tonight. You’re coming, right?”

You roll your lips and avert your eyes, instead deciding to stare at the crumbs on the plate between the two of you.

“Come on, please.” She leans forward, doing her best puppy-dog eyes. “I know you don’t know my navy friends, but you’re never going to if you keep avoiding meeting them. Plus, Hangman should be there.”

Your heart begins to thump heavily against your sternum, which is ridiculous because you barely know the guy.

“I guess I should probably apologise to him.”

She scoffs. “You don’t need to apologise. I was kind of hoping that maybe you’d reject him again.”

You roll your eyes. “Nat, come on. I was rude to the guy, and he was perfectly-”

“Wait.” Her eyes go wide. “You actually think he’s cute, don’t you? Like, not in a flippant ‘that guy is hot’ kind of way, but in the way where you can’t stop thinking about him.”

Your pulse thrums even faster. “Pfft, no.”

“Oh, my God.” She holds a hand up to her lips to stifle her laughter. “You don’t want to apologise to him, you want to fu-”

“Nat!” you exclaim. “We are in public.”

She can’t stop giggling, her brown eyes like saucers above the hand covering her mouth, and it only takes a few more seconds before you dissolve into laughter too. You’ve definitely had enough mimosas for the morning.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually you compose yourselves enough to pay and exit the cafe. Neither of you had driven this morning, thankfully, so you decide to Uber to the nearest grocery store to get supplies for tonight’s beach barbecue.

You’re turning into the cold aisle where all the meat is cut and packaged when Natasha pulls out her phone and calls Hangman. It’s stupid the way your heart races when you hear his muffled voice, but you can’t help it. You’ve been thinking about this man nonstop for the past fourteen hours and now you’re going to see him tonight. You’ve never really believed in love at first sight, but the memory of those sparkling green eyes is starting to convince you otherwise.

Hours later and after trying on every bathing suit you own, you find yourself walking toward the gazebo on the beach where Nat’s location on your phone is pinging. There’s a fold out table with a portable barbecue on it and half a dozen beach chairs scattered across the sand. There’s also a volleyball net set up, where two very fit men are batting a white ball back and forth.

You’re starting to think that maybe you were doing yourself a disservice by not meeting Nat’s navy friends sooner.

“Hey!” Nat exclaims, yanking two beers out of the ice tub before jogging toward you. “I’m very impressed that you didn’t bail.”

You roll your eyes and try to be discreet about surveying the group for a face you’ll recognise. “Of course I didn’t bail.”

“Come meet everyone.” She links her arm with yours and leans in to whisper in your ear. “Hangman isn’t here yet.”

She points at the two men playing volleyball and tells you that they are Rooster and Payback. Then she pulls you into the gazebo’s shade and introduces you to Coyote, who is manning the barbecue, and Fanboy, who is second in charge. Harvard, Fritz, and Halo are occupying a few of the beach chairs, and apparently there are two more naval aviators on their way. One of which you’ve already met.

Everyone is super nice and incredibly fucking fit. It doesn’t take long for you to relax and enjoy the conversation with Fanboy while Nat argues with Coyote about what ‘medium rare’ looks like.

“Oh, and here’s another one,” Fanboy says, glancing over your shoulder with a grin. “This is Hangman.”

Your heart almost leaps out of your chest when you turn around and come face to face with those gorgeous green eyes.

He smiles, and it’s hot enough to melt your bikini bottoms. “Pictionary, right?”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “Yeah, that’s right. Nat tells me you’re actually Bagman?”

He rolls his eyes and turns to your best friend, who is grinning like a maniac. “Jake Seresin, this is my best friend. Have you two met?”

Jake.

He says something to Natasha along the lines of calling her evil, but you’re not listening anymore. You’re too busy drinking him in, and oh my, is that a big drink.

He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of khaki shorts, and his taut tan skin is making your mouth water. He has to have been sculpted by the gods, that is the only explanation for this man. Your eyes rake across his broad chest, the smattering of hair at his sternum, and down his defined abdominals. You can imagine licking every line, tasting every inch of his skin and following that V with your tongue below the waistband of his shorts.

Natasha nudges your ribs as she walks past, and you only just catch her wink before you look up and find Jake’s eyes on you. He’s smirking, and this time, it’s working. “Phoenix said you wanted to tell me something.”

Oh yeah, he definitely knows you were just checking him out.

You clear your throat. “I- um, I wanted to apologise for being rude last night. I’d had a bad day, but you honestly didn’t do anything wrong. Any other day I’d probably have jumped right into bed with you.”

Your eyes widen and you smack a hand over your mouth, heat crawling into your cheeks as you realise what thoughts you just let slip through your lips. Jake laughs, his smirk morphing into a genuine and breathtaking grin.

“I’m so sorry,” you say quickly. “I have no filter sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He licks his lips and looks you up and down, like a predator sizing up its prey. “You don’t have anything to apologise for, but considering this is any other day, why don’t you start by telling me your name? Then we can see about jumping into bed.”

You can feel yourself melting faster than a popsicle in the sun. It’s not that you want to be immediately smitten by this ridiculously gorgeous and charming man, but you can’t help it. Ever since last night, you’ve had a weird feeling about him. A feeling that makes you think he’s important to your story, one way or another.

All you can do now is hope that it’s in a good way.

END.

[ruerecs]

𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒈𝒖𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒔 𝒊𝒗.

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN.

secret wife by @ddejavvu

the beanery by @callsign-peach

left at the alter by @tip-top-cloud-surfer

watermelons by @promisingyounglady

loving you is easy by @thewulf

start the year right by @theharddeck

when jake met polly by @honkytonk-hangman

TAKE A BITE by @dearsnow

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW.

valentines S.O.S by @bellaireland1981

for you i'd wait forever by @katsu28

carolina? by @senawashere

angel in the infield by @bradshawssugarbaby

between friends by @sometimesanalice

NATASHA 'PHOENIX' TRACE.

THE FOUNTAIN OF YOU by @moonlight-prose

call out our names by @lenafromthenordiccoven

let your senses guide you by @topguncortez

nat discovers your nipple piercings by @sehnsuchts-trunken

ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD.

'cause you're so smooth by @bussyslayer333

pretend by @attapullman

four eyes by @promisingyounglady

i got chills, they're multiplying by @deakyjoe

deserve it by @withahappyrefrain

i'm not sorry

it's inevitable

by @drabbles-mc

BIRDS OF A FEATHER by @dearsnow

shopping lists by @sebsxphia

JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO.

bones, hearts & marriages by @hangmanssunnies

and i want to make her mine by @beyondthesefourwalls

BRADLEY 'N' JAKE.

it's to you i will always return by @blue-aconite

up the ante by @sometimesanalice

no keying cars by @foreverrandomwritings

why not forever? by @roosterforme

thick thighs save lives by @ddejavvu

[callsign-bobsgirl]

Baby On Board

Pairing: Bob Floyd x f!Reader Summary: There seems to be a misunderstanding between you and the Dagger Squad about your husband's callsign. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: Unbeta-ed, rusty writing and one clumsy allusion to smut. Otherwise none.

When the gang found out that Bob could actually talk to women, they were shocked.

When the gang found out that Bob had been talking to, coming home to, and loving on the same woman for the past ten years, they were somehow less shocked.

What shocked Bob — although in retrospect it probably shouldn’t have — is just how adamantly everyone insisted on getting to meet the Mrs. Bob Floyd. The mystery that the quiet WSO kept under wraps. This Friday at the Hard Deck, seven o’clock.

Which is what he groaned into your neck early that afternoon after Mav had sent everyone home early as a reward. The two of you lazed about on top of the covers, the box of clothes half unpacked and forgotten at the foot of the bed the minute Bob walked through the bedroom door.

“I was hoping to keep you to myself for just a little longer,” your husband whined; turned humming as you ran your hand through his hair.

“I’m more hurt you didn’t immediately tell them about your hot wife in Lemoore,” you muse, “I mean what if I came down to surprise you, hmm? What if I popped down to the Top Deck before we permanently moved down huh? And that … Flameman or whatever tried to hit on me because he didn’t have it burned into his skull that I’m the lovely Mrs. Floyd hmm? What then?”

Groaning, Bob lifted himself to his elbows, pressing kisses to your jaw, “When we meet Hangman at the Hard Deck, he’s probably gonna hit on you anyways, if nothing else than to try and get a rise out of me.”

“Ah yes, you and your famous impulsive temper,” you tease.

Sliding a hand from Bob’s torso up to his shoulder, you quickly flip him over so you’re on top. Grinning cheekily you lean back on your haunches, getting to work on Bob’s belt while he fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt, waiting for his turn to strip you of the offending cloth.

“I’ll talk to my sister, see if she can’t reschedule some stuff for Friday,” you say, reaching your hand down your husband's briefs and getting a pleased hum in response.

—

When the two of you walked into the Hard Deck, you for the first time, you let Bob lead you through the crowds of people and he pointed out the different ranks of aviators, the obvious gaggles of tag chasers, and the old-timers who were loyal to the bar. You did your best to listen but you were busy smoothing down the sundress Bob loved so much and it was really loud in here.

“Stop worrying,” Bob leaned down to say in your ear, “You can run miles around these guys.” The WSO paused for a second, “Maybe not … physically, but in every other way.”

You laugh as you slap the back of your hand against his chest, “will Phoenix be here at least?”

“You see the guy in the Hawaii print?”

“Uh-huh”

“See the woman who just jabbed him with the pool stick?”

“Yeah?”

“Phoenix.”

The two of you approach the pool table everyone is crowded around but before you can announce yourself, a boyish-looking man with amber skin whistles and waves across the pool table, bringing everyone’s attention with him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bob!”

Everyone clamoured to meet the new arrivals, but you didn’t miss how one of them — a blond, cocky-looking son of a bitch with a toothpick dangling from his lip — held back, only to eventually push his way past an ‘LT. Fitch’. 

“Well Darlin’, it sure is nice to finally meet you,” his grin sure does take over his face, huh, “callsign Hangman, but you can call me Jake,” he says with a wink.

You share a look with Bob — who had just returned from the bar with your cocktail and his peanuts — and yeah, Hangman was exactly as you imagined him.

Saying a quick thanks to your husband and making sure to drag your fingers across Bob’s as you take the glass from him, you turn back to the other blond who won’t stop with the cocksure smirk. If Bob hadn’t warned you that Jake, for all that he was like … well this, was harmless and wouldn’t actually try anything; you’d be throwing the drink in his face.

But you also figured the alcohol would do better in you than on him.

Later in the evening, after everyone had had a few drinks and you’d loosened up, Topman sauntered back over to your stool where you were admiring your husband bent over the pool table.

“I gotta admit, I am mystified at how our Baby on Board managed to snag you,” the pilot kept going, finally getting a chuckle out of you.

‘Cause yeah, ‘Baby On Board’, that was funny you’d give Bagman that one. You didn’t get why it made the rest of the squadron look at you weird though.

“What?” you ask. 

You also couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling when Rooster swatted the back of Hangman’s head, but Phoenix is the one who elbows herself up to Hangman, going between glaring at him and raising her eyebrow at you.

“You … you do get what Bagman’s saying about Bob here, right?”

You nod, still not getting where the miscommunication lies.

“That Bob is … you know, a baby?” she explains.

Right as you emphatically exclaim, “fucks!”

And boy if that didn’t get the guys hooting and hollering, as your husband’s face turns bright pink.

Did these guys not get it? There’s a reason your Robby was one of the only two squadron members who’d even made it down the aisle. The way his hair was never out of place in uniform, how it bounced when he was out of it, and how soft it felt between your fingers. Those blue eyes that demanded your attention and turned you into a puddle when they darkened. Did his squad think you could let him do more than an hour of yard work in the summer, chest all sweaty and glistening before you beckoned him back into the privacy of the house? Or even worse, when he danced from the kitchen to the living room, carrying mugs of hot chocolate, on Christmas in those ‘family matching’ pyjamas.

‘Bob is a baby’ for the best of the best in the navy, these people were fools.

“I don’t get what the big fuss is,” you tell the aviators, “honestly, with every year that passes I half expect a kid to reach out from wherever he’s been deployed over the years.” Which gets another round of laughter out of your husband’s colleagues.

Robby knew you knew how insanely in love with him you were and how much you trusted him, and you knew how deep his devotion to you was — which is why instead of defending himself he just hid his red face in your hair. Already hearing the jokes he’ll face on base next month. You bringing a hand up to clumsily yet comfortingly cup his jaw helped though.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Payback says sincerely, “it's just that the Bob we know, the Bob we work with … it's kinda hard to see the Bob you know in him.”

And that’s when you realize. If Robby hadn’t told his squadron anything about you, then he definitely hasn’t said anything about …

“No I get it, my Robby can be on the quieter side, and probably downplays his moves at work” You hear Robby groan in your ear, knowing exactly what you’re about to reveal; and you gear yourself to revel in the shock you’re about to create. 

“But he did get three kids out of me.”  

The yelps of surprise and demands of proof had everyone in the bar glancing over at the pool table, but you and Bob just laughed at them as he handed over his wallet: showing off the five of you in the small ID window.

_____________________________________________

A/N: this is 100% from my own misunderstanding of Hangman's joke the first few times I watched the TGM, I truly thought he was implying Bob must always have a baby on the way because look at him??? Anyways, first time posting in the fandom. Come on over and say hi! And ... idk, live laugh love long and prosper.

also s/o to @sailor-aviator for helping my brain when it wasn't braining ♡

[crinkled-emotions]

Day 22: Drawing a dick on someone's back in sunscreen (only for them to find out later)

This... damn, I had to take a breath.

Happy 2024 team! How crazy is it that we're in 2024?? It feels like yesterday my family hauled ass from one side of Australia to the other (it was actually 2013 but who's counting?).

We have some Daggers being Daggers! Lately I've been in a bit of a funk but I think I'm slowly coming out of it now :)

This one is shorter but I don't have a problem with that, I feel like it lowkey suits better.

-

“Tasha.”

Phoenix glanced at Bob over her sunglasses.

“What?”

“Don’t look now.”

“Look at what?”

She followed his gaze, spotting Rooster asleep on his lounger... on his stomach. Fanboy winked as he passed by, waving the sunscreen bottle in his hand. Phoenix cocked an eyebrow when Hangman and Coyote also started watching. To her surprise Maverick was also asleep; dogfight football had been off the table that morning but real football wasn’t. Turns out Hangman was of course the stereotypical high school quarterback but to everyone’s surprise Payback had been a linebacker... Rooster and Bob had both dropped out of football at their first opportunity (Bob was a consistent winner in debate club and Rooster played baseball all the way through his schooling years). Fanboy was a strong defender and Coyote was enjoying tackling Hangman when he had the opportunity. Phoenix was a soccer player throughout high school and she didn’t have the slightest interest in football despite having three brothers so when the others mentioned setting up a game she’d laid out with her book to watch them fall over each other. Bob had been snoozing on and off beside her for the last ten minutes, but apparently the others were done with their football to move on to another game.

It had been a long week on base; hops, simulations and lectures kept them all busy and often drained. Maverick did his best to keep morale up but he had things he had to complete and things he needed to ensure the Daggers were competent in to pass on to their classes. Their classes alone had been overwhelming with over-confident kids measuring their dicks at all times – no, seriously Bob was never walking into the locker rooms without knocking ever again.

In order to give the team a moment to recover, Maverick had suggested meeting at the beach by the Hard Deck in the afternoon for burgers. Of course it had quickly turned into sports and now everyone, fed and satisfied, had found various locations to get comfortable for a nap. It wasn’t just Rooster asleep; Payback and Maverick both were asleep and despite the smirk on his face, Hangman looked like he was considering his nap potential too. Bob and Phoenix exchanged looks, Phoenix passing over her book so Bob could subtly film what Fanboy was up to. Fanboy grinned, wiggling his fingers.

“Oh he’s totally gonna wake up,” Bob muttered. Phoenix elbowed him.

“No he’s not; Rooster sleeps like he’s dead, he’s not going anywhere.”

They watched as Fanboy drew a phallic symbol in sunblock on Rooster’s back, winking at the others as he then made a run for it. Plucking her book from Bob’s hand, Phoenix flopped back against her seat.

“Well, now we wait.”

-

Missed call from Rooster (7:14am)

Missed call from Rooster (7:15am)

Missed call from Rooster (7:15am)

Rooster: Tasha CALL ME

Phoenix woke to the notifications and immediately called Rooster, holding her phone to her ear as she got out of bed. Whilst she fumbled into clothes just in case it was that kind of emergency, he finally answered.

“Oh, so now you’re out of bed?”

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Phoenix demanded, shoving her (clean, relax) sock into her mouth so that she could do up the button on her jeans.

“I’m glad you’re so well rested, I got up early for PT and I just had them tell me the funniest thing ever.”

Phoenix paused. Spat out her sock.

“Bradley Bradshaw,” she started carefully, “please tell me you didn’t send me an SOS – on a Sunday of all days – to tell me about the PT you flirted with?”

“What- no! She was cute though... no, she asked me if I had a new tattoo and when I said I had no idea what she was talking about she handed me a mirror so I could see my back.”

Phoenix’s eyebrows raised as it all came rushing back.

“Oh my god, I totally forgot about that!”

She burst out laughing, doubling over as she howled. She could almost feel the irritation through the phone but it only made her laugh harder.

“Thanks, Phoenix. I can’t believe someone drew a dick on my back – wait. Who was it anyway? Just out of curiosity. It was Hangman wasn’t it?”

Phoenix took a moment to gather herself, flopping back into bed.

“No way am I throwing anyone under the bus. Figure it out yourself, Bradshaw – and holy shit, I hate you so much right now, it’s 7:30am on a Sunday morning and I’m awake. Ugh, this is cursed.”

Now it was Rooster’s turn to laugh, and he did until Phoenix hung up on him.

-

“Can we see it?”

Rooster glanced over his shoulder at Coyote, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you propositioning me? Take me out to dinner first, man, damn-“

“-no, the dick- shit.”

Coyote sighed while Rooster chuckled, finishing getting into his flight suit.

“C’mon- please?”

“Ooh, sorry man, too late. Better luck next time.”

“Damn.”

Coyote went back to his own locker while Rooster struggled to get his flight suit to not rest against his sunburned back and shoulders.

“Bradley.”

Rooster groaned, glancing up when Maverick approached.

“Yeah, Mav?”

“I’ve been... hearing rumours today.”

“This is about the lilly white dick on my back isn’t it. You have your team to thank for that.”

Maverick’s mouth twitched. Rooster sighed.

“Go ahead; laugh it up. You’re not the first. I’m gonna kill Hangman when I get my hands on him.”

“It doesn’t sound like it was him, Roo.”

Maverick ruffled his hair and then continued his walk up to the podium.

“Good morning, aviators- hey, has anyone seen the penis on Rooster’s back? Gives a whole new meaning to his callsign, really.”

The rest of the Daggers laughed, Maverick flipping open his file.

“Okay, let’s get to it. Uh, today we’re going to be not doing the intense hops we’re used to; we’re going back to basics because I’m starting to notice gaps in your training...”

-

“C’mon, guys, fess up will you? Who drew the dick on my back in sunscreen and then let me burn?”

“To be fair, you slept for hours and we woke you when we were worried about you getting dehydrated,” Bob commented as he moved around the ready room. The others exchanged nervous glances; if anyone would dob another team member in it would probably be Bob.

Damn stealth pilots.

“The joke’s over, guys, I’ve got a burn along the lines of my callsign and I don’t think Maverick has stopped laughing yet.”

“He’s not the only one,” Hangman grinned. Rooster cocked an eyebrow as he turned to the blonde; no one said he was above bribery-

“Tell me who it was and I’ll blow you-“

“-it was Fanboy.”

The others groaned, Bob facepalming.

“Yet again, Hangman, you live up to your callsign,” Coyote said to his best friend. Hangman shrugged.

“I’ll never say no to a-“

“-did you seriously just give Fanboy up? Dude, not cool.”

Phoenix walked into the ready room at the perfect time, smacking Hangman upside the head. He winced but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“Guys; I’ll send you photos I promise.”

-

[lulunothulu]

“Come again?”

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Hangman, being the instigator he is, asks Rooster a question that’ll make you both question your friendship.

Contents: drinking, swearing, KISSING, implications of sex, morning after, HEA. 18+

Your callsign: Canary

“Hey, Bradshaw!” Hangman yells over the loud music. “How many beers does it take for you to kiss little miss Canary?”

“None,” he smirks, looking directly at you.

“Come again?” You ask in disbelief.

Around you, the Dagger Squat howls and yelps, shaking both you and Rooster.

“Kiss her!” Phoenix starts.

Soon enough, the entire squad and chanting, “Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!” And you want to punch Hangman in the dick.

Not that you wouldn’t mind kissing your best friend, Rooster. He just doesn’t feel the same way, at least you thought he didn’t.

“If you don’t kiss her, someone else will!” Hangman yells.

“Who? You?” Rooster chuckles.

“Why not?” You butt in. Again, the Dagger Squad goes wild.

Only this time, Rooster looks a bit pissed.

“Yeah, kiss her, Bagman,” Phoenix encourages.

“Don’t encourage—” Rooster starts.

“Okay,” you shrug, pulling Hangman by the collar of his shirt.

You don’t get to kiss him because you feel yourself being lifted over someone’s shoulders.

Not someone…Bradshaw’s.

“Put her down! I was about to kiss her!” Hangman yells after you both.

“Fuck off, Seresin!” Rooster yells.

“Yeah, fuck off!” You repeat.

Rooster carries you out the front door of the Hard Deck, and straight to his Bronco. He places you down on the ground beside the driver’s side before leaning over you, his arms outstretched on either side of your shoulders.

“How dare you try to kiss him,” he play-scolds, a smirk forming on his mustached lips.

“How dare you care,” you spit back, also smirking. “I was about to kiss the best kisser in the squad and you fucked it up for me, Bradshaw.”

“Who said he was the best kisser?”

You scoff. “Please, Jake’s a menace but he gets laid more than you do.”

“So…I was an option?” He’s practically floating with how big headed he’s acting.

“You wouldn’t kiss me,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You’d be scared to ruin our friendship.”

“What if I wasn’t?” Bradley’s voice is gruff, low and steady. “What if I wasn’t scared of ruining this, us?”

“I’d say that you’re crazy,” you respond.

“Say you’d kiss me back,” he states.

“No,” you playfully answer.

“C’mon, Miss Canary,” he teases, this time pressing his body to yours and sandwiching you between him and his Bronco. “Say you’d kiss me back.”

He’s solid muscle on top of you. The thought of his body on yours, of him inside you, gets the wheels of your mind churning.

You play into it, after all, he’s not serious.

Pressing and rubbing your hips into his, you bite your bottom lip and bat your lashes at him. “And if I don’t?”

“With the way you’re pressing into me, you’ll find out soon.”

Sure enough, you feel him hardened against your crotch. The thought and feel of his length against you gets you so wet, you have to clench your thighs together to keep from getting any sort of tension away from between your thighs.

“Alright then, Mister Rooster,” you reply. “Kiss me then.”

Bradley wastes no time, his lips are on yours as soon as the last word comes falling out of your mouth.

His mustache tickles but you don’t mind. It’s his lips that make you want to melt into a puddle. They’re sweet, soft but insistent in the way that he kisses you. Tender enough to not hurt you, but hungry in the way that he’s been waiting for you to give him the green light.

Everything makes sense, his lips on yours, the way his hands cradle your head and snake around your back to cup your ass. The feel of his tongue slipping into your mouth sends you into a deep state of want and need.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and instantly feel him move the hand on your head down to your ass as he lifts you effortlessly off the ground and pins you to the window of his car.

Breathlessly, you pull away, searching his brown eyes for any indication of regret. Only, you don’t find it. You find hunger, lust, and something else you can’t place.

“Are we really gonna do this?” You ask.

“If you want to,” he replies.

You pull him in for one more kiss, a peck if you would, before pulling away and smiling. “Take me home.

~*~*~*~

The day after, you wake up feeling something heavy on your stomach. Turning to see what it is, you find Bradley sleeping beside you. The heavy thing on your stomach being his arm.

Oh god. Bradley’s arm is on your stomach.

You look under covers, pulling the duvet up and gasping softly when you see your naked body. You take a quick glance at Bradley, only to find he’s also naked beside you.

And by god is he beautiful.

“You like what you see?” You hear him gruff beside you.

You quickly pull the duvet back down, turning to face him. A blush creeps up your neck and ears when you find him already staring at you.

His hair is sticking up at all angles, his brown eyes are soft, and a lazy smile is formed at his lips.

“I didn’t realize we, uh…”

“Fucked?” He finishes. Then, with a wad of his brows, adds, “Made love?”

You feel your blush rush to your cheeks and cover your face with your hands. “Oh god.”

“Hey,” he starts, taking your hands in his and forcing you to look at him. “I don’t regret it at all.”

“You don’t?” You ask.

“Fuck no,” he smiles. “I’ve been wanting to further our relationship.”

“Wanting to be fuck buddies?”

“Y/N,” he groans. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Please do,” you say. Your heart is pounding a million miles per hour in anticipation of what he means.

“I’ve known you for years and you’ve never caught up to the fact that I have feelings for you?”

“You have,” you suck in a breath, “feelings for me?”

He sighs, caressing your cheek. “Of course I do. How could I not? You’re a damn good pilot, smart, funny. Not to mention how fucking hot you are.”

He sits up, leaning on one arm and looking down at you.

“Y/N I want to be more than friends,” he tells you. “I want to take you on dates. Marry you one day. Have kids with you.”

Tears threaten to prickle and fall from your eyes but you blink them away.

“Please say you’ll date me,” he begs.

You swallow, trying to keep from laughing and pulling him in for a kiss. You take a deep breath, feeling the air calm your emotions before you smile.

“Okay,” you simply say.

“Okay?”

“Don’t make this a thing like that one book,” you joke.

He sighs with relief, leaning down before kissing you deeply, his mustache poking your nose. You don’t care though. You’ll gladly feel this if it means you get to kiss him.

When he pulls away, you laugh.

“What?” He asks.

“I can’t believe we had sex last night.”

He smirks, raising a brow. “Wanna do it again?”

You shrug, a fake serious expression on your face. “I don’t see why not.”

Ughhhh I’m loving me some Bradley Bradshaw lately. This was supposed to go out last night and my dumbass forgot to post it 😂

[ddejavvu]

I’d love to see a jake seresin x secret wife au. The dagger squad doesn’t realize he’s married until Phoenix invites reader out to the bar with them! Thanks you’re the best!!

You're reminded just how little you know Natasha when she invites you out for drinks, and you end up at the bar adjacent to the naval base. You've been inside only once with Jake before, when you were still dating and he was going through training at top gun. Now he's a graduate, and the place brings back fond memories. You've chatted, of course, when she stops by for breakfast at the bakery you work for, but you've never discussed her career before.

"Hope you don't mind we're close to base," She grins, "My friends wanted to meet here, and I get free drinks 'cause the bartender likes me. They have this bell system to embarrass all the assholes here, and I think I ring it more than she does."

"I've been here before," You admit, tentatively grabbing her arm as she weaves through the crowd, "My husband and I came here once, a long time ago. I don't think the bartender was a woman, though."

"She just bought the place a few years ago," Natasha nods, sliding onto a stool at the bar, "Careful, don't put your phone on the bar."

You tuck the device safely away in your pocket as a brunette woman turns to you, a sweet smile on her face as she recognizes Natasha.

"Hey, Phe," She hums, and you don't have time to ask what the nickname means, "Brought a friend?"

"I'm Y/N," You introduce yourself, noting that they seem like close friends, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Penny."

You nod and beam at her when she offers you an identical bottle of beer to the one Natasha takes. You decline, though, ordering your usual instead. Jake's out with his friends tonight, but he's pledged to be a responsible drinker in case you need to be picked up from your girls' night.

"Can I get, uh," Natasha peers through the crowd, turning back when you assume she's found her target, "Five more?"

"Fanboy's got one already," Penny hums, taking four chilled bottles from beneath the counter, "You want help carrying them?"

"We're good!" You wrap one hand around two bottles, trusting Natasha to lead you towards her friends in the hectic crowd. You don't remember it being this busy when you'd come with Jake, maybe the new management really helped.

She treks you all the way over to a pool table along the wall, where a few men in jeans and t-shirts are huddled. You're taken by surprise, though you're not sure why. You'd automatically assumed her friends would be women, and you wonder if that's concerning. Possible internal bias aside, you smile at the men who stand to greet you.

"Hello," You wave, handing off beers to the two that meet you first,"I'm Y/N, you're Natasha's friends?"

"We are," A tall man grins, holding a hand out for you to shake now that it's not wrangling beers, "I'm Reuben. But you can call me Payback, if you want."

Natasha still has one of the beers in her hands, and you hear the man beside her, who she greets as Fanboy, mention something about the bathroom. Apparently you still have someone to meet.

You refocus on Reuben, "Payback," You tilt your head slightly to the side, "Is that a callsign? Are you a pilot?"

"We all are," The man who'd taken the other beer from you nods along with Payback, a burnt red mustache on his lip, "Natasha's is Phoenix. And I'm Rooster."

Your stomach drops.

"Wait, uh- Rooster? And- and Phoenix, and Payback," Your head spins slightly with recollections of Jake's crazy work stories, and you take a step back, "Are you- you're all stationed to this base?"

"Temporarily," Rooster frowns, "Hey, are you okay?"

"My husband-" You don't get the words out before he emerges from the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks with a furrow in his brow that wrinkles his forehead.

"Darlin'?" He calls, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Jake?" You're equally incredulous, "I- these are the friends you're going out with?"

"Yeah, I-" He wanders closer, still at a general loss for words, "You know Phoenix?"

"Natasha gets breakfast at the bakery," You breathe, now that he's close enough to hear your dumbfounded murmur. You have an audience, but you don't care, not as Jake's confused expression melts into a sheepish smile.

"Well, small world. You look stunning tonight, honey."

"Thanks," You grin bashfully, keeping one hand on your drink and using the other to cup his cheek, tugging him down into a quick kiss. No matter how chaste it is, it gets a reaction.

"Oh," Fanboy gawps, "You're- her husband? You- Hangman, dude, you're married?"

"I am," Jake hums, ringing an arm around your waist and taking the beer from Natasha that she's too shock-stricken to hand to him. He pops the cap off on the edge of the pool table, bringing the fizzing mouth to his lips for a swig. He swallows, "Six years and counting."

"You're married to Hangman," Natasha- er, Phoenix repeats, "You married him?"

"Uh, I did," You laugh, twisting the ring on your finger.

"He never wears a ring," Rooster narrows his eyes at Jake accusatorily, "What, you're keeping her hidden away or something?"

"No," Jake scoffs, "It kept getting dirty when I was doing maintenance on my jet. I keep it on my dog tags, Bradshaw."

He brandishes the chain with both his ID and wedding band on it, and Rooster takes a swig of beer in response.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that, man? I don't stare at your chest in the locker room."

"Well you're missin' out," Jake drawls, turning to grin at you, "Ain't that right, honey?"

"Jake," You hiss, "Not here!'

"Oh, don't get all fussy. Most of these guys have seen my dick," He waves a dismissive hand in the air, nearly spilling his beer. You swear you hear someone mumble, 'unfortunately', but Jake drowns them out, "They don't care if we flirt. Hey, whaddya say we sharpen up those pool skills of yours?"

"Alright," You nod, letting him lead you over to the table, "Natasha, can you hold my drink?"

She takes it like it's her duty to protect you, even though your big strong husband has just bent you over the pool table. It takes you a few tries to be able to hit the ball at all with your clumsy grip on the cue, but when it finally cascades the colorful targets around the table, Jake whoops, landing a congratulatory smack to your ass that his friends groan at.

"Nice goin', darlin'. Gonna beat Bradshaw into the ground in no time."

[dancethroughthethunder]

Hiccups, Pens, and Other Ways Bob Might be a Wizard (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary: Five times your teammate Bob knows and does the exact thing you need and one time you hope to return the favor.

Author’s Note: As is a theme in my fics, I love love love friends to lovers and a 5+1 fic. This one happens to be with the sweetest WSO around, who I'm convinced is a Nana's Boy and an acts of service guy. This work can also be found here at my ao3. I hope you enjoy!

1. 

Your morning exercise is going to start any minute and you can’t stop hiccupping. Usually some nice slow sips of water get rid of your hiccups but for some reason that doesn’t seem to be working right now. Eventually you set your water bottle down and groan. 

Hangman and Coyote are laughing hysterically each time you hiccup, as if they’ve never heard someone have them before, and you can tell that Rooster is trying his best not to laugh along with them.

“It’s not that” hic “ funny.” You say, rolling your eyes at your teammates and thankful that Mav hasn’t arrived yet to start the day.

“It really is. You sound like a little mouse. Maybe we’ll change your name to Squeaky.” Hangman can barely get out in between laughs. For some reason, this is what breaks Rooster’s composure and he starts laughing along, muttering something you can’t quite catch about cheese. 

You’re not offended, and you’re not really annoyed with your teammates, you just really want these damn hiccups to go away. You’ve held your breath, tried slowly drinking water, and you just can’t get rid of them. You know that Hangman is right and you sound ridiculous and all you can do is hope that by the time your morning officially starts and you all observe the first flight of the day, you’ll be back to normal. It’s not like they’re your fault, but you’re sure that Mav will give you shit for interrupting and distracting the team if they’re still happening once the day starts. At this point, you’re almost desperate enough to ask one of the guys to try and scare you. Almost.

You hear footsteps down the hall, and pick your water back up, hoping that if Mav’s on his way in, you’ll get lucky and be able to kick your hiccups quickly once and for all.

“What’s your callsign?” Bob calls out as he comes into the room, flight suit on and helmet in hand. Bob and Phoenix are first in the air this morning, and you’re surprised he’s in the briefing room instead of out on the tarmac. 

“What?” hic . 

Bob clearly knows your callsign, you’ve known each other for years, you two go back before the Uranium mission. Besides, even if you only met a few months ago, it’s painted on the side of your plane and in true Top Gun fashion, everyone else calls you it pretty much exclusively. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go up?” You ask.

“I’ve got a few minutes. Humor me?” It’s Bob, so even though you’re confused, you do. You’re not sure that there’s much that Bob could ask of you that you wouldn’t do without much hesitation. 

“It’s” hic “Hawk.” You tell him, knowing that your tone conveys your confusion.

“Oh no, it’s Squeak now.” As per usual, you and Bob both ignore Hangman. You are tempted to flip him off but know that with your luck, that’ll be the moment an admiral strolls by. You keep your hands down and your attention focused on Bob. 

“Good. Full name?” Bob nods earnestly as he asks, and you’re sure you’re looking at him suspiciously, but you go along with it, giving him your first, middle, and last name in between hiccups. 

“Last one – what’s your birthday?” Okay, now you’re sure he has to be up to something but you give him the month and date, turning to look at Rooster who just shrugs.

“With the year?” Once again, you do what Bob asks and repeat your birthday, tacking on the year at the end. “Oh shit gotta run, you’re welcome Hawk!” Bob looks down at his watch and turns around to run, presumably out to the tarmac.  

“What was that?” You turn to ask the rest of the squad when suddenly you realize that somewhere between your full name and now, your hiccups have completely disappeared. 

“RIP Squeak, she squeaked her last squeak.” Fanboy’s comment doesn’t make sense, but everyone is laughing anyway.

You head to the door to watch Bob run out to meet Phoenix on the tarmac, yelling out after him. 

“Bob what the fuck? Are you a wizard?” Shaking your head in disbelief, you make your way back to your seat just in time for Maverick to come in and turn on the flight radio to begin the day’s exercises. Mav’s clearly in a mood so you’re extra thankful, even if you’re not sure what drew Bob to the training room in the first place or how his interrogation solved your hiccup problem.

Resolving to ask Nat later, you grab a pen and your notepad and start trying to pay complete attention to Maverick as he walks you through the morning’s plan even though your mind keeps trying to drift towards your favorite WSO.

2. 

“Damn.” You’re trying to finish jotting down some thoughts before your next meeting, but your pen doesn’t seem to be cooperating. “Nat, do you have a spare pen I can borrow?” 

Judging by her grimace, you know what she’s going to say before she says it. 

“Sorry, Hawk. Try one of the guys?” 

You love your teammates, you trust them with your life – literally – but at the end of the day, sometimes they’re useless. This is one of those times. For a group of highly decorated aviators, it’s shocking how often one of you has to cave and buy an entire box of cheap pens to keep around for everyone’s use.

Given how often you and Phoenix have teased the guys for using a last-resort pen (as you’d dubbed them), you really don’t want to have to go grab one. Even if you hadn’t given the guys shit about it, you’re particular about your pens when it comes to your personal work notes. 

Contrary to popular belief, not everything you do at work is officially on the record, required by law. There’s nothing in your meeting notes that would require them to be kept or maintained, by policy, so while they’ll be securely disposed of due to their reference to highly classified information, they’re yours to do with what you’d like. For you, that means writing them with a gorgeous gel pen in your favorite shade of purple.

It’s one thing when you’re submitting something official, on record, then you understand the need for a simple blue or black ink. Truly, you don’t mind all of the rules and regs, you wouldn’t have survived this long in the Navy if you did. Sometimes, though, it’s nice to branch out where you can, and for you an easy way is your note-taking. Your mom has always had the most beautiful handwriting, and is always taking notes, and jotting down thoughts and to-do lists in pens of all colors with stationery scattered around the house. While your handwriting is a far cry from hers, you definitely got her love of stationary and pretty pens. 

You’d once swapped Hangman’s pen for a sparkly pink gel pen after he’d made a bullshit comment about your notes, calling you Naval Aviator Barbie. You’d only agreed to give his original pen back once he apologized to you and Nat, and admitted that your ability to do your job and your pen choice are completely separate. That, and you made him promise to buy you each two drinks the next time you went to the Hard Deck. 

Was the punishment worth the crime? Not at all. You eagerly admitted to Nat later that you were already in a bad mood, and had lashed out even though you knew Hangman was just having fun. Sure he crossed a line now and then, but even you admitted that his pen comment wasn’t one of them. 

To your amusement, he refused to give back the pink pen and occasionally left you notes written in it, or loaning it to the rest of the team when they inevitably turned up without a pen. 

This time, it’s your turn without a pen. Normally you have a spare, but you suddenly realize that you forgot to grab an extra, last time you were in this situation. Looking down at your beautiful purple pen once more, you resign yourself to having to go grab a cheap pen from the box at the side of the room.

Sighing as you stand up to make your way to the box of shame cheap pens, you’re stopped by a hand on your arm.

“Did you say you needed a pen?” Bob asks.

“Yeah, I thought I had one.” You shrug. As much as you love your pretty pens, it really isn’t the end of the world, you’ve already spent a very silly amount of time thinking about it. 

“I have one!” Bob smiles as he reaches into his pocket. 

Bob, like you, appreciates a decent pen, though he’s more likely to stick to a standard blue. Which is why you’re surprised when he pulls an exact duplicate of the pen in your hand out of his pocket.

“Bob, you lifesaver. That’s my favorite pen! Thank you!” 

“I know. It’s no big deal.” He brushes off your thanks and heads back to his chair. 

You’re not sure how you got so lucky as to have Bob have one of your favorite kinds of pens ready for you, but you’re not complaining. In fact, it makes it even sweeter a few minutes later when Fanboy’s pen dies and he makes a show of getting a last-resort pen. As Fanboy grabs his new pen, you tear off the page you’re writing on and slide it over to Bob. 

Bob reads your thank you note (in your pretty purple pen) and smiles, while you try and avoid making eye contact with Nat. She knows you too well to accept ‘it’s polite to say thank you’ as an excuse for your handwritten note, and you definitely don’t want to have that conversation with her at work, in front of everyone. You wouldn’t put it past her to say something, especially since she’s been on you about catching you staring at Bob lately. You know that eventually you’ll cave and talk to her about it, but for now you make a show of focusing on your new pen and preparing for your next meeting.

3.

3:07 A.M.

Maverick’s Angels(Dagger Emoji)

You: Hey guys, ask me what I’m doing

You: Okay what are you doing, Hawk?

You: Thank you for asking! I’m currently sitting outside my building waiting for FD to shut off the alarm at my building for the third time. Third!! Twice now they’ve gotten it off just for it to start again within 30 seconds. I’ve been out here for an hour. 

You: I will both beg and pay whoever is getting coffee tomorrow (today???) to get me a large instead

You: Please

You: I’m like 99% sure it’s Coyote’s week. Javy I’ll love u forever.

You: & if I’m wrong, I’ll love whoever puts my coffee in my hand (sorry Javy. or not. If it is you. Idk anymore).

6:15 A.M.

Bob Floyd: Swap coffee runs with me. I’ll go this morning, you can go next week.

Bob Floyd: Please.

Javy Machado: (salute emoji) 

Sometime after the Uranium mission, after being stood up as a special detachment at North Island, you all fell into the routine of Friday morning coffee. You can’t even remember who started it, but someone suggested that once a week, someone stops by the coffee shop near base to pick up coffee for everyone. It’s close enough to base to not be wildly inconvenient, but the most important thing is that it’s off base. There’s only so much cheap government office coffee you can drink. 

You have a standing order for Friday mornings, and a rotation for who gets it. No one person has to be the one to pay, pick it up, or bring it more than once in two months with your arrangement. As far as anyone knew, it was supposed to be Coyote’s week to grab the coffee, so when you run into the briefing room (later than you normally would but not enough to be considered truly late), you’re surprised to see Bob handing out coffees.

You’re so busy complaining to Phoenix about how tired you are that you didn’t even stop to look down at the coffee being put in your hand before taking a sip of it. It’s a large as opposed to your regular medium order and you’re so thankful you sent that 3AM text in the group chat. As you take a sip, you’re pleasantly surprised by the flavor. 

On the weekend, the sweeter your coffee, the better. You love adding different syrups and flavors, trying whatever specialty latte or coffee the barista recommends. You’re just as happy with a simple medium iced coffee, black with one sugar, and you know that’s significantly easier for the weekly coffee roundup so on Fridays you keep your order simple. Which means you took a sip expecting an iced coffee, black with just a hint of sweetness, and instead you end up recognizing the taste of an iced maple latte, with a little cinnamon stirred in and what you think might also be an extra shot of espresso. 

Rooster comes flying into the room to grab his coffee, and you barely have time to toss Bob an extremely grateful smile and mouth a quick ‘thank you’, seconds before Maverick strolls in, grabbing his own coffee and going to the front of the room to start the day. 

When you woke up at your normal, much later than 3AM, time you had been pretty sure that your sleep-addled self was right, it was Coyote’s week to grab coffee. You’re so thankful you were wrong. Only Bob would have thought to change up your order and grab your number one favorite latte, knowing that you had a rough night (morning?). 

It’s not until later when you’re chatting with Fanboy that you overhear Bob thanking Coyote for swapping coffee weeks with him. You’re sure Fanboy notices the way you pause, mid-sentence while you take in this information, but he does you the favor of not saying anything, steering you back to your conversation while you wonder what, if anything, Bob might have meant with your coffee.

4.

You’re supposed to be heading out the door any minute to go see some local band perform. You should be leaving shortly, just as soon as Bob and Nat come to pick you up. The three of you will be going to meet Hangman, Rooster, Fanboy, and Coyote at the bar. Knowing how punctual Nat and Bob are, you were pretty proud of yourself for managing to be ready on time, until you couldn’t find your phone. As unnatural as it would feel to go out without it, it would be even worse since you were the one to download everyone’s tickets. 

So far you’ve triple checked the pockets of your denim shorts, checked the pockets of the comfy robe you wore getting ready, looked under the cushions of your couch, scoured every counter and dresser top, and you just can’t find it. If only this venue was more old school, you’d be able to print out a copy of your tickets from your laptop but no, they have to use a rotating QR code. 

“Fuck.” You groan, deciding to drop to your knees and check under the couch. You can’t imagine why it would be there, but considering you haven’t found it in any of the places that would have made sense, it’s worth a shot.

“Hi, it’s us.” Natasha calls out as she walks into your apartment. “Door was unlocked.”

“Come in.” You yell back from your spot searching under the couch.

You hear footsteps coming closer as Nat and Bob head into the living room, where they find you on your knees, ass up, searching for your phone. Your search feels even more urgent and even more ridiculous now that your friends have arrived to witness it.

“Damn, nice view.” Without being able to see her, you know Nat’s talking about your ass. You maneuver yourself so that the arm closest to her stops feeling around for your phone and instead snakes out from under the couch to flip her off. Unsurprisingly, Natasha laughs at this and you’re pretty sure you hear a chuckle from Bob.

“Um, Hawk, what’s up?” Bob tentatively asks.

Groaning one more time, annoyed with yourself, you scoot backwards out from under the couch and sit back on your heels, looking up at your friends.

“I can’t find my phone. I know we’re supposed to be on our way but I can’t find the damn thing I’ve checked everywhere. And even worse, I have everyone’s tickets on it.” You tell them, standing up and pointing out where you’ve already looked as Natasha starts retracing your footsteps.

Once you’ve finished your brief recap of where you were when you noticed it was gone, and where you’ve looked, Bob gives you a brief nod and heads into the kitchen. Shrugging, you and Natasha follow as he walks determinedly over towards your fridge where he reaches up, grabbing your phone.

“Oh my god, you found it.” Your jaw drops. “Maybe you really are a wizard.” 

“What the fuck, Hawk? Why would it have been there?” Natasha laughs, snapping a quick picture of Bob, the fridge, and your phone, to use to tease you about later. 

“What could have possessed me to put it up there? Thanks, Bob.” Walking over to grab your phone, you catch your reflection in the microwave. “Ah shit, give me one second, let me go fix my hair then we can go.” 

You dash off to the bathroom to smooth your hair back down from its slight messiness, caused no doubt by your search under the couch. 

“Alright, let’s go. I don’t want to hear shit from Bagman if we’re late.” Nat grabs your purse off its hook, calling out to let you know she has it as she heads outside to start the car. 

“Seriously, you’re a lifesaver Bob. How could you possibly know that’s where I put it?” You ask as you meet him by the door and duck down to tug on your shoes.

Bob shrugs, “I pay attention, and I know you.” 

For a moment, you’re so thrown off by the admission that you nearly stumble. You catch yourself, crouched down, one foot in the air, still trying to put on your shoe, and try to figure out how a person responds to something that kind and that blunt. Before you have a chance to do anything other than finish putting on your shoes, straighten up, and smile at Bob, you hear the car horn outside as Natasha indicates her growing impatience.

Together, you set outside as Bob waits while you lock up. You’re excited for tonight, you love going to concerts and spending time with your friends, and while you walk towards the car, you’re thinking about the possibility that your inevitable twirling around the dance floor with Nat might turn into a dance with Bob as well. 

“Ladies first.” Getting to the car half a step before you, Bob politely opens the front passenger door and gestures for you to take the seat next to Nat. As you climb in, neither you nor Bob say anything about the slight blush on both of your faces, and you hope that Nat’s too focused on pulling out of the driveway to notice. 

“So is this a good time to ask why you didn’t just log into your computer and transfer the tickets to one of us?” Nat asks once you get on the highway.

“It most certainly is not.” You reply, trying not to groan (again) at how flustered you were by your own confusing choice of places to set your phone.

“Whatever, fridge girl.” Nat looks like the cat that got the cream as you groan at your new nickname. You can only hope that you can remind her how much you love her as your best friend and talk her out of using it in front of the guys later. You know Hangman would never let you live it down, and he certainly doesn’t need any more encouragement to drive you nuts. 

“Seriously Bob, how did you know where my phone was?” You turn around to look at the man in the backseat.

“I’ve seen you put it there before, and then also forget where it is.” He admits, with a sweet smile that doesn’t feel mocking, even though you both know how silly it is.

“How have I never noticed that?” You’re asking yourself just as much as you’re asking him.

“Oh, whenever I notice, I move it back down to the counter so it’s easier to spot.” Bob says, in a very matter of fact way, like it isn’t one of the sweetest things you’ve ever heard. 

This time, you know that Nat catches the blush on your cheeks and from the look she’s giving you, you just know that you’re going to get pulled aside later to finally talk about your feelings. Depending on how many rounds you can talk Hangman into buying you first, you think you might just let her. Turning back to face the road, you decide that you aren’t just thinking about dancing with Bob, you’re actively hoping for it and looking forward to what the night might entail.

5.

It’s been half an hour since you sat down, and you’re getting the feeling that your date truly isn’t coming. You’d tried to rationalize to yourself that half an hour isn’t the end of the world (maybe traffic was bad) before remembering that you were already five minutes late to get to the restaurant, and it took them another fifteen minutes to seat you. So really, Prince Charming is 50 minutes late.

You groan, remembering Phoenix teasing you about your date in front of the rest of the team this morning, knowing that they’re bound to ask you about it tomorrow. The date was with some friend of a friend so you’re not all that broken up about him personally, it’s just the general feeling of embarrassment that stings. 

Picking your phone up, you text Phoenix that you’re admitting defeat and are trying to figure out whether you should cut your losses and call an uber to head home or stay and at least treat yourself to dinner. Until you see your phone light up and laugh at yourself for not assuming that your best friend would make the decision for you.

7:52 PM

Natty: Give me 15, I’m on my way. I’ll come in on my knees begging your forgiveness for being late. Take all of the attention off you and onto my groveling. 

You: You’re ridiculous. 

You: See you soon. 

You slide your phone away, recognizing that an apology text from your date won’t be coming and order a second glass of wine the next time your waitress walks by. You’re probably not the first person to have been stood up in this restaurant, but if the waitress gives you a look of pity one more time you might just melt into the floor. So you spend the next few minutes making a point to really read the menu, and hope that Nat won’t actually be too embarrassing when she shows up. 

“I’m sorry darlin’, I just completely couldn’t get away sooner.” Looking up, you’re shocked to see Bob standing in front of you, holding flowers, and wearing his uniform. You hear a soft aww from behind you as the waitress comes up to take Bob’s drink order.

Bob hands you the flowers as he sits down, and smiles at you. 

“Well hi there. I can’t say I was expecting you.” You smile at the flowers, and then at Bob.

“I was at Tasha’s and she mentioned what happened. She said she was going to come cause a scene begging for your forgiveness but then thought maybe me coming in late, in uniform, would make up for it as opposed to her groveling at your feet. Ya know, imply work’s why I was late.” Bob gestures to the uniform and blushes as the two of you laugh over the image of Phoenix begging your forgiveness. 

“Well, who can resist a man in uniform? I mean truly, why else do you think I even joined up?” You joke. 

It’s not a joke you’d make to most people, knowing that so many do think that way about women in the military. But you trust Bob. Mama Floyd raised a good one, and you know he’s never once thought of you or Natasha that way, and he frequently listens to you two complain about the guys who do. 

You’re still not entirely sure why it’s Bob coming to your rescue instead of Nat but you’re thankful he’s here saving you from further embarrassment and it’s not like you’re complaining about getting to have dinner with a kind, handsome man in uniform. Even if it’s the same uniform you have in your closet, and even if he’s just a friend. Because that’s all he is, right? Right. At least that’s all that you’ve let yourself admit. Gently shaking your head as if to physically knock those thoughts off to the side, you look back up at Bob.

“If you still want to go home, we can. I just thought that maybe this way you’d still get a nice dinner. I thought maybe it would be better…” Bob trails off, a shy shrug betraying his hesitation.

“Better than doing a solo walk of shame out of here alone, having clearly been stood up? It’s definitely better. Thanks, Bob. As long as you don’t mind being my date for the night.” You wink.

“Oh no, ma’am. Special orders from Lieutenant Trace to ‘do the charming gentleman thing’, and also for us to bring back ice cream.”  That doesn’t surprise you. You’re not sure which one of the three of you has the bigger sweet tooth, and regardless of how the night went you had already been planning to stop at the nearby ice cream shop to bring something back for a post-date debrief with Nat, hoping that maybe Bob would be there too. 

“Then let’s do it.” You slip your hand in Bob’s as the two of you look over the menu, and chat about your day. Eventually the waitress comes back with Bob’s drink and the two of you place your orders, with Bob politely letting you go first. 

When your food arrives, you reluctantly pull your hand out of Bob’s. You’re not entirely sure why Bob hadn’t pulled his hand away, maybe he’s trying to really sell your fake date for the waitress? Regardless, you like the feeling of your hand in his warm one and are more than happy, if a bit confused, to keep it there as long as you can.

“So, possibly-a-wizard Bob, the hiccup trick. How? And how did you even know I needed you?”

“Oh,” he laughs, “well I’d left my glasses cloth in my locker and always prefer having it on me before I go up, just making sure they’re as clean as possible before I’m in the air.” You nod, knowing exactly what he means. The two of you had joked before about wishing glasses had teeny tiny wipers like car dashboards, especially for people like the two of you with a job requiring such an attention to detail.

“I was walking past the training room and heard you hiccupping and Hangman’s loud mouth teasing you, so I figured that wasn’t the first one. As for the cure, no clue why it works. It’s a Nana Floyd special.” He admits. 

“Why am I not surprised, if anyone’s magic, it’s absolutely your nana.” You and the team had a chance to meet her when she came for a visit with Bob’s parents, and you immediately took a liking to the sweet woman. You’ve always been close with your own grandmother, and it certainly helped how much of Bob you could see in his nana. 

“Exactly, so I figured I had just enough time to help you out. I was just hoping it would work and that it wasn’t a Nana-only secret.” He smiles. 

“Fair enough, I’m pretty lucky the Floyd magic works for you too, then.” Trying not to think about how he could work his magic on you, you continue, “and speaking of, how did you have an extra one of my favorite pens ready to go?” You stop to take a bite of your dinner, never looking away from Bob.

“Oh, well I know you and Natasha can be particular about your pens and stuff so I usually have an extra, just in case.” 

Right then, the waitress stops by to ask how your meals are, and you realize that without even noticing, you two are almost halfway done eating. You’ve been so engrossed in your conversations, your actual date could have shown up with an entire brass band and you’d have been none the wiser. 

“Well, that’s incredibly kind. Thank you, Bob.” You smile, continuing your conversation.

“Anything for you, darlin’.” Bob looks at you earnestly before looking down at his plate, focusing his attention on grabbing another forkful of veggies.

The astonishing thing is that you think he might mean it. 

The two of you finish dinner and unsurprisingly, though you try to fight it, Bob insists on paying for the entire meal. 

“Hawk, I’m not letting you pay.” He rolls his eyes, good-naturedly, at your stubborn streak. 

“Bobby, I’m not making you pay for a date you didn’t even plan on taking me on.” 

“Come on, darlin’, don’t make me have to tell Nana that I didn’t pay for dinner on a date. You can’t do that to me.” He says with a smile, holding a hand to his chest as if the idea is physically painful. You smile and shake your head, giving in, and try not to melt too much as he shoots you a playful wink as he sets his credit card down on the table. 

With a wink that rivals Rooster’s, and gentlemanly charm like you’ve seen Hangman pull out once or twice, quiet but charming Bob could do some serious damage to the female population of San Diego. Even if he’s just here to save you, you’re feeling lucky to be the one receiving his attention. 

Bob finishes paying, and you get ready to go, making sure to grab your beautiful bouquet. 

“Now, what kind of date would I be if I didn’t get you that ice cream?” Bob asks as he takes your hand again, leading you out of the restaurant. 

“One that still brought me flowers and bought me dinner, which was especially kind as again, he was rescuing me from being stood up.” You tease.

“Let me put it this way, we both know how badly you want some ice cream, and even if I wouldn’t get it for you anyways, Nat’ll kill us if we don’t bring some back. So if I get to keep being your date for the next few minutes, I’m doing it right and buying you ice cream.” 

For a second, Bob almost looks nervous, like he’s said too much. For your part, you can’t stop thinking about how nice it would be to be on a real date with Bob, not just being two good friends out to dinner, one rescuing the other’s pride from serious embarrassment. 

“Alright, ice cream it is. Thank you.” You gently squeeze his hand as you wonder how much longer until he pulls away. You’re on your dream date with your dream guy and half of you wants to thank Phoenix and your missing date for their involvement, and half of you wants to curse them for putting this opportunity in front of you, only for you to know that it’s fake, just a friend doing a favor. 

There’s no time to think about that right now, as Bob leads you towards his truck, where he opens the door for you and holds your flowers while you buckle in. Either Bob’s a significantly better actor than you’d ever realized, or maybe, just maybe, this means something to him too. You think you might embarrass yourself too much if you worry about it tonight, so for now you decide to just enjoy the moment, knowing that you’ll tell Nat every detail later once Bob leaves. 

On the short drive to the ice cream parlor, you make up your mind. You’re going to let Bob buy you ice cream, drive you to Nat’s so you can all hang out, and then later once he heads home, you’ll stay and talk to your best friend about everything you’ve been thinking about all of the sweet little things Bob does for you. Then, if you’re brave enough, and if Nat doesn’t tell you that you’re making a catastrophic mistake, you might just plan to talk to Bob about it.

And then, 1. 

Part of you is nervous that you’ve been misreading everything, you know Bob’s a sweetheart to everyone. You’re sure that he would have helped anyone with their hiccups, and you happen to think you have great taste in pens and ink color, it’s not like you have a monopoly on their use or like it’s inherently romantic to have an extra pen for a teammate. Hell, he even keeps some for Nat.

You know he’s observant, that also explains being able to find your phone, right? But on the other hand, you can’t explain it all away as just being friendly. Bob could easily have let Javy grab you a large coffee, and there’s practically a million easier options he could have chosen instead of showing up to save you from your failed date, in uniform, with flowers. He could have let Phoenix come get you as she was planning, he could have joined her in coming to get you, and he could even have just come to pick you up by himself. 

Thinking back to sitting at that restaurant, holding Bob’s hand and looking at that sweet face while you talked, you can’t help but smile. No, there’s no denying it. Showing up dressed and ready to wine and dine you to save you from a bad day and a no-show date isn’t exactly the standard friendly course of action. You’re sure he wouldn’t have acted that way with Nat, as close as they are. Yeah, Bob is a sweetheart, but it has to be more than that. You want it to be more than that. More than that, you’ve talked the situation over nonstop with Nat as she insisted that this wasn’t just in your head.

Which is how you’ve found yourself standing on his doorstep, a bunch of sunflowers in one hand and takeout from your shared favorite burger place in the other. You adjust your sweater one last time and knock on the door. 

“Hi there.” The door opens and you’re quick to greet a very surprised Bob.

“Hi, darlin’. Nice flowers.” Ever since your ‘date’, Bob has let a ‘darlin’ slip in here and there. It takes more strength than you’d care to admit not to melt every time he says it. You like it just as much as when he calls you by your real name, as opposed to your callsign. Though you have to admit that ‘Hawk’ sounds pretty good coming from his lips, too.

“I’m glad you think so, they’re for you.” You hand Bob the flowers as you step past him into his house. 

“How do you know my favorite flower?” He looks at you curiously.

You could tell him that you’ve seen the fresh bunches he usually has around whenever you all come over for movie night. Or you could tell him that you remember meeting his Nana and hearing her call him Sunflower as she wrapped him up in a tight hug. You could even tell him that it was a lucky guess. But you remember a similar conversation a few weeks ago, so instead you smirk and take a teeny tiny step towards telling him how you feel.

“I pay attention, and I know you.” 

It takes a second for Bob to place the words, and somehow his smile gets even wider. He takes the flowers from you, and it takes all of your self control not to reach out and put your hand on his cheek, right where he’s blushing. 

You follow his lead, heading into his kitchen as he grabs a vase and starts trimming the flowers to go in it. 

“So, Bob. Last week, you rescued me with a great dinner. For tonight, I brought takeout.” You lift the bag in your hand. “I was thinking maybe we could go out for dinner later this week, if you’d like?”

“Sure, that sounds nice. With the team?” Bob looks up and sees you furrow your eyebrows.

“Oh, if that’s what you want!” You try to quickly recover from your disappointment. For what is probably half of a second but feels like an eternity, you and Bob just look at each other. Then, it hits you that you’ve had all of this time to process how you think Bob feels but when it comes to your feelings, you just sprung it on him. Well, no, that’s not quite right. You haven’t actually told him yet. Knowing Bob like you do, he’s probably taking the absolute safest route to avoid making things awkward in case you don’t mean anything other than friendship.

“Oh God”, you groan, “Can I try this again?” Bob nods, but he’s clearly not entirely sure what’s going on. 

“Okay, Bob, in addition to the flowers, I brought takeout for dinner tonight, as you can see. I was wondering if later this week, you’d like to go out for dinner. With me. As a date. This time, planned and on purpose. Together.” You don’t know if you’ve ever stumbled through a sentence like that, but you also have never asked out a guy like Bob, as wonderful and kind and jaw-droppingly handsome, so it makes sense you’re off your game.

“Oh!” Bob’s eyes get wide, and he looks down at the bouquet in his hands, smiling sweetly. “That sounds great, darlin’. I’d like that a lot.”

“Perfect, it’s a date.” You lean over and give Bob a quick kiss on the cheek, before going to grab plates and heading to the living room with the food. 

You hear the fridge open and turn around to ask, “Bob would you mind grabbing me a lemonade?” right as he comes into the room, already carrying a can of your favorite pink lemonade for you.

“Okay, see, it’s this! How do you do that, are you sure you’re not a wizard?” You tease.

“I’m sure,” he laughs, “I just know you.” And how lucky you are to be known by Bob. 

“I hope you know, it’s not just the gifts and the things you do for me that make me interested in you. I mean that’s part of it, sure. How could a girl resist a handsome man who always has her favorite drink ready and knows how to fix her when she’s running late and frazzled. You pay attention and you see me, but I see you too, Bobby.”

Bob looks down and smiles, a sweet blush coloring his cheeks. Bob does more than enough to show you he cares so you push on with your plan to make sure it’s clear how you feel, despite the slight worry that you’re coming on too strong. 

“I know that you love cooking, but you’d rather cook for all of us than just yourself on Sundays because if it’s just you then it feels like a chore to get ready for the week. I know that you’ll never admit that to your family who raised you on Sunday dinners, and that you probably called them this morning like you do every weekend to say hi. I know that when the first summer day rolls around, you’re going to drive with the windows down and country music on the radio.” 

You start putting your food onto your plates, giving you somewhere to direct your attention other than just intensely staring at Bob, as you continue. 

“It’s the way you always look for me in a crowd and save me a seat at the hard deck, and you listen to my stupid jokes, and remember the things I like. And I know you’re a good friend to all of us, but you do even more for me. You’re a good man, an incredibly kind man, Robert Floyd. The best I know.” Remembering what he said earlier, you add, “And I’m lucky to be known by you.”

This time it’s your turn to blush, worried that you’ve said too much. You were only planning to ask him on a date, not unload all of your feelings onto him. 

“Hawk,” he starts, before wordlessly taking the plate you’re working on out of your hands and setting it down on the coffee table. 

Bob gently places a hand on your cheek, and you’re already turning to look at him as he looks at you. 

“Darlin,” he tries again. You’re anxiously waiting to hear what comes next. How could you have never noticed the way that he looks at you before now? If you could have one wish for the rest of your life, it would be for Bob to keep looking at you like you’re the loveliest thing he’s ever seen. 

Then he says your name, your real name, softly, before slightly nodding to himself and moving even closer to you. The next thing you know, Bob’s lips are on yours and both of his hands are gently cupping your face, holding you as if you’re the most important thing in the world. 

Up until now, you thought it was a romance-novel cliche to sigh into a kiss. Now you hear yourself sigh and know better. You can’t imagine a world where you don’t know what it’s like to kiss him. You can't believe this is the first time you're getting to kiss Bob. Sweet, handsome Bob who pulls away, and gives you one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen.

“How could I not feel the same way? I’m the lucky one. Nat said you might be interested and I was worried I was overdoing it –” And this time, you lean in, pressing another kiss to his lips before he can even finish his sentence. Then suddenly you’re giggling into the kiss, thinking about the ways that you’ve hoped he was interested, and the ways he was desperately trying to broadcast his feelings while allowing you the space to comfortably reject him. 

“Do you think that maybe this time, Nana Floyd would be okay if I paid, since I asked you on the date? I mean, really, it’s feminism when you think about it.” You joke once you pull away.

“You know Nana’s all for girl power, but on the first real date? I don’t think so, darlin’.” 

“Hmm, that last date felt pretty real to me.” You admit.

“I know what you mean. Maybe our first real, planned date, is what I mean. One where I’m on time, and instead of grabbing the first bouquet I see to try not to be any later, I bring your favorite flowers, and if I’m lucky I get to kiss you goodnight.”

“There’s no chance I’ll let you leave without a kiss. But I don’t have a favorite flower.” You tell him, but Bob just laughs.

“I know you, and I also know that you think that’s true.” Bob winks again, and this time it’s even more incredible because you know he means it.

“We’ll see, Bobby.” 

He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before moving to pick up your plates. 

“Now what do you say we have dinner and watch a movie, darlin’. Then maybe you’ll let me be lucky enough for a preview of Saturday with another kiss.”

“I think I can do that.” You finish putting the food on your plates, splitting the regular fries and curly fries exactly in half between you.

Looking at the mischievous, confident look on Bob’s face, you say a quick thank you to the universe for letting you be the only woman in San Diego who gets to experience his charms like that. Falling for Bob is easy, especially when he goes out of his way to show his constant affection and attention, hiccup cures, shared dinners, and all.

[callsign-phoenix]

Happy celly, sweet Sophie! May I please request, with (shocking!) Rooster:

kissing the other’s brow.

😘 😚

Hello Cass!! 💛✨

Happy celly to you too, and thank you so much for the request!!

I’ll definitely manage to get something sweet done 😊

[seresinhangmanjake]

Fic Rec Masterlist

As requested, here is the list of all the fics recommended for my road trip :) Thank you to everyone who sent them in!

*if I missed any, let me know*

Many of these are 18+ and please read any warnings

Jake "Hangman" Seresin:

Damn Those Dog tags - @horseshoegirl (series)

Don't Hang'em Til Noon - @sailor-aviator (series)

If You Please - @the-authoress-writes (one-shot)

This is Only Temporary - @lenafromthenordiccoven (mini-series)

The Backup - @ereardon (series; in progress)

Snowed In - @ereardon (mini-series)

Sleepy Baby - @discount-shades (series)

Contract Spouse - @discount-shades (series)

Dead or Alive - @discount-shades (series)

Fuck: The Universe - @roosterbruiser (series)

Snitches Get Stitches - @goldenseresinretriever (series)

Oh, Deer - @wkndwlff (one-shot)

She Blinded Me with Science - @wkndwlff (one-shot)

Pulled Strings - @missathlete31 (one-shot)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw:

it's a slow build, baby, until afterburn - @callsign-madusa (series)

Terms of Endearment - @ohtobeleah (series)

The Actress and The Aviator - @greenorangevioletgrass (series)

That Summer - @ereardon (series)

Golden Hour - @ereardon (series; also with Bob; in progress)

Cruel Summer - @roosterbruiser (series; with Jake)

Cardinal Rule - @mamachasesmayhem (series; in progress)

Heavy is the Head - @mamachasesmayhem (series; in progress)

Honeyverse - @mamachasesmayhem (series)

Je te Laisserai Des Mots - @jupitercomet (series)

How You Play the Game - @roosterforme (series)

The Boyfriend Experience - @notroosterbradshaw (series)

Sunday Scaries - @wkndwlff (one-shot)

Bottoms Up - @wkndwlff (one-shot)

Ao3:

Wingmen - TheDarkSeaofSecrets

My Brother's Best Friend - Lyndun407

The Mission - Lyndun407

Recommended Masterlists:

Masterlist - @roosterforme

Masterlist - @wkndwlff

Masterlist - @bobfloydsbabe

Masterlist - @demxters

Masterlist - @hangmanssunnies

Masterlist - @top-hhun

@talkfastromance4

Masterlist - @callsign-phoenix

Masterlist - @kryptonitejelly

Masterlist - @callsigndragon

@callsignlucky

Masterlist - @jupitercomet

Masterlist - @beyondthesefourwalls

[callsign-fangirl]

Dagger squad pt 4?

Dagger1

Dagger2

Dagger3

Bonus

@theharddeck @hangmanshoney @bradshawsbaby @bradshawswife @callsign-phoenix @callsignuncle @bradleybeachbabe @sebsxphia @fanboygarcia @lewmagoo @bobfloydssunnies @top-hhun @iguana-braces @javihoney @justalonelyslytherin @floydsglasses @rhettabbotts @caystar13star @daggerspare-standingby @birdy-bat-writes @mothdruid @dragon-kazansky @garnette-gal @topguncortez @ysmmsy @robertcallsignbobfloyd @b-bradshaw @callsign-viper @bobfloydsbabe @floydsglasses @hxad-ovxr-hxart @lannisterdaddyissues @callsignstingray