#dagger squadron
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
tgmsunmontue · 7 months ago
Text
Crack-ish snippet because it just hit me... Cyclone: It has come to my attention that some of you have entered... relationships with one another. Cyclone: Now due to this potentially impinging on your ability to be impartial in the air I just need to know who is and who isn't. Not who with. Cyclone: Everyone that is... involved with someone in this room please take a step forward. *As one the entire Dagger Squadron step forward with the exception of Maverick*
*Admiral Kazansky walks into the room* *Maverick steps forward* Maverick: Looks like my ride is here. *salutes them and leaves*
502 notes · View notes
mare--noctis · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Series Concept
Old rivalries ignite new friendships as the boundaries between past and present blur. Love and loyalty are tested when the stakes soar higher than ever before. Who will navigate the turbulence of duty and desire, forging unbreakable bonds that transcend time? The end of one journey is just the beginning of another. Legends will rise. Hearts will soar. A legacy will live on.
Top Gun: Legacy is an anthology following the lives of 16 naval aviators over 40 years.
Top Gun: Danger Zone follows the friendship of LTJG Nick "Goose" Bradshaw and LT Pete "Maverick" Mitchell
Top Gun: Horizon follows the rise of the VFA-313 "Daggers" Squadron
Top Gun: Crosswind follows the uncharted waters between VADM Beau "Cyclone" Simpson and RADM Pete "Maverick" Mitchell
Top Gun: Hard Deck follows the history of LT Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and LT Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Top Gun: Afterburn follows the rise and fall of the relationship between ADM Tom "Iceman" Kazansky and CAPT Pete "Maverick" Mitchell
Creator Notes: I will get around to writing these one day. I hope.
Yes, I had to re-create the Top Gun logo from scratch to get it to work like this.
I took inspiration from the layouts of the 1986 movie posters.
This is one of my absolute favourite pieces of work I've ever done
Until next time,
Mare Noctis Studios
(K. E. Birch)
112 notes · View notes
redfurrycat · 1 year ago
Text
Mav, before he made a bet with Ice: CAPT
Tumblr media
Mav, after he lost a bet with Ice: VADM
Tumblr media
*
Mav: FUCK YOU, ICE.
Tumblr media
Ice: 😘
Tumblr media
105 notes · View notes
nixie-deangel · 1 month ago
Note
Trick or Treat! đŸ–€đŸ§ĄđŸ–€
Going to expand upon my oil worker Bradley x oil baron son Jake AU.
This one is post mission: where Jake flow with Mav and has some time off -both because of the intensity of the mission and the injuries he got from crashing- and has been requested to come back home and kind of gets bullied into going out to the rig with his dad and brothers. And only to come face to face accidently with his ex-husband, whom he hasn't spoken to in over four years.
And of course there's an accident or something where Bradley and Jake have to work together to get to safety and realize they are still very in love with each other.
Trick or Treat with Nixie!
11 notes · View notes
lesbiradshaw · 1 year ago
Note
Hiii is there anything we know about the dagger squad backgrounds that’s canon? Other than Jake being from Texas, is the stuff about what they studied/where they’re from headcanon? THANK U MUCH LOV
we don’t really know that much i don’t think but a majority of the background info i’ve found is either vaguely mentioned in the film or the paramount draft script you can find online ! bradley being a poli sci major at UVA and graduating in ‘09 is canon (and also very dear to me bc that was my major too plus i also graduated hs at 17 bc we are both #junebabies :]), jake originally got his call sign because bradley gave it to him and he hated it at first, bradley played baseball as a kid, mickey is a trekkie and also catholic or at least raised catholic (he crosses himself before they launch on the mission in the draft script), harvard and yale were the only duo that came from the same squadron together before the movie, and bradley and jake and natasha were in top gun together at the same time. there’s probably more backstory you could piece together for everyone by looking at their service medals/ribbons they wear but i fear i am not knowledgeable enough about that sort of stuff without a lot more research. they all mostly have the same ones but natasha has a NATO medal, jake has a navy unit commendation ribbon, and reuben has a joint service achievement medal.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
also silly canon details that aren’t background info but i still love: jake wears what i’m pretty sure is a class ring on his right ring finger, he’s also the only trainee i recall seeing actually wear his tags, he likes van halen and foghat and seems to be a classic rock fanatic, natasha wears a plain gold band on her left index finger, mickey, reuben, natasha, and bob all use those multicolor clicky pens, bradley is i think the only one of the main squad who doesn’t have the fingertips cut off his flight gloves, halo’s tank top has her squadron logo on it during the football scene, and those stupid jorts bradley wears were definely just jeans he cut the legs off himself 😭.
59 notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 7 months ago
Note
MEI i have severe top gun maverick brain rot and all i can think about is reader being the admirals daughter and everyone assumes rooster or hangman is gonna go after her but it turns out she’s been hooking up with bob for AGES and they’re all like ??? how did you do that???? bob gets kinda flustered but readers just like idk he was really nice and he’s really good in bed
"Check it out," Phoenix elbows Bob where the man is engrossed in reading the back of the bar napkins Penny had handed them so that they didn't stain her tables again, "There's Mav's daughter. 'Think she's got that Hawaiian shirt on to seduce Rooster?"
Bob's eyes dart to where you're chatting with Penny, his shoulders stiffening as his friends turn to watch you.
"Nah, Rooster doesn't like orange. But those cowboy boots she's got on are probably for Hangman- didn't he say he'd teach her how to square dance?"
Penny reaches over the bar to tug affectionately at one of your braids and Bob tries to no avail to break the conversation.
"Actually, she's-"
"I'd say she was here to meet Fanboy, but she doesn't date losers," Phoenix's eyes are narrowed dangerously, and she hides a smirk against the rim of her bottle.
"Hey! Hangman's a bigger loser than I am!" He protests, but before the taller man can trap him in a headlock, Penny points towards the dagger squad where they're lounged in a corner of the bar, and your eyes shine as you rush over.
"Bob!" You shriek, throwing your arms around his neck and letting your legs bend when he hoists you off of the ground for a hearty hug. His muscles are well hidden beneath his regulation khakis, but he's built for much heavier loads than you, and he lets you hover a few inches off of the ground while he hugs you.
Your face is buried in his neck but you press a kiss against his cheek, catching the bewildered blinking of the rest of his squadron over his shoulder.
"Oh. I forgot you didn't know." You supply, your feet back on the ground as Bob keeps one arm slung loosely around your waist, "Sorry, we- uh, we've been hooking up for a while, it's just... I haven't seen him since you guys got shipped out."
"You've been hooking up with her?" Coyote stares down his nose at Bob who shifts subtly closer to you, nodding once, stiffly in the face of his teammate's scrutiny.
"Damn. And he was good enough in bed to keep you waiting 'til he got back?"
Bob flushes - you feel his skin warm where it's pressed against your own, and you fill the awkward silence.
"Oh, please. I'm sure you've seen it in the locker room; I'd wait a lifetime."
Bob scoffs over your shoulder, now even more flustered, but Phoenix is happy to save the situation.
"Does your dad know?" She tilts her chin towards you, remembering how viscerally uncomfortable their Captain had been whenever someone had suggested you get together with one of his aviators.
"Of course he knows," You laugh, "He's the one that set us up! 'Said Bob had to get his hands on me before Texas over there tried to Hold 'Em."
Bob wraps an arm protectively over your chest, leaning over your shoulder from behind to return a kiss against your own cheek.
Hangman whistles lowly, shaking his head with a dazed look, "Well, shit. I didn't know the offer to hold 'em was on the table, but-shit!"
Bob's face darkens but Rooster levels the toe of his boot with Hangman's lower thigh, striking him at the back of the knee and subsequently spilling beer over his khakis. Hangman grunts as his knees knock against the beer-sticky floor, but he seems to know he deserved what he'd gotten because he doesn't retaliate.
"We'll wrangle him." Rooster promises, "You two go have fun, Bob you gotta quarter for the jukebox?"
"Yes'sir," Bob nods, tugging you towards a lesser populated area- perfect for slow dancing even if the bar isn't, "Let's make up for lost time, honey."
2K notes · View notes
gremlingottoosilly · 2 months ago
Note
Colonel!kƑnig × Ballerina!reader where he accidentally watches a ballerina performance and of course falls in love with the reader who plays the role of the evil swan
Konig never understood going to performances. Yes, it's something about being more cultured, actually seeing good art instead of the same raunchy novels his whole squadron is reading instead of doing something useful. He can't believe that the higher-ups would really waste so much money to give his whole team a bunch of tickets to a fucking ballet performance - but he guesses that it was on a very good sale. Enough of a deal to force at least 30 men and women out of their usual uniforms and into something resembling the parade ones - as much as he fucking hated wearing so many signifiers of his rank. It would always bring too much attention from civilians and too much teasing from his squadmates. Their pet colonel needs at least one tactical Horangi to actually talk to the receptionist. Konig never understood art - and he continued to never understand it when the first row of dancing girls went on the stage. They were pretty, he supposed, with long legs and pretty muscles - but honestly, pin-up models interested him a lot more. Maybe if the ballerinas would actually show their legs a bit more instead of dancing like a bunch of- You lock eyes with him - a huge man sitting in the front row in the audience, it's not that hard to miss him - and everything changes. For him. Somehow, someway. He didn't even get into the performance plot fully, but once you changed from an innocent, boring, samey-looking white swan into your black dress and bold makeup, he suddenly understood everything there was to be understood. Konig is an art lover now. Even if he can't quite remember the actual name of the play you're in. He doesn't know the proper etiquette for sitting through a ballet performance, but he punches a couple of his guys when they are trying to whistle at every somewhat romantic interaction between you and the male dancer. A bunch of fuckers noticed how their colonel was looking at you - and he is pretty sure that if he isn't firm enough with them, they might as well kidnap you as a pretty little gift for their commander. A small trophy in this endless war, a feeble attempt at busting the morale by getting their boss a girlfriend. Konig thinks that he won't even be opposed to said gift if it was proposed right about now. After the performance, he eye daggers every pathetic fuck who is giving you flowers - and it's quite a lot of people since you are prima and play the main role - right before actually dragging one of the poor guys into a secluded room and lightly punching him on the face until he is out, so Konig could take the opulent flower bouquet for himself. Just for him to stumble over his words and barely even say anything as he gives you the flowers, not knowing how to elegantly say he earns more than your ballet salary and he is willing to spend thousands of euros on giving you your own dance studio if you could only accept his flowers and- You giggle awkwardly at the giant man standing in front of you - you accept the flowers with a light smile and apologize for getting a bit of heavy makeup on his hand(Konig considers never washing his hand again) Yeah, Konig is definitely a cultured man who is going to every one of your shows now. And if you'd fall out of the organizer's favor and stop playing the main role... It's never too late to ask his boys to get their colonel a little treat.
949 notes · View notes
oldschoolfrp · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Zarakan's armory -- swords & daggers, battle axes, pole arms, flails, military forks, maces, war hammers, and crossbows (Down in the Dungeon, Don Greer and Rob Stern, Squadron/Signal Publications, 1981)
886 notes · View notes
callsigns-haze · 3 months ago
Text
You knew? Part 2 of 3
Tumblr media
Part 1
Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader! Callsign Ace
Chapter Summary: A week after Ace's near-fatal crash, she finally wakes up in the hospital, recovering from her injuries. Rooster, who has avoided seeing her since the email debacle, finally gathers the courage to visit her. Their conversation is tense and filled with unresolved emotions, as Ace confronts him about the betrayal she felt after discovering he was behind the anonymous flirtatious emails.
This chapter contains themes of emotional conflict, betrayal, and recovery from a near-death experience. Expect tense dialogue and unresolved emotions.
The sun cast a golden glow over the runway as the Daggers prepped for another intense day of training. Jets roared to life, ready to take off into the clear sky. The Dagger Squadron was assembled, but there was a noticeable shift in the air.
Ace, usually vibrant and at the centre of their group, had been distant for the past two months. Ever since the email incident, she’d cut ties with Rooster, Phoenix, not really Hangman as he was her wingman so she forgave him, steering clear of their usual hangouts at the Hard Deck and avoiding meals with the squad.
Now, she focused solely on her flying. Her interactions were brief, professional, and limited to the cockpit. As she strapped into her Dagger and prepared for the upcoming dogfight training, the silence between her and the rest of the squad was deafening. Today’s exercise was set: a mock dogfight in the air, with Ace flying solo against Coyote in his own Dagger, while Payback and Fanboy flew as a pair.
The jets ascended into the sky, climbing higher until the blue expanse stretched endlessly beneath them. The radio crackled with orders as they spread out, the simulated combat about to begin.
"All right, Ace, you’re up. Let’s see what you got," Coyote’s voice buzzed through the comms, a hint of competitive energy in his tone.
Ace’s eyes narrowed in concentration, her fingers gripping the controls as she scanned the sky for her opponents. She banked sharply to the left, cutting through the clouds as she trailed Coyote from above, attempting to line up her shot.
"You’ve gotta be quicker than that, Ace," Coyote taunted, pulling into a sharp climb to shake her off.
She smirked, pushing her Dagger to match his altitude, refusing to give him an inch. Behind them, Payback and Fanboy weaved through the air, keeping their distance while searching for an opening to strike.
The chase was fast and relentless. Ace and Coyote danced through the sky, trading sharp turns and evasive manoeuvres. The thrill of the hunt filled the airwaves, with each Dagger trying to gain the upper hand.
Then, without warning, Ace’s jet jolted.
"Warning: Engine failure. Malfunction detected," the voice in her cockpit announced in a cold, mechanical tone.
Her heart rate spiked as she checked her instruments. Something was wrong. The controls were sluggish, her jet unresponsive to her commands. She tried to stabilize, but the Dagger began to spiral out of control.
"Ace, what’s going on? You’re dropping altitude!" Coyote’s voice crackled over the radio.
She fought against the controls, panic clawing at her as the Dagger dipped into a sharp nosedive. The ground rushed toward her, but her body felt heavy, her vision blurring at the edges. She was slipping into G-LOC—G-force-induced loss of consciousness. Her breath became shallow, her body unable to react.
"Ace! You need to eject!" Payback’s voice boomed over the comms, urgency bleeding through the static.
But no one saw her eject. Her Dagger spiralled, falling faster as she lost the battle to stay conscious. On the ground, the entire squad was glued to the monitors, watching the terrifying descent. Rooster, Phoenix, Hangman, and the others stood frozen, their eyes trained on the screens, waiting for the tell-tale flash of her ejection.
But it never came.
"Come on, Ace
 pull the damn handle!" Rooster muttered under his breath, his fingers white-knuckled around his headset.
"She’s not ejecting. Is she unconscious?" Phoenix asked, her voice tight with fear.
Coyote pulled his Dagger up beside Ace’s, trying to get a visual. But it was too late. Her jet continued to plummet, the altitude rapidly decreasing.
"Mayday, mayday!" Coyote called out, desperation lacing his voice as he watched helplessly.
From the ground, they saw her jet spiral down until it disappeared from the screen. Silence filled the control room, the team paralyzed with shock as the realization hit.
"Did she—" Hangman started, but his words were caught in his throat.
No one saw her eject.
Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback, who had been up in the sky with her, were immediately recalled back to base. The radio buzzed with orders.
"Coyote, Fanboy, Payback—return to base. Now," the voice over the comms was firm, but there was no mistaking the urgency.
"Roger that," Coyote responded, his voice unusually sombre. He felt a weight pressing against his chest. None of them had seen Ace eject, and the sinking realization of what that might mean gnawed at him as he flew back.
The three Daggers touched down swiftly, their wheels skidding across the runway as they taxied to a stop. Before they could even unstrap from their jets, the rest of the squad came running, concern etched on their faces.
Rooster was the first to reach Coyote, grabbing his flight suit as he yanked him toward him, eyes wide with fear and questions. "Did you see her eject? Did she make it out?"
Coyote shook his head, face grim. "I didn’t see anything. I tried to get close, but she wasn’t responding. I couldn’t—"
Rooster let him go, stumbling back slightly as his mind raced. "No... no, no, no..." he muttered under his breath. Phoenix and Hangman rushed to Fanboy and Payback, their faces pale, voices rapid with questions.
"How low was she?" Phoenix asked, her voice trembling. "Did she even have time?"
"She was already in a nosedive when I saw her," Fanboy said, his hands shaking slightly. "It happened so fast."
Payback wiped his face with his gloved hand, trying to steady his breathing. "She didn’t respond to any of the comms. I don’t think she had time to eject."
Behind them, Maverick appeared, his expression stern and focused. He didn’t ask questions. Instead, he headed straight for the medical search plane, already prepared to take off. Without a word, he boarded, motioning for the search crew to follow.
"Let’s go. We need to find her," Maverick ordered, his voice commanding, though there was a heaviness to his tone that wasn’t missed by the others.
As the search and rescue plane lifted off, the remaining Daggers were left on the tarmac, standing in a tense, suffocating silence. Rooster, Phoenix, Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy, Payback, and Bob all stood in a loose circle, watching the horizon, their minds racing with the possibility of what they might hear next.
Minutes passed like hours. No one said a word. The weight of what might have happened to Ace settled over them like a heavy blanket, each of them replaying her crash in their heads, trying to make sense of it.
Finally, the radio crackled.
"We’ve located her Dagger," a voice came through. "Wreckage is extensive... no sign of an ejection. We’re sending in the medics now."
Rooster clenched his fists, trying to hold himself together. Phoenix closed her eyes, a silent prayer forming in her mind. Hangman paced back and forth, unable to stand still, his face tight with worry.
Maverick’s voice came next, calmer, but tense. "We found her. She’s alive, but barely. She’s in bad shape. Get the medics ready at base—she’ll need immediate attention."
The relief was immediate but short-lived, crashing against the rising tide of panic. "Alive" didn’t mean safe. Rooster stepped closer to the comms, trying to catch every word, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table.
"Severe condition," Maverick continued. "Multiple injuries, possibly from G-LOC and impact. We’re stabilizing her now, but it’s critical. She needs to be flown out immediately."
Phoenix covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with tears she fought to hold back. Fanboy turned away, unable to face the others as the reality hit. Hangman stopped pacing, his fists clenching by his sides. The usually cocky pilot was quiet, his expression unreadable, but the tension in his posture was clear.
The medical team on base was already on standby, rushing toward the landing area as the search plane prepared to return. The remaining Daggers gathered near the runway, standing in a tight group, waiting for any sign of Ace. Each of them wrestled with their thoughts, guilt creeping into their minds—wondering if there was something they could have done, something they missed.
Minutes later, the medical search plane landed with Ace on board, strapped to a stretcher and surrounded by medics. They worked quickly, moving her onto a gurney as they rushed toward the base’s medical centre. Maverick followed closely behind, his jaw set, but the worry was clear in his eyes.
Rooster watched, his heart pounding in his chest. The brief glimpse he got of her was enough to make his stomach drop—she was pale, her body bruised and battered, a mask over her face supplying oxygen. It was clear she was hanging on by a thread.
"Is she going to make it?" Hangman asked quietly, his voice uncharacteristically subdued.
No one had an answer. The squad stood in stunned silence, watching as their teammate, their friend, was whisked away to the medical wing, her fate uncertain.
Phoenix swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "She has to make it. She has to."
-
Ace was rushed through the hallways of the base’s medical centre, her stretcher surrounded by a flurry of medics shouting urgent commands. The sound of her ragged breathing through the oxygen mask was barely audible over the hurried footsteps. Her face was pale, her body still and battered from the G-LOC and subsequent crash. The medics moved with precision, wheeling her straight to the emergency trauma unit.
“We need to get her into surgery now!” one of the medics yelled, pushing open the doors to the operating theater.
The surgeons were already scrubbed in, awaiting her arrival. IV lines were attached, monitors were set up, and the sound of beeping machines filled the room. Her vital signs were weak, teetering on the edge of stability. The head surgeon quickly assessed her injuries, noting the signs of severe trauma from both the high G-force and the crash impact.
"She’s got multiple fractures, possible internal bleeding, and signs of severe G-LOC trauma," the surgeon announced, as they began prepping for surgery.
The doors to the operating room swung shut, and the medics filed out, leaving Ace in the hands of the surgical team.
-
In the Hallway
Outside, the Dagger Squad sat in the waiting area, the tension suffocating. None of them had said much since Ace was wheeled away. Rooster leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, staring at the ground as if trying to make sense of the last few hours. His mind was racing with worry and guilt. He’d been tough on Ace, both in the air and on the ground, and now she was fighting for her life.
Phoenix sat next to him, her foot tapping nervously against the floor, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She couldn’t shake the image of Ace’s jet spiralling out of control, nor the sight of her pale, motionless body when she was brought in. "Come on, Ace," she whispered under her breath.
Hangman paced the length of the hallway, his usual bravado completely absent. His jaw was clenched, fists balled tightly at his sides. He’d been the one who set up the whole email situation, thinking it was just some harmless fun. Even though she forgave him, they still weren't back to normal. Now, guilt gnawed at him with every step he took.
"She’s tough. She’ll pull through," Hangman muttered to himself, but it sounded more like a prayer than a statement of confidence.
Coyote sat further down the row, staring blankly at the door leading to the operating room. He replayed the training flight in his head, going over every detail, wondering if there was something—anything—he could have done differently to prevent the crash.
Fanboy and Payback sat together, whispering to each other every now and then, though their voices were low and full of worry. Bob, the quietest of the group, sat against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his face a mix of worry and helplessness.
The minutes dragged on. Every time a nurse or doctor walked through the hall, the squad straightened, hoping for an update, but the news never came. The tension was thick in the air, each of them lost in their own thoughts, consumed by fear for their friend.
Maverick entered the hallway, his face a grim mask of calm. He had been overseeing the rescue efforts, but now that Ace was in surgery, there was nothing more he could do but wait. He exchanged a few silent nods with the group before sitting beside Rooster.
“How is she?” Rooster asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“They’re doing everything they can,” Maverick replied, his tone steady but strained. He knew better than anyone how critical the situation was, but he didn’t want to add to their already overwhelming fears.
Hours seemed to pass as they sat in silence, the only sounds in the hallway being the occasional shuffle of footsteps or the distant hum of medical equipment. No one knew what to say, and the weight of uncertainty hung heavily over them all.
Every so often, one of them would glance toward the operating room doors, hoping to see a doctor emerge with good news. But the doors remained shut, and the tension in the room grew thicker with each passing second.
Finally, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. The squad all turned toward the noise, holding their breath. A nurse approached, her expression neutral, but the look in her eyes was serious.
“The surgery’s still ongoing,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “It’s going to be a long one. She’s stable for now, but it’s critical. The doctors are doing everything they can.”
“Stable,” Phoenix repeated, the word a fragile lifeline she clung to. “That’s something.”
The nurse nodded. “It is. But it’s still touch and go. We’ll keep you updated.”
The squad nodded in unison, though the news wasn’t as reassuring as they’d hoped. The wait continued, with everyone’s minds now filled with images of Ace in the operating room, fighting for her life.
Each of them sat, stood, or paced, trying to pass the time, but every second felt like an eternity as they waited for any sign that Ace would be okay.
----
One Week Later
The sterile scent of the hospital room lingered in the air, blending with the steady beeping of the machines that monitored Ace’s vitals. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the room. Ace lay in the bed, her body still aching from the injuries she’d sustained, but she was finally awake. Her head throbbed faintly, and her muscles felt weak, but she was conscious—and alive.
It had been a week since the crash. A week of surgeries, recovery, and slowly regaining her strength. The Dagger Squad had visited her throughout the week, offering support and well-wishes, but Rooster hadn’t shown up once.
She wasn’t surprised. After the email situation, their relationship had soured more than ever. The betrayal she’d felt after realizing it was Rooster on the other end of those flirtatious emails still stung, even more so after the crash. She had expected him to stay away.
As she stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, the door creaked open. She looked over, and her eyes widened slightly as Rooster stepped inside, his expression uncertain.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice a little rough, like he had rehearsed what he was going to say a thousand times but still wasn’t sure how to begin.
Ace tensed slightly but didn’t say anything right away. Her eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and something else—resentment, maybe—but she masked it quickly, keeping her face neutral.
Rooster took a few hesitant steps toward the chair by her bed. He looked uncomfortable, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his flight suit as he stood awkwardly by the door, unsure if he should sit or not.
“I—uh, I thought I should come by,” he continued, finally deciding to sit down. He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar nervous gesture she had seen countless times before, but now it felt different. “It’s been... a lot.”
Ace raised an eyebrow, though the movement sent a dull ache through her head. “A lot,” she repeated, her voice flat.
Rooster winced at her tone but didn’t back down. “I know I should’ve come sooner. I justïżœïżœïżœdidn’t know what to say after everything. After what happened with the emails and then... this,” he gestured vaguely toward her, indicating her injuries.
Ace remained silent, her eyes focused on him but her face giving nothing away. She wasn’t ready to make this easy for him, not after everything that had happened between them.
He sighed, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I know I screwed up with the whole email thing. I didn’t mean for it to... go the way it did, I didn't know it was you at the start either. It was supposed to be some dumb fun, but it hurt you, and I’m sorry.”
Ace’s jaw tightened, her mind flashing back to the moment she had discovered Rooster was the one behind the anonymous emails. The betrayal still felt fresh, even after weeks of avoiding him.
“You have no idea,” she said quietly, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. “You have no idea how much that messed with my head, Bradley.”
Rooster flinched at the use of his first name, a sign of how serious things had gotten. She almost never called him that. “I know. I get that now.”
“No,” Ace interrupted, her voice stronger now, though strained from disuse. “You don’t get it. You thought it was a game. I thought... I don’t know what I thought, but it wasn’t that. You led me on, Rooster. And for what? A joke? Some sick competition?”
Rooster looked down at his hands, guilt written all over his face. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t—” He paused, searching for the right words. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It just got out of hand.”
Ace clenched her fists beneath the hospital blanket, frustration bubbling up inside her. She had spent weeks—months—trying to figure out why she had been so blindsided by him. It wasn’t just the betrayal, it was everything leading up to it—the animosity, the tension, the constant bickering. And then, suddenly, the emails had made her think there was something different, something more.
“Out of hand?” she echoed, her voice bitter. “You humiliated me.”
Rooster’s gaze shot up, his expression pained. “I didn’t mean to.”
Ace exhaled sharply, leaning back against the pillows, exhausted from the conversation but too frustrated to stop. “And then you didn’t even come to see me. Not once. I almost died, Rooster.”
He looked like he had been punched. “I know. I was... I didn’t think you’d want to see me. After everything.”
“That’s your excuse?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief. “I’ve been lying here, dealing with all of this, and you just couldn’t be bothered to show up because you were afraid?”
Rooster opened his mouth to respond but stopped, realizing there was nothing he could say that would make it right. He couldn’t take back what he’d done, and he couldn’t fix the way he’d hurt her.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice raw. “For everything. For not coming sooner. For the emails. For being an idiot.”
The room was thick with tension, the air heavy between them. Ace watched him, her anger simmering beneath the surface. She didn’t know if she could forgive him—not yet, maybe not ever—but part of her was too tired to keep fighting.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Rooster added, his voice almost a whisper. He looked at her with genuine concern, the guilt and regret clear in his eyes.
Ace didn’t respond right away. Instead, she closed her eyes and let out a long, slow breath. “I don’t know what to say to you right now, Rooster.”
He nodded, standing up slowly. “I get it. I won’t push you. But I’m here if you ever want to talk. I mean it.”
Ace opened her eyes, watching him as he moved toward the door. He hesitated for a moment before glancing back at her. “Take care of yourself, Ace.”
And with that, he was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts, the weight of their conversation settling heavily on her shoulders.
Please comment, like and reblog!
223 notes · View notes
reallyneedsalife · 3 months ago
Text
"Roo, whats that?"
"..a cat?"
"That has too many wings to be a cat, kiddo."
"...a cat in Dagger Squadron gear?"
"It's a Goose, love."
"I thought so too- Bradley why do you have a Goose?"
"Jake just said 'Hold this, Bradshaw' and then walked off."
283 notes · View notes
withahappyrefrain · 3 months ago
Note
"For someone who hates me, you're not pulling away."
Feels like this was MADE for Jake!
Tumblr media
"You gotta be fucking kidding me," you muttered, praying your sunglasses would conceal what you were really looking at.
It seemed like a higher being was out to personally spite you. Because not only were you being forced to spend the whole day with the guy you hated,
He looked fucking hot without a shirt.
Of course he did. It wouldn't be fair if he had a physical flaw, the universe had decided it so.
It was supposed to be a bonding experience, pilots versus mechanics. Why was beyond you, considering you actually liked everyone in your current squadron.
Well, except one pilot. A blonde pilot. A cocky pilot. A pilot who thought the sun rose for them personally to shine a light on their ass. A pilot who had become the bane of your existence.
"Hey Rosie!" You ignored the nickname (all because you wore a fucking red bandana) he insists on calling you, turning to your coworkers instead.
"Your not so secret admirer has arrived," your coworker Nicole giggled.
"Please don't remind me. I already have a headache from him and the game hasn't even started," your index fingers rubbed your temples in a vain effort to soothe the dull ache that came from Jake Seresin.
"Well don't look now but he's coming your way," and with that Nicole walked away, no doubt to go flirt with Bob.
"Hey Rosie, looking pretty good," he pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, making it clear he was looking at you.
"You're going to get burnt with all that baby oil, Seresin," you stared at your phone, not wanting to make eye contact. Or to look at his broad chest.
"Aww, you care about me." He was close. Too close. You could see the hair on his broad chest.
"The same way one cares about a dying mosquito," you took a step away, hoping it would deter him.
Jake has the audacity to chuckle, "You're funny Rosie. Why don't we make this game a little more interesting?"
You raised your eyebrows in mocked surprise, "You're actually going to show good sportsmanship? I'm impressed Seresin, miracles really do come true!"
If your comebacks deter him, he doesn't show it, which is honestly the worst part. No matter what you say, it doesn't drive him away. No, it has the opposite effect, encouraging him to continue to try and interact with you!
Fucking Seresin.
"Nah, but God, you're real cute Rosie," he has that stupid smirk on his face, the one you hate so much. His perfectly white teeth are showing as he oozes Hollywood charm. It's the smirk that makes you briefly consider continuing to chat.
"What do you want Seresin?" You grumble, looking down at the sand. The warmth you felt washing all over your body was clearly the sun, nothing (or no one) else.
"Why don't we make a bet?"
"What are you, twelve?"
Again, he chuckled, as if he found your remarks amusing rather than insulting, "C'mon Rosie, there must be something you want."
"For you to leave me alone." If you had looked up from kicking the sand, you would have seen the assured look on his face fall, his brows knitted together in worry, the corners of his lips turning downward.
But you didn't, giving him time to remask, "Alright Rosie, if y'all win, I'll leave ya alone."
The offer made your head shot up, "And if your team wins?"
His grin widens, "You know me Rosie, I'm a simple man." Lies. "There's not too much I want, just one thing really."
"Just name it Seresin."
"A kiss."
He couldn't be serious. He was.
But your crew had prepared for this game. Nicole would certainly be able to distract Bob, was the dagger's dark horse. You felt good about your chances.
So you shook on it.
Which is how two hours later, you ended up in the parking lot, pressing Jake against his stupid Jeep Wrangler, your lips on his, hands tangled in his stupidly soft hair.
"For someone who claims they hate me, you're not pulling away," He murmurs, victory written smugly across his face.
"Shut up and kiss me Seresin."
"Anything for you Rosie."
356 notes · View notes
needforspeed161 · 19 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Hey Admiral
My friend and I were talking about a scenario like this and I decided to write a little something for it. Since Cyclone looks up to Ice so much this would be hilarious to see play out 😂
CYCLONE DOESNT REALIZE ICE AND MAV ARE MARRIED.
Cyclone had it up to HERE with Maverick, constantly correcting him and becoming quite irritable with his “teaching methods” as he called them.
Why on earth a man as revered as the legendary Iceman would request a man as reckless and untamed as Maverick to teach the top pilots in the world at TOP GUN OF ALL PLACES! For what he is sure would be one of the most dangerous, high enemy contact level mission any of these pilots would ever experience in their lives was beyond him.
“Admiral” Ice spoke, taking a seat across from him, Beau stood at attention as the COMPACFLT seated himself before him.
“Evening sir” he spoke, militant as ever.
“So to what do I owe the pleasure” Ice waved a waitress over, grabbing a glass of his classic vodka on the rocks as Cyclone opted for a brandy.
“About Maverick
”
The warm chuckle that spread throughout the blonde, now graying, Admirals chest stopped the three star in his tracks.
“My apologies sir, I wasn’t intending to be comical”
“No Beau it’s not that” Ice took a gentle sip from his drink, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “It’s just that if I had a dollar for everytime one of these dinners or meetings began with ‘so about Maverick’ I could have retired 10 years ago and have two Mercedes in my driveway”
Beau looked at his hands momentarily, unsure of what to say. Soon Tom continued.
“Anyways, I digress, what did he do this time”
Ices softer stare met his colleagues as he took another drink, before looking down at the menu on the soft white table cloth.
“His training methods for the Dagger squadron are
.interesting to say the least, unorthodox is the better term.”
“Oh? Do tell”
“For instance, they were supposed to be practicing formations for the bombing run yesterday and I found them playing on the beach like children”
“Hm” Ice grunted softly, paying attention as the waitress came by again, interrupting them.
“Good evening sir” she spoke with a small smile at Tom. “Your usual sir?” Tom nodded
“Thank you Katherine, Beau? Care to order?”
Cyclone didn’t think to hard as to why Ice knew this woman, and frequented this place often enough to have established a ‘usual’. Ice was the COMPACFLT, he probably enjoyed some nicer expensive dining from time to time.
“No green eyes tonight?” She asked, and Tom shook his head. “No my dear, all buisness tonight”
She frowned slightly and put her hands on her hips. “Well darn, please tell him I said hello, I’ll go put your order in gentlemen.”
“I definitely will, Thank you my dear” Ice waved as she disappeared, rounding the corner.
Cyclone decided not to comment, first of all he and Ice were close but not so close as to ask questions about his love life. Let alone the fact that it was apparently another gentleman he often frequented this place with. Who was he to judge, since the DADT repeal and Ice becoming one of the most powerful men in the military, no one could say shit even if they had a mouthful.
“Apologies for the interruption, as you were saying?”
Beau cleared his throat. “Yes, sir, he completely ignored my hard deck perameters and is running these pilots through ridiculous exercises, we have less than a week to have them mission ready
”
Their conversation went on for a couple more hours as they ate, and as they both stood to leave Ices hand found Cyclones shoulder.
“I know Captain Mitchell can be a hard pill to swallow sometimes, but he’s a brilliant pilot, best the Navy has to offer, I’ve flown with him for many years, and he’s done many things I may not have understood, but he was always reliable, always had his head in the game and always made sure everyone, including me, made it back home safe. Be patient with him Admiral, give him a shot”
Cyclone huffed out in annoyance slightly, but let his shoulders fall. “Yes sir, I’ll do my best”
“Thanks Beau” Tom spoke, dropping the formalities. “And thank you for the company, but I’m a little past curfew and need to get home” Ice winked, Bidding him goodbye and getting in his car to head home.
—————————————————————————
The next day seemed even worse, Admiral Simpson was being driven up a wall, two seconds away from punching the brunette square in the face. If not for Ices encouragement he probably would have by now.
That evening he returned to the ready room to see, SHOCKER! EVERYONE WAS GONE!
Anger rose in his throat, he knew exactly where he was going.
Throwing his truck in park in perhaps the most aggressive way he could, the man, still clad in his khakis and medals, stormed in through the swinging saloon doors of the Hard deck, seeing all of his pilots and one infuriating Pete Mitchell drinking beers and playing rounds of pool.
Laughing, smiling and joking together, if he weren’t so angry he would have liked to admit that it even looked
.fun.
“CAPTAIN MITCHELL!” He shouted. As if on cue the music came to a winding stop and all heads turned to look at him.
Pete not looking worried in the slightest.
“FRONT AND CENTER! NOW!”
Handing off his beer to Bradley with a nod, sharing a quiet word with him that couldn’t be made out clearly. He walked towards the angry, taller brunette. As the rest of the gang tentatively went back to playing pool, quietly, as if walking on eggshells.
“Admiral Simpson, sir” Maverick spoke. Smug grin on his face long gone and replaced with a tight line drawn between his lips.
“What in the hell is this?! We have a mission less
Than TWO WEEKS out that requires absolute focus! And before you try and brush this off as one of your bullshit ‘team building exercises’ just know I’m going to look forward to reporting this directly to admiral Kazansky! And-“
“Reporting what exactly to Admiral Kazansky?” A voice spoke, interrupting his statement, as the taller, angrier man turned to see the familiar face returning with two drinks in his hand.
Immediately straightening his posture and clearing his throat. He took in a very casually dressed Tom Kazansky.
“A-Admiral sir!”
“At ease Admiral, so what did Maverick do this time”
His eyes followed the movements of the slightly taller man, coming up to stand beside Pete, handing him a beer.
As Cyclone began to go into what he saw.
“Is that so Mitchell? Little old you did all that?” Ice threw his arm around Mavericks shoulder. Seeing the smug smile return to his lips.
“I can neither confirm or deny that statement” Maverick chuckled.
“My apologies on behalf of my husband Admiral, it seems he wasn’t aware of todays training layout”
Cyclones jaw may as well have been on the floor, throat tightening at a loss of words.
“H-husband sir?”
“Ah!” Ice almost looked surprised.
“How rude of me Admiral, I’d like to formally introduce you to my husband, Pete Mitchell-Kazansky, though for work purposes everyone still knows him by Mitchell.”
Just at this time Bradley walked up behind them.
“Hey dad, pops” he squeezed both of their shoulders and looked at Admiral Simpson. “Admiral”
“Lieutenant” he scoffed in return. Still attempting to process all of this new information.
“Wait so, at the restaurant, the waitress, green eyes is-“
“The one and only” maverick smirked, leaning up to give his husband a kiss on the cheek.
“Now Admiral, if you don’t mind we’d like to get back to our game, you’re welcome to join us if you’d like.” Ice invited, gesturing his head towards the rest of the squad.
Cyclones mouth open and closed again. Unsure of what to do next.
“Cmon Sir, first rounds on me, loosen up a little” Bradley smiled, eyes bright and hopeful. As Cyclone turned to the rest of the team, smiling at him as well.
“I guess one drink couldn’t hurt
.but I’m kicking your ass at a game of pool first Bradshaw”
As the two men walked back towards the pool tables, newly acquired beers in hand and jokes being flung back and fourth. Maverick pulled ice against his side by his waist. Smiling up at him with big green eyes, clinking his beer against the taller man’s glass.
“This is going to be fun” he smiled.
“Couldn’t agree more darling”
136 notes · View notes
awaywith-thefaeries · 2 years ago
Text
YOU MIGHT WANT TO STEP ASIDE | j.seresin
Tumblr media
pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x floyd!reader
summary: two times your boyfriend and twin brother had to stand up for you, and the one time you shocked them by doing it yourself
warnings: anxiety, shy reader, protective Hangman, protective Bob, insecure reader, self doubt.
a/n: this idea came about when @cherieann-2001 and I were discussing the dagger squad with twin siblings, and we came up with Bob’s twin sis. @cherieann-2001 i’m sorry this took me so long! I hope you like 😊.
word count: 4K
masterlist
the time where your brother introduces you to his friends

The noise coming from the beachfront bar makes you pause as you follow behind your twin brother. Your hand reaches up unconsciously to grab at the back of Robert's uniform, tugging just hard enough to make your brother pause and turn around to see your eyes shooting from side to side, one of your clear tells when you're nervous.
"You're ok, y/n/n," Robert says gently, bringing his hands up to rest on your shoulder's, knowing from experience that the weight of it brings you comfort when you start to get anxious.
"I...I d....don't think I w...want to g...go in there, Robbie," you say, tripping over your words as your breathing starts to get heavy.
"It's gonna be okay, y/n/n, you're gonna be just fine," Robert says again, pulling you into a tight hug in which you manage to get your breathing under control, "it's just gonna be Nat and some of my squad, we'll have our own table and you don't have to talk to anyone else for the entire night if you want."
Robert can see the exact moment when you make the decision to come into the bar, the spark of curiosity lighting in your eyes at the mention of your brother's co-pilot. You had met Natasha "Phoenix" Trace shortly after your brother's squadron had been permanently assigned to the San Diego base, where you had been working as a kindergarten teacher for the on-base school for the past two years. Being so close to your brother again has been so fun, with the two of you hanging out in every spare moment you had.
The two of you had grown up very close, with Robert being the protective older brother (by three minutes, you had always been quick to whisper sarcastically under your breath whenever he had tried to pull rank) to your quiet, unconfrontational manner.
"Are you ready to go in, or do you need a minute?" Robert asks, hand coming up to rest on the top of your head.
"I...I'm ready," you say, reaching out to tug on your brother's arm and follow after him as he puts his arm around your shoulders and steers you toward the entrance to the bar, under the shining sign reading THE HARD DECK.
Immediately, the noise of the bar makes you flinch and Robert's arm around your shoulders squeezes slightly, and you turn to look at him, finding him already looking at you, asking you if you're okay with his eyes.
You nod at him and tap on his hand, which he lets fall off of your shoulder as he nods towards a booth near the back of the bar, situated right by a pool table. You drop slightly behind him as you follow, preferring to take in your new surroundings from your slightly hidden vantage point behind your brother.
"Bob!" A voice calls from the direction of the table, and you peek slightly around your brother's shoulder to watch as a tall blonde man with the most beautiful smile you've ever seen saunters up to Robert and swings an arm around his shoulders, pulling him forward into a light headlock. You watch, slightly frozen as your brother laughs and fake punches the new man in the stomach, causing him to release Robert, and take a step back, hands going to his hips, stance relaxed as he smiles.
You're so entranced with watching your brother and his pretty friend that you don't notice Natasha coming up on your right, holding a glass of sparkling water in one hand.
"Hey, Y/n," she says softly, just loud enough for you to hear, but not so loud as to startle you.
You turn to look at her, and the first real smile of the night graces your lips.
"Hi Nat," you say, voice quiet as she smiles. She gently holds out the glass of sparkling water to you.
"For you!"
You look down and take the drink from her, thanking her shyly as she smiles at you and tips her head towards the booth, inviting you to go sit with her.
You glance at your brother, finding him already watching you, the tiniest gleam of pride in his eyes as he nods encouragingly. You smile and as you’re turning back to Nat, your eyes meet those of the man who had greeted your brother. He’s looking at you, not staring so much as just observing, and you shiver a little under the the intensity of his green eyed gaze.
Taking a tiny leap of faith, that has your stomach whooshing from the unfamiliarity of it all, you shoot the stranger a shy smile, before quickly ducking your head and sitting down next to your friend.
Much later, you’ve loosened up enough to laugh a little with Nat, who has been sitting with you at the table since you’d arrived. You have even met some of your brothers other pilot friends, including the first guy who had approached the two of you. You’ve learned that his name was Jake, but everyone calls him Hangman. You haven’t had the courage to ask why they call him that, but you noticed your eyes straying to the tall blonde more times than you care to admit. He just has this aura around him that makes you gravitate towards him, although your anxiety won’t let you do more than watch from afar.
“Hey, I’m gonna run to the ladies room, are you good here for a bit?” Nat asks you, scooting out of the booth and standing, waiting near the head of the table. You smile, nodding as you wave her away, scooting out of the booth as well.
“Yeah, I’m gonna g
go get another drink, I think,” you say and Nat nods, before heading towards the back of the bar.
You watch her go for a second, then glance around to spot your brother in the middle of a game of pool with one of his friends, Coyote, you remember.
You steal yourself and then make your way through the crowded space, ducking between people until you stand at an open space at the bar.
You watch as the pretty bartender, smiles at the brown haired man she was talking to, who you remember is called Maverick, before making her way over to you.
“Hey, can I grab you a refill?” The woman asks, nodding to the empty glass in your hand.
“Um y
yes pl
.please,” you say, stuttering through your words.
The woman’s smile puts you a little bit more at ease, as she asks what you’re drinking.
“Just sp
sparkling w
.water.”
The woman nods at you and takes the cup from you. As she uses the soda spout to refill your glass, she introduces herself as Penny, the owner of the Hard Deck.
“We don’t usually get a lot of new customers this time of year,” she says, pushing the newly full glass back towards you, “are you new to town, or just passing through?”
Something about the way she seems so at ease puts you immediately at ease, and you only trip over your words once as you answer, voice getting a little stronger with each word.
“I live about t
ten minutes away, and my brother is in the Navy, he was just recently assigned here. I don’t usually go out by myself, but he asked me to meet some of his friends here tonight.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, who’s your brother?” Penny inquires.
“Um Robert Floyd? You’d probably know him as Bob.”
You wave a hand in the direction of your brother. Penny nods, turning back to you with a smile.
“Well you are always welcome at the Hard Deck! I didn’t catch your name, dear.”
You give your name, and Penny smiles at you once more, before heading off to help another customer.
You look down at your glass to hide the small smile that plays across your lips at the idea that you just met someone without the buffer of your brother.
You’re so caught up in your own head as you make your way back through the tables, you don’t notice the man until it’s too late.
A body slams into yours from the front, causing your water to splash over your hands and down your front as you stumble backwards. Just as you feel yourself falling, a warm presence appears at your back, steadying you with an arm around your shoulders as another pushes out in front of you. The tan hand shoves the man who had hit you, sending him away from you with such a force that he staggers before righting himself.
You look up at the person who saved you, only slightly surprised to see Jake already staring down at you, concern apparent in his gorgeous green eyes.
“What the fuck man?!” The man who had shoved you says loudly, causing you to jump slightly and subconsciously move in closer to Jake’s side.
“Watch where you’re going!” Jake’s voice holds the slightest hint of anger and you instinctively deflate a bit as you open your mouth to apologize.
“Not you, sweets,” Jake says, unknowingly making your heart flutter wildly in your chest at the name, “you did nothing wrong.”
Jake’s hand smooths over your shoulder, as he glares at the other man. The guy scoffs and looks around, as if making sure he doesn’t have an audience, before swinging his glare back to you and Jake.
“Um, I didn’t do anything wrong here! She was the one not looking where she was going!” He accuses, gesturing at you and making you shrink even further into Jake’s side, shame rising when you feel your eyes start to burn with tears.
“You’re gonna want to watch how you speak to her, jackass.”
Jake’s voice is so hard that the guy visibly blanches, and not so subtly takes a step back and away from the angry pilot at your side.
“Apologize to her for spilling her drink, and then fuck right off.” Jake commands, and the guy mutters the quietist apology you’ve ever heard and then disappears into the crowd.
Jake’s hand strokes over your shoulder one more time and then it’s gone. You turn to look up at the man who had come to your rescue, and Jake gently smiles down at you.
“You alright, y/n?” He asks, gaze sweeping quickly over the front of your dress, clearly soaked through from your spilled water, before flicking back up to your face.
“I
.I’m o
okay,” you stutter, shame rising at the idea of this handsome man seeing you so humiliated, “th
thank y
you for rescuing m
me.”
“It’s no trouble, sweets,” Jake says easily, swinging his big green jacket off of his shoulders and draping it over your form.
“What do you need?” He asks, once you’ve settled into the material, hiding your soaked dress, noticing your eyes darting around quickly.
Jake’s niece is a shy little thing who has many of the same tendencies that Jake has recognized in you throughout the evening as he watched you sitting with Phoenix. He saw the way your natural tendency is to roll your shoulders forward slightly and curl in on yourself, your hair falling forward to hide that beautiful face from the world.
You stand staring at him in shock for a few seconds, before mentally shaking yourself.
“I’m o
okay, just maybe to sit back down,” you say, and Jake nods, guiding you back over to the booth.
“Wait right here, I’m gonna go grab you another soda water, and then we’ll just sit here until everyone’s ready to go, okay?” Jake asks as you sit down. You nod at him, playing with your fingers as you wait. Once you hear him walk away, you glance up and survey the bar, spotting Nat and your brother engaged in a pool game with Coyote and Rooster watching on.
You shuffle yourself a little deeper into Jake’s jacket, and close your eyes for a few moments, breathing deeply to let the shocking encounter roll off your shoulders.
“You doing okay, y/n/n?” Robert asks as he slides into the booth next to you. You smile up at him, letting your head fall on his shoulder as his arm comes up to rest over your shoulders.
“Yeah, I’m good.” You feel your lips pull up into a smile as you watch Jake lean against the bar and chat with Penny and Maverick, while Penny pours another sparkling water.
“Good.” Your brother is smiling at you when you turn your head to look at him. You grin back, and then let your head drop back onto his shoulder, waiting for Jake to come back with your drink and letting yourself relax into the evening. You might have been anxious going into this evening, but you feel perfectly at ease right now, with your brothers arm around your shoulders and your new (and ridiculously handsome) friend sinking down into the other side of the booth and sliding a fresh glass across the table to you, eyes bright as he settles into a comfortable conversation with your brother.
✯✯✯✯
the time where someone makes the mistake of cutting in front of jake’s girlfriend in line

The sun is glistening brightly over the ocean as you sit back against your boyfriend’s chest, a soft beach towel beneath you and a book in hand.
The waves lapping against the sand, and the familiar feel of Jake’s fingers combing through your hair lull you comfortably towards sleep, and you close your book, setting it beside you on the towel as you lay your head back against Jake’s shoulder. You eyes are closed as you feel your boyfriend’s arm come up to drape across your chest, caging you into his embrace.
“What are you doing, sweets?” Jake’s voice brings you back from the edge of sleep, his lips brushing across your forehead as his arm across your chest squeezes gently, his fingers drawing small nonsensical patterns on you collar bone.
“Just taking in the moment,” you sigh, shifting to meet his eyes, head still resting on his shoulder. His green eyes gleam with mischief as he meets your gaze.
“But I want to know who she picks,” he says, gesturing to the novel you had put down.
Embarrassment flushes through you as you think about the romance book you had been reading, with its drama filled love triangle.
“Y
you were r
reading it?” You ask, tripping over a few of your words, face burning as you turned your head back to the ocean, away from Jake.
“Hey,” Jake drops his face to your neck, nuzzling you and pressing kisses to the sensitive skin there, “don’t be embarrassed. It was quite an interesting story.”
“Y
you really think so?”
“Of course, y/n/n! I like everything you read.”
“O
okay,” you smile, getting distracted by the attention your boyfriend is lavishing on your neck. You squirm in his grasp as he blows into your neck, causing the two of you to start laughing, as you shake him off and then immediately curl back into his chest, yawning as you snuggle into him.
“What do you wanna do for the afternoon then, Sweets?” Jake asks, fingers going back to trace across your collarbone.
“I don’t know, but I know I’m going to need a coffee for it if it involves being awake,” you say, the heat of the day and the general sense of comfort you feel around your boyfriend contributing to your sleepiness.
“Alright then, baby, let’s get you caffeinated!” Jake says, putting your book into the tote bag lying next to him, before helping you up and shaking out your towel, “Call me selfish, but I’m definitely gonna be wanting your sweet company for a lot longer today.”
You giggle as you hold the bag open for him to deposit the now folded towel in, grinning as Jake uses the opportunity to brush a kiss over your nose. He grins back at you, taking the tote from your hands and slinging it over his shoulder, crooking his elbow so that you can hold his arm.
You snuggle in as close to his side as possible while walking, letting him lead you toward the beaches parking lot and his truck.
You climb into the passenger side after Jake opens the door for you, settling into the well worn leather seat, as your boyfriend starts the engine, pulling out of the beachside parking lot, through a neighborhood, and onto the little high street of your seaside town.
A few minutes later, you’re standing in line outside your favorite coffee truck. Jake has run to the restroom in the shop across the street, leaving you to keep your place in the line, which due to the popularity of the truck, wraps quite far down the sidewalk. You are standing quietly, content to just observe the going’s on of the little high street, when you feel more than see a body push in front of you in line, knocking you back and off balance. You stumble, bumping into the woman behind you, who kindly steadies you, smiling as you stutter out an apology, face flushing in embarrassment.
“No worries, my dear, it wasn’t your fault,” she says, shooting a dirty look over your shoulder at the line cutter, before smiling at you once more and going back to reading the magazine she’s holding.
You turn back to face the man now standing in front of you, as if he’d been waiting in line like the rest of you. You start to think about just letting him stay in the line in front of you, before thinking fuck it and clearing your throat loudly.
The stranger turns around, and the look in his eyes makes you wish you had just let him cut the line. But you’ve come this far and you can hear your brother’s voice in your head telling you to stand up for yourself and not let anyone push you around, so you lift your chin, and ball your hands to stop them from shaking.
“Yes?” The stranger grunts, glowering at you as if you were the one in the wrong.
“Y..you just c..cut in the line. It actually starts b..back there,” you say, pointing down the sidewalk to where the last person in line is standing. You’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, wanting to believe that he had just accidentally just into the line.
The guy just stares at you for a long moment, and you grow more and more uncomfortable by the second. You eventually drop your arm, and wait for him to step back out of the line.
“I
i
i
is it r
r
really,” he scoffs, exaggerating the stutter he puts on as he takes a step closer to you, staring down at you with a mena glint in his eye. “What are you going to do about it, huh?”
Your stomach drops as he crowds you, eyes welling with unwanted tears, which you try furiously to not let escape. You take a deep breath, something which he notices and smirks at, eyes portraying that he’s fully confident in his victory.
Just as you open your mouth to say something, you feel a familiar presence at you back, as your boyfriend slings an arm around your chest, pulling you back into his.
“Here’s what you’re gonna do, buddy,” Jake’s voice is all authority, as he stares down the other man, while simultaneously providing you comfort by letting his fingers stroke over your shoulder as his arm across your chest acts as a protective, comforting barrier, “you’re gonna back the fuck off from my girl, you’re gonna apologize, and then you’re gonna march yourself right to the back of the line and wait, just like everyone else is.
The two men seem locked in a stare down for a few tense moments, as your hands come up to grip Jake’s forearm. The line cutter holds strong for a solid five seconds longer before blinking and taking a step back.
“Fine, whatever.” You and Jake watch him as he walks away, not even in the direction of the end of the line.
You feel Jake’s arm tighten briefly across your front, before it fell away, one hand gripping your hand, spinning you around and into his arms. You hands land on his chest, and you stare up at him, struck breathless from the clear adoration in your boyfriends eyes.
“You okay, Sweets?” He asks, on hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Yeah,” you sigh, and he searches your eyes for a few moments, no doubt making ure you were being truthful, before dropping his head to brush his lips against yours.
“Well aren’t you two just the sweetest.”
You pull away from Jake and look towards the voice, seeing the woman who you’d stumbled into. She was smiling, the skin around her eyes crinkling as she does. You smile back, slightly apologetically.
“I’m sorry again for knocking into you,” you say, still feeling guilty despite knowing that it hadn’t really been your fault. The woman waves you off.
“It’s no problem at all, dear,” she says, before glancing between you and Jake. Jake nods at her, silently thanking her for helping you out. She smiles back, eyes glazing over for a second.
“You two have a beautiful day, alright,” she says, before gesturing to the coffee truck’s open window, which you hadn’t even realized had gotten closer, till you were the next people in line.
“You too, Ma’am,” Jake says, hooking an arm around your waist, “now, let’s get you caffeinated, baby.”
✯✯✯✯
the time where someone makes the mistake of hitting on Jake in front of his girl

đŸŽ¶Slow Ride. Take it EasyđŸŽ¶
You laugh, bright and open as you and Jake walk in to THE HARD DECK to the first strains of “Slow Ride” coming from the jukebox in the corner. When you look over towards the music corner, you laugh even harder as you spot your brother and Rooster grinning back at you, and the man next to you.
“Of course, it was them,” Jake laughs, and guides you towards the group of pilots who had quickly become your friends after Bob introduced you that first night at the Hard Deck.
When you reach the table, you sit next to Phoenix and Jake scoots in after you.
“How has everyone been?” You asks, shifting into Jake’s side as his arm takes up its usual spot around your shoulders. Your brother scoots into the booth across from you, and pushes your favorite drink towards you.
“Thanks Robbie,” you smile, raising the drink to your lips and taking a sip.
Much later, you and Natasha are coming back from the bathroom together, where you both had been freshening up after an intense match of darts between Jake and Bradley had left you both crying with laughter, which subsequently caused your mascara to run.
“Omg, look y/n/n,” Nat says, pointing towards the bar, where a fake busty blonde is currently trying to shove her boobs into your boyfriends face.
“Not again,” you complain, which causes Nat to laugh and loop her arm through yours, as you make your way through the throngs of bar patrons to your table. You keep you eyes on the blonde currently chatting up your Jake, although he remains completely un-responsive to her advances.
It’s only when she starts to brush her hand along Jake’s arm, and leans in the closest she’s ever attempted that you and Nat both stand up, and Natasha looks to you for a moment.
“You want me to deal with her?” She asks, rolling her shoulders as if preparing to physically remove the woman from the bar. You love your friend for being so ready to come to your aid, but based on the fact that regardless of Jake’s repeated dismissal of the blonde, this is the third week in a row that she has tried, even you and your non confrontational nature are getting frustrated. Natasha and Bob have dealt with distracting the woman away from Jake every other time she has attempted to put the moves on, but this time, you shake your head at your friend and motion for her to sit down again.
“No, thank you Nat, but I think I’m going to go over there tonight,” you say, the two drinks you had had earlier giving you a courage you normally didn’t possess as you push your hair away from your face and turn to walk over to the blonde to hopefully, finally get this woman to back off from your man, leaving Nat cackling gleefully in your wake.
Meanwhile, Jake drums his fingers in a nonsensical pattern on the bar as he keeps his gaze firmly off of the woman on his right, currently crossing her arms under her breasts, so that her tiny top strains to keep her breasts in.
Penny smiles at him as she slides his beer over to him.
“There you are, soldier.” She says, and Jake laughs at her, shooting her his signature grin as he lifts the pint to his lips ad takes a swig.
“Thanks a million, Penny Pie,” Jake says, jokingly using the nickname that the squad had given Penny when she and Maverick had announced to them that they were getting married.
As Penny walks away, the blonde, Jake thinks her name was Jessica?, moves closer to Jake, brushing his arm with her chest and blinking her heavily lined eyes up at him.
“Oh, the bartenders taken, stud,” she says, in a tone which suggests she thinks that she is saving Jake from a horrible heartbreak. He shifts away from her again and is about to ask her to please leave him alone, when someone beats him to it.
“So is he.”
A grin immediately finds its way onto Jake’s face at the sound of your voice and he turns around, immediately spotting you a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest, eyes glaring at Jessica and an adorable pout on your lips.
“Hi, baby,” he says, opening his free arm for you. You move towards him and wrap your arms around his middle, leaning against him. You kept your glare on Jessica, as the blonde looked between you and Jake, mouth slightly agape.
“Really?” She asks, tone biting and frankly mean, “this is who a stud like you is with?”
Jake frowns, arm tightening around you, as he opens his mouth to defend you. But again, for the second time that night, you beat him to it.
“Yeah, I am,” you say, smiling at the blonde who glares back at you, “and I’m also the person who he’s going to continue to be with, so you might wanna step aside and take your desperate attempts elsewhere.”
You flick your hand at her, still riding the high of your drinks from earlier and then once she leaves, you turn your head you look up at your boyfriend. Jake is gazing down at you, the look in his eyes heated.
“Baby
” he trails off, hand coming up to brush across your cheek, “that was
”
You smile a little sheepishly up at him.
“A little out of character I know,” you say, feeling a little dramatic and self-conscious for what you just did.
“
extremely hot.” Jake finishes his sentence, grinning as he brings you in for a kiss.
“I love you, Jake,” you whisper against his lips.
“I love you too, baby.”
Tumblr media
a/n: thank you so much for reading! My requests are open, so if there is anything you’d like to see me write, please check my rules and feel free to ask! I should be able to get to a lot more because I’m free from college for the summer! I always love to chat and appreciate every reblog, comment and like. Happy Reading!
3K notes · View notes
luxu1230 · 9 months ago
Text
In which everyone learns Hangman is much more like Maverick than they thought trauma responses too.
So one day after the suicide mission and the daggers are now a permanent squadron due to Ice Mav decides to do a plane swap so the single seaters get the opportunity to feel what it's like to have someone behind them.
However Hangman refuses to, even going as far to sit on the floor. The others make fun of him (except Coyote and Mav) but Mav is the first to realise how pale and short of breath Hangman seems to be and is even sure he sees him trembling slightly.
So to get him out he tells Hangman how he needs him to drop off some paperwork to his husband and how he can stay with Ice Incase he needs any help.
It isn't until he ran out the door the others realised something was truly wrong. It's not until later that Coyote tell them why.
(It took Hangman nearly two minutes in Ice office before he broke down and Ice realises that this kid acts like Maverick when he was younger and his heart breaks when he realises that this comes from a trauma shared between them. Though why was this never in his file).
Coyote later explains to them the reason Hangman won't fly with a backseater and it explains the relationship between those two.
It turns out Coyote knew Hangman from before he joined top gun. That it turned out that Coyote's older brother was Hangman's backseater and how a flying exercise turned into the death of one person and the mental trauma of another.
How hangman has sworn off having a backseater and tries to do everything solo.
It leaves everyone in shock and questioning if the rumours about hangman were ever true.
One knew he needed to apologise asap and another knew he was going to keep a tighter eye on hangman.
No one was surprised the next morning when they walked into the base only to see hangman stuck in between Mav and Rooster hugging him with the most confused look on his face.
433 notes · View notes
ereardon · 11 months ago
Text
Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter One
Tumblr media
A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic
Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 
Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, alcohol
Chapter summary: Y/N meets Bob's squadron, and encounters someone she thought she'd never see again; the Daggers celebrate Jake's birthday where he and Y/N have their first conversation after the one night stand
Masterlist here
You were late. Bob was going to kill you. Your brother was a stickler when it came to being on time. It came as no surprise to anyone in your family that he had gone into the military.
You rushed through the door, purse strap getting caught on the handle and you tugged it free, chest rising as you spun around, searching for Bob. He stood in the corner of the coffee shop, pristine in a khaki uniform, eyes wide behind his wire glasses. 
“Hi Ducky,” he said as you tossed yourself into his arms, breathing in his familiar scent. He felt like home, even though it had been years since you and Bob had lived under the same roof. You had been barely a teen when Bob left for the Naval Academy, and his stints on land were far and few between after. His assignment to Top Gun was the first time he had settled somewhere on a more permanent basis. It’s why you decided to move to San Diego after college. All of your friends had scattered around the country – grad school in New York, policy analysts in Washington, even one friend had taken an internship with an art dealer in Miami. But you had packed up and left Tennessee with one goal. Be closer to your brother. 
“Bobby,” you grinned, stepping back to admire him. Every time you saw him it was months apart and so much had changed, but also so little. He was the same Bob who had thrown you over his shoulder to win the family flag football game on Thanksgiving. The same Bob who had carried your book bag for you when you were in elementary school and he was a middle schooler and went a mile out of his way every morning to make sure you got to your homeroom class safe and sound. The Bob who always picked up, day or night, when you called. The Bob who listened to you weep about your college boyfriend who broke your heart. The Bob who took care of you when you were seven and had the flu and your mom was working a double shift at the hospital and couldn’t stay home with you. 
“Ducky,” he said, dropping your hands. The familiar nickname on his tongue brought forward a flood of memories: spring weekends flying kites in the nearby park, sitting on the back of a tandem bike with Bob on a trip to Florida to visit your grandparents, the fort the two of you made the one time it snowed two feet in Tennessee in under a day in March. “This is my squad. Guys, meet my sister, Y/N.” 
You tore your gaze from Bob, looking over at the table he was gesturing to, a smile plastered on your face. A beautiful brunette with pearly white teeth and a tight bun was on the far left. That was Phoenix. You had received a handful of letters from Bob talking about her. Next to Phoenix was a handsome, bulky man with a mustache in a plain blue t-shirt. Wow, he was gorgeous. 
Your eyes shifted over one more, breath halting in your throat as your gaze slowly crept up. First you spotted the dog tags. Eerily familiar, but then again, a lot of military guys wore dog tags, right? 
Then the chin. Ridiculously cut jaw, slight bifurcated butt chin that you had found weirdly adorable two nights before. Plump, pink lips, puckered up in a grin. You felt your heart sink. There was only one thing left. You raised your eyes to his. Clear, seafoam green. An ocean in two small orbs. He smiled as you screamed internally. 
Bob’s voice drew you out of your coma. “That’s Bradley.” The mustache man waved a hand. “And Jake Seresin. Hangman.” 
Jake. Your stomach did a somersault. 
Last time you had seen him, you had been teetering on the edge of drunk, standing outside of the bar with one hand on the railing, the salty ocean wind licking at the sweat on your collarbone, flicking the ends of your hair up against your chin.
The next moment, his tongue was on your throat, in your mouth, fingers in your hair, pressing your body against the railing of the deck as you whimpered into his lips. 
You had crept out of bed before he woke up. Just a gorgeous, tan, muscular back sticking out beneath crisp white sheets as you tugged on your short dress and called an Uber. You had expected to never see him again. 
And here he was, smirking at you as your brother’s gaze narrowed. 
You had fucked up. Correction. You had fucked Jake Seresin. And that was a major fuck up. 
***
Bob had never been the type to have a huge friend group, or any close friends really. So the first time he called from Top Gun, giddy with excitement, you had been elated for him. Your brother deserved a tightly knit friend group.
Before you had moved to San Diego, Bob had filled you in on the group’s antics. Their flights, their wild nights out, the dynamics. But he had centered mostly on Phoenix and Rooster. 
Jake had conveniently been left out of the majority of the conversation. 
“Well?” Bob asked as the two of you headed back to his house in your rental car. “What do you think of the group?” 
“They’re nice,” you said. 
“That’s it? Nice?” 
You sighed. “I’m really happy for you, Bobby. You have a good group of friends. I know that’s what you always wanted.” 
Bob leaned back against the seat. You were the one person that Bob confided in. He was an open book and you could read him with one glance. Looking over, you spotted his furrowed brow, the tense way he was squeezing his knuckles together. 
“Are you OK?” you asked, turning your eyes back toward the road, slowing down to take a right turn. 
“Tell me you didn’t move here for me.” 
“Then I’d be lying.” 
“Y/N,” Bob said. His voice had taken on Big Brotherℱ mode. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Don’t you want me around?” you whispered. 
“Of course I do,” Bob replied. “I just don’t want you to waste your life following me.” 
“Living in California a waste?” you asked. “No way.” 
“What’s the plan, Duck?” 
“Not everyone was born potty trained and with a plan, Bobby.” 
“You’re twenty-three,” he countered. “It’s time to be an adult and figure out what you’re doing with your life.” 
“You sound like mom.” 
“And we both know she’s never wrong.” 
You sighed. “Just because you got your life together at seven doesn’t mean I have to.” 
“Duck—” 
You cut him off. “Bobby, please. It’s been a week. Give me a little time and I promise, I'll figure out what I’m doing. Just be my brother, OK, instead of acting like my dad.” 
That silenced him. Bob had taken your father’s disappearance harder than you had. He put on a brave face. He stepped up. He became the man of the house. But that meant that he had taken it upon himself to be your brother and your dad. So even at twenty three he still saw you as a child. 
The two of you drove the rest of the way back to Bob’s house in silence. Inside, you were just about to close the door to your guest bedroom when Bob’s voice floated down the hall. 
“By the way,” he said, “I told the squad we’d go out for drinks with them tonight. It’s Jake’s birthday.” 
You grimaced. “Sounds good.” 
“Leave at nine?” 
“Sure.” You closed the door, plopping down on the bed face first. You had moved to San Diego to figure your life out. And of course the first thing you had done was have a one night stand with one of Bob’s teammates. If he had been anyone else in the world you would have been able to avoid him. 
What do you get someone for their birthday when you hoped you’d never see them again? 
***
“Floyd!” 
You turned at the same time as Bob. Bradley grinned. “Oh this is going to get confusing.” 
“Here.” Natasha pointed to the bar stool next to her. “Have a seat. Boys will get you a drink. Bradshaw?” 
Bradley tipped his head. “On it, ma’am.” 
She rolled her eyes as you settled into the seat, crossing your legs beneath the short skirt. “So, Y/N. Bob’s told me all about his little sister. But he left out that you were coming to live here.” 
“I’m not much of a planner.” 
Phoenix laughed. “The anti-Bob. I like you already.” 
“He’s told me a lot about you,” you replied. “And Bradley.” 
“And nothing about Jake I’m guessing?” You nodded and Phoenix took a sip of her beer. “Trust me when I say, you don’t want to even go there.” 
“Are you speaking from experience?” 
Phoenix craned her neck around, making sure the two of you were out of earshot before nodding. “Just steer clear of him. That’s my suggestion. Hangman is fun for a night. But things get messy quick. And he and Bob have a little bit of a history.” 
You frowned. “What kind of history?” 
Just as Phoenix opened her mouth to respond, Bradley pressed a beer into your open hand. “Ducky.” 
You grimaced. “Bobby, you didn’t!” 
He shrugged. “Sorry.” 
You rolled your eyes. “I’m so going to eat your last Pop-Tart tomorrow just to get you back for that.” 
“Fill us in, will you?” Phoenix asked. 
“When she was four, Y/N became obsessed with those little yellow rubber ducks that you put in your bath.” You groaned as your brother recounted the full story. How you had thrown a fit when your mother had tried to take you out of the bath and the only thing to calm you had been to fill your bed with the rubber ducks. And how the next morning that continued, one rubber duck gripped firmly in your chubby hand as you ate breakfast, went to the park, tagged along to the grocery store, went to daycare. This continued for weeks. 
You didn’t want to admit to the team that you still had a rubber duck stuffed inside your suitcase back at Bob’s house. It was a safety net of sorts. 
“Sorry, Duck,” Bob said, squeezing your shoulders and placing a small peck on the top of your head. 
You looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, he had a massive grin on his face. He was happy. All you had wanted in as long as you could remember was for Bob to be happy. He took your happiness more seriously than his own. It was time you returned the favor. 
“Am I interrupting?” All eyes turned to Jake. He had on a tight black t-shirt and a pair of jeans with cowboy boots peeking out the bottom. He shot a grin your way and you did your best to avoid his eye contact. 
“Happy birthday, Hangman.” There was a chill in Bob’s voice, or perhaps you were reading into it because of what Phoenix had said earlier. 
Jake nodded. “Thanks, man. Anyone up for a game of darts?” 
Bob dropped his hand from your shoulder, following Phoenix and Jake back toward the darts board on one end of the bar. You sat back in your seat, tipping the beer down your throat, watching as they played. There was an easy banter with all of them. 
You finished your beer, the darts game still ongoing. Quietly, you slipped around the edge of the room, out the door that led to the back deck. 
It was quiet outside, just the sound of the waves crashing against the hard sand and the soft hum of the music as it seeped through under the door and from behind the old windows. You laid your fingertips on the wooden railing, tipping your head back toward the moon that was slung low in the sky, feeling the cool breeze dry the sweat that had started to form on the base of your neck. 
“Mind if I join?” 
You turned. Jake stepped out onto the deck, a beer in one hand. He approached the railing, putting the green bottle down and smirking over at you. This time you were far less drunk. You shrugged. “It’s your birthday. Who am I to say what you can or can’t do?” 
He frowned. “Don’t be like that.” 
“Just because you’ve seen me naked doesn’t mean you know me.” 
He looked bristled. “Y/N. I had no idea you were Bob’s sister when we met the other night. If I had known, I—”
“Wouldn’t have fucked me?” 
He grimaced. “You’re the one that left without saying anything.” 
You folded your arms over your chest. “It’s not like you were falling over yourself to drive me home. It was better that way and we both know it.” You allowed yourself to look up. God, he was stunning. Green, wide eyes. Tanned skin, the way his forearm flexed as he gripped the railing. You could remember the way his touch felt as he dragged his fingertips over your skin. You tried to shake the memory from your mind. “Just do me one favor.” 
“Sure.” 
“Don’t tell Bob,” you whispered. “Let’s just forget the other night ever happened.” 
Jake’s gaze lingered. “If that’s what you want.” 
You pushed up off of the railing. “It’ll be better, trust me.” You headed for the door, turning around at the last moment. Jake was still leaning against the railing, watching the waves in the dark. “Jake?” 
He turned, green eyes wide. There was something almost sad about him, you thought. It was a fleeting glimpse, but you saw it. 
“Happy birthday.” 
He smiled. You turned, peering through the glass on the wood door. Bob had his head thrown back in a laugh as Bradley pounded against the piano keys and Phoenix danced. You smiled. Your brother was happy. 
You weren’t going to ruin his perfectly crafted life by saying you had slept with one of his friends. It would be easier for everyone if you and Jake Seresin pretended you had never met before. 
How would they ever catch you in your lie? 
Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:
@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me  @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa  @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away
613 notes · View notes
justabigassnerd · 1 year ago
Text
Protected
Tumblr media
Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader
Word count - 1,654
Warnings - creepy guys, protective Jake & Mickey, being made uncomfortable, angst, fluff
Summary - when you get bothered by customers at work, Jake and Mickey can't just stand by and watch
A/N - hey y'all! sorry it's taken me so long to get a new fic out, I swear I'm trying to write faster but I be struggling. this was a request sent in by @stupendousnightmaretrash so here's a formal apology for taking so long. anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!
Tumblr media
Growing up it had always just been you and your dad, and you were perfectly fine with that arrangement. There would be a small number of people that would come in and out of your life, but your dad stuck around no matter what and he was all you needed.
Then he got called back to Top Gun.
After completing the mission he was called back for, Jake and his squad were offered a permanent position at Top Gun so they could all remain together which brought a new array of people into your life. You knew Javy of course; he and your dad had formed a close friendship early on so having him back in your life was a welcome surprise. Then there was the likes of Bradley, Bob, Ruben, and Natasha who became your honorary uncles and aunt. Then there was Mickey who somehow became like a second father to you. He was the youngest of the Daggers and so everyone had assumed he’d take more of an older brother role towards you, but he showed his complex maturity when he helped you solve a problem you were having, and you often found yourself going to him with problems you weren’t ready to talk to your own dad about yet to get advice from him.
A couple of years down the line, your dad and the Daggers were still based in Miramar and life was just as good as it was when the team first became an official squadron. You had recently turned sixteen and gotten a job working at a little restaurant along the beachfront for a little extra cash. It wasn’t the best job in the world, but it was something.
One evening, after a long day of work at Top Gun, the Daggers decided that they’d visit the restaurant you worked at to grab some dinner and to also surprise you while you were working.
The squadron turned up and waited excitedly to be seated and Jake couldn’t help but smile when he saw your eyes light up upon seeing the team gathered. You found them a table and handed out menus to everyone. The smile never leaves your face as you talk to them, getting their drinks orders before heading off to go and get their drinks. When you returned with their drinks you took their food orders and took them to the kitchen before returning to your section and seating two middle-aged men at a table near the Daggers. At first, they were polite, thanking you as they initially sat down and gave you their drinks orders with kind smiles but as the evening progressed their behaviour shifted. When you brought them their meals after the Daggers were just about halfway through their own dinners, the two men started looking you up and down, making uncomfortable flirty comments and one of the men even tried to run his hand along yours as you placed his food down in front of him. None of the men’s comments or actions went unnoticed by Mickey, who nudged Jake and pointed out how uncomfortable you clearly looked while serving the two men. When you moved away from the table to grab more drinks for the two men, Mickey and Jake exchanged a look and pushed their chairs away from the table, rising in sync and crossing to the two men.
“Can we help you?” One of the men asks, raising an eyebrow as they stare up at the two aviators who fold their arms across their chest in tandem, glaring down at the two men.
“You can stop bothering my daughter, that’s how you can help me.” Jake says, jaw set as his gaze grows colder by the second. The two men share a brief glance before letting out small chuckles.
“With all due respect. Your daughter is very beautiful.” One of the men has the gall to say, making Jake almost shift to land a punch on that man’s cocky smile, but Mickey was quicker, grabbing Jake’s shoulder and pulling him back a couple of paces to reduce the fight risk.
“She’s also sixteen years old. She’s just a kid!” Mickey has to hold himself back from screaming it in the man’s face as his friend shrugs.
“Well, she looks older.”
“And you still think that makes it okay?” Mickey says as Jake shrugs Mickey’s hand off his shoulder and approaches the two men, bracing his hands on the table, and leaning down so he’s in their faces.
“You two have about five minutes to pay your bill, give my kid a good tip and get your sorry asses out of here.” Jake’s voice was low and threatening, but the two men chuckled once again.
“What exactly are you going to do if we don’t do that?” The man asks, smirking cockily as he leant back in his seat, arms folding over his chest.
“I’ve got an entire team of naval aviators behind me, and they will not hesitate to get involved on my kid’s behalf.” Jake is seconds away from throwing a punch when the men laugh in his face.
“I have your- what’s going on?” Your return should’ve been expected yet in the moment all four men had forgotten you had gone off to get drinks.
“Nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart.” Jake says, straightening up and flashing a smile in your direction as Mickey drops his defensive stance to make everything seem more natural.
“Exactly, sweetheart. Are those our drinks?” One of the men says, condescension in his tone as he looks you up and down, frowning when you begin to look uncomfortable at his words.
“Oh come on, you can’t serve us with a smile?” He then says, and Mickey immediately walks over to you and takes the drinks off the tray.
“Mickey, what are you doing?” You ask in a hushed whisper as Mickey winks quickly, refusing to answer before turning around and slapping the biggest grin on his face and approaching the table.
“Here’s your drinks.” Mickey says, placing both drinks down making sure he spilt a bit over each man as he put them down.
“What are you doing?” One man says, standing up and attempting to brush the drink off his trousers.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to be served with a smile. I must’ve gotten a bit carried away.” Mickey says, the grin never leaving his face as both men grab napkins to wipe at their clothes while Jake crosses to you.
“Why don’t you grab the bill for these two? I have a feeling they’ll be leaving soon.” Jake whispers, watching as you nod lightly and head back to get the bill for the two men. Jake and Mickey return to the table with the Daggers, telling them that the situation appears to be defused and that since they had finished up all their meals, they’d get the bill and pay after the two men left. Jake kept glancing over at the two men as you brought over their bill and thankfully their mouths remained shut and they paid for their food and drinks silently before finishing their drinks and leaving the restaurant. When they left, you went over to the Daggers table and got them their bill and took the payments. You said goodbye to each Dagger in turn as they left but Jake and Mickey stopped in front of you.
“We’re going to wait outside for you, I know you don’t have much longer of your shift, and we want to make sure those assholes don’t come back.” Jake says, both he and Mickey smiling softly at you as you nod, thanking them before rushing off to finish off the rest of your shift.
Mickey and Jake sit outside the restaurant on a bench just by the beachfront and watch people taking evening strolls along the beach and listen to the sounds of seagulls calling and waves crashing against the sand. The two men found themselves talking about how work was going for them to pass the time until they heard you calling out for them, and they both turned and looked over their shoulders, a smile coming to their faces as they got to their feet and crossed to meet you halfway. Jake reached you first and trapped you in a strong but gentle hug.
“Was the rest of your shift, okay?” Was the first thing he asked as he hugged you, feeling you nod against his chest.
“Yeah.” You say as you pull away from the hug, moving to hug Mickey who embraces you happily.
“No one else bothered you?” Mickey checks in as he releases you from the hug.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Thank you, by the way. Those guys really gave me the creeps.” You admit, briefly casting your gaze to the floor before looking back up at the two men.
“No need to thank us, sweetheart. We’ll always look out for you.” Jake says with a soft smile.
“Honestly, if you two weren’t in the Navy I would’ve asked my manager to hire you guys. We could do with some people to help us handle the creepy guys. And I think Mickey would be an excellent waiter, he’s got the customer service smile down.” You say with a slight laugh, making both your dad and Mickey let out laughs of their own as they imagine Mickey being a waiter.
“Come on you, let’s get home.” Jake then says, the laughter dying down as Mickey slings an arm over your shoulders and tugs you into his side as the three of you begin to walk away from the restaurant, chatting and laughing the whole way as you enjoy each other’s company. The events of the evening are now behind you as you cherish getting to spend time with two of your favourite people. And you wouldn’t trade them for the world.
439 notes · View notes