Pages Filled With Ink

Multi-fandom fanfiction archive for eddiemunsonsbattoo. You can find my stories on AO3 at Ink_and_Smoke. I use this sideblog for reblogging favourite stories and posting links from my ao3 to share here. And posting my own Top Gun fics.

[ink-and-smoke]

Let ’Er Rip | Top Gun: Maverick | Jake “Hangman” Seresin Series Masterlist

Let ’Er Rip Fanfiction Playlist

The Boys Are Back

One Down

Hustle

Gates of Hell

Hang Around

Come Over

Sweet

Give In

Losing Game

Break You Down

Shadows of Us

Get Back Up

Siren’s Call

Right Here

Let ’Er Rip

[ink-and-smoke]

I am writing a TG:M fic. WIP but under the cut.

He wakes with a pounding headache and stiff shoulders. The world returns to Hangman in a collage of muted greys; black and white fragments of time fade in and out of focus, memories he cannot seem to recall. Sitting up, his left palm rests gently over his ribs. The only sound to leave him is a sharp hiss.

“Good, you’re awake. Another hour and I would have called for Emergency Services.” Penny moves directly into his line of sight, hands on her hips, a displeased scowl drawing the soft edges of her face into a sharp mask. She looks less like the Penny he knows and more like a mother scolding her good-for-nothing teenage son for whatever degeneracy he’s gotten himself into.

Hangman palms his forehead over his left eye, the socket is sore and bruised, and he wonders how bad it looks. His vanity should be the least of his worries but he’s a consistent fool at best.

“How long have I been here?”

“Three days.”

“Three da—”

“Take it easy, Killer. Don’t need you undoing all of that fine work we did.”

Hangman’s mind is reeling. That voice, he knows that voice yet he can’t picture the face it belongs to. Belatedly, he thinks maybe that’s a good thing. There’s a small part of him that doesn’t want to know how he ended up here. Too bad he’s never listened to it.

“Penny, how exactly did I—”

“You should have listened to your friends… Bagman.”

Pushing himself to stand, he levels his gaze on the woman. “It’s Hang—”

“I know who you are,” she says. Her biting response takes him back, he isn’t used to women being unaffected by him. She gathers her jacket and a large grey duffle bag, and hugs Penny close, leaving her with a kiss on the cheek. “I have to go or I’m gonna be late. If you see Mav, tell him to call me. And let Brad know I’ll meet him later tonight.”

“Be safe,” Penny says. “The barbecue starts at 5, don’t be late.”

“You sound like Dad.”

“Your father’s a good man.”

“I know. See you tonight, Pen.”

Hangman blinks, the gears turning in his mind trying to figure out where this girl fits into the narrative. The use of ‘Mav’ tells him she’s close to his old flight instructor but not close enough to be his daughter, so at least he won’t have to worry about Maverick kicking his ass. And ‘Brad’ indicates a familial bond with Rooster that he fails to see as anything more than friendship. Though, it begs the question, why were Coyote and Phoenix warning him away from her?

Penny interrupts his thoughts, handing him a glass of sweet iced tea and an ice pack. “Here, for your ribs.”

“Thank you. So, who was she?”

“That,” Penny says, tidying up the living room, “was the Admiral’s daughter.”

“Which Admiral?” he asks, perking up a bit. Hangman loves a challenge, maybe too much.

“I know what you’re thinking, Jake.” Penny is the only one who ever calls him by his given name. She frowns. “Don’t go there. That girl’s been through enough, she doesn’t need you complicating her life.”

“I have no idea what you mean, Penny dear,” he says, smiling.

[writercole]

The Best Benefits Master List

Summary: Jake has had the same best friend since he was paired with her for a physics project in freshman year. If they were going to fall in love, it would have happened by now, right?

Warnings: 18+. Sexual content, angst, dangerous Naval missions, Top Gun: Maverick spoilers.

Credits: I have to thank @princessmisery666 for everything she’s done to help me with this, from being my sounding board to my enabler, from helping me with a title to being a final beta. Stacey, you’ve been here since the idea first sprouted and I could not have done it without you. I love you so much, Opie.

A/N: This was an entire labor of love but I adore every single word of it. I truly have no real words for this other than I hope you love it as much as I do.

Series begins 9/13/22

Wore Me Down The Offer Cross the Line The Agreement The First Time T-Minus Three Weeks Tensions Endings Home The Shift Leaving Settling The Confession

[writercole]

The series is complete.

[ink-and-smoke]

Yay!! Gonna finish it now.

I got caught up writing and then had a family emergency. And now I get to finish it for real. I’m excited!!

Hope you’re ready for all my thoughts.

[ink-and-smoke]

Do you ever just use your favourite characters from print or film or television to cope with events in your life?

[ink-and-smoke]

Let ’Er Rip

Two: One Down

Summary: Jake and Rooster kick off their bet; and Jake lands his first number of the night. For everyone’s amusement, the stakes are raised a little higher.

A/N: I love this chapter! When I first wrote it so much was happening that I figured Noah deserved her own introduction. She will debut in the next one. I do not give permission for my works to be reposted, translated, or copied elsewhere. Enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Noah “Siren” Copeland (OFC)

Warnings: Hangman is a warning, drinking (does that need to be a warning? They are in a bar)

Word Count: 2650

The game Jake and Rooster were playing was dangerous; Jake was notorious for the trail of hearts he often left behind in the wake of his failure to commit. When anyone asked him why he turned down long-term relationships, he said he enjoyed the bachelor life and that if he ever met a woman worth settling down for, he would know. To date, Jake's revolving door of women remained operational.

His first number of the evening came when he approached Penny Benjamin at the bar to settle the tab for the start of the night and explain the rules of the game.

As owner and bartender, Penny loved a good show whenever her boyfriend's former trainees were in town. Since opening The Hard Deck and rekindling her relationship with Maverick after the uranium mission, looking out for the excitable members of the Dagger Squadron was second nature to her. Members who became extended family to her and her daughter Amelia over the years, and as such Jake and the rest of his squadmates adored Penny as they did their own families.

There was a certain level of deference that Penny demanded of TOPGUN's elite, not only as well-known pilots of the Navy but as honourable men and women. So, when she reminded Jake of her own set of rules and ensured that the two lieutenants were respectful in their endeavours, he gave his word. Penny settled the first round of drink tabs, and opened one for Jake and Rooster's bet, sending him away with a fresh beer and her blessing (she didn't tell the young pilot of her and Maverick's side bet).

Jake turned his back to the counter with a polite Yes, ma'am and a smile that would melt his mama's heart, raising his beer in silent cheers and nodding to Rooster who remained occupied at the pool table. And their little quest for the evening was off without a hitch.

“Buy a lady a drink?”

Silky smooth, the voice appeared on Jake's right and drew his eyes to the wide baby blues sweeping over his tall muscular frame. The visitor's actions gave Jake pause to do the same.

She was tall in a stalky sort of way, with long, tanned limbs that told Jake she spent much of her time on the beach, selfishly warming her California gold skin in the sun. Her pale blue eyes offered a striking contrast to that sun-kissed shine, hidden beneath what the pilot knew was a jet-black sleeveless body suit that disappeared into the top of light wash high-waisted denim shorts. He let his eyes wander quickly over the open space between the low notch at her cleavage, she came dressed to impress.

“What's your poison?” he asked, slipping effortlessly into his bar-grown persona. The one he used when he wanted to pick up a girl and take her home for the night, not necessarily with the chance of seeing her again.

“I'll have what you're having,” she said. Jake flagged Penny down with a quick hand up and mouthed one more and a nod of thanks. “What brings a guy like you to a bar like this?”

“Just visiting,” he said. He made it a point to keep his sex life and Navy life separate. He had a hard rule of never bedding the same woman twice; he saw no point in telling a random girl he was only gonna fuck once what he did for a living. If she happened to find out on her own, he couldn't fault her for that, but he didn't go around flashing his dog tags and medals for her.

“Thanks for the drink. . .”

“Jake.”

“Thanks for the drink, Jake.” She pushed one hand through the curtain of crisp beach waves―dark brown accented by golden highlights―on the crown of her head, and wrapped the other around the beer bottle in front of her. Then she leaned as far into Jake's space as the surface of her stool and the counter would allow. “Kiley.”

Jake knew from the moment she sat down that Kiley was exactly the kind of woman Rooster described to him on their way into The Hard Deck earlier that night, the kind just desperate enough to give him her number. With any luck, Kiley would be his first step to winning their little bet, and he couldn't say he felt particularly bad using her that way. If he had to guess, she probably wasn't the kind of woman who felt particularly bad being used that way either.

He chuckled and raised his beer to his lips. “Pleasure, ma'am.”

Kiley's tittering almost made it too easy. “Ma'am?”

“Just bein' polite.”

“I didn't take you for a polite kinda guy, Jake.”

“What can I say, my mama raised a southern gentleman. Good manners are hard to forget.”

“A southern gentleman?” Kiley swooned.

Jake nodded, smiling. “Yes, ma'am. Elgin, Texas born and raised. Moved to Austin with my dad when I was 16, but that was short-lived. Didn't quite measure up to that small-town feel.”

As she leaned further into his space, Jake knew he had her. Some women found Rooster's floral shirts and crude attempts to appear suave charming, but there were the few who fell for Jake's sweet southern boy routine every time. The ones who got off on the challenge of corrupting such a well-intentioned boy, and he could tell Kiley was no different.

He met Penny's eyes behind the bar and left a ten-dollar bill on the counter, then turned to his present company. “Pardon me, miss. I'm not usually one to buy a pretty girl a drink and leave her hangin' but I met some friends of mine here tonight, and I don't want them thinkin' I skipped out on 'em.”

Kiley hummed low and sweet in the back of her throat. Jake watched her pull a pen and piece of paper from the small black purse at her side. “You really are a gentleman, aren't you? Well, you're not leaving me hanging, I came with my girlfriends.”

“Local or just visiting?” he asked, making enough polite small talk to keep her interested.

“All of us are local enough. But I'll tell you what, if you happen to get bored with your friends, here's my number. Call me. Maybe you can show me more of those good southern manners,” she said smiling. Before she handed him the paper she slowly brought it up to her lips leaving behind a glossy kiss. “See you 'round, Jake. Thanks for the drink.”

One down, two more to go.

“Jake Seresin, you should be ashamed of yourself.” Penny gathered the empty bottles and discarded them in the bin behind the counter. She stood with her hands on her hips, a look somewhere between impressed and mildly disgusted threatened to break out across her features and she put that energy into wiping down the bar instead.

The blond laughed, green eyes twinkling behind the warmth of alcohol and the high of his first success. He pressed a hand to his chest. “And yet, I sleep like a baby at night.”

“I'm watching you, Hangman,” she warned.

“Yes, ma'am.” He retrieved his refreshed beer and stalked away from the bar leaving Penny shaking her head at his back.

Kiley had been too easy. His mother would lose her mind if she knew the shit he was getting up to and using her sweet teachings to do so. He had to laugh. 

“Are you and Rooster really doing this?” Coyote asked once Jake rejoined their table.

Jake hummed, sitting forward and watching Rooster gather a crowd of locals around the piano. He was always in a different element sitting at the piano, more laid-back. Free in a way that contrasted how he was in the air. Without the shadow of death trailing behind him, recklessly pumping adrenaline into his veins, Rooster let himself relax there in The Hard Deck. He let himself just be.

Jake played with the label on his beer bottle and searched the bar for his scattered squadmates. “We're not just doing it,” he said with a proud smile. “I'm winning.”

Coyote shook his head, certain Jake's high-level confidence in the matter was misplaced but the man only chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

On the table between them, Jake placed a neatly folded piece of paper that he pulled from the front pocket of his jeans. He raised an amused eyebrow, a cocky lopsided grin pulled at the corner of his mouth and dimpled his right cheek. He tapped on the tabletop next to the paper.

One number with bright pink lipgloss next to it adorned the now unfolded page, and Jake's smile grew at Coyote’s obvious astonishment.

“I'm not even gonna ask when or how, I'm just gonna present this fresh beer and wait for the thrilling conclusion.” Coyote knew Jake had an ace up his sleeve, something to ensure his one-nothing lead on Rooster ended with his wingman shamefully forking over payment for however many drinks Jake would order. It's who he was, it's who he'd been since the two of them had met at the Academy.

“What can I say, Coyote, ladies love the southern charm.”

“You're full of shit, Hangman.”

“Maybe but it works.”

“And I hate to break it to you, but that's only one number, man. You're not winning, you're barely in the lead. All Rooster needs is one, and it's over.”

“See that's the beauty of it, Coyote. Rooster doesn't have pull―”

Phoenix's laugh brought the end of his cocky reply to a screeching halt. She dropped her left hand to his right shoulder and leaned down to speak tauntingly in his ear, “And you do?”

Jake took pride in his ability to bullshit his way out of anything, but the one thing he couldn't do was lie through his teeth when confronted by Phoenix. He talked a big game, she knew it, the whole squad knew it. Jake liked to think the show he put on worked a hundred percent of the time when in reality, he just got lucky.

He held Kiley's number in his hands and rubbed the corner of it between his thumb and forefinger. He couldn't get the way she smelled out of his head; saltwater and sunshine mixed with a little too much alcohol. Part of him had to wonder if she was one of those women who fawned over servicemen, and the thought almost ruined his mood.

Whatever her motive for giving Jake her phone number, he had one up on Rooster who seemed content at the center of the crowded piano. Jake had to hand it to him, he certainly knew how to command attention at a party.

“Hangman wouldn't know pull if it walked through the door and bit him in the ass,” Bob said somewhere off to Jake's left. Coyote and Payback howled.

He swivelled around, finding Phoenix's WSO bent over the pool table, engaged in a friendly game of 9 Ball with Fanboy. Jake hadn't heard them return to their semi-quiet corner of the bar.

Jake chuckled dryly. “That right?”

Bob looked up with a cautious glance in Jake's direction. He didn't always say what was on his mind when it came to the older man, choosing instead to bide his time until the appropriate moment.

“Yeah. . .that's right.”

“Huh.”

Jake shifted in his seat, reaching for a fresh toothpick from the small cup at the center of the table, he rolled it between his teeth. Bob's words hung in the air between the two men and Jake knew they were a challenge, adding a new layer to his and Rooster's game. The problem was, Jake never knew when to back down from a challenge.

He considered again how quickly he had gained Kiley's invitation to call while he was still in town, and decided that maybe raising the stakes a bit more couldn't hurt.

Jake pondered the meaning behind Bob's initial statement; it had wormed its way under his skin and wouldn't let go. He'd always considered himself somewhat of a savant in this area and was rapidly learning from his closest friends that that wasn't the case.

He took a swig of his beer and stood. “All right then. What'd you have in mind?”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at the overconfident pilot who had moved to stand across from the youngest member of Dagger Squad, an unreadable expression darkening his green irises. His tone was scheming, planning in a way that meant more trouble than he was worth. They'd all been invited to the Hangman Show and were being given front-row seats.

“Oh, I-I don't know.”

“Come on, Bob, don't bitch out on me now. You have an idea, let's hear it.”

By then, the crowd around the piano had thinned out and Rooster joined his friends across the bar with a fresh drink and a wide smile. Jake didn't want to ask about the score, not yet ready to know whether he'd be emptying his wallet on the way out.

With the return of Rooster, Bob's confidence in his idea only grew and he abandoned his cue stick on the pool table in favour of sizing Jake up with a smile. “You bet Rooster you could get three women to give you their numbers quicker than he can get one. If you had any game at all, you'd have them all by now.”

“How many do you have, Hangman?” Rooster asked, sitting at the table. He looked a little too calm for someone who was in the middle of a high-stakes bet with his best friend.

“He's got one so far,” Bob answered. He was on a roll and gaining momentum. “How about raising those stakes a little bit more―you let one of us pick the next girl for you?”

“Come on, Hangman. What have you got to lose?”

“Most of the cash in my wallet if Rooster wins.”

“You mean when― when Rooster wins.”

Jake cut an annoyed glance in Rooster's direction, one that said he should consider shutting up if he knew what was good for him. They never came to blows at The Hard Deck, Penny would have both of their asses, but there were other ways Jake had of embarrassing Rooster when his smart mouth got the better of him.

He mulled over Bob's suggestion. If Rooster hadn't scored in the ten minutes Jake spent with Kiley, he probably wouldn't anytime soon. Jake could take his time, he could choose carefully. They could open it up for Dagger Squad to participate in a more hands-on way and choose the next lady who would be lucky enough to score a night with Jake Seresin.

He could give up control for once in his life and put his trust in his friends. It was just sex after all. He wasn't looking to take these women home for longer than it took to enjoy a few rounds between the sheets and never see them again, it was that simple. It all came down to everyone being on the same page. As long as he made it clear that all he wanted was sex with no strings attached, there was no chance of any feelings involved and neither party expected more than that. One-night stands were Jake's go-to, he always knew what he was getting. Why change a system that worked?

All he needed to clinch the win in his bet against Rooster was two more numbers. And he was Jake Seresin, he hadn't met a woman who would turn him down yet.

What did he have to lose?

Jake nodded once, affirming his consent to the added terms. “Well, you boys got yourselves a deal.”

🏷️: @writercole

[colereads]

OOOH it's about to get interesting

[ink-and-smoke]

Bob. The Bob snark. I’m living for it. Stay tuned!

[ink-and-smoke]

Let ’Er Rip

Two: One Down

Summary: Jake and Rooster kick off their bet; and Jake lands his first number of the night. For everyone’s amusement, the stakes are raised a little higher.

A/N: I love this chapter! When I first wrote it so much was happening that I figured Noah deserved her own introduction. She will debut in the next one. I do not give permission for my works to be reposted, translated, or copied elsewhere. Enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Noah “Siren” Copeland (OFC)

Warnings: Hangman is a warning, drinking (does that need to be a warning? They are in a bar)

Word Count: 2650

The game Jake and Rooster were playing was dangerous; Jake was notorious for the trail of hearts he often left behind in the wake of his failure to commit. When anyone asked him why he turned down long-term relationships, he said he enjoyed the bachelor life and that if he ever met a woman worth settling down for, he would know. To date, Jake's revolving door of women remained operational.

His first number of the evening came when he approached Penny Benjamin at the bar to settle the tab for the start of the night and explain the rules of the game.

As owner and bartender, Penny loved a good show whenever her boyfriend's former trainees were in town. Since opening The Hard Deck and rekindling her relationship with Maverick after the uranium mission, looking out for the excitable members of the Dagger Squadron was second nature to her. Members who became extended family to her and her daughter Amelia over the years, and as such Jake and the rest of his squadmates adored Penny as they did their own families.

There was a certain level of deference that Penny demanded of TOPGUN's elite, not only as well-known pilots of the Navy but as honourable men and women. So, when she reminded Jake of her own set of rules and ensured that the two lieutenants were respectful in their endeavours, he gave his word. Penny settled the first round of drink tabs, and opened one for Jake and Rooster's bet, sending him away with a fresh beer and her blessing (she didn't tell the young pilot of her and Maverick's side bet).

Jake turned his back to the counter with a polite Yes, ma'am and a smile that would melt his mama's heart, raising his beer in silent cheers and nodding to Rooster who remained occupied at the pool table. And their little quest for the evening was off without a hitch.

“Buy a lady a drink?”

Silky smooth, the voice appeared on Jake's right and drew his eyes to the wide baby blues sweeping over his tall muscular frame. The visitor's actions gave Jake pause to do the same.

She was tall in a stalky sort of way, with long, tanned limbs that told Jake she spent much of her time on the beach, selfishly warming her California gold skin in the sun. Her pale blue eyes offered a striking contrast to that sun-kissed shine, hidden beneath what the pilot knew was a jet-black sleeveless body suit that disappeared into the top of light wash high-waisted denim shorts. He let his eyes wander quickly over the open space between the low notch at her cleavage, she came dressed to impress.

“What's your poison?” he asked, slipping effortlessly into his bar-grown persona. The one he used when he wanted to pick up a girl and take her home for the night, not necessarily with the chance of seeing her again.

“I'll have what you're having,” she said. Jake flagged Penny down with a quick hand up and mouthed one more and a nod of thanks. “What brings a guy like you to a bar like this?”

“Just visiting,” he said. He made it a point to keep his sex life and Navy life separate. He had a hard rule of never bedding the same woman twice; he saw no point in telling a random girl he was only gonna fuck once what he did for a living. If she happened to find out on her own, he couldn't fault her for that, but he didn't go around flashing his dog tags and medals for her.

“Thanks for the drink. . .”

“Jake.”

“Thanks for the drink, Jake.” She pushed one hand through the curtain of crisp beach waves―dark brown accented by golden highlights―on the crown of her head, and wrapped the other around the beer bottle in front of her. Then she leaned as far into Jake's space as the surface of her stool and the counter would allow. “Kiley.”

Jake knew from the moment she sat down that Kiley was exactly the kind of woman Rooster described to him on their way into The Hard Deck earlier that night, the kind just desperate enough to give him her number. With any luck, Kiley would be his first step to winning their little bet, and he couldn't say he felt particularly bad using her that way. If he had to guess, she probably wasn't the kind of woman who felt particularly bad being used that way either.

He chuckled and raised his beer to his lips. “Pleasure, ma'am.”

Kiley's tittering almost made it too easy. “Ma'am?”

“Just bein' polite.”

“I didn't take you for a polite kinda guy, Jake.”

“What can I say, my mama raised a southern gentleman. Good manners are hard to forget.”

“A southern gentleman?” Kiley swooned.

Jake nodded, smiling. “Yes, ma'am. Elgin, Texas born and raised. Moved to Austin with my dad when I was 16, but that was short-lived. Didn't quite measure up to that small-town feel.”

As she leaned further into his space, Jake knew he had her. Some women found Rooster's floral shirts and crude attempts to appear suave charming, but there were the few who fell for Jake's sweet southern boy routine every time. The ones who got off on the challenge of corrupting such a well-intentioned boy, and he could tell Kiley was no different.

He met Penny's eyes behind the bar and left a ten-dollar bill on the counter, then turned to his present company. “Pardon me, miss. I'm not usually one to buy a pretty girl a drink and leave her hangin' but I met some friends of mine here tonight, and I don't want them thinkin' I skipped out on 'em.”

Kiley hummed low and sweet in the back of her throat. Jake watched her pull a pen and piece of paper from the small black purse at her side. “You really are a gentleman, aren't you? Well, you're not leaving me hanging, I came with my girlfriends.”

“Local or just visiting?” he asked, making enough polite small talk to keep her interested.

“All of us are local enough. But I'll tell you what, if you happen to get bored with your friends, here's my number. Call me. Maybe you can show me more of those good southern manners,” she said smiling. Before she handed him the paper she slowly brought it up to her lips leaving behind a glossy kiss. “See you 'round, Jake. Thanks for the drink.”

One down, two more to go.

“Jake Seresin, you should be ashamed of yourself.” Penny gathered the empty bottles and discarded them in the bin behind the counter. She stood with her hands on her hips, a look somewhere between impressed and mildly disgusted threatened to break out across her features and she put that energy into wiping down the bar instead.

The blond laughed, green eyes twinkling behind the warmth of alcohol and the high of his first success. He pressed a hand to his chest. “And yet, I sleep like a baby at night.”

“I'm watching you, Hangman,” she warned.

“Yes, ma'am.” He retrieved his refreshed beer and stalked away from the bar leaving Penny shaking her head at his back.

Kiley had been too easy. His mother would lose her mind if she knew the shit he was getting up to and using her sweet teachings to do so. He had to laugh. 

“Are you and Rooster really doing this?” Coyote asked once Jake rejoined their table.

Jake hummed, sitting forward and watching Rooster gather a crowd of locals around the piano. He was always in a different element sitting at the piano, more laid-back. Free in a way that contrasted how he was in the air. Without the shadow of death trailing behind him, recklessly pumping adrenaline into his veins, Rooster let himself relax there in The Hard Deck. He let himself just be.

Jake played with the label on his beer bottle and searched the bar for his scattered squadmates. “We're not just doing it,” he said with a proud smile. “I'm winning.”

Coyote shook his head, certain Jake's high-level confidence in the matter was misplaced but the man only chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

On the table between them, Jake placed a neatly folded piece of paper that he pulled from the front pocket of his jeans. He raised an amused eyebrow, a cocky lopsided grin pulled at the corner of his mouth and dimpled his right cheek. He tapped on the tabletop next to the paper.

One number with bright pink lipgloss next to it adorned the now unfolded page, and Jake's smile grew at Coyote’s obvious astonishment.

“I'm not even gonna ask when or how, I'm just gonna present this fresh beer and wait for the thrilling conclusion.” Coyote knew Jake had an ace up his sleeve, something to ensure his one-nothing lead on Rooster ended with his wingman shamefully forking over payment for however many drinks Jake would order. It's who he was, it's who he'd been since the two of them had met at the Academy.

“What can I say, Coyote, ladies love the southern charm.”

“You're full of shit, Hangman.”

“Maybe but it works.”

“And I hate to break it to you, but that's only one number, man. You're not winning, you're barely in the lead. All Rooster needs is one, and it's over.”

“See that's the beauty of it, Coyote. Rooster doesn't have pull―”

Phoenix's laugh brought the end of his cocky reply to a screeching halt. She dropped her left hand to his right shoulder and leaned down to speak tauntingly in his ear, “And you do?”

Jake took pride in his ability to bullshit his way out of anything, but the one thing he couldn't do was lie through his teeth when confronted by Phoenix. He talked a big game, she knew it, the whole squad knew it. Jake liked to think the show he put on worked a hundred percent of the time when in reality, he just got lucky.

He held Kiley's number in his hands and rubbed the corner of it between his thumb and forefinger. He couldn't get the way she smelled out of his head; saltwater and sunshine mixed with a little too much alcohol. Part of him had to wonder if she was one of those women who fawned over servicemen, and the thought almost ruined his mood.

Whatever her motive for giving Jake her phone number, he had one up on Rooster who seemed content at the center of the crowded piano. Jake had to hand it to him, he certainly knew how to command attention at a party.

“Hangman wouldn't know pull if it walked through the door and bit him in the ass,” Bob said somewhere off to Jake's left. Coyote and Payback howled.

He swivelled around, finding Phoenix's WSO bent over the pool table, engaged in a friendly game of 9 Ball with Fanboy. Jake hadn't heard them return to their semi-quiet corner of the bar.

Jake chuckled dryly. “That right?”

Bob looked up with a cautious glance in Jake's direction. He didn't always say what was on his mind when it came to the older man, choosing instead to bide his time until the appropriate moment.

“Yeah. . .that's right.”

“Huh.”

Jake shifted in his seat, reaching for a fresh toothpick from the small cup at the center of the table, he rolled it between his teeth. Bob's words hung in the air between the two men and Jake knew they were a challenge, adding a new layer to his and Rooster's game. The problem was, Jake never knew when to back down from a challenge.

He considered again how quickly he had gained Kiley's invitation to call while he was still in town, and decided that maybe raising the stakes a bit more couldn't hurt.

Jake pondered the meaning behind Bob's initial statement; it had wormed its way under his skin and wouldn't let go. He'd always considered himself somewhat of a savant in this area and was rapidly learning from his closest friends that that wasn't the case.

He took a swig of his beer and stood. “All right then. What'd you have in mind?”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at the overconfident pilot who had moved to stand across from the youngest member of Dagger Squad, an unreadable expression darkening his green irises. His tone was scheming, planning in a way that meant more trouble than he was worth. They'd all been invited to the Hangman Show and were being given front-row seats.

“Oh, I-I don't know.”

“Come on, Bob, don't bitch out on me now. You have an idea, let's hear it.”

By then, the crowd around the piano had thinned out and Rooster joined his friends across the bar with a fresh drink and a wide smile. Jake didn't want to ask about the score, not yet ready to know whether he'd be emptying his wallet on the way out.

With the return of Rooster, Bob's confidence in his idea only grew and he abandoned his cue stick on the pool table in favour of sizing Jake up with a smile. “You bet Rooster you could get three women to give you their numbers quicker than he can get one. If you had any game at all, you'd have them all by now.”

“How many do you have, Hangman?” Rooster asked, sitting at the table. He looked a little too calm for someone who was in the middle of a high-stakes bet with his best friend.

“He's got one so far,” Bob answered. He was on a roll and gaining momentum. “How about raising those stakes a little bit more―you let one of us pick the next girl for you?”

“Come on, Hangman. What have you got to lose?”

“Most of the cash in my wallet if Rooster wins.”

“You mean when― when Rooster wins.”

Jake cut an annoyed glance in Rooster's direction, one that said he should consider shutting up if he knew what was good for him. They never came to blows at The Hard Deck, Penny would have both of their asses, but there were other ways Jake had of embarrassing Rooster when his smart mouth got the better of him.

He mulled over Bob's suggestion. If Rooster hadn't scored in the ten minutes Jake spent with Kiley, he probably wouldn't anytime soon. Jake could take his time, he could choose carefully. They could open it up for Dagger Squad to participate in a more hands-on way and choose the next lady who would be lucky enough to score a night with Jake Seresin.

He could give up control for once in his life and put his trust in his friends. It was just sex after all. He wasn't looking to take these women home for longer than it took to enjoy a few rounds between the sheets and never see them again, it was that simple. It all came down to everyone being on the same page. As long as he made it clear that all he wanted was sex with no strings attached, there was no chance of any feelings involved and neither party expected more than that. One-night stands were Jake's go-to, he always knew what he was getting. Why change a system that worked?

All he needed to clinch the win in his bet against Rooster was two more numbers. And he was Jake Seresin, he hadn't met a woman who would turn him down yet.

What did he have to lose?

Jake nodded once, affirming his consent to the added terms. “Well, you boys got yourselves a deal.”

🏷️: @writercole

[ink-and-smoke]

Maybe chapter two today.

If I can stop finding new ways for Noah to completely wreck Hangman’s shit in the middle of The Hard Deck while Penny applauds her. 👀

[ink-and-smoke]

So, here’s the deal: I am nervous about chapter two. I am not sure it holds up as well as I feel like it does and because of that, I am extremely reluctant to post. Chapter one burned in and that was that. Likes mean nothing to me, if I do not know what you like or dislike about my work.

However, I am still excited for this story. Though, admittedly less so compared to when I began.

I guess we will see.

[ink-and-smoke]

I always love reading that fic where someone hands Jake Seresin’s ass to him and is like “shut the fuck up.”

Now, I’m loving writing that fic where someone hands Jake Seresin’s ass to him and is like “shut the fuck up.”

[ink-and-smoke]

@writercole why would you leave this hidden in the comments? It’s true.

[ink-and-smoke]

Me, as the author: Hangman, I am literally begging you Not To Do That.

Also me, as the author: You are the dumb bitch who wrote him this way.

Once again me, as the author: At least he is true to character form.

Anyone else go through this process a billion times over while writing?

[ink-and-smoke]

I always love reading that fic where someone hands Jake Seresin’s ass to him and is like “shut the fuck up.”

Now, I’m loving writing that fic where someone hands Jake Seresin’s ass to him and is like “shut the fuck up.”

[snaxle-archive-deactivated20251]

people moving to tumblr from twitter please fucking reblog art likes literally dont do anything except make the artist upset bc they have 2 reblogs and 55 likes

[snaxle-archive-deactivated20251]

yes this includes fanfiction, gif sets, edits, etc.

[ink-and-smoke]

Thought I was done with chapter two, added 2k+ more words. LOL

[ink-and-smoke]

Let ’Er Rip

One: The Boys Are Back

Summary: Dagger Squad is recalled to TOPGUN; Hangman and Rooster make a bet; everyone reunites at The Hard Deck.

A/N: And we’re off!! I do not give permission for my works to be reposted, translated, or copied elsewhere. Enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Noah “Siren” Copeland (OFC)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2281

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky and greeted Jake after a long, boring flight back to base. His recall to TOPGUN came at the tail end of yet another tour, it was an unforeseen surprise, but one he was grateful for nonetheless. As with the last mission, no one knew why the Dagger Squadron had been called in again.

Being back at North Island always felt like coming home, though Jake had not truly been home in a long time. The years passed on without him seeing the dirt roads of Austin, he had lost count of how many. His mother kept asking when he planned to visit and each time he left her with the same answer: “Ma, once you’ve seen one painted sky, you’ve seen ’em all.” He knew that was a load of horseshit. Nothing would ever hold a candle to the golden glory sunrises and cotton candy sunsets of home. . .

He shook his head; green eyes easily finding the golden orb of light across the horizon. Truth was, Jake had no idea when he would make it home again. Going back was not something he thought of often, and even less since returning to TOPGUN. There was work to be done in San Diego but he just could not bring himself to break his mama’s heart like that. Instead, he told her he would think about it, and breathed a sigh of relief when that seemed to appease her for the time being.

Laughter carried along the light breeze behind him pulled the lieutenant out of homesick thoughts and back to the present. An arm slung over his shoulders and a familiar gravelly tone he would never forget.

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.” The words rolled off of his tongue with ease, and he settled into the warmth that being back in Rooster’s presence brought.

“Hangman,” Rooster nodded, looking the man beside him up and down behind a pair of dark aviator sunglasses. “You look good.” He squeezed Jake’s left trapezius muscle, patting his friend on the chest.

“I am good, Rooster. I’m very good.”

Rooster let out a hearty guffaw, tossing his head back and clutching a hand to his chest. They had done that exchange for years; he couldn’t remember how it started but he was happy to see that it hadn’t ended.

Jake pulled his own aviator sunglasses down the bridge of his nose just far enough to eye his wingman’s attire, scrunching his nose in mild distaste at the tacky beige Hawaiian print button-up shirt that had become a staple among the man’s civilian wardrobe. Some things never changed.

“Would it kill you to be a little less embarrassing tonight?” he asked. He had a feeling Rooster’s fashion sense, or lack thereof was going to contribute heavily in a negative direction to his mission of getting laid.

“I’ll have you know,” Rooster said, hopping into the front seat of Jake’s truck, “the ladies dig the shirt.” At least that level of assuredness was not lacking.

“Hm. We’ll see,” he said.

“Don’t believe me?”

“I believe you’re a bit delusional, pal.”

“All right, if I pull tonight, you pay for my drinks.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I’ll pay for yours.”

The offer certainly was tempting. Jake knew somewhere in the back of his mind that a bet with Rooster of this calibre was too easy. It wasn’t the shirt women found charming, it was Rooster himself.

Jake, on the other hand, was known across North Island as TOPGUN’s resident player, a serial dater. If there were awards for having casual sex he would have won them all by now. He was sure Dagger Squad knew it. Over the years Jake’s reputation as Hangman wasn’t the only one he became famous for. He never closed, settling down wasn’t in his cards.

Paying for Rooster’s drinks all evening was not how he wanted to spend their first night back. They were reuniting with the crew, catching up. And maybe if he was lucky, he’d find a pretty girl to take home for the night.

An idea sparked in his mind and he chuckled to himself, pulling into the parking lot outside of The Hard Deck. The bar’s neon sign was a welcoming beacon lighting the way back home, and Jake’s heart soared.

He cut the truck’s engine, turning to face Rooster in the passenger seat with a thoughtful grin. “How about we raise the stakes?”

Rooster tucked his sunglasses up to rest on the perfectly gelled peaks of his brown hair. “Okay?”

“Three numbers. If I pull all three in less time than it takes you to snag even one, the round’s on you. If I don’t and you do, it’s on me.” Jake reached in the backseat for his bomber jacket, then got out and closed the door. He tucked his keys into the front pocket of his jeans, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He had this bet in the bag. If anyone could waltz into The Hard Deck, sweet talk his way through a good time and end the evening with a girl on his arm―or her number in his pocket and two more lined up―it was Jake Seresin. What, with his light brown hair and shimmering green eyes, he couldn’t lose. Rooster didn’t stand a chance.

“The whole round?” he asked as they approached the bar’s double door entrance.

“The whole round,” he confirmed with a nod.

Rooster thought for a moment, canvasing the bar for the rest of Dagger Squad’s pilots. “And how will you know which women are gonna be desperate enough to give you their number?”

Jake laughed, hooking his sunglasses onto the front of his t-shirt. “I’ll know ’em when I see ’em.”

“Hangman! Rooster! Over here.” A hand shot up through the crowded bar from the window by the pool table, followed by Coyote’s smiling face. Jake couldn’t remember the last time they’d all been in this place, together.

Jake politely elbowed his way through the crowd of patrons with Rooster trailing close behind him. He felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders as they neared their squadmates, he could almost taste the joy in the air, charged with electricity. There they stood, just beyond his reach. . . Coyote, Payback, Phoenix, Fanboy, Bob. . . Every one of them looked exactly as they had the last time they parted ways, if not a bit older, a bit more battle-hardened. Stronger, he thought with pride.

His smile widened, his cheeks dimpled. A few more steps and he was within hugging range, pulled into the middle of the group by Coyote, and Rooster pulled in after him by Fanboy. Cheers erupted around the bar at Dagger Squadron’s reunion, an event that begged celebration. TOPGUN’s elite finally returned home.

“How’s it feel to be back, Bagman?” Bob asked, his grin about a mile wide and growing. The soft-spoken welcome elicited another round of laughter, and Jake patted the smaller man on the shoulder.

“Hangman,” he corrected playfully, no trace of malice in his voice. “Feels good, feels real good.”

Phoenix nudged Coyote out of the way, stepping up between the men for her own welcome-back hug from the tall blond. It was strange to think back on times past when the animosity between them had been so great you could cut the tension with a knife, and now. . . Well, there was no place else they’d rather be.

“Phoenix,” he greeted with open arms.

“Hangman,” she returned, tucking herself under his chin. She would never admit it, but Jake had become an older brother to her. Sure, they were on the same team, but those nights away when the fight was a little too heavy, Hangman was the one she called to reel her back in. Phoenix was a better version of herself because he challenged her in ways no one else did.

Jake felt it too, the shift in their friendship. When it stopped being about who was the best and started being about how they could strengthen each other’s weaknesses. Phoenix was the first one to see through his bad boy façade, to call him out on all the bullshit he tried to convince himself was true. Taking her under his wing had come with the territory after that.

He tightened his arms around her shoulders and allowed himself to breathe in the comfort of her for a few more seconds. God, it felt good to be back.

Rooster shoved them from behind, a hand wrapped around Phoenix’s arms where they held tight to Jake’s back. “All right, all right. What am I, chopped liver? Get over here.”

A quiet laugh escaped the lieutenant as he released the young woman, moving aside to let Rooster pull her in. He took a moment to step outside the group, to watch his friends―his brothers, his sister―come back together after what felt like an eternity apart. He decided at that moment it didn’t matter why they had been recalled to TOPGUN, it only mattered that they were all back where they belonged.

“Hey, Hangman, what are you thinking?” Payback asked, racking a game of 9 Ball.

Jake laid his jacket over the back of a chair, stretched his arms in the air and rested his hands behind his head, locking his fingers together. His eyes swept over the faces of each member of Dagger Squad, committing them again to his memory. “I’m thinkin’. . .” he drew out in a slow breath, Texan accent low and clear in the shadow of happiness settling over him. He met Rooster’s eyes, giving his wingman a subtle nod, “. . .the boys are back in town, we should be drinkin’.”

—

The evening was officially in full swing; music droned on from the jukebox, and conversation overlapped from all corners of the bar. The atmosphere in The Hard Deck remained warm and inviting, and Jake’s thoughts drifted to his bet with Rooster. They had been there for about an hour and a half now, neither one breaching the topic yet but Jake couldn’t get it off his mind.

He had just won his third game of 9 Ball against Payback, and almost felt sorry for the guy. It wasn’t his fault that he was so good at it. That’s what weekends with my dad were like, he’d said. While other kids went hunting, he spent his time learning to play pool and darts and swindling people out of their cash. And when Rooster gave him that sad look of recognition that said he understood why Jake was the way he was, he simply shrugged and assured the group that that’s just how dads are. Jake wouldn’t admit until later that he knew it was why his mother held onto him so tight.

“I’m surprised Hangman’s not trying to sweet talk his way into a one-night stand, right now,” Phoenix remarked, changing the subject. Jake’s eyes once again found Rooster’s across the pool table.

“You know, it’s funny you should mention that, Phoenix.” Rooster set his cue stick against the wall and moved over to rest an arm on Phoenix’s shoulder. He gestured to Jake with a knowing smile, “Myself and Hangman here, happen to have a bet.”

His admission piqued the curiosity of the whole squadron, including Bob who’d been content to sit back with a book―now cast aside in favour of listening to this new piece of information.

“You two have a bet?” Phoenix said, pointing at Hangman and Rooster in turn. “Do tell.”

“Well, Phoenix, Rooster bet that he could pull any of the ladies in this bar while dressed like he just walked out of a tourist shop,” Jake supplied. He nodded to the pool table, bending over with his cue stick in hand. “9-ball, corner pocket.”

Amid groans from Fanboy and Payback who fished ten dollar bills from their wallets and placed them in the middle of their shared table, Phoenix urged the two rivals-turned-friends to continue their explanation. It wasn’t every day she got a chance to see Rooster put Hangman in his place, if that was even where things were headed.

Rooster took a sip of his beer and pointed to Jake with an amused chuckle. “And Hangman bet he can get three of these women to give him their numbers in less time than it takes me to woo one.”

Bob and Coyote looked at each other, then at Rooster who was smiling confidently from his spot next to Phoenix. Everyone knew what a bad idea a bet like that against Hangman was; considering he had just won $20 from Payback and Fanboy again, Rooster should’ve known too. To his credit, he didn’t seem the least bit discouraged.

Phoenix folded her arms in front of her chest, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. She knew her best friend was stupid, but she hadn’t pegged him for a complete moron. “So, those are the stakes,” she said. “What do you get if you win?”

“The whole round of drinks encompassing the bet will be on Hangman’s tab.”

“And if he wins?”

“Then it’s on Rooster. Ain’t that right, Lieutenant Bradshaw?”

A wink and handshake between them sealed the deal backed by a chorus of protests from the rest of Dagger Squad. It didn’t take a genius to see that their night had just taken an interesting, if not terrible, turn into uncharted waters. The only thing any of them knew for certain was that the boys were definitely back in town, and they wouldn’t change the course their lives were on for anything.

[colereads]

Oh this is gonna be so fucking great.

[ink-and-smoke]

I certainly hope so!! I have plans for Hangman. He’s in for a wild ride.

[ink-and-smoke]

Editing chapter two of Let ’Er Rip for posting in a few days.

Make sure you get caught up! (:

[ink-and-smoke]

Forgot to mention — If you would like to be tagged in upcoming posts, please let me know.

[ink-and-smoke]

Editing chapter two of Let ’Er Rip for posting in a few days.

Make sure you get caught up! (:

[ink-and-smoke]

Let ’Er Rip

One: The Boys Are Back

Summary: Dagger Squad is recalled to TOPGUN; Hangman and Rooster make a bet; everyone reunites at The Hard Deck.

A/N: And we’re off!! I do not give permission for my works to be reposted, translated, or copied elsewhere. Enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Noah “Siren” Copeland (OFC)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2281

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky and greeted Jake after a long, boring flight back to base. His recall to TOPGUN came at the tail end of yet another tour, it was an unforeseen surprise, but one he was grateful for nonetheless. As with the last mission, no one knew why the Dagger Squadron had been called in again.

Being back at North Island always felt like coming home, though Jake had not truly been home in a long time. The years passed on without him seeing the dirt roads of Austin, he had lost count of how many. His mother kept asking when he planned to visit and each time he left her with the same answer: “Ma, once you’ve seen one painted sky, you’ve seen ’em all.” He knew that was a load of horseshit. Nothing would ever hold a candle to the golden glory sunrises and cotton candy sunsets of home. . .

He shook his head; green eyes easily finding the golden orb of light across the horizon. Truth was, Jake had no idea when he would make it home again. Going back was not something he thought of often, and even less since returning to TOPGUN. There was work to be done in San Diego but he just could not bring himself to break his mama’s heart like that. Instead, he told her he would think about it, and breathed a sigh of relief when that seemed to appease her for the time being.

Laughter carried along the light breeze behind him pulled the lieutenant out of homesick thoughts and back to the present. An arm slung over his shoulders and a familiar gravelly tone he would never forget.

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.” The words rolled off of his tongue with ease, and he settled into the warmth that being back in Rooster’s presence brought.

“Hangman,” Rooster nodded, looking the man beside him up and down behind a pair of dark aviator sunglasses. “You look good.” He squeezed Jake’s left trapezius muscle, patting his friend on the chest.

“I am good, Rooster. I’m very good.”

Rooster let out a hearty guffaw, tossing his head back and clutching a hand to his chest. They had done that exchange for years; he couldn’t remember how it started but he was happy to see that it hadn’t ended.

Jake pulled his own aviator sunglasses down the bridge of his nose just far enough to eye his wingman’s attire, scrunching his nose in mild distaste at the tacky beige Hawaiian print button-up shirt that had become a staple among the man’s civilian wardrobe. Some things never changed.

“Would it kill you to be a little less embarrassing tonight?” he asked. He had a feeling Rooster’s fashion sense, or lack thereof was going to contribute heavily in a negative direction to his mission of getting laid.

“I’ll have you know,” Rooster said, hopping into the front seat of Jake’s truck, “the ladies dig the shirt.” At least that level of assuredness was not lacking.

“Hm. We’ll see,” he said.

“Don’t believe me?”

“I believe you’re a bit delusional, pal.”

“All right, if I pull tonight, you pay for my drinks.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I’ll pay for yours.”

The offer certainly was tempting. Jake knew somewhere in the back of his mind that a bet with Rooster of this calibre was too easy. It wasn’t the shirt women found charming, it was Rooster himself.

Jake, on the other hand, was known across North Island as TOPGUN’s resident player, a serial dater. If there were awards for having casual sex he would have won them all by now. He was sure Dagger Squad knew it. Over the years Jake’s reputation as Hangman wasn’t the only one he became famous for. He never closed, settling down wasn’t in his cards.

Paying for Rooster’s drinks all evening was not how he wanted to spend their first night back. They were reuniting with the crew, catching up. And maybe if he was lucky, he’d find a pretty girl to take home for the night.

An idea sparked in his mind and he chuckled to himself, pulling into the parking lot outside of The Hard Deck. The bar’s neon sign was a welcoming beacon lighting the way back home, and Jake’s heart soared.

He cut the truck’s engine, turning to face Rooster in the passenger seat with a thoughtful grin. “How about we raise the stakes?”

Rooster tucked his sunglasses up to rest on the perfectly gelled peaks of his brown hair. “Okay?”

“Three numbers. If I pull all three in less time than it takes you to snag even one, the round’s on you. If I don’t and you do, it’s on me.” Jake reached in the backseat for his bomber jacket, then got out and closed the door. He tucked his keys into the front pocket of his jeans, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He had this bet in the bag. If anyone could waltz into The Hard Deck, sweet talk his way through a good time and end the evening with a girl on his arm―or her number in his pocket and two more lined up―it was Jake Seresin. What, with his light brown hair and shimmering green eyes, he couldn’t lose. Rooster didn’t stand a chance.

“The whole round?” he asked as they approached the bar’s double door entrance.

“The whole round,” he confirmed with a nod.

Rooster thought for a moment, canvasing the bar for the rest of Dagger Squad’s pilots. “And how will you know which women are gonna be desperate enough to give you their number?”

Jake laughed, hooking his sunglasses onto the front of his t-shirt. “I’ll know ’em when I see ’em.”

“Hangman! Rooster! Over here.” A hand shot up through the crowded bar from the window by the pool table, followed by Coyote’s smiling face. Jake couldn’t remember the last time they’d all been in this place, together.

Jake politely elbowed his way through the crowd of patrons with Rooster trailing close behind him. He felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders as they neared their squadmates, he could almost taste the joy in the air, charged with electricity. There they stood, just beyond his reach. . . Coyote, Payback, Phoenix, Fanboy, Bob. . . Every one of them looked exactly as they had the last time they parted ways, if not a bit older, a bit more battle-hardened. Stronger, he thought with pride.

His smile widened, his cheeks dimpled. A few more steps and he was within hugging range, pulled into the middle of the group by Coyote, and Rooster pulled in after him by Fanboy. Cheers erupted around the bar at Dagger Squadron’s reunion, an event that begged celebration. TOPGUN’s elite finally returned home.

“How’s it feel to be back, Bagman?” Bob asked, his grin about a mile wide and growing. The soft-spoken welcome elicited another round of laughter, and Jake patted the smaller man on the shoulder.

“Hangman,” he corrected playfully, no trace of malice in his voice. “Feels good, feels real good.”

Phoenix nudged Coyote out of the way, stepping up between the men for her own welcome-back hug from the tall blond. It was strange to think back on times past when the animosity between them had been so great you could cut the tension with a knife, and now. . . Well, there was no place else they’d rather be.

“Phoenix,” he greeted with open arms.

“Hangman,” she returned, tucking herself under his chin. She would never admit it, but Jake had become an older brother to her. Sure, they were on the same team, but those nights away when the fight was a little too heavy, Hangman was the one she called to reel her back in. Phoenix was a better version of herself because he challenged her in ways no one else did.

Jake felt it too, the shift in their friendship. When it stopped being about who was the best and started being about how they could strengthen each other’s weaknesses. Phoenix was the first one to see through his bad boy façade, to call him out on all the bullshit he tried to convince himself was true. Taking her under his wing had come with the territory after that.

He tightened his arms around her shoulders and allowed himself to breathe in the comfort of her for a few more seconds. God, it felt good to be back.

Rooster shoved them from behind, a hand wrapped around Phoenix’s arms where they held tight to Jake’s back. “All right, all right. What am I, chopped liver? Get over here.”

A quiet laugh escaped the lieutenant as he released the young woman, moving aside to let Rooster pull her in. He took a moment to step outside the group, to watch his friends―his brothers, his sister―come back together after what felt like an eternity apart. He decided at that moment it didn’t matter why they had been recalled to TOPGUN, it only mattered that they were all back where they belonged.

“Hey, Hangman, what are you thinking?” Payback asked, racking a game of 9 Ball.

Jake laid his jacket over the back of a chair, stretched his arms in the air and rested his hands behind his head, locking his fingers together. His eyes swept over the faces of each member of Dagger Squad, committing them again to his memory. “I’m thinkin’. . .” he drew out in a slow breath, Texan accent low and clear in the shadow of happiness settling over him. He met Rooster’s eyes, giving his wingman a subtle nod, “. . .the boys are back in town, we should be drinkin’.”

—

The evening was officially in full swing; music droned on from the jukebox, and conversation overlapped from all corners of the bar. The atmosphere in The Hard Deck remained warm and inviting, and Jake’s thoughts drifted to his bet with Rooster. They had been there for about an hour and a half now, neither one breaching the topic yet but Jake couldn’t get it off his mind.

He had just won his third game of 9 Ball against Payback, and almost felt sorry for the guy. It wasn’t his fault that he was so good at it. That’s what weekends with my dad were like, he’d said. While other kids went hunting, he spent his time learning to play pool and darts and swindling people out of their cash. And when Rooster gave him that sad look of recognition that said he understood why Jake was the way he was, he simply shrugged and assured the group that that’s just how dads are. Jake wouldn’t admit until later that he knew it was why his mother held onto him so tight.

“I’m surprised Hangman’s not trying to sweet talk his way into a one-night stand, right now,” Phoenix remarked, changing the subject. Jake’s eyes once again found Rooster’s across the pool table.

“You know, it’s funny you should mention that, Phoenix.” Rooster set his cue stick against the wall and moved over to rest an arm on Phoenix’s shoulder. He gestured to Jake with a knowing smile, “Myself and Hangman here, happen to have a bet.”

His admission piqued the curiosity of the whole squadron, including Bob who’d been content to sit back with a book―now cast aside in favour of listening to this new piece of information.

“You two have a bet?” Phoenix said, pointing at Hangman and Rooster in turn. “Do tell.”

“Well, Phoenix, Rooster bet that he could pull any of the ladies in this bar while dressed like he just walked out of a tourist shop,” Jake supplied. He nodded to the pool table, bending over with his cue stick in hand. “9-ball, corner pocket.”

Amid groans from Fanboy and Payback who fished ten dollar bills from their wallets and placed them in the middle of their shared table, Phoenix urged the two rivals-turned-friends to continue their explanation. It wasn’t every day she got a chance to see Rooster put Hangman in his place, if that was even where things were headed.

Rooster took a sip of his beer and pointed to Jake with an amused chuckle. “And Hangman bet he can get three of these women to give him their numbers in less time than it takes me to woo one.”

Bob and Coyote looked at each other, then at Rooster who was smiling confidently from his spot next to Phoenix. Everyone knew what a bad idea a bet like that against Hangman was; considering he had just won $20 from Payback and Fanboy again, Rooster should’ve known too. To his credit, he didn’t seem the least bit discouraged.

Phoenix folded her arms in front of her chest, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. She knew her best friend was stupid, but she hadn’t pegged him for a complete moron. “So, those are the stakes,” she said. “What do you get if you win?”

“The whole round of drinks encompassing the bet will be on Hangman’s tab.”

“And if he wins?”

“Then it’s on Rooster. Ain’t that right, Lieutenant Bradshaw?”

A wink and handshake between them sealed the deal backed by a chorus of protests from the rest of Dagger Squad. It didn’t take a genius to see that their night had just taken an interesting, if not terrible, turn into uncharted waters. The only thing any of them knew for certain was that the boys were definitely back in town, and they wouldn’t change the course their lives were on for anything.