#WinterRomComChallenge

[roosterforme]

Pink Christmas Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Flying in the annual holiday air show dressed as Santa Claus was just something Bradley considered to be part of his job. But when he meets an inquisitive little girl and her beautiful mom, suddenly he wants to make all of their Christmas wishes come true. The only problem is, your daughter actually believes he's Santa, and he's not sure how he's going to keep up the charade when he wants to pursue you as just Bradley.

Warnings: Fluff, language, single mom reader, mentions of loss of spouse

Length: 8000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Pink Christmas masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32. Written for @bellaireland1981 Winter RomCom Challenge

You sat on a beach towel in the grass with your face tilted up toward the warm sun and your five year old daughter on your lap. Never would you have imagined wearing short sleeves and enjoying this kind of warmth in December, but your life had turned unpredictable in the past twelve months. And that included leaving a city that was currently buried in snow for the perpetual summer of southern California. 

"Mommy! Look!" your daughter shouted unnecessarily loudly, making you laugh. She turned around with wide eyes to make sure you were looking where she was pointing as she adjusted her pink noise canceling headphones. "It's Santa!"

You slid her headphones off since it wasn't loud at the moment, and you looked out across the runway at the Miramar Air Show to see a tall pilot dressed as Santa Claus walking toward his fighter jet with a group of other pilots dressed as elves right behind him. "I see him," you told her, kissing her cheek as she bounced with excitement. "It looks like he's going to fly one of the airplanes."

"Why does Santa have an airplane?" she asked. "And where are his reindeer? And why are the elves getting in airplanes, too?"

You were saved from having to answer her questions as the aircraft engines fired to life for the finale of the show, and you put her ear protection back in place before putting your own earplugs back in. Honestly, you didn't know how to explain to your child who still believed in the magic of Christmas why Santa was taking off in a jet that said ROOSTER on the side of it. Frankly there were a lot of things you didn't know how to explain to her.

She clapped her hands when the jets swooped overhead in an impossible looking formation before looping back around and doing it again. Your heart melted as you watched her wave to the lead jet and shout, "Hi, Santa!" The planes roared overhead and shot upwards before coming back one by one to the land on the runway with such incredible looking ease.

When she whipped her headphones off herself this time, your daughter jumped to her feet with a huge smile on her face. "Let's go talk to Santa," she said, reaching back for your hand. 

But you already had your eyes glued on the pilot who quickly replaced his helmet with a white beard and Saint Nick hat. You couldn't help but watch him, enjoying that distant glimpse of him before he went into full Santa character again. He looked tall and strong as he climbed down the ladder in his bright red flight suit, and you had to look away as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. He waved to everyone in the crowd, and it felt like he was waving right at the two of you.

"Mommy!"

You knew she wasn't going to be deterred from this mission, so you got to your feet and let her tug you along as you tried to fold the towel one handed. "Sweetheart, Santa and his elves might be too busy to talk to us right now," you warned her as the group of six elves in bright green flight suits started fist bumping Santa Claus. And your steps faltered, because Santa somehow just got more attractive the closer you got.

------------------------

"Who let you be Santa anyway?" Jake asked, tugging on his red and green striped hat with enormous elf ears attached to the sides. "This elf bullshit is a damn disgrace."

"I volunteered to be Santa before the rest of you got a chance. Do I look like I'd make a good elf?" Bradley asked, and Jake rolled his eyes. "No. I do not." He was the tallest one in the group, and luckily he was able to sweet talk Maverick into letting him be the one to don the beard and the red flight suit for today's Miramar for the Holidays event they all volunteered to fly for. 

"Maverick should have mixed things up and made me Santa," Nat said with her chin in the air. 

"But you're the cutest little elf I've ever seen," Bradley told her, earning a smack on the back of his arm from her helmet. "Ow!"

"Wait, are we complaining?" Mickey asked. "I like being an elf. And apparently we get free food and hot cocoa in the volunteers tent."

"Oh, shit. Really?" Reuben asked, craning his neck to look toward the tent in question.

Bradley was about to remind everyone that they were obligated to pose for photos with kids when he heard a voice calling out, "Santa! Hey, Santa!" He turned toward the four foot tall chain link fence as an adorable little girl dragged a grown woman in his direction. 

"Hey guys, we got company," he told the others as he adjusted his white beard and red hat. When he waved toward the child, she squealed in delight, and Bradley couldn't help but laugh. As she and the woman he assumed was her mom approached the fence, Bradley leaned on the top of it. 

"Ho, Ho, Ho! What's your name, Kiddo?" he asked her with a bright smile. But his gaze inadvertently shifted to how gorgeous you looked as you held her hand, and he gave you a wink. He wouldn't mind learning your name, too.

But the little girl was eyeing him skeptically. "Shouldn't you already know my name? My mom said I'm on the nice list!" she exclaimed, gesturing up toward you.

Oh. Shit. "Uh, well, you see..."

Luckily you bailed him out with an apologetic look. "Ellie, don't be rude to Santa. He probably didn't update our names to our new address yet."

"Oh. Yeah," Bradley said, nodding in agreement and smiling. "Of course now I recognize you, Ellie. And your mom, too. Rest assured, you're both on the nice list."

But the girl wasn't convinced. "Why aren't you fatter?"

You brought your hand up to cover your face and groaned as Bradley laughed. "I needed to be able to fit in my jet."

"Why do you have a jet? Where's your sleigh?"

Bradley jerked his thumb toward the others milling around behind him. "My elves and I are trying out our jets this year. Something new."

"What about your reindeer?" she asked, undeterred. You were looking at Bradley and half smiling, half grimacing as you mouthed I'm sorry. But he didn't mind at all. Ellie was keeping him on his toes. 

"Uh... they have the year off, per their union contracts. You certainly have a lot of questions, Ellie."

She nodded up at him with her hands on her hips. "I just want to make sure you're the real Santa. I've seen a lot of impostors at the mall."

Bradley had to stifle his laughter as you said, "I had no idea she was going to be like this. I'm so sorry, Santa."

"It's fine," he reassured you, noting that you weren't wearing any rings before he returned his attention to your daughter. "Okay, Ellie. What's it going to take for you to believe I'm really Santa?"

Her brow scrunched as she contemplated his question, and Bradley used the time to check you out. It was useless, he knew that, since he looked like an idiot in his fake beard at the moment. But damn, you were pretty. And your daughter was like a tiny, inquisitive version of you.

"Well," Ellie said with a little smirk, "you should know how old I am if you're the real Santa."

You quickly held your hand up over her head to help him out, and he counted your fingers. "Of course I know that you're five years old."

Ellie's eyes softened a bit as she said, "That's right! And what's my favorite color?"

This time you juggled the items you were holding and lifted up a set of noise canceling headphones. "That's easy," Bradley replied. "I know you love pink." 

Now Ellie was smiling up at Bradley as she said, "And if you still need to update our new address, then you must know where we moved here from."

Bradley glanced up to see you pretending to shiver and rub your hands along your arms. "You moved here from somewhere cold."

"That's right!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "It's you! You're Santa!"

"It's really me," Bradley said, sending her a wink and nodding at you as you bit your lip and grinned. "And don't you worry, I'll have my elves take care of getting your new address straightened out. But first, I need you to prove that you're the real Ellie."

She nodded in excitement. "Ask me anything!"

"What grade are you in?"

"Kindergarten," she said, eyes filled with joy.

"Yep, that's right. Only the real Ellie would know that." You were laughing now, and Bradley loved the way it sounded. "And what's your favorite animal?"

"Pandas!" 

"Mmhmm," he hummed, pretending he was impressed that she was passing this quiz with flying colors. "I'm almost convinced it's really you."

"Seriously," she told him. "Ask me anything, because I'm sure I'm not an impostor."

Bradley glanced up at you and smirked before leaning on the fence again, and then asked Ellie, "Tell me, Kiddo. What's your mom's name?"

She blurted it out immediately, and Bradley committed it to memory. When he looked up at you again, your gaze was focused on the ground, but you looked pleased if not a little sad. He wanted to know why. 

"Would the two of you like to come in here and look at the North Pole jets?" he asked, and Ellie started bouncing up and down immediately. 

"We don't want to waste any more of your time, Santa," you told him with an apologetic look. 

"You wouldn't be," he promised, and when he said your name, you smiled and looked off to the side like you were embarrassed. "Come around the fence. You can meet my elves." He pointed to the gate a ways down where a security guard was standing. Bradley waved to him and gave him a thumbs up which the guard returned. "Santa gets special privileges."

"Fine," you said softly. "We'll just come around and meet you then?"

"Looking forward to it," he replied, and then Ellie was taking off for the fence opening with you right behind her. Bradley turned toward the others and clapped his hands. "Listen up. This little girl, Ellie, thinks I'm really Santa," he informed them. "And she thinks you're all my elves."

"Fuck," Jake groaned. 

"I'm really hungry," Bob whispered. 

"I refuse to be nice to you, even in front of a child," Nat said blandly.

"Whatever," Reuben and Javy said in unison.

"I'm so excited!" Mickey giggled, adjusting his elf ears. 

"Just be nice, okay? Here she comes... with her mom," Bradley said, really enjoying the sight of you headed his way. He cleared his throat and knelt down as Ellie streaked toward him. 

"Can I sit in one of the North Pole jets?" Ellie asked while you shook your head apologetically. 

"Really, feel free to tell her no."

But Bradley just smiled and adjusted his white beard before he scooped the child up and stood. You looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and intrigue as he said, "Sure, Kiddo, if you think you can climb that ladder? It's really tall."

"Yeah, I can do it!" Ellie said, looking past him at his F/A-18 and clapping.

"Sound okay, Mom?" he asked you, and you bit your lip and smiled. 

"Great. While Ellie and I are up there talking about what's on her Christmas list, why don't you give your information to my sweetest and most loyal elf, Phoenix."

Nat rolled her eyes at him so hard before she turned to you with a smile, and Bradley had to walk away before he started laughing too hard to stay in character. 

"Your elf is named Phoenix?" Ellie asked as he carried her toward the ladder. "What are the other ones named?"

Bradley chuckled. "They're all pretty silly sounding," he said as he set her down a few rungs from the bottom. "The big one is Payback. The one who can't stop smiling is Fanboy. The one that's yawning is Coyote. Bob is the one with glasses. And the cranky one is Hangman."

"He looks like he could use a candy cane," she said as she started to climb. 

"I think you're probably right. I should feed all of them more sweets." 

Once they reached the top, he hoisted her over the edge and climbed onto the seat behind her. "Do you want to talk about what's on your Christmas list?"

"Yeah," she said with a sigh as she plopped down on his knee and looked at him with concern. "We didn't bring most of our decorations and stuff when we moved, because there were already too many boxes."

"Oh," Bradley grunted, patting her on the shoulder. Now he was even more curious than before about where the two of you had moved from and why as his gaze met yours where you stood below with Phoenix. "Well you'll need a Christmas tree for your presents to go under."

She nodded and finally smiled when Bradley looked at her again. "The only thing I really want is a pink one!"

He blinked at her a few times. "A pink tree?"

"Yeah!  A pink Christmas tree! And an art set with pink paint."

Bradley nodded, figuring he could probably make that happen. "Sounds monochromatic but fun. Anything else?"

Ellie looked down at you and waved. Your brilliant smile for your daughter was so lovely, Bradley found himself waving too, which made you laugh. "Nothing else for me," Ellie whispered. "But something for my mom."

"Oh yeah?" he grunted when you blew a kiss up to them. Damn. He knew it was for your daughter, but he kind of wanted one of his own. "What do you think Santa should bring for your mom?"

"A boyfriend."

His gaze jerked back to Ellie's, but she looked completely serious. "You want me to get your mom a boyfriend?"

She nodded and said, "One that's tall and will play dolls with me sometimes and eat dinner at our new house. And he has to be really nice. Just like my dad was."

Bradley leaned in a little closer and wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders. "What happened to your dad?"

"He died last year," she said matter-of-factly. "But I'm sure you knew him, because he was definitely on the nice list."s

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You watched as your daughter gave the naval aviator she was convinced was Santa Claus a big hug. He actually looked a bit ridiculous in the bright red flight suit and hat with the white beard, but Ellie seemed to have bonded with him in some way. They were laughing together about something she whispered to him, and then he was patting her head. 

"I'll see what I can do for you, okay Ellie?" he told her, and you wondered if his voice really was that deep all the time. 

"Thanks, Santa!" She came trotting over to you and took you by the hand. "I'm ready to go home now," she told you with a smile as the 'elves' waved goodbye. A startled laugh escaped you, because the entire afternoon felt very surreal. You just gave your phone number and your new address to someone named Phoenix who was dressed as an elf even though she was definitely also a naval pilot. And now you were waving to Santa Claus who you were left to assume was named Bradley Bradshaw based on what was painted on the side of his jet. 

"Did you have a fun time with Santa?" you asked as you walked back toward the opening in the gate, chuckling at your own words. 

"Yeah. He's really nice. I could have probably stayed and talked to him all night," she replied, and when you turned back he was still looking at you. The casual wave of his hand made your heart skip a beat. You really wanted this again. That familiarity with another person. The ease. The perpetually happy child next to you.

"Yeah... he seems pretty great."

But you were really annoyed with yourself when you spent nearly a full hour after you got Ellie in bed imagining what his face might look like without the fake beard. It had barely been three months since you stopped wearing your wedding rings. It was just over a year ago that your husband died unexpectedly. You were decidedly not in the market for dating anyone while Ellie was this young, because she deserved all of your attention. So why were you thinking about this Bradley guy and how sweet he was with your daughter?

You collapsed onto your bed and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. You didn't do the wordle yet for today, and you still needed to check the weather for tomorrow. But you got distracted by a text from a number you didn't recognize. 

Hey, it's Bradley Bradshaw. I mean Santa. I hope you don't mind me texting you.

You sat up in your bed so quickly. Your stomach lurched as butterflies took up residence, and your fingers quivered a little bit as you gripped your phone. What were you supposed to do? "Text him back," you muttered to yourself. "Get a grip." 

You looked across the room at your wedding photo on your dresser. It had been in one of the few moving boxes you managed to unpack already, and it made you smile every time you looked at it. Right now was no exception; that was one of the best days of your life. But when you looked back down at your phone, you didn't feel a pang of sadness or regret. You felt intrigued. So you saved Bradley's number and then texted him back.

I don't mind one bit. I'm happy to have the chance to thank you again for earlier. You made Ellie's day! Mine, too!

And then you waited with your phone in your hand, half embarrassed and half excited by the idea of getting another text from him.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Your daughter is a bit of a spitfire. I was very entertained by her. And there's no need to thank me. It was the highlight of my day.

Dealing with your sassy five year old was the highlight of his day? You squealed and had to set your phone down while you walked around your room for a few minutes. The highlight of his day? He was a fighter pilot! He flew a jet around at the air show!

"Oh god," you groaned, crawling back across your bed to your phone. You were already a lost cause. Over a man who had been dressed as Santa Claus? Ridiculous.

But now you were scrambling over what to type back to him. Send him a Santa emoji? No. You were flustered as you sent him the first random thing that came to your mind.

You make a great Santa. You know, in case you ever contemplate a career change.

You looked at the words on your phone screen and cringed. You glanced back at your wedding photo and sighed. If that was your best attempt at flirting, then it was amazing you'd ever been married at all. And this man you met today didn't even seem bothered that you had a kid. That was a miracle in itself. You got ready to toss your phone aside for the night when he sent back a smiling emoji and another text.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I'll keep that in mind as a potential retirement gig. 

You wanted to tell him he looked pretty good in a fake beard. You wanted to tell him you were curious what he looked like without it. You wanted to keep him talking a little bit longer, because you could feel the adrenaline fueled blood pumping through your body, and it felt exciting. But before you could even say anything else, Bradley had you burying your face in your pillow so you could scream without waking Ellie up.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: But here's the thing. I'm an absolute sucker for cute girls. When can I see the two of you again?

------------------------

Bradley had to wait a little bit for a response from you, and he was sweating. He didn't want to push too hard, especially after Ellie told him her dad died, but he was intrigued. Plus, he was already googling pink Christmas trees. 

Ellie's Mom: Ellie and I are kind of suckers for sweet Santas. What did you have in mind?

He lounged back in his bed with a smile on his face. Was he about to drop five hundred bucks on an eight foot tall pink tree? Hell yes. Especially since you just called him sweet. 

Ellie asked Santa for a pink Christmas tree. I want to order it tonight if you can confirm it will fit in your house. And then I'd love to come by and set it up one day.

You wrote back almost immediately after he sent the link to the tree. 

Ellie's Mom: You don't have to buy that for her! It's so expensive! Honestly, you don't need to buy her anything!

Bradley sighed. The kid thought he was really Santa Claus, so there was no way she wasn't getting a pink tree and a pink art kit. It was the boyfriend request that made him chuckle, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in the idea of seeing you again. 

But I want to. Any chance you can measure the space for me?

He had to wait a little bit longer again for you to answer, but this time he was rewarded with photos that had him sitting up in bed and staring at his phone. 

Ellie's Mom: I can't find a measuring tape in all these moving boxes, but here's the spot where a tree could go. And here I am for reference.

You were smiling in the selfies, looking a little shy but just as pretty as earlier today, and you had on a shirt that looked so soft, he wanted to touch it. "God damn it," he grunted, already tapping out a response. 

I think Santa should stop by in person and check the measurements, just to be on the safe side. Also, you're gorgeous.

"Oh fuck," groaned after he hit send. He really didn't mean to come on so strong, especially since he just met you. He busied himself with ordering the pink tree that he was sure would fit in that spot along with some colorful ornaments and tried not to count the minutes until you wrote back.

Ellie's Mom: We'll be home on Monday evening. I'm sure Ellie would love another visit from Santa. And so would I.

Bradley wrote back letting you know roughly what time he could stop by, and then he started to formulate a plan. 

On Monday, in the locker room after work, he changed out of his regular flight suit and showered before zipping himself into his bright red one. His measuring tape, beard and Santa hat were already waiting in the Bronco, and he swung by his favorite bakeshop on his way out of Coronado. The place was packed with customers placing orders for Christmas goodies, so he was happy he decided to call ahead. He grabbed the box he already paid for and got back on the road, following his GPS across the city to the outskirts of town.

Your place was a cute town home with a pink Christmas wreath on the door and the windows lit with a warm glow as the sun set. Bradley got his Santa beard and hat situated using his rearview mirror, and then he grabbed the box and the measuring tape and made his way up to the front porch. As soon as he knocked, his heart beat a little faster, and a few seconds later, you were opening the door for him with a smile. 

"Hey, Santa," you said softly with a crooked little smile. Bradley took you in from head to toe, his eyes catching on your lips and your pink sweater as he heard Ellie come bounding down the stairs. 

"Santa!"

He looked past you just in time to see your daughter come streaking toward him wearing a pink dress and launching herself into his arms. He bent and caught her a little awkwardly as he laughed. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she hugged him. 

"Came to make sure you're still on the good list." Bradley grinned up at you where you stood biting your lip. "Well, Mom? Has she been listening and behaving?"

You nodded. "Yes, Santa. She's been very well behaved."

"Excellent," he replied, releasing Ellie and handing her the box which she opened right away.

She gasped and looked up at him. "Pink Christmas cookies?"

"Yeah, I just thought the two of you might like something sweet."

You were looking at him with softly parted lips, and then you said, "Aren't we supposed to be leaving cookies out for you later this month?"

"I wouldn't complain if you did," he replied as Ellie handed you a pink snowflake cookie. He watched you bite into it, and he realized he was staring. 

"Want one?" Ellie asked, tugging on his hand. 

"No, those are for the two of you, Kiddo. I'm really here to measure the room for your pink tree. I want to drop it off before Christmas so there's something for your presents to go under."

Ellie screeched and nearly dropped the cookies all over the floor as you took the box from her. She pulled Bradley into the living room and showed him where she wanted her tree to go, and then she helped him measure the space while she asked him what he wanted for Christmas.

"Does Mrs. Claus get you something every year?" she asked, eyes wide and focused on him. 

He wasn't sure how to answer her as he knelt on the floor with the measuring tape in his hand. So he decided to just be honest. "I actually don't have a Mrs. Claus yet."

When Ellie's eyes drifted from him up to you where you stood a few feet away, Bradley couldn't help but follow suit. "Mommy," she whispered. "We need to get something for Santa."

"Okay," you whispered back, barely glancing at Bradley before looking back at your daughter. "We can do that."

Ellie turned back to him and asked, "If I leave a present under the tree on Christmas Eve, will you know it's for you when you get here?"

"Of course. Just write my name on it so I know it's mine." Then she kissed him on his cheek right above his white beard, and Bradley melted a little bit inside. 

--------------------------

You and your daughter waved from your front door as Santa left with his tape measure and one of the pink cookies. Ellie insisted he take the one that was decorated like a reindeer with him, and you watched as he ate it while he started up his vintage blue Bronco. When he honked and waved goodbye, Ellie jumped up and down. 

"Santa's bringing me a pink tree!" she gushed, and honestly, you were feeling a little silly over that man, too. Your skin tingled as you closed the door and looked at the rest of the cookies. You felt like he was spoiling the two of you even though you barely knew him. 

"Let's go get ready for bed," you whispered, ushering her toward the stairs before you took the cookies to your kitchen to have a moment to yourself. Last Christmas had been a nightmare as it was just a few weeks after you lost your husband, and now you'd moved to San Diego to have a fresh start with a new job and a new school and a new city. You couldn't handle another holiday in the house that the three of you had shared. 

California was warm and welcoming, but the last thing you had expected to find here right away was a man that made your heart skip a beat. You knew your husband wouldn't want you to give up the idea of dating someone else, but you'd convinced yourself that nobody would want the two of you even though Ellie was a sweet kid. 

You set the pretty cookies down on the counter and sighed. Bradley didn't seem to mind that Ellie was around. If anything, he seemed to really like her. He was buying her a tree even though you told him he didn't have to do that. You were more than capable of getting one, but he wasn't going to be deterred. 

And Ellie definitely liked him, helped in part by the fact that she seemed completely convinced he was actually Santa. 

"You don't even really know what his face looks like," you groaned as you closed the box and headed upstairs. It didn't even matter though, because you could still tell he was handsome with the kind of brown eyes you just wanted to keep looking at. But how embarrassing were you? Crushing on him like this.

After you got Ellie in bed, you texted Bradley to say thank you, and he wrote back immediately. 

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: It was my pleasure.

You imagined him saying those words in his deep voice in person, and you were still thinking about him the next morning when you woke up. You picked up your framed wedding photo and sighed in exasperation. "He reminds me a bit of you, honestly," you told your deceased husband who smiled back from the frame. "He's funny and kind of sweet. Maybe I just miss you. I don't know."

But you found yourself unable to get much work done from your home office while Ellie was at school. You kept sneaking down to the kitchen to get pink cookies, and by late afternoon, you caved like a house of cards and texted Bradley.

I can't stop thinking about what you might look like without your Santa beard and hat.

You set your phone down on your desk and stared at it. What were you, fucking insane or something? You must be. After twenty minutes with no response, you grabbed a sweatshirt and went for a walk around the block without your phone. You had forgotten how to flirt. That had to be what was going on here. You no longer knew how to be normal or subtle in any way, because it had been so long since you needed to be. When you moved to San Diego to start over again, you must have forgotten to pack your ability to act chill in front of men you were attracted to. 

You stood on your front porch and took a deep breath before heading back inside. You needed to stop this. After Bradley came back with the pink tree for Ellie, he wasn't going to want to keep hanging out anyway. It was better to just stop this thing in its tracks right now. You ran back upstairs to your desk and grabbed your phone. He probably hadn't responded yet, which was great, because you could text him again and tell him you were just joking.

"Haha," you muttered as you sat down. "Just kidding, Santa."

But he had already replied. Oh. And he sent a selfie. Oh my. "Oh my god." He was even hotter than you imagined. He had a mustache. A real one, not the white one. He wasn't wearing the red hat either, and as a result, you got to see how soft his light brown curls looked. And he was smiling, his lips and his eyes already familiar to you. Then you made a small, strangled sound as you read the accompanying text.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Greetings from North Island... I mean, the North Pole. And by the way, I can't stop thinking about you either.

You literally melted out of your chair and onto the spare bedroom floor. You thought about reaching for your computer to put up your out of office message, but you couldn't stop looking at the photo long enough to focus on anything else. You were laying on your back looking at your phone, and you nearly dropped it on your face when he wrote back again.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: The tree should arrive on Thursday. I was thinking I could take a half day at work and come over to set it up on Friday afternoon while Ellie is at school? Then I could see you again, too...

You rolled onto your front and started typing. Of course you wanted him to come back on Friday. You hit send before you realized that you'd be here alone with him. You'd have no five year old to buffer yourself from almost certain embarrassment.

-------------------------

Everyone else was picking out poinsettias or red and green blooms, but when Bradley got to the florist, he asked for a big bouquet of pink flowers as well as a smaller one. Just pink flowers. Nothing else. He paid and left with both of them in one hand and ran back across the street to his Bronco. 

He was running late. He told you he'd be there around one o'clock, but it was already half past. Of course he needed to shower before he left work at noon, since he smelled like jet fuel, and then he had to stop back at home and load the tree and everything else into the Bronco before he could head to your place. 

The last thing he wanted was for you to think he didn't want to spend as much time with you and Ellie as possible right now. Frankly he was looking forward to spending a little time alone with you, even if it was just while he was putting the tree up. When he finally made it across town, he checked the time and winced before running up the sidewalk and knocking. And if he was already a little bit out of breath, it only got worse when you opened the door and smiled at him. 

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I realized on my way here that I must have been overzealous when I told you I would be here by one."

You grinned and shrugged. "It's okay. Come on in." You closed the door behind him and asked, "Are those for Ellie?" You were gesturing at the flowers he forgot he was holding. 

"Oh," he said, pulling the bouquets apart. "One's for you." Your eyes went wide as he held the bigger bunch out, and your fingers brushed his when you took it. "The little one's for Ellie."

You were looking up at him in surprise and your voice was soft as you said, "Thank you." 

"Yeah, well, I didn't know what your favorite color was, so I went all in on the pink."

You were grinning again as you buried your nose in one of the fuchsia colored roses. "It's pink. Good job, Santa."

Bradley laughed. "I should have known. The two of you have me seeing pink everywhere now."

"I'm not sorry about that," you said, reaching for the other bouquet. "I'll put these in the kitchen."

He handed it over and said, "And I'll bring the tree inside." He watched you turn away from him, and he kept his eyes on you until you were almost out of sight which resulted in you turning around and catching him staring. He didn't mind. 

Bradley made two trips inside with the tree and all of the lights and ornaments, but you must have still been in the kitchen. Or maybe you went upstairs or something. He'd been hoping you wanted to hang out a little bit and chat, but he already had the enormous tree box open with pink branches spilling out of it when you returned with two mugs. 

"I made you some hot chocolate." 

Nobody had made him a mug of hot chocolate since he was a kid himself. "You did?"

"Yeah. But if you don't want it, that's fine." You looked a little shy now, so he stood and reached for the pink mug you were offering to him. 

"I love hot chocolate. I just don't drink it much now that I live where it's usually warm."

"Where are you from?" you asked before you pursed your pretty lips and blew on your drink.

Bradley smirked. "Would I be remiss if I told you I'm actually from Virginia and not the North Pole?"

Your bright laughter had him taking a step closer to you. "Not at all. Just don't tell Ellie that. She's already working on a Christmas present for you. I mean for Santa."

"Is she really?" he asked, suddenly unable to stop smiling. When you nodded, he asked, "What is it?

"I can't tell you! That would ruin the surprise."

"Yeah... don't tell me. I wouldn't want to disappoint her." Bradley took a sip before setting his mug down on a coaster and kneeling in front of the tree box. 

You cleared your throat as he started pulling branches out. "How long have you been living in San Diego?"

"About six years. I finally got a permanent station at North Island after moving around. A lot." He lined all of the pieces up on the floor as you took a few steps closer. 

"How old are you?" you asked him. When he glanced up, you added, "If you don't mind me asking."

He smiled. "I don't mind you asking me anything you want to ask me. I'm thirty seven."

"How are you possibly single?" you blurted out before hiding your mug in front of your mouth. "I'm sorry." You paced back and forth across the living room a few times as you said, "I'm so bad at this. Like epically bad at it. Because I haven't had to do it in so long."

"Do what?" he asked, trying not to laugh as you came to a stop right in front of him. 

You made a cute little sound before you whispered, "I have forgotten how to even attempt to flirt with a man."

He had to press his lips together to hold his laughter in. You were actually serious right now. "I thought you were doing alright."

"You did?" you asked, gaping up at him. 

"Yeah. I mean, you sent me those cute selfies when you didn't have a measuring tape."

You licked your lips and took a step away from him. "No one has called me cute since my husband died."

Bradley could feel his lungs deflating. He hated that you had to live through that. He was also selfishly a little afraid you were going to tell him you weren't looking to date again. This was really the only reason he hadn't asked you out already. Well, that and the fact that your daughter was currently convinced he was Santa Claus. 

But he thought he should try his luck. "Someone should be calling you cute every day. You and Ellie both. Like I said, I'm a complete sucker for cute girls."

You looked a little flustered now as you sipped your hot chocolate, so Bradley returned to his mission of putting the massive tree together in the corner of your living room. When he paused to drink from his own mug, you came over to help him. Wordlessly, the two of you assembled it until it was too tall for you to reach. 

When you handed the top part of the tree to him, he whispered, "Thanks." Your hand seemed to linger on his. Or maybe he imagined it. 

"It's nice having someone so tall around," you said. "You must have no problems putting your own tree up."

"Nah," he said, sliding the last piece into place. "I don't even put one up at home. Seems like a waste when it's just for me."

"You don't have a tree?" you asked, and your hand came to rest on his forearm. Bradley's eyes snapped to yours as you said, "If you can continue to handle all the pink... maybe you'd want to come back over and enjoy this one with us?"

"As Santa?" he asked. "I really got myself into a mess with Ellie, didn't I?"

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. "Yeah... she's kind of attached to Santa now."

Bradley was fighting the urge to just kiss you, because you were right there. And you probably tasted like hot chocolate. And the closer you got, the prettier you looked. 

"Should we add the lights?" you asked softly, your hand still on his left arm. "Before Ellie gets home?"

Very slowly, he raised his right hand so there would be no doubt in your mind what was coming. He traced your cheek with his fingertips as your eyes fluttered closed. "Yeah. Let's do the lights and the decorations before she gets back. I didn't bring my beard and my hat today."

"Okay," you breathed, leaning into his touch for a beat before you released his arm and pulled away. "I'll... get the lights ready." You turned and started to open some of the boxes of white twinkle lights while Bradley got the ornaments opened up.

He took out the pink and silver star, and when he reached up toward the top branches, you wrapped the lights around him and the tree at the same time. "If you want to keep me here with you, just say so. You don't need to tie me up."

You laughed. "I couldn't keep you even if I wanted to. You're Santa Claus, remember? You have a million toys to deliver next week."

Bradley caught you gently by the arm as you looped the lights around his back again. "To be crystal clear, I'm only doing this for you and Ellie. Nobody else."

You wrapped the lights a little tighter and said, "To be crystal clear, I like the way that sounds."

Bradley smirked as you finally loosened the strand and freed him. "Listen," he said as he followed you slowly around the tree as you put the lights on correctly this time. "Santa doesn't have time to play games before Christmas. He's very busy."

"Really?" you asked, looking back at him as you strung the lights higher and higher on the pink tree. "This kind of feels like a game to me, Santa."

He took over with the strand once it got too high for you to reach, and when he was done, he watched you pick up one of the boxes of ornaments. There were a bunch of pink and blue hearts and stars, and you smiled up at him. So he decided to go for it. Because he knew this was a rare opportunity he'd been given. "Santa is actually pretty serious right now. About you."

When you immediately returned your gaze to the box in your hands, Bradley ran his hands through his hair. You looked a little flustered again, just like you had when you claimed you forgot how to flirt. Whatever you were doing to him, he liked it. He liked how it felt to be around you and Ellie, too. He ducked behind the tree to plug the lights in, illuminating everything in a soft, pink glow, and then he tried to find the energy to help you finish the tree without pushing this any further.

"Hey, Santa?"

"Yeah?" he replied, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached for an ornament from the box you were holding. 

You seemed to weigh your words before you said them which had Bradley's heart beating a little faster before you even spoke. "I wasn't planning on anything serious. Not really ever again."

"Oh." Serious was the kind of thing he was looking for now. Serious was actually what he wanted. He hung the pretty blue heart shaped ornament and then let his hand fall to his side. His heart felt heavy like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake as you reached up in front of his face to hang a pink and white heart next to his blue one.

"At least that's what I thought before we moved here," you added.

He looked at you with one raised eyebrow. "Something changed your mind?"

"More like someone," you whispered, handing him another pink heart ornament which he carefully hung just above the other two. He wanted to know for sure if he was the one that changed your mind, but you pulled your phone out of your pocket and gasped. 

"Ellie's bus should be here in a couple minutes."

"Right," he said softly. You and he finished decorating the tree, not so subtly stealing glances at each other the whole time. If there was even a chance with you, he wanted to take it, but he didn't want to press any harder today. 

When he reached for his empty mug, you shook your head and said, "You can leave it. I'll clean up later."

"Okay." With nothing else keeping him at your house he started to head for the front door, but you caught his hand in yours. 

"Wait." Your eyes were wide and a little hesitant, but when you tugged gently, he went willingly, slowly closing the distance between you body and his. "Thank you. For the tree and the ornaments. And the cookies. And the flowers."

He shook his head. "It's my pleasure. You don't have to thank me again."

"But I want to," you whispered, running your thumb along the back of his hand. "I want to do a lot of things. But they feel a little scary." When you paused, he didn't rush you. Your eyes were taking in every detail of his face, and you were smiling softly. "Things I haven't done in a long time. Things I never anticipated I'd be doing again. At least not while Ellie is so young."

Bradley opened his mouth, intending to tell you he could wait a few weeks or months to ask you out if that would make things easier for you, but you tugged gently on his hand again, rendering him silent. When your other hand came to rest on his chest, he held his breath. Your gaze stayed locked on your hand as you slowly guided it up along his shoulder and collarbone until it came to rest gently on the scars on the side of his neck. 

The soft stroke of your thumb and even the gentle flex of your fingers could have brought him to his knees. And then you finally met his eyes. "I really want to," you murmured as you stood on tiptoes, your chest brushing his. Bradley's brain took a beat longer to respond than his heart did, but when you tilted your face up to his and let your eyes flutter shut, he closed the distance to your lips with his. 

And it was perfect. The softest kiss of his life, but he could feel his entire body responding to you. With a soft gasp, you released his lips, but you didn't go far. When you met his eyes, you must have liked what you saw there, because you kissed him again. And again. And when Bradley guided your other hand around his neck, you kissed him a little deeper. 

"Oh," you gasped, running your nose along his cheek as your fingers teased the back of his neck. When your lips met his again, he held you close with his hands on your lower back, and Bradley decided he could do this forever. All of it. The pink flowers and decorating the tree and the perfect kisses. 

Then the front door knob rattled, and you broke away from his lips. Your eyes looked hazy at first, and you had the prettiest smile on your face before you pulled yourself out of his grasp as Ellie came inside. Your daughter looked back and forth between the two of you as you pressed your fingertips to your lips, and Bradley winced as Ellie asked him, "Who are you?"

-----------------------------

Bradley! I mean, Santa! Where is your beard?! I hope you loved part one! Part two is coming soon. This one took a village so thank you to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @cherrycola27

PART 2

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[beyondthesefourwalls]

Something Worth Remembering

Summary: You were hopeful that you’d be moved into your new house before Christmas, but after another renovation delay, that’s not in the cards. To your credit, you make the most of the situation, and Bradley falls in love with you even more because of it. But he’s determined to make your first Christmas together special, and sets out to plan a surprise that ensures the holiday will be one both of you will always remember. 

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)  

(can be read as Forgetful Boy and Pumpkin from RYEWID, but not necessary to read that first)

Word Count: 3.7K 

Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Language. Allusions to smut. 

Notes: Some holiday action for my faves. Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "home for the holidays”. Also as part of The Forgotten Moments Collection, but can very much be read by itself. 

—---

____

Bradley stopped short when he walked through the front door, eyes widening as he took in the scene in front of him. 

“Um…Pumpkin?” 

“You’re home!” 

You popped up so suddenly from the other side of the counter in the kitchen that he jumped slightly in surprise. “Am I?” he asked slowly, closing the door behind him and bending down to unlace and take off his boots. You laughed brightly as you stepped around some of the shopping bags on the floor to get to him. He accepted the kiss from you eagerly, feeling the stress from another work day dissipate as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“Contractors called,” you told him once you pulled back, resting a hand on his chest. Your ring sparkled in the light streaming in through the open curtains, and Bradley couldn’t help but smile before he registered the words. “There’s a delay with the electrician and the flooring.” 

Bradley groaned, the familiar annoyance of hearing the word “delay” coursing through him. The home the two of you had purchased was a fixer upper, tucked into the end of a cul de sac in a neighborhood not too far from base. There was work that needed to be done to make it everything you wanted, but neither of you had anticipated all the headaches that would come along with that. It would be a long project, you knew, but the contractor you had hired had promised it would at least be livable within the first few weeks. 

That had been nearly two months ago now, and the delays kept piling up. Barely anything had been done at this point, and he knew he’d have to call the administrative office tomorrow to extend the lease on the on-base apartment, again. 

“Of course there is.” 

You smiled gently, and Bradley couldn’t help but let some of the annoyance slip away at the soft look on your face. He took a deep breath and let himself relax, pressing a kiss to your forehead before releasing you. He gestured to the tiny apartment the Navy had provided you with, smaller than the shoebox you had called home back in DC, that definitely did not look like what it did when he left for work this morning. 

“Is that why it suddenly looks like Christmas threw up in here?” 

You threw your head back as you giggled. The sound caused a full blown smile to cross Bradley’s face, warming him from the inside out.

“I was holding out hope that we would be able to spend Christmas in our new house, even if it’s not finished. But since the electrician’s are delayed, the floor people can’t come until the 28th. So I decided to finally cave and decorate here instead. But I didn’t want to spend a bunch of money on nice decorations, because I want to save that for when we’re completely moved in next year.” 

“So…” 

“So I may or may not have bought out a good portion of the Dollar Tree Christmas aisle, and spent way too long deciding on white lights or multicolored lights for the $20 table top tree that I bought.” 

Bradley laughed loudly, looking around your temporary home once again. Red and green and gold covered the minimal available surfaces, and a small lopsided tree sat on the corner table in the living room, a bag of what he assumed to be decorations sitting beside it. Your cat, Florry, was curled up on top of a pile of bright green garland on the floor. 

"Who needs a fancy new house when we can have our own little tacky winter wonderland right here?"

Your eyes sparkled with delight as you spoke, clearly thrilled by the idea, or at least incredibly amused by it. Bradley knew that Christmas was your favorite holiday, and how much you loved the festive season. This would be the first one you ever spent together. When you had toured the house months ago, you had pointed out the perfect place for a tree and where certain decorations could go. You had been so excited to spend the holiday in your new home. As the delays started coming in you had adjusted just how grandiose your plans would be, but you had taken it in stride. Now you were only six days out from Christmas itself and you were once again just making the best of the situation that neither of you could control. 

Not for the first time, he wondered how he had gotten so lucky. 

"Alright, Pumpkin," he said, "Let me go change, and then I’ll help you make this the tackiest, most magical Christmas ever."

You grinned at him, a mischievous spark in your eyes. "Challenge accepted."

_____

The Dagger Squad had an impromptu and unofficial holiday party the next night at the Hard Deck, and it still blew Bradley away seeing you intermixed so perfectly with his friends, both old and new. You floated from conversation to conversation and when he wasn’t by your side, he watched you with a smile on his face. He knew you were perfect for him, but seeing you fitting in like this just reaffirmed it. 

“How’s the house coming along?” 

He looked over at Mav as he leant against the bar beside him, handing him a fresh beer. He was still getting used to being around his godfather after all this time, but they had settled into a peaceful kind of hesitancy as they relearned what it meant to be in the other’s life, and it was nice, even if Bradley had to remind himself to breathe sometimes. 

“Slowly.” 

His tone must have relayed how he was feeling because Mav shot him a sympathetic wince. “Another delay?” 

“Yup.” Bradley let out a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “They can’t get the electricians in until tomorrow, which is when the flooring was supposed to go in. So now that got pushed to after Christmas” 

Mav clasped a hand on Bradley's shoulder, offering a supportive squeeze. "It'll all come together eventually. How’s she taking it?” 

He snorted as he brought the drink to his lips, taking another sip. “She handles stress and shit like this better than anyone I know.” 

Mav smiled, nodding in what looked like approval. “You got yourself a good one.” 

Bradley hummed his agreement and let his eyes stray to you, chuckling softly when he saw you dancing with Nat. Sometime in the last few minutes, you had stolen the Santa hat that Coyote had arrived with, the red and white material perched on your head. You twirled around with his best friend to the Christmas song playing over the jukebox, laughing merrily. You really did love this time of year. 

You had told him that you didn’t care where you spent the holiday, so long as you were together. It was your first Christmas together, after all. But Bradley still felt guilty over not being able to get you into the house sooner. You had only been married for a few months, and you had given up your whole entire life to move out to California when he got permanently assigned here. It’s a decision you would make again and again, he knew, but he still wished there was something he could do, too. You had made far more sacrifices than he had. He wanted this holiday to be special. Memorable. 

You were just a little bit tipsy when you got back to the apartment that night. You had clung to Bradley’s arm with both of yours the whole way up to the third floor from the parking lot, but the moment you walk through the door, you’re releasing him to go plug in the tiny table top tree. You plug in the string lights lining the kitchen counters next, humming a christmas song he can’t quite place under your breath as you do. You turned to him once the space was illuminated, the soft golden glow highlighting your smile. 

“Pretty nice, huh? These cheap decorations aren’t so bad - I may just keep them for the new house, too.” 

Your ability to make the most of everything made his heart stutter. He was in front of you in only three quick strides, one hand landing on your hip while the other cupped your face. He bent to connect your lips in a kiss. He could still taste the peppermint from the candy cane you sucked on on the ride home, and the taste of the champagne Penny had broken out at the end of the night for a toast. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and return the kiss, both of you getting so lost in it that by the time he pulled away, he was panting.

“You must really like the cheap decor,” you breathed, and Bradley huffed out a laugh at your joke. 

“I just really like you,” he quipped, and he enjoyed how a shiver went through your body at his response. 

As you changed into pajamas and settled on the couch together, an idea started forming in his head. He thought he might know just what to do to make this holiday memorable for you after all. 

_____

“Are you sure you don’t mind me running out for a bit?” you asked for what was probably the tenth time as you slid your sweater on over your head. Bradley groaned to himself as your body was covered from his view as he lounged in bed. He had been watching you get ready, enjoying not for the first time how getting dressed was almost always the last step in your process. 

“I’m positive,” he said, also for the tenth time. You gave him a dubious look and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Pumpkin, I promise it’s okay.” 

“I know, but it’s our first Christmas Eve together!” 

Bradley moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his arms open. You stepped between his spread legs and let your hands rest on his shoulders as he looked up at you, squeezing your sides through your red sweater. “Technically, it’s Christmas Eve morning. And I think you getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife will be nice for you. You’ve been so busy with work and the move that you haven’t really had time to make friends.” 

“I was already friends with Nat.” 

He rolled his eyes at you fondly. “You know what I mean.” 

You sighed again, fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head in the way that always calmed him down, even when he wasn’t feeling stressed out. He thought maybe the motion soothed you, too. “I think it’ll be fun.” 

“Yeah,” you admitted slowly, nodding hesitantly. “I do too.” 

“Then go. Have fun. I’ll be here when you get back, and we’ll spend Christmas Eve together. The morning doesn’t count.” 

You snorted, but nodded nonetheless. He accepted the kiss you gave him right as your phone started ringing from the bedside table. Nat was there to pick you up, just like he had requested her to when he asked for her help with pulling off this surprise by getting you out of the apartment for a few hours today. 

He gave it ten minutes after you had left before he jumped up and started taking down all of the decorations you had strewn throughout the apartment. It was easy work considering how small the place was, only taking him a few trips to and from the Bronco. He grabbed the small tree last, carrying it delicately so that none of the ornaments fell off and wouldn’t have to be reconstructed. 

It didn’t take too long to get to the house at the end of the cul de sac that was now in both of your names, traffic light despite the holiday. He let himself in with the key that was still shiny with how new it was. He let out a sigh of relief when he flipped the switch and the overhead light in the living room actually turned on - with everything that had gone on, he wouldn’t have been all that surprised if it hadn’t. He made quick work of bringing in everything from the car, including the items that he had purchased and kept in the trunk without you seeing them this week. 

He knew he had limited time, as Nat could only commit to a few hours of keeping you distracted, but it would be more than enough with what he needed to do. His phone buzzed right as he was finishing up a little more than an hour later, your name flashing up at him.

Pumpkin🧡: Getting the check! Back soon❤️

He sent back a response telling you he’d see you soon, quickly finishing up. He locked the door behind him and jogged to the Bronco parked in the driveway, and he was only back at the apartment for less than 10 minutes when you walked in the door with a large smile on your face that quickly morphed into horrified confusion.  

“What happened to our decorations?”

“Hey, Pumpkin. How was brunch?” 

“Were we robbed?”

Bradley barked out a laugh, shaking his head at your wide eyes. “Of our dollar tree Christmas decorations?”

You just gestured wildly around the space, devoid of any hint of the holiday cheer that had existed in its space earlier in the day. He laughed again, closing the distance to where you stood at the still open front door. He reached around you to push it closed before pulling you into him. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips, pursued in an adorable pout. “We weren’t robbed,” he assured you. “But I do have a present for you. Go get changed.” 

“What?” 

He squeezed your hips, smiling warmly. “Trust me?” 

You eyed him closely for a moment before your pout eventually settled into a soft grin, and you let out a long sigh before you nodded. “Always.” 

He kissed you again, a little deeper this time, but pulled away before he could get totally lost in it. “Pajamas are on the bed.”

“Pajamas? It’s 2pm!” 

He only chuckled in response, playfully smacking your butt when you started walking back toward the bedroom. “Trust me.” 

You got even more suspicious when you emerged from the bedroom and saw that he had Florry in her carrier at the door and had changed into his own pajamas. He twirled his keys around his fingers and then held open the door for you. Once you were in the Bronco, cat meowing at your feet, he held out a red silk piece of cloth that made your eyebrows shoot up. 

“Seriously? A blindfold?”

“Think of it like a Christmas adventure. Now let me put it on.”

You huffed a breath but he knew you weren't actually mad - you loved surprises, and there was a smile tugging at your lips as you turned to allow him to tie the silk at the back of your head. He kissed your hair when he was done and turned to start the vehicle. 

“You know,” you said casually, just as Bradley was pulling out of the parking lot, “this blindfold might come in handy later. We should make sure the headboard we pick out has appropriate accommodations.” 

He groaned at the implication, a flush creeping up his neck on instinct. You giggled happily, knowing the effect you had on him. He rested a hand on your thigh as he drove, yours covering his in a familiar move. The feeling of your ring on his skin was one he had grown to love in the last few months since you’ve gotten married. 

You threw out guesses the entire drive over, each one more extravagant and ludicrous than the one before. By the time he pulled into the driveway that one day will be an everyday occurrence, he was grinning so hard that his cheeks were starting to hurt. 

“Don’t move,” he said when he saw you reach for the door handle. He jogged around the Bronco to the passenger side, opening your door. He helped you down before reaching back in for Florry’s carrier, pressing it into your hands so you could carry her, while he focused on you. 

"Alright, Pumpkin," he whispered, his voice laced with eagerness. "Keep your blindfold on, and I'll guide you." His hand tightened around yours as he led you out of the car and towards the front door of your new home. Excitement coursed through him as he thought about your reaction, and he loved that he knew instinctively that it would be positive. 

He loved that he knew you so well. 

“Stay here just a second,” he instructed once he got you through the door. He moved away from you to quickly plug everything in, coming back to you once the room was cast both in the sunlight streaming through the windows and the artificial LED lights. 

He stood in front of you, a grin playing on his lips as he watched you fidget with anticipation. Your blindfold was still securely in place, blocking your vision from the surprise he had prepared. You were so damn beautiful, and he would never understand how he got lucky enough to call himself yours. 

"Okay, baby," he said softly.  He gently took the carrier out of your hands, setting it on the floor and letting the cat out to wander the new space that he had cleared of anything that might hurt her, before moving to stand behind you. Your back flush against his front, he moved his hands up your arms in a smooth caress, settling on your shoulders and squeezing in affection. "You can take off the blindfold now."

With trembling hands, you reached up and slipped the silk cloth from your eyes, revealing the scene before you. Gasping in awe, your eyes widened as you took in the sight that unfolded in the living room. 

“Oh my God. Bradley.” 

The room was still very much a construction zone, but he had moved all of the decorations from the apartment, plus a few more that he had gotten, to decorate the barren space. The tree you had bought sat on the floor in the corner. Blankets lined the unfinished floors, as well as humongous cotton puffs to replicate snow. An air mattress covered with bright red sheets and a green blanket was in the middle of the room. Everything looked straight out of a tacky high school Christmas play, but it was so bad that it was almost good - whimsical and unique.

He watched as you took it all in, feeling his heart beating double time in his chest. When you turned to face him, there was a wide smile on your face, and tears shining in your pretty eyes. You didn’t have to ask for him to know what you were thinking. 

“I wanted our first Christmas together to be in our home, even if it’s not finished yet. I figured we could camp out for the day. You-” The words were knocked out of him as you launched yourself into his arms. He held you for a long moment, pressing a kiss into your hair as your laughter settled. “You deserve something special, Pumpkin,” he finally finished, voice softer than it had been. 

You pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes, your hands cupping his face. “All I need is you, baby. You know that?” 

He turned his head just slightly to press a kiss into your palm, nodding once. “I do.” A smirk twitched at his lips, his mustache twitching with the expression. “Does that mean you want me to pack all this up and return your gifts, too?” 

The gasp you let out was damn near scandalized. "Oh, no you don't!" you playfully swatted at his chest. You motioned toward the tacky decorations with a mischievous grin. "We can't let these go to waste. It's our first Christmas, after all."

Bradley chuckled, arms secure around you.  "It sure is," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. He leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of anticipation lingering. 

“Besides,” you murmured quietly, your eyes sparkling with a familiar look that had him warming from the inside out. “This gives us a jump start on christening the place. That air mattress looks mighty comfortable.” 

Desire flared through him, and he wasted no time in scooping you up in his arms, carrying you bridal-style towards the makeshift bed. Your laughter echoed in the space as he laid you down. 

“You know I’m gonna make you pack all of this back up and put it back up in the apartment until at least New Years, right?” you asked him, slightly breathless as he moved his kisses from your lips down to your neck, nipping at the skin. 

Bradley chuckled, his hands pushing your shirt up, revealing soft skin that he loved to touch. “Oh, of that I have no doubt.” 

Later, you lay nestled together underneath the green blanket, the crackling sound of a virtual fireplace playing from his laptop on the floor beside you while Christmas music played lightly from your phone. You were basking in the glow of the makeshift display as your breathing calmed. You pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his beating heart. He was sure that it skipped a beat at the gesture, but if you noticed, you didn’t comment on it. 

“I can’t wait until we’re in here for good,” you whispered instead. 

He hummed in response, tracing lazy patterns on your bare back. “Me too.” 

You snorted after another moment, propping your head up to meet his eyes. “Hell of a first memory to make here, don’t you think?” 

Bradley laughed lightly, a contented smile spreading across his face. It certainly was, in all of the best ways. “I’ll remember this forever,” he said, voice filled with warmth and conviction, because he couldn’t fathom ever forgetting any moment with you, especially something as perfect as this. 

--------------

Main Masterlist :: The Forgotten Moments Masterlist

Notes: It's been far too long since I wrote anything for these two. I hope you enjoyed it! Likes/comments/reblogs are always appreciated if you did🧡

Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help!

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#alli writes #bradley bradshaw: forgetful boy #the forgotten moments #winterromcomchallenge #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw #tgm fanfiction #tgm #rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x y/n #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Home For Christmas - Jake Seresin x OC

A/N: This is my entry for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Writing Challenge, with the trope childhood friends. I was watching a lot of romcoms last night and felt inspired, it's definitely heavily influenced by 13 Going on 30, Just Friends + Sweet Home Alabama. (I realize only one of those is set in the winter, but I digress). I'm debating a part two/epilogue as well, if anyone is interested! Also super proud of this one, because it's the longest fic I've ever written.

pairing: Jake Seresin x OC

warnings/content: none, lots of fluff and pining. Jake's been promoted to Captain. Probably a lot of inaccuracies.

word count: 7.7k (literally my longest one yet, I'm sorry)

tagging anyone who might be interested: @littleenglishfangirl, @floydsmuse, @sailor-aviator, @mamachasesmayhem 🤍

December, 1999

“Jake! Jake, wait up!” 

“Run faster then, I gotta get home before the street lights come on or my mama’s gonna be so mad she won’t let you come over tomorrow!” 

“Jake, your mama’s not gonna say no to me comin’ over and you know it.”

“Jenna, how you ever gonna keep up with me when I join the navy and start having to run a few miles every day?”

Jake turned around to face you for a moment, running backwards with a grin plastered on his face, his baby-faced cheeks red from the cold, his green eyes full of mischief as he watched you try and keep up with him. His sandy blonde hair stuck out slightly from underneath his Dallas Cowboys baseball cap, a handmedown from his older brother that he rarely left home without since Matt had given it to him. He stopped running, placing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, the cold air stinging his throat as he panted. You finally managed to close the distance between the two of you, raising an eyebrow as you panted, your own cheeks ruddy from the combination of cold winter air and physical activity. 

You and Jake had been best friends as long as you could remember. In eleven years, you couldn’t name a single time where the two of you had as much as had a disagreement, or went more than a few hours without talking to one another. Your mothers had been best friends in high school, and you two were destined to be best friends since birth - born four days apart in the same hospital, living on the same street and having your first play date at 10 and 7 days old. Jake was four days older than you, and he never let you forget it when it came to matters where age or maturity played a role. However, where Jake had four days more experience in the world, you had multitudes more experience in dealing with hardship than any eleven-year-old child should have. 

Where Jake had the picture-perfect family - a mom, a dad, an older sister, an older brother and him, all living in perfect harmonious happiness, never as much as a doubt as to whether or not there was love in his household, you had the opposite. An absent father, an only child, and a mother who worked two jobs to try and make life better for the two of you, you spent almost every waking minute with Jake and his family, not only as an escape to experience the happy, blissfully carefree life he lived, but also, as a favour to your mother, with Mrs. Seresin often volunteering to care for you when your mother had to work late or work on weekends. 

You were at the Seresin home almost every night, with Jake’s mother fussing over her best friend’s daughter, helping her lifelong friend however she could in guiding her little girl, you acting as the surrogate daughter that part of her had always wanted. Jake’s father trying to fill in the blanks where your father had lacked - offering to coach sports teams and including you in games of catch with Jake and his brother, taking you and the boys to get new baseball gloves or soccer cleats when needed, taking the three of you for ice cream after a big achievement in life. Jake’s 16 year old sister, Bethany, would take time to do your hair in the mornings before school whenever she had a chance, offering to do it in all the fun styles she and her friends wore, the kind you were often envious of, passing you old tubes of lip gloss she had lingering around in her backpack on your way to school, encouraging you to use them to your hearts content.  Even Matt, who at 14, thought his brother and his brother’s friends were the most irritating beings in existence, had offered you old sports jerseys of his that no longer fit, teasing you the same way he’d tease Jake, treating you like the little sister he never had. 

Until this past summer, you found yourself wishing most days that Jake’s family would just adopt you, let your mother move in with them and the two of you could just officially be a part of their fun, bustling family that served as your cheerful escape from life. However, when elementary school ended in June with middle school looming around the corner, Bethany had pulled you aside to talk to you about the transition between schools. 

“You know, middle school is…different. It’s not bad. It’s just…things change sometimes. You and Jake might start going on dates with people from school, and it might change your relationship. It happens,” She’d said matter of factly, not mincing words as she shrugged her shoulders, fixing her frosted eyeshadow in the mirror before turning to face you again.

“You might even develop feelings for each other.”

At the time, her words didn’t hold meaning for you. You and Jake had been best friends since Jake was four days old. Your moms were best friends. You practically lived in their home. There was no way things could change between you. You could never have a crush on Jake. He was Jake, the boy who would hide under his mama’s kitchen table with you and a flashlight, swapping baseball cards with one another, the boy who, when you were six-years-old, you’d witnessed eat an entire package of Oreos, then laughed at as he proceeded to throw up an hour later from the sheer volume of chocolate-vanilla sandwich cookies he’d consumed that day. Jake could never be someone you’d have a crush on. He was your best friend. That would never change.

It was two weeks later when Jake had been on the baseball diamond, pitching an inning of Little League with you in the stands watching on. His baseball cap had been flipped backwards to mimic one of his favourite major league players, his green eyes narrowing in concentration with every pitch he threw out. His golden blonde hair poked out the front of his baseball cap, much like it was doing today, on this cold January evening. His focus was on nothing but baseball, while yours was on everything but when it came to him. When he happened to look your way during the game, you felt a weird feeling in your stomach - a bubbling sensation, like nerves that couldn’t be settled. Your cheeks flushed, turning a pale pink as they became warm to the touch, reddening slightly as you felt Bethany’s gaze fall on you, a grin forming on her face as you proved her right about how your feelings were evolving for Jake. 

Since that day, you’d found yourself continuing to crush on him, each day your feelings grew deeper and more intense than the day before. At this point, you almost swore you could see yourself marrying him one day. You had to admit, you knew everything there was to know about him, you always had fun with him, and he was always happy to see you - you were convinced you two could be as happy and as in love as his parents were someday when you and Jake got older. You’d never tell Jake, you just hoped and prayed that he’d realize one day that he felt the same way about you as you felt about him. You knew there was always the chance that it might not happen, but you didn’t want to think about that.  In fact, as far as you were concerned, you hoped that there was never a day where Jake didn’t love you as wholeheartedly as your little eleven year old self loved him.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 

Present Day

“Jake, please, come back. I miss you,”

“I miss you too, Jenna, I’m coming home to you. It’s always been you.”

The ear-piercing screech of your phone’s alarm blared from your nightstand, interrupting your dream as it screamed at you. You rolled over in bed, groaning as you clumsily stuck your hand out, feeling around on the wooden side table for your phone to silence it and allow yourself a few more moments of peace and quiet before you had to start your day. The last think you wanted right now was to let this dream slip away on you - it was the closest you’d ever find yourself to Jake professing his love for you after all these years, and you clung to it whenever it cropped up in your mind as you slept. 

Jake had always been the one-who-got-away for you. You spent your entire middle school years trying to hide your feelings for him, refusing to break until he said how he felt first. You were 13 when he got his first girlfriend, Tiffany Donaldson, a girl in your class. Tiffany was pretty and popular, something that you couldn’t claim for yourself in either case - growing up with Jake, you were seen as more of a teammate or a sister-figure than anything else, despite his sister’s best efforts to help you shake that connection somewhat. After Tiffany, you two had begun high school, and Jake made the football team, and the baseball team. As the school’s star runningback and starting pitcher for the varsity team, Jake was popular beyond words. No one could hold a candle to him, and as his popularity soared because of his athletic prowess in school, you faded further and further back into obscurity, the limelight falling from you and onto someone new each time Jake began dating another girl. Eventually, by the time graduation rolled around, you and Jake had all but fallen out of touch with each other outside of family get-togethers shared between your mothers. 

You had just worked up the courage to tell him your feelings at the graduation party Jake’s parents had thrown for you both, convincing yourself that it was perfect timing - Jake had accepted an offer at the University of Texas at Austin, keeping close to home as he planned to study finance, his secret talent having always been math. You’d accepted an offer to study communications at the same school, and with both of you remaining local, it would be the perfect time to tell him how you felt and attempt a relationship with him, or so you thought.

Before the words could even leave your mouth, Jake was excitedly pulling you aside at the party, stopping outside of his childhood bedroom, the place where the two of you had often played as kids. His green eyes were full of excitement as he looked at you, causing your heart to race as butterflies fluttered in your stomach, making it hard to concentrate on his words. You almost didn’t hear him when he spoke, you were so transfixed on him. If the news had been anything else, you probably wouldn’t have even registered what he’d said the first time. You could still hear the excitement in his voice as he told you his news, and still feel the ache in the pit of your stomach as his words fell on your ears.

“I got accepted! I’m going to the Naval Academy, Jenna, can you believe it? I’m going to serve in the Navy, just like I always wanted. I’m going to be the best aviator they’ve ever seen. Just you watch.” 

Jake’s voice was practically buzzing with excitement as he’d told you his news, and it took everything you had in you to not fall apart as he spoke. While you knew he’d always dreamed of being a naval aviator, as long as you could remember, the news hit you like a ton of bricks, unexpected and hard as it rendered you speechless, leaving you nodding your head and smiling like an idiot while inside you wanted nothing more than to scream out how you felt. You knew this could never work out between you now. Your chance was gone, moving away to Maryland and joining the Navy before you’d even had a second to realize what was happening when he spoke. 

That was 17 years ago, and the moment still haunted you from time to time, more than you’d like to admit to anyone. At first, you’d kept in touch with Jake and his family, seeing Jake when he came home for holidays and such at first, but then, as you and Jake began entering your first romantic relationships as adults, you found yourselves including each other less and less in your lives. With each boyfriend you had, you realized more and more that you could never love them the way you loved Jake -he’d always be your first love, regardless of how he felt in return. When Jake graduated, he’d been stationed at NAS Lemoore, swapping Maryland for California. You’d still hear the odd update from your mother, who remained in touch with Jake’s parents, but otherwise, you didn’t ask much about Jake’s adult life. You knew he’d never married, that he’d become a Top Gun graduate, and held true to his word about becoming one of the greatest fighter pilots in the United States Navy, but other than that, you knew little about his life now. Last you had heard, last Christmas, he’d been stationed in San Diego. 

You sat up in bed, yawning and stretching your body out before heaving a heavy sigh and shaking your head to rid yourself of thoughts of Jake. You were preparing for a trip back home to Texas for the holidays, spending three weeks back with your mother, part of you wishing and longing for Jake to be visiting his family at the same time, while the other part of you prayed he was staying in California or serving a tour so he wouldn’t be able to be there while you were. It had been close to 15 years since you’d seen him, and the last thing you needed was to be reminded of how you strongly you felt. You didn’t need the help from seeing him. The memories of him were more than enough to keep you clinging on. 

Your phone rang and with bleary eyes, you picked it up, pressing the green button to answer the call.

“Good morning, sweetheart!” Your mother practically sang out in a voice that was far too cheerful for anyone to have at this hour. 

“Hi mama, what’s up? My flight doesn’t land until this evening.” 

“Well, I was talking to Mrs. Seresin about Jake, Matt and Bethany…” Your mother’s voice trailed off as she spoke, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat at the mention of Jake.

“Mhmm?” You responded as you stood up, balancing the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you folded a sweatshirt and set it down neatly on the bed, waiting to be packed.

“It turns out both of us are having our kids home for Christmas! Bethany’s coming down from Dallas with her husband and their little ones, and Matt’s coming from Oklahoma City with his fiancee, and Jake’s flying in on leave from California. He’s made his way up to Captain now, you know, Jenna. He’s made quite the career for himself.”

“Mama, I don’t need a sales pitch on why Jake Seresin is the perfect man for me, ok? He hasn’t seen me in years. He probably wouldn’t even recognize me if he saw me.”

“You never know. But I expect you to dress nicely for their Christmas party. You and I have been invited to join them, and I already said you would gladly be attending.”

“Of course you did. So Jake will be there, then?”

“I think his flight lands just before yours does today, actually. His mama and I were actually discussing if we should just carpool together to pick you both up like back when you two were in school together. Remember that? We used to take turns carting you kids back and forth from home to school.”

“I remember, mama. Don’t worry.”

“Anyway…we were talking and it turns out, Jake happens to be single.”

“Mama, why would I care that Jake’s single?” You replied, trying to sound as level-headed as possible. 

“Please, Jenna. You really think I don’t know about this crush of yours you’ve been harbourin’ for years?” You could hear the laughter in your mother’s tone as she spoke, and it stung, almost as though your feelings had betrayed you.

“Mama! I haven’t had a crush on Jake in years. Not since he left for the Navy.”

“Of course not…just, do me a favour? Wear something nice for that Christmas party, ok?”

“Sure, Mama, whatever you say.”

You finished the conversation with your mother and let out an exasperated sigh as you tossed your phone onto your bed beside you. You had to be at the airport in three hours, leaving you little time to completely reconfigure your wardrobe for the next few weeks at home in Austin. Peering into your closet, scanning the items as they sat on wire hangers in the tiny space, you frowned, realizing that nothing was worthy of a reunion with Jake after all these years. At the back of the closet, you found a black, form-fitting sweater dress that you hadn’t worn in years, but, as you held it up to yourself in the mirror, you figured it could work. Part of you hoped this reunion could be the thing that’d remind Jake of what he was missing out on for the last 17 years. 

As you finished packing your suitcase, you zipped it closed with a sigh, shaking your head as you tried to calm your nerves before getting yourself ready for your flight. There was a chance you could see Jake at the airport, and you knew you had to look your best, just in case. 

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 

The flight from Chicago to Austin was the most painful three hours of your life. You tried to focus your attention on anything but Jake, but every movie saved on your phone, every book on your tablet, and every thought that crossed your mind was filled with him. You tried reminding yourself that he could be a totally different person from who he was when you were 18. That he could look completely different, act completely different - that he may not even know who you are anymore. The thought of Jake forgetting you was suffocating, closing in on you a little bit more every time it creeped into your mind. You took a deep breath as you departed the plane, your eyes scanning the crowd for your mother as you gripped your carry-on. Your face went white as a sheet as you saw her standing with Mrs. Serensin, both of whom waved frantically with excitement as they saw you.

“Jenna! It’s been so long, darlin’, how have you been? Your mama’s told me lots, but I feel like it’s no substitute for getting to see you in person!” 

“Hi, Mrs. Serensin! I’ve been ok, how have you guys been? Haven’t seen you in about, 15 years? I think I saw y’all the one visit after Jake shipped out, but I haven’t been home much for the holidays, Mama’s usually up in Chicago visiting me.”

“We’ve been good, Bethany has two boys now, Easton and Dylan, and Matt’s met this girl, Alexis, she’s wonderful, a real sweetheart. He’s gettin’ married next summer. “

“Oh, that’s great news!” You replied cheerfully, fighting the instinct to bite your lip as she failed to mention where Jake was at in life. 

“We better get going, Julie, Jake’s plane’s about to land,” Your mother said as she grabbed Mrs. Seresin’s arm excitedly, nodding her head.

“Oh, I thought Jake landed earlier?” 

“He was meant to, but his flight got delayed, he’s landing in a few minutes now, I think.”

You nodded your head slowly, reluctantly following behind as your mom and Mrs. Serensin led the way to Jake’s terminal, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes followed the signage as you walked past. You tried your best to focus on something, anything, but your nerves but so far, your nerves were winning. You were terrified. What if Jake hated you for not staying in touch? What if he forgot all about you? What if you were the last person he wanted to see? What he if came through those doors with a surprise girlfriend on his arm?

“Ma!” You heard a voice call out. You looked up to see a tall, handsome man with neatly combed blonde hair, piercing green eyes and sunkissed skin. His naval uniform was still perfectly pressed without a crease on it somehow after his flight, and he looked perfect. You knew in an instant that it was him.

“Ms. T?” He chuckled as he shook his head, pulling back from his mother’s embrace as he gave your mother a heartfelt hug, before pausing as he looked at you, a warm smile on his lips as he nodded his head, his blonde eyebrow cocked upwards in surprise. 

“Jenna?”

“The one and only,” You shrugged with a smile as you tried your best to play it cool, forgetting for a moment that at 35 years old, you shouldn’t be getting tongue-tied and start giggling like a schoolgirl over a crush. The mere fact that you still had a crush on Jake was enough to make you feel like a fool.

“It’s nice to see ya, Jenna,” Jake nodded as he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you into his embrace. You breathed in the scent of his cologne, notes of whiskey and cedarwood encircling you as his grip remained tight, yet comfortable around you, as if he was hugging his long lost friend, which, he was in a sense. 

“Nice to see you too, Jake,” You nodded once as he pulled away, a soft smile on your lips as you looked at him, trying to commit this moment to memory before it drifted away on you. 

You swore out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mothers exchange a look with one another, a secret signal to one another, as if a master plan of theirs was underway, and everything was beginning to come together before their eyes.  

As the four of you headed out to the car together, you caught yourself repeatedly stealing glances at Jake. He hadn’t changed hardly at all since you saw him last, apart from gaining some muscle, and his cheekbones and jawline becoming a bit more defined as he’d aged. He looked incredible for 35, if you didn’t know him, you likely would have guessed he was barely 30, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself fall deeper with each stolen look at him. 

“So, you’re Captain Seresin now then?” You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him, hoping to break the silence brewing between the two of you.

“Yeah, this past April! I didn’t expect to get it, to be honest.”

Jake’s cheeks reddened as he smiled at you, trying to appear modest as he spoke of his accomplishments in the Navy since you’d last seen him. He had always used to have an ego so big that it’d rival some of the aircraft around in size, especially as a teenager - he was good and he knew he was good when it came to sports. It was part of what drove the two of you apart, but around you? He was modest like he always had been before, acting embarrassed by the achievements he’d otherwise never shut up about. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think Jake was nervous around you. Jake Seresin, the only service member on active duty with multiple confirmed kills, the US Naval Air Force Captain who’s served for the last 17 years without as much as a scratch on him, the man who graduated top of his class from the Top Gun program, where only the best of the best are selected to participate. Jake Seresin had no need to be nervous about impressing you. He could have impressed you by simply looking your way - but for some reason, he was nervous around you, reduced to a blushing, modest mess.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 

“Jake’s such a lovely boy,” Your mother said as she sipped her morning coffee, eyes fixated on the news program on her television set. 

“He’s 35, mama, he’s hardly a boy now.”

“Fine, Jake’s a lovely man, he’s still just as sweet as I remember him being when he was young. He comes back to visit whenever he gets a leave and stays for a few days, and he always stops by to say hello - he even asks about you sometimes.”

“He asks about me?”

“He sure does, he asked Julie about you the other day, in fact. He was asking if you’d be home this time at Christmas. Seems you two always come back to visit on opposite schedules and never run into each other. He was saying he’d like to see you again, Jenna.”

Your mother’s words hung in the air for a moment. You took a sip from your coffee mug and furrowed your brow as you thought it over. You dismissed your mother’s words as nothing more than an attempt to set you and Jake up on a date, one that you figured Jake wasn’t going to be a willing participant of. 

“Oh Mama, hush, he probably just said that to be polite because he figured I’d be coming home for the holidays anyway.”

“Jenna, why are you always so stubborn?” Your mother frowned, shaking her head as she let out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not stubborn, I’m just…practical. I’m the only one who seems to realize the fact that Jake and I haven’t seen each other in 17 years, Mama. We’re not the same people we were when we were 18. He could be a serial womanizer with a series of broken hearts left behind waiting for him in California for all I know. He could have 17 kids by different women, or be a serial killer, Mama. I literally know nothing about him anymore.”

“Jenna Elizabeth Taylor, you’re just being ridiculous now,” Your mother frowned as she shook her head, sighing, “I think Julie would have mentioned it if Jake was a father, and do you really think he’s the type to go around breaking hearts for fun? Besides, how could he be a serial killer if he’s busy flying around on missions all the time?”

“You’re missing my point, Ma.”

“No, Jenna, I think you’re missing mine,” She sighed, setting her mug down on the table as she pursed her lips, “My point is, I know you’ve been holding out for him for years. He’s asked his mama about you, he’s been asking if you were coming home, he stops in to see me whenever he comes home - do you really think he’d do all that if he didn’t still feel something for you?”

“Mama, I���m not going to make a fool of myself and throw myself at him, contrary to what you think would work.”

You heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, and when you turned on your heel, you stood face to face with Jake, now sporting a fitted pair of acid-washed light denim jeans and a burnt orange Texas Longhorns football jersey and a brown corduroy bomber jacket shrugged on over top. His blonde hair peaked out from behind his beloved baseball cap, you’d swear it was the same one he’d been wearing since he was 15 if you didn’t know any better, this hat looked like it had been through hell and back.

He’d let himself in through the unlocked front door, almost certainly at your mother’s previous insistence or invitation. His cheeks were blushing again, his green eyes darting between the two of you, a blonde eyebrow cocked upwards as his gaze landed on you.

“Throw yourself at who?” He chuckled, flashing a set of perfect white teeth your way as gave you that same grin that he always did when you were kids. It was the kind of smile that always got him out of trouble, and sometimes, into trouble, depending on the situation. 

“No one,” You said quickly, shooting your mother a warning glance as you shook your head, a few strands of light brown hair falling free from your half-assed ponytail that you’d thrown it up into the night before for bed. You realized that Jake was now standing in your mother’s living room while you were sporting an oversized old Texas Longhorns tee and a pair of sweatpants - not ideal attire for seeing a man you were attracted to in, regardless of your protests about your feelings to your mother. 

“Right,” Jake nodded his head, but the tone in his voice told you he didn’t quite believe a word you were saying, “I know this isn’t a great time, but Ma wanted me to check and see if you and Ms. T were still able to make it tonight, she wanted me to ask in person, and she wanted me to see if you needed my help bringing anything over, she said you were bringing your famous taco dip, Ms. T? I can bring the dish over now for you if you’d like, Ma’s cleared out the fridge of anything that isn’t a necessity for the party so there’s tons of room.”

“Sure, Jake, honey, it’s in the fridge, Jenna can show you where, I just have to run upstairs and grab something to send to your mama’s with you,” Your mother said as she stood up, heading off up the stairs quicker than you could say a word, leaving you and Jake alone in an awkward stance, nothing but the sound of the morning news to fill the silent void between you, until Jake cleared his throat again before pointing his index finger towards the kitchen.

“In here? I’m sure I can find it if you need to go upstairs and get changed.” 

“I’m fine, not like you haven’t seen me in pajamas before, Jake.”

“Well, in my defense, last time we were like, 12.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen a woman in an oversized tee and sweatpants before,” You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to be completely unbothered by the fact you felt like you were dressed like an absolute slob right now. 

“Alright, lead the way then,” Jake nodded as he followed behind you. 

You felt his eyes make their way down your body, and you swore you could hear him muttering something under his breath as he sauntered into the kitchen after you. You couldn’t make out what he had said, but it sounded almost like a “Jesus Christ” before he coughed and averted his gaze as you turned to face him. You opened the fridge and grabbed the dish containing your mom’s taco dip before setting it on the counter for Jake to take home. You raised an eyebrow at Jake as you caught him staring in your direction, a look of bewilderment on his face. 

“You good, Hangman?”

“Hmm?” Jake said as he shook his head, an awkward laugh escaping his lips as he raised an eyebrow at you, “How did you know my callsign?”

“Because it’s on the back of your jersey, genius.”

Jake raised an eyebrow as he looked down, as if he’d forgotten what shirt he was wearing today. He nodded his head and laughed as he ran a hand through the back of his hair, scratching the back of his neck as he looked back up at you. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Just, uh, jet-lagged, I think.”

“Jet-lagged? Isn’t only two hours behind us in San Diego?”

“You can still feel jet-lag with a two hour difference, Jenna.”

“I’m not stupid, Jake, I know that, but you seem…distracted? Not tired.”

“I’m fine, honest,” He nodded as he shoved his hands into his front pockets, looking around the kitchen as you checked the fridge for the extra shredded cheese and green onions your mother had prepared the night before to top the dip she’d made. 

“Suit yourself, Jake,” You laughed as you set everything out on the counter for him and nodded, “If you give me five minutes to get dressed, I’ll help you bring it over.”

“Five minutes? God, I remember you taking 30 minutes to get ready when we were kids.”

“I was 12, it was 2000, I needed more time to perfect my lip gloss routine. Now I just have to put something warmer and nicer on than a t-shirt and sweatpants.”

“Fair enough, I can wait here. Your mama said she’d back down in a minute with something for Ma anyways.”

“Right, I’ll be back down in five.” 

You turned around and headed back up the stairs, sighing softly to yourself as you entered your childhood bedroom, opening your suitcase as you grabbed out a pair of jeans and a vintage crewneck sweatshirt. You tidied your hair up into a neat ponytail before heading back down the stairs to meet Jake, who was currently talking to your mother in the kitchen, his body leaning against the counter as he spoke. Jake looked up at you, straightening his posture as he saw you. He picked the taco dip up from the counter, along with the reusable shopping bag your mother had packed up of the extra ingredients. Sitting on the counter next to the food was a gift, perfectly wrapped with a gold bow and a tag written out in your mother’s sleek handwriting. Jake’s mother and yours had always exchanged gifts with one another, and it warmed your heart in a sense to see the tradition still carrying on for them. 

“So, you enjoy living in Chicago?” Jake asked, watching you as the two of you headed back from your childhood home, Jake having insisted on walking you back so you could spend some time catching up, even if just for a few minutes. .

“Yeah, it’s a change of scenery. It’s different from Austin for sure. How’s San Diego treating you?”

“It’s pretty good, I like being on the beach. I do miss home sometimes though,” He laughed softly, giving his shoulders a gentle shrug as he looked around at the street you grew up on, just a couple of blocks away from his own childhood home.

“I mean, yeah, I miss my mom sometimes when I’m in Chicago, but, I know it’s easier for me to come home and see her than for you to come home and see your family.”

“Jenna? Can I ask you something?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do you…do you regret leaving for Chicago?”

“No, I wouldn’t be where I’m at now if I hadn’t left. I have a really good career in public relations, and I’m happy with where I’m at professionally. I wouldn’t have gotten that if I stayed in Austin, just like you wouldn’t have gotten as far in the Navy if you hadn’t gone to Annapolis.”

Jake stayed silent for a minute, his eyes looking everywhere but at you, avoiding your gaze. You could sense tension between the two of you. The Jake you knew growing up was never awkward, and never stopped talking - had he really changed that much since he’d left? You couldn’t see the Navy taming him to the point where he became reserved, Jake had always been so outgoing, so full of self-pride that it often came off as cocksure arrogance, but most of the time, it was out of sheer disbelief that he’d made it that far. You looked to him, his hands firmly in his pockets as he let out a huff, his breath turning to vapor in the cool December air. 

“I should really get going,” Jake nodded slowly, checking his watch as he looked back towards the street, “I promised Ma I’d help her set up.”

“Right, right, I’ll see you in a couple hours? Mama and I’ll be there.”

“Perfect, I’ll see you then,” Jake nodded, a warm smile on his features as he turned to start heading back.

You let out a heavy sigh, mentally kicking yourself as you realized you’d just let another opportunity to tell Jake how you felt slip away from you. As you headed up to your bedroom to get ready, moving quickly to dodge any questions from your mother, who was probably desperate to hear how your alone time with Jake had gone. 

You shut the door behind you, sighing again as you sat at your old vanity table, brushing through your hair and sectioning it with a claw clip as you began straightening it, trying your best to calm your nerves and make a decision on how you were going to approach Jake. You wanted to tell him, desperately, how you felt, but, part of you couldn’t help but cling to the fact you might regret it. That you might be disappointed and find out that Jake never felt the same about you, and that he never would. Or that he’d be in a relationship with someone else back in San Diego, someone prettier, younger, smarter, better. 

On the other hand, did you really want to commit yourself to never telling him how you felt? Letting the door shut on the one man you’d loved the longest, the most, and the hardest in your lifetime? Could you really be happy with anyone else? What if something happened to Jake while he was serving and you never got the chance to share how you felt? What if, somehow, there was the off chance he felt the same way about you?

As you finished your makeup, taking a deep breath as you looked yourself over in the mirror, you nodded your head. You had to tell him. There was no way you could let him go back to San Diego without knowing. You couldn’t let this go unsaid any longer, if for no other reason than to give yourself closure. If he rejected you, you could move on - or at least, try to. You could finally let go of your feelings and meet someone, and try your hardest to love them with the same enthusiastic, all-consuming love you felt for Jake. If he felt the same way, you’d apply for a job transfer to Los Angeles as soon as possible, because a three-hour drive was much more manageable of a commute to see him than a flight from Chicago to San Diego. 

This was it, you were going to finally do it. You just needed to get Jake alone.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 

“Oh, Jenna! It’s been so long, how are you?” 

Bethany’s voice was sweet as honey as she spoke, wrapping her arms around you in a warm embrace, as if she’d been missing you for years and the sight of you reminded her of just how much.

“I’m great thanks, Beth, how are you? Your mama said you have two boys now? Easton and Dylan?” 

“Yeah, they’re 6 and 4, they’re little handfuls like their uncles, but I guess that’s to be expected when you’ve got Jake and Matt as influences for you. My husband’s not much better.” 

Bethany laughed as she gestured towards Jake playing with Easton? Or was it Dylan? Jake’s unmistakeable toothy grin plastered on his face, his green eyes alight with joy as he lifted his young nephew up, tickling him, the young boy’s laughter filling the air as Jake continued to make him laugh. Jake looked up to see you with his sister, smiling as he set the boy down on the floor, ruffling his hair with his fingers before making his way over to you. 

“Jenna! Hey, I’m glad you came.”

“Told you I would, didn’t I?” You laughed, shrugging your shoulders as effortlessly as possible as you tried to play it cool, praying no one saw through the front you were putting up.

“Hey, Jenna, can I…can I talk to you for a sec?” Jake asked sheepishly.

You couldn’t mistake the look on Bethany’s face, biting her lip to hold back a grin. You caught Jake giving her a stare that could make any person stop dead in their tracks, his green eyes practically piercing through his older sister as she tried not to laugh. As you nodded your head, raising your eyebrow at the scene unfolding before you. You followed behind Jake as he led you upstairs to his old childhood bedroom. When he opened the door, you were confronted with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. Old pictures adorned the wall, some including you and Jake as children, with ice cream covered smiles and skinned knees, baseball uniforms and halloween costumes, missing teeth and messy curls. 

“Ma hasn’t changed anything since I left home, I don’t even think she’s bought new bedding for this room.” He chuckled as he looked around the room, his large hands placed firmly on his hips as he stood in the doorway. 

“Still sleeping with those baseball player sheets you had as a kid?” You teased, eyeing the comforter on the bed, neatly made and pulled together, a sign of Jake’s time in the navy.

“You know it, I’m still a big kid, really,” He laughed, nodding his head as he pointed to a picture on the wall before looking over at you, “Remember this one? Your 7th birthday party, I think I snuck an extra little bit of frosting off your birthday cake and my mama almost killed me. She told me I had the table manners of a barn animal.” 

“You did, you used to chew with your mouth full too.”

“I grew out of it at least. I’m a little more civilized now.” Jake replied with a smirk, shrugging his shoulders as he turned to face you, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath before exhaling sharply. You could see Jake chewing at the inside of his cheek, nodding his head as his eyes met yours.

“I have to tell you something, ok?” He finally said, sighing heavily.

“I’m listening, Jake.”

“I should have told you this a long time ago, but…I love you.”

You sputtered for a moment, eyes wide in shock as he spoke. He frowned, clearly expecting a better reaction than what you’d given him. Jake shook his head and took your hand in his, stroking the back of your hand gently with his fingers, which were almost surprisingly soft and smooth to the touch.

“I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way. I don’t care if you just wanna be friends after hearing this, because even though the truth is, I'm scared to be your friend, I would rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you in my life at all. The last 17 years have been spent missing you and wishing I’d said something before I left. That I’d kissed you or held you, or said something, anything to you.” He frowned, nodding his head as he looked to the ground before continuing to speak, his voice beginning to tremble with emotion.

“I was stupid to just go and leave things there, but I’ve been paying for it ever since. No other woman has ever compared to you.”

Without another word, you gripped the front of Jake’s football jersey, using it to give you leverage to pull him in closer, your lips crashing into his just as he looked up at you to see what you were doing. Any initial hesitation either of you felt melted away into the kiss, your lips moving together passionately, Jake’s hands trailing their way down your sides to rest on your hips, pulling your body in closer to his. When he finally pulled away to catch his breath, he maintained a small distance between the two of you, speaking in a low whisper as he watched you bite your now puffy, kiss-bitten bottom lip.

“Is that your way of telling me you feel the same way? Because if you do, I want to take you on a date. And I don't care if it's in the day, or at night, or whenever, as long as it's a real date. And I wanna sit there and tell you how beautiful I think you are, Inside and out. How you’ve always been the most beautiful girl in the world to me, without a doubt. And I wanna have babies with you, and I wanna marry you, and I wanna tell you every day that I love you and I always have." Jake nodded, his cheeks blushing as he scratched the back of his neck again, waiting for your response to his rambling feelings.

“Jake, I’ve spent the last 17 years of my life waiting to hear you say that.”

“I know, I’m sorry, Jenna. I’m so sorry I made you wait.”

“Promise me something, Jake?”

“Anything you want, pretty girl.”

“Promise me you won’t make me wait that long again? I’m not sure I can wait another 17 years for you to ask me to marry you.” 

“Jenna, I swear to you, I’m not making you wait for anything ever again. I’d marry you tomorrow if I didn’t think my mama would have me committed for running off to get married three days after our reunion.”

“You’d marry me tomorrow?”

“With bells on, babe. With bells on. I’d marry you right here, right now, in my beat up Longhorns jersey, and drive off into the sunset with you in my truck if you wanted.”

“I don’t know about that, Captain Seresin,” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him as you felt his hands caress your sides, “As tempting as that sounds, we do have 17 years of lost time to make up for.”

“And I intend to make up for every single second of that with you, Jenna. Here, Chicago, San Diego, I don’t care. I just want you. All of you, completely and totally.”

#WinterRomComChallenge #jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x oc #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin fic #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #hangman top gun #hangman imagine #hangman fic #hangman x oc #hangman x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake hangman seresin fluff #hangman fluff #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fic

[ryebecca]

You're home for your town's annual New Year's Eve party - and so is your childhood best friend's older brother, Bob. Bob Floyd. The boy you had a crush on all through school, but who only ever saw you as his little sister. But when Bob sees you at the party for the first time in years, he wonders if he had it wrong all this time. You can bet that sparks will fly! ✨ (Bob + "home for the holidays" for @bellaireland1981 Winter RomCom Challenge!)

#winterromcomchallenge #tgmedit #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd imagine #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #*myedit #*mymoodboard #would that i were his midnight kiss

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

'Tis The Damn Season

Javy 'Coyote' Machado x Reader

Description: You've made your closest friends over the past decade as a Naval Aviator. That close friend group only expanded when your best friend fell in love when you were in flight school. Nat and Jake are cute together, you can't deny that. It helps that you get along well with Jake. Sadly, where Jake Seresin goes, so does Javy Machado. You can fly with the man, be the perfect wingman, but when both your feet are on the ground, you can't stand him. You're so sure the feeling is mutual. 48 hours in a car with him teaches you differently. Javy Machado is sweet and funny and you might just be falling in love with him. Or have you been in love with him all along?

Themes: Stuck in the snow, showers, shower-thoughts, hate-to-love, stranded in the snow,

Warnings: Female!Reader This fic is for adults age 18 and older, only! There are some fairly spicy thoughts in this part and 100% spicy happenings in the next part! Please do not read if sexual intimacy is disturbing to you!

Word Count: 3938

Author Note: This is part one of two of Gypsy and Javy's story and was written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Writing Challenge! I had an absolute blast writing this fic for Trope #17, Stuck Together/Snowed in/Stranded. I hope you all love reading this fic as much as I loved writing it! All my thanks go to @desert-fern who was instrumental as I bounced ideas back and forth for this fic, as well as for beta-reading it for me!

Cross Posted on AO3 Here!

My Masterlist

It was supposed to be the start of a fabulous holiday - supposed to be, being the key words. It’s rare, honestly nigh on impossible for you to end up having vacation leave lined up at the same time as your friends. You’re in the Navy, you’re a pilot; it kind of comes with the territory. But what is the likelihood you’d find yourself stuck in a car in the middle of a Colorado snowstorm with none other than Javy Machado? You’re unsure who you should blame because the universe clearly has it out for you.

Well, it's either the universe or Natasha Fucking Trace. Honestly, between mystic powers controlling everything that has been or will be and Nat, you’d pick her any day. A part of you has some sympathy for her. It can’t be easy dating a guy and knowing your best friend and his can’t stand each other. It’s the truth, too. You can’t remember why or when you started to get angry at the sight of his smiling face. Still, it was probably sometime between when he asked you if you needed a booster seat to see out of the cockpit and when he blitzed you on the first of the many flights you’ve taken with him. 

Why the fuck isn’t he going home to Louisiana? That’s what he usually does. God, if there’s anyone who’d know, it would be you. After all, you’ve been flying with Coyote Machado for the better part of the past decade. Every year, he’d cash in all his leave and fly home. Like clockwork, he’d return after the new year more infuriating than ever. But your knowledge of his behavior doesn’t explain why he’s in Colorado. You were both on an aircraft carrier in the Philippines, for fuck’s sake. There had to have been a transport to Louisiana via the East Coast. But against all odds, the two of you had been on the same transport and flight, hell, even the same bus to the terminal once you landed in Denver.

Now he’s staring at the same board you are, with flickering red signs as flight after flight gets marked as canceled. Including the one you were supposed to be on. It’s just your luck that Tash and Jake are reporting to Norfolk Naval Base right now. It’s just your luck that the only transport you’d been able to get on had landed in San Diego. And it’s just your luck that the cheapest flight you could get had been via Denver in the midst of what has to be the worst snowstorm the region has ever seen. Reception is spotty, but you huddle in a corner, praying to all the gods you don’t believe in that your call connects.

“Tash?” Her voice is grainy and barely audible, but god, if it doesn’t make you want to cry. “I’m in Denver, yeah. There’s a colossal snowstorm blowing in. My flight’s been canceled.”

“I don’t think I’m going to make it in time.”

“I know.”

“I know. I’ve missed you so much. But I don’t see a way for me to get out of here and get there in time?” 

“Yeah, Javy’s here.” You can’t control your eye roll as you say his name. “Yeah, I’ll give him the phone.”

“Yo, Machado. Tash wants to talk to you.” He takes the phone from you like he doesn’t want to touch you, which shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

It’s loud and crowded at the airport, so you can’t hear a word of what he says to Nat. There’s nothing else to do but stand at the window and watch the snow fall and fall and fall. There’s already close to a foot accumulated on the ground, and while you’d been wishing for the snow in the heat and humidity of the ship, you hate it now.

“Here, Gypsy.” You accept the device with a half-smile. “Tash had a pretty good idea, y’know?”

You can’t help raising your eyebrow. Javy swallows, more than a little discomfited at your gimlet gaze. “She suggested we rent a car and drive out to Norfolk together.”

Eighteen hundred miles, and he wants to spend all of that time and distance stuck in a car with you? You scoff, “You couldn’t pay me to do that, Machado.”

“Yeah, I know.” There’s something sad and haunted in his eyes. “I know. Believe me, I do. But this isn’t about you and me. This is about Jake and Nat. They want us there, celebrating Christmas with them. So don’t think about doing this with me. Think about how you’re doing this for them.”

Damn him. Damn him for being right. “How are we going to get a car in this?” People are yelling at the poor airline staff behind the counter, kids are screaming, and Christmas Carols are pouring out of the speakers. It’s chaos - loud, unmitigated chaos.

“You leave that to me. You have your bags?” Before you can think or even respond, he’s cutting a swathe through the crowd, and you’re left standing near two Navy standard-issue duffel bags and your one small rolling suitcase. It takes half an hour before he comes back. In that half an hour, you find you’re glad you’d opted for carry-on bags because the mob at the counter waiting to collect check-in bags descends into an outright fistfight.

Javy’s rumpled, his sweater mussed when he lopes back to you, thankfully with car keys in hand. “I got ’em. We have to head down to the main concourse.”

“Anything to get out of this shitshow.” He chuckles and grabs your bags and his own despite your protests.

The car is old but functioning. It’s tiny, though. It's so small that you’re not sure he’ll fit behind the wheel. It can’t be comfortable when he does end up in the car. It looks like his knees are pressed against his chest, even with the seat pushed back as far as it can go. You’re in the passenger seat because he refused to let you drive, and as expected, you’re surrounded by snow the minute the car leaves the parking garage. Visibility is shit, and it feels like the car is moving at a glacial pace. You’re surprised the roads are open at all, and to add insult to injury, you’re sitting in silence. The radio isn’t working, there is more snow - this time of the feedback variety, ironically - and the car is old, so there is no auxiliary cable or USB cable to connect your phone to. And, well, you’re not a fan of the man you’re stuck in the car with for the next 24 to 36 hours, so the less conversation you have, the better. It’s not even like you can read. You’ve only been on the road for an hour at most when the sun sets. But the roads are still open, and traffic is still moving.

As the minutes turn into an hour on the dark, snow-covered roads, you feel your exhaustion setting in. You’ve never slept well on planes - go figure that ninety percent of the time you’re in a cockpit, you’re flying - but flying commercial somehow makes it work. Strap yourself into a jump seat on a cargo plane, and you’re out like a light. Sleeping on a carrier with planes taking off round the clock and midshipmen screaming outside the door, you’re snoring like a baby. But flying economy? Forget about it. So, besides the few hours of fitful sleep you’d gotten on the cargo plane - because you can’t sleep where Javy Machado can make fun of you - you’ve been awake for nearly 48 hours. Your eyes feel itchy and hot, each blink torturous as you fight exhaustion. The car is so warm, and Javy's silent. Even he can't object if you rest your eyes a little, right?

You wake up to a roar of the word, ‘SHIT’, echoing through the car. You startle, and if you were a cat, you’d be stuck to the upper upholstery, fur ruffled and back arched. A coat covers your lap, the soft, rich wool imbued with spicy cologne. It has to be Javy's coat. When did that get there? The visibility out of the windshield is even worse, if possible, and Coyote’s arms are corded as they clutch the wheel in an iron grip.

“Hey, how long was I out?” He doesn’t even look at you when usually he’d be more than ready to tease you on how you probably have drool on your face.

“Coyote? ‘Yote? Hey?!”

“Javy? What’s going on?” You place your hand on his arm, pretending not to notice how firm and warm it is under the bunched-up sleeves of the soft sweater he’s wearing. “Javy, you’re scaring me. C’mon. Tell me what’s happening. What’s a wingwoman for if she can’t help?”

“We’re somewhere in Kansas, and the snow makes this really hard.” There’s something unreadable in the expression on his face as he snarls at the other, far slower drivers on the road in front of you.

“We should stop for the night then.” 

“No.” He snarls the words at you, and that’s when you know something is wrong. “No, I can keep going.”

“Javy, maybe you can, but I can’t. I need to take a break, hit the head, and stretch my legs.” 

He doesn’t respond, content to make you worry the longer the silence spirals between you like an oppressive living thing. He pulls off the highway when the next exit presents itself. The motel he pulls up to on the side of the road is rough-looking. It’s small and old, but at least it smells clean, or well, at least clean-ish. As luck would have it - because your luck couldn't be any shittier - there’s only one room left for the night. You slap your credit card down on the counter before he can object. He’s Javy Machado. You know what he’s like better than almost anyone else. You may not like him very much, but you can read all of the signs. He’s not the type to let a woman pay for anything, not when he can pay for her. He can take it up with you when he’s not acting weird.

You push him into the shower once you’re in the room, content to just sprawl out on the bed until he’s done. Really, all you're hoping is that the hot water is enough to snap him out of this eerily quiet, angry mood and back to the pain in your ass you're used to. When he steps out, it’s wrapped in one of the motel’s paper-thin towels, and you have to avert your eyes. There’s just a shadow of a smirk on his face as you pass under his arm with all of your clothes bundled up against your chest, trying and failing to avoid making eye contact with all of his wet, glistening muscles. It takes you far too long for your brain to reboot after that sight, and mortification and anger are your companions as you hurriedly strip off your snow-laden clothes.

You’re grumbling the entire time it takes the shower to heat up because it is not fair that Javy Machado looks like that under his uniform. No wonder every girl within a ten-mile radius of base wants to get into his pants. You step into the shower nearly too early, stifling squeals as the too-cold water splatters across your skin. After a few minutes of determined shivering, you finally step under the warming water, coming out in a steady, roaring stream. At least it’s getting hot now, though it’s not as hot as you’d like. You let the spray beat your muscles into submission, relishing the first moment you’ve had by yourself since you left the carrier fleet hours ago. But you’re left in peace only for a few moments. Unbidden, your one-track mind finds its thoughts consumed by Javy Machado again. It starts off with an innocuous thought, “How did a man that large fit into this tiny shower? He could probably see over the curtain rod!” Then you’re wondering if he’s alright. But as your soapy hands trace over your skin, you start to imagine other things. 

You start to imagine water droplets sliding over the ridges of his muscles, skating over defined abs, and collecting in the dip of his collar bones. His hands are big and calloused as they lather soap across his skin and then over yours. Shit! When did you start dreaming of yourself in the shower with Javy Machado? There’s an ache in your pelvis as you clench your thighs together as you dream of how those calloused fingers feel on your skin. You get yanked violently out of the vision when the water goes cold on you. It feels like you’ve been immersed in one of the snowbanks outside. You almost fall as you step out of the shower, but it’s silent. Your face is flushed in the fogged-up mirror, your eyes fever bright as your blood pulses in your veins in the same rhythm as your aching cunt. You inhale and exhale raggedly, trying to get your libido under control. Please let there be a bar near Nat and Jake’s place - please - you need to get fucked so bad that you’re fantasizing about your wingman, of all people, now. 

It’s getting cold in the bathroom as the steam dissipates when you finally pull yourself together and get dressed fast in a bid to escape the cold. But it is still silent outside the bathroom - almost too silent. You expect laughter at the very least when you open the door because your warmest pajamas are covered in dancing penguins. Instead, Javy’s sitting on the bed, staring out the open window at the milling snow, looking for all the world like he’s lost something he’s just found.

It’s cold in the room, the motel’s shitty heating is barely able to combat the frigid snow outside, and he’s not wearing a shirt. But he doesn’t even notice the gooseflesh on the smooth, broad expanse of his back and chest. The cold blue light reflecting off of the snow piling up outside makes the room even colder, casting deep purplish shadows over his face and making the room eerie. You check that the door is latched and bolted before walking back towards Javy. He doesn’t move a muscle when you take his hands in your own. They’re like ice. He doesn’t even seem to care when you put the pillows down and fish one of your warm fleece blankets out of your bag. Bless Nat and Jake for not having a fully set up guest room yet because there’s no way you’re sleeping in this bed using sheets you’re not sure are clean. The blankets you brought are going to be perfect for the night. He doesn’t move or do anything until you intertwine your fingers with his own and tug on his arm's broad, burly expanse. He lists to the side without protest, and now you know something is wrong. Javy's not the type to do anything quietly. He's the type to shit-talk all the way while flirting endlessly. He turns towards you as you tuck the blanket around his big form, and when you move to pull another blanket out, his hand tugs you in until you’re in his arms.

The pinched furrow creasing his brow finally dissipates slightly. Something’s wrong, and you’re not sure what it is. If this helps, you’ll stay where you are. After all, you’ve slept in far more uncomfortable beds with much worse companions. Javy smells incredible, like soap, cologne, and something you can't place. You curl in closer despite yourself, letting him drag the blanket even further up around your shoulders. Everything is muffled around you. All you can hear is your breath and the soothing thud of his heart. It would be easy to curl in and fall asleep, but you can’t until you know your wingman is alright. But he seems content to lie there, brown eyes glittering with emotions you couldn’t read even if you tried. There’s barely any space between the two of you. Every breath you take has your chest brushing against his.

With the howling wind and the tink of snow against the window, you feel like you’re in a dream. Finally, Javy’s eyes close, even if he is still indescribably tense. You can feel it in the arms wrapped around you and in the muscles jumping in his jaw. His eyes fly open when your fingers trace the stressed tendons lightly.

“What’re you doing, Gypsy?” You’re unsure how to respond; instead, you trace your fingers over the furrow in his brow. Maybe your touch will wipe the stress frown away from his usually jovial face?

“You’re being awfully sweet, Gyppie.” You snort at the diminutive form of your already short callsign. “And here, I thought you hated me.”

Your gasp is barely audible, but you’re sure he can hear it anyway. “You never let it affect things between us when we fly, but I know you can’t stand me.”

“I’ve spent over a decade wondering why.” His next exhale is a harsh whoosh of breath. “But you’ve never told me, and right now, I think I know exactly why. It’s just me, isn’t it, Gyp? Just me and everything that I am.”

Your voice feels stuck. Trapped, lost, chained up behind a decade of hatred, hatred which wavers like it’s standing on a stool that may just have had all of its legs cut out from under it. You curl into Javy’s embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist like it’ll show him you feel differently. Because you do. At first, you had hated Javy Machado. You hated his effortless grace, charm, and ability to pick up concepts you’d had to work to understand yourself. But then he’d been persistent, and you’d been thrust into his company by the presence of Nat and Jake. 

That’s when you’d been able to see past the bravado, the mask he put on every day. That’s when you’d fallen headlong into a more profound and long-lasting crush than any relationship you’d found yourself in. But by the time you realized your feelings, he’d picked up on your stand-offish behavior and realized he couldn’t befriend you. Your crush never faded, but it’s evident that Javy had noticed your initial feelings and acted accordingly. But why would he blame everything that happened on himself?

“I know you’re probably wondering why I’m not home for the holidays right now.” What does that have to do with what he was just talking about? “Just chalk it up to another textbook case of me being myself.”

“I can't say I didn't wonder. But it's not my place to poke and pry. Why you're not heading home to Mama Machado is your business.”

“But you can't deny that you're curious, can you?” You shrug as much as you can with your arms wrapped around him.

“Of course you're curious. But how could I have gone home, Gyppie? How?” There's so much pain in his voice as he growls the words out.

He goes silent then, a frown creasing his face as his jaw moves under your fingertips. Your gentle touch doesn’t seem to bother him, just like the prickle of his stubble doesn’t bother you. In another world, in another life, could you have been sleeping every night in his arms like this? You’re not sure you deserve it. Javy was right earlier. You’ve been rude ever since the day you met him. Would anything have changed if you’d acted differently? If you’d been shy and withdrawn instead of angry and argumentative? That water’s long since flowed under the bridge. Too much time, too much history, too much animosity. All you can hope to do is listen. For your wingman, that’s the least you can do.

But your little nap in the car hadn’t been of much use. The longer you spend pressed against the human equivalent of a space heater, the sleepier you feel. You have to stay awake. This could be your one chance to go from rivals or enemies or colleagues to friends. Maybe you could even casually ask Javy to grab a beer after the holidays? But the first step to all of that is to stay awake.

His hands slide up until they're cradling the back of your head, pulling your face level to his own.

“You're not falling asleep on me, are you, Gyppie?” You shake your head wordlessly, captivated by how you can feel his breath against your lips, practically taste the mint from his toothpaste, and how you could kiss him if you leaned in just a bit further.

“It's okay if you do. You barely slept on the plane. My problems don't mean a thing in the face of your exhaustion.” Once again, you're speechless. How is he so selfless? How did you not notice before this very moment?

“I'm okay, Javy. Tell me one thing that's bothering you, the most important thing.” Your voice is the barest whisper, a sigh as he maneuvers you closer and traps your feet between his calves.

“Well, your feet are like itty-bitty ice cubes, Gyppie. The fuck did you do? Stick ‘em in a snowbank before you get into bed?” You gasp and growl playfully at him, pushing at his chest until he pulls you in even closer.

“But in all seriousness, you've been wondering why I didn't go home.” His words are expelled on exhales of breath, just as quiet as yours were earlier, spilling out in stops and starts. “I can't go home, Gyppie. My brother's wedding is on Christmas Day. But it's not that I'm against my brother's marriage. It's more like his fiancée is against having me there.”

You can’t believe anyone would go so far as to ban Javy from his brother's wedding just because she didn't want him there. You cup his jaw gently, letting your hand curl around to cradle the back of his in a position mirroring how he's still holding you.

“You want to know the kicker, Gyppie? She was my fiancée first. She dumped me because she couldn't stand the deployments and fell into bed with my brother days after.” 

“What a stupid thing to do.” You're no longer looking into his eyes, focused on his collarbones. “That was a dumb move, and you know it, Machado. She just alienated herself from most of your family. Your Mama first and foremost.”

His laughter has you giggling, too. When your laughter and his finally taper off, you're left to marvel at how much things have changed.

“You want to know the best part?” You hum in response. “The reason why we broke up was because I was already in love with someone else.”

He doesn’t wait for you to ask or even allow you a chance to get past your shock. His hands tip your head up again until you're face to face, and he kisses you, slow and sweet. Your moan takes you by surprise as you try to pull him even closer, letting him imprison you in his embrace.

“Fuck, this Christmas would've been so different if I'd just told you how much I loved you before we left flight school, Gyppie.” 

This time, you tug him in, kissing him slow and sweet until there's molten lava in your veins and there's snow in your mind. It's beginning to feel like a holly jolly Christmas indeed.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @footprintsinthesxnd @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32 @thedroneranger @cherrycola27

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #javy coyote machado x reader #javy machado x reader #coyote x reader #WinterRomComChallenge #'tis the damn season #gypsy x javy #the coyote and his gypsy #coyote x gypsy

[desert-fern]

(Holi)Day by Day - 1940s Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Fem!Reader (historical AU)

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Summary: After everything you and Bradley had gone through during the war, you both had scars (both mental and physical) and nothing seemed to remedy them better than each other. When the Christmas season comes around, the tree needs decorating, and maybe even a new tradition for you both.

Warnings: small flashbacks from the war in nightmare form (bombings, blood, death all mentioned but not described), a little self-doubt, lots of love and teasing, and other than that first bit of dark stuff, this is cute and fluffy!

Word Count: 4.8k

Author's Note: Welcome back to Roo and Rosie! This little oneshot was written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt “Home for the Holidays” and while I might not have hit the comedy part of a RomCom, I do hope that you won't be too disappointed in this. Also, this sweet little fic was inspired by Frank Sinatra's Day by Day (which is also the song they are dancing to at the start).

This can be read as a standalone or as a continuation of Ring Around my Rosie.

===

Day by day 

I'm falling more in love with you

And day by day 

My love seems to grow

There isn't any end to my devotion

Frank Sinatra’s voice crooned quietly from the small radio perched on the windowsill of yours and Bradley’s small apartment in Washington. The street below was noisy, with shopkeepers closing up for the night and night shift workers greeting one another as they met up. White snow blanketed the roofs and windowsills, giving the world an angelic sort of peacefulness as you swayed in your husband’s arms. Boots crunched on the sidewalk below, the sound crisp yet soft under footfalls that left tracks back and forth in the snow.

It hadn’t been easy, these passing months. Bradley was still serving as a Navy officer, choosing to follow this path that he had started on before the U.S. had entered the war. But for all his successes, you were stuck at home. Being married, wearing Bradley’s last name as your own and his mother’s ring on your left hand meant that no one would hire you, despite your skills developed overseas. 

Both of you struggled with shell shock, waking up in a cold sweat nearly every other night as your memories replayed the worst moments of both of your short lives. Bombs falling, the screams of men, blood, so much blood everywhere you both turned in these dream states. You had shot awake late the night before, feeling blood on your hands and got up quickly to wash your hands over and over again, trying to free yourself from the stickiness and coppery smell that always lingered no matter how hard you scrubbed. 

Bradley had found you in your small kitchen, scrubbing your hands while tears coursed down your cheeks and had gently turned the water off, mumbling a soft “Oh Rosie…” before pulling you into his arms. He held you tightly, letting his sleepy warmth envelop you and pull you from the horrors of your mind. “I’m here sweetheart. Ain’t never letting you go.” 

You had said nothing, your eyes staring unseeing out the small kitchen window at the frost clinging to the pane. Snowflakes dancing on the howling wind, but you hadn’t heard it. Not over Bradley’s heartbeat in your ears. He had coaxed you back to bed after a while, clutching your hand like he was afraid you would vanish if he let go while you both walked back to your cozy bedroom. “Dearest…” 

“I’m here.” Bradley’s soft voice murmured close to your head as you settled back under the covers. You had drawn a few shaky breaths and curled into his chest, letting a few more tears fall against his chest while Bradley’s strong arms wrapped around you. “I mean every word, Rosie Doll. I’m here.” 

And in his sleep-heavy voice, you believed every word. You had married him, knowing your own trauma and quickly realizing his own after the first few nights spent together. Bradley thrived on touch, choosing to curl into you or hold you to him whenever his demons crept up from the darkest parts of his mind. Even when his memories remained just that, he had a hand on you as often as he could. 

But for now, Bradley held you close, running a large hand up and down your back as he watched sleep claim you as snow whirled past the window. If he could take away everything, he would. His father’s words rattled around in his head as your breathing evened out, “When you love a woman, love her with everything you have.” 

Sleep snuck up on him, and before you both knew it, the alarm clock trilled and Bradley was slipping out of your bed to get ready for his work day. But he never left without waking you gently to murmur an “I love you” against your temple and kiss you sweetly before slipping out the door and making for the Navy Base nearby. 

Now though, now he was here with you, pressing loving kisses to your temple whenever he felt like it. You both were safe, warm, and wrapped up in each other’s embrace as the radio seemed to hum along to your gentle swaying circles around in the dwindling light from the kitchen window. 

“You never did answer me,” you said softly. “I asked you how your day went.”

Bradley hummed noncommittedly. “Better now that I’m here, Rosie doll.” Even now, after nearly a year of marriage, he still was as big a flirt as he had been when the two of you had first met. “But, I do have news. Good news.” 

Pulling back a little to look up at his face, you had to smile as you took in his closed eyes. Bradley looked so content in this moment, like the neighbour’s cat Spot when he curled up in the sunlight down on the street below. For a minute, you could imagine that the two of you hadn’t met in the midst of a brutal conflict as he swayed your bodies gently to and fro in time with the man crooning over the tinny device. “And? What sort of news?” 

“So nosy, my sweet Rosie,” Bradley teased, shooting you a wink as his mouth widened in a boyish grin, the one that quirked his mustache up a little each time. “I ought to make you wait now.” 

“Bradley William Edward Bradshaw,” you began, trying for unamused but you knew your tone betrayed you. “Tell me this instant. If I need to bake up your mother’s shortbread for your big news, I need to know.” 

He shook his head at you, the grin only growing wider as seconds passed. “And what if I wanted your mother’s awful fruitcake instead?”

You shot him an unimpressed look. “Bradley, dearest, that recipe is older than us both combined. It was my grandmother’s pride and joy during the holidays.” 

A quiet chuckle bubbled in his chest. “I know doll, I know. I’m just teasin’. I’ll tell ya the news.” Bradley pulled you back into his arms, smiling as he felt you sigh into his shirt when you relaxed into his arms. “Bossman says that I could be promoted in the next round if I keep performin’ the way I am now.” 

You stiffened in his arms, coming to a standstill. “Promoted? Bradley, that’s wonderful!” A quick glance up had you sealing your lips to his and kissing him deeply. “I’m so proud, my dearest.” 

“All thanks to your love and cooking, Mrs. Bradshaw.” And God help you if your knees didn’t weaken at his words. The pride in both his whiskey-brown eyes shone down on you and his tone, his tone only served to make you more flustered. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Certain that your cheeks were as red as the flower he called you, you turned away shyly. “Oh come now. A few meals doesn’t equate the hard work you’ve been putting in.” 

“Nonsense!” Catching your chin and directing your face back to him, Bradley continued “Without those meals and the incredible woman waiting on me back here in OUR home, I wouldn’t be nearly half as successful. So, Rosie. You were instrumental in this.” 

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Alright then, Mr. Bradshaw. Maybe I did help a little.” His thumb traced gently along your cheekbone, and you leaned softly into his touch. 

“That’s my girl,” he praised, leaning down to kiss you once more. “I won’t stand to have you go unappreciated, you hear?”

You found your hand creeping around the back of his neck and toying with the fine hairs at the base of it, wondering at how you had gotten so lucky to have this man, this gentle, kind, loving man. 

It's deeper dear by far 

Than any ocean

I find that day by day 

You're making all my dreams come true

Bradley had become everything you were unknowingly looking for. As much as you hated everything that had transpired for the two of you to meet, you had to admit that the stolen moments between the two of you during the war had given you a hope you had both been lacking. 

So come what may 

I want you to know

I'm yours alone 

So as Bradley spun you gently, you hummed in response. “I suppose not.” The music changed, joyfully opening Nat King Cole’s Joy to the World, and trumpets kicked in jovially, startling your husband to the point he grabbed you tightly and pulled you to him like he was trying to protect you from some unseen enemy. 

He chuckled awkwardly, letting go of his tight grip on your hip and shoulder. “Sorry Rosie honey, damn trumpets scared the wits out of me.” But despite the smile plastered on his face, you saw the haunted look in his eyes, the same one that crept into your own on occasion. “Didn’t mean to give you a fright.” 

Instead of replying, you rose on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “No harm done, dearest.” In these moments, all you could do was offer your presence like he did for you. The time spent together during the war had been far removed from the realities the two of you had faced apart and now, standing barefoot on the cool living room floor, you couldn’t have pictured your life now. 

“Rosie… I’m not… perfect. I still… ya know. I barely sleep through the night, I can’t hold my wife in my arms and dance to her favorite Christmas song because the trumpets startle me every time. Why…?” 

You gave him a firm look, stilling in your movement. “None of that. You hold nothing against me, dearest. Not even my most insane moments. Why on God’s green Earth would I do the same to you?” The words poured from your lips like a fountain, racing free and refusing to let you breathe. They had choked you from the moment Bradley had pulled back, freezing like he expected to find himself curled in a foxhole, fighting for his life. “I married you. I knew you weren’t a perfect man, but you were perfect for me, and that’s all that matters. Do you hear me?” 

He nodded, pulling you into a hug and buried his face in your neck. You could feel tears pouring down his cheeks, his shoulders shaking as he cried. Saying nothing, you let your eyes fall closed, running a gentle hand up and down his back, trying to soothe him. “I love you,” you murmured softly. “My handsome sailor, so strong and brave. You saved me.” 

You weren’t sure how long you stood like that, only that a few songs had started and ended. Bradley’s neck and back had to be hurting him, but he was content to stay in your arms, hiding from the world. Eventually, he pulled back, wiping his eyes with a shy look. “Thank you,” he muttered, his voice raspy. “I needed that.” 

The two of you were a few inches apart, chests nearly touching, yet unlike the last minutes, hours, you weren’t touching. “I know.” The words were soft, like saying them any louder would shatter the bubble around you, like they would let in the darkness. “I married you, Bradley Bradshaw, don’t you dare tell me that I made a mistake taking your name and your mother’s ring.” 

He grinned at you, the previous moment’s sorrow seemingly falling to the wayside. “Yes ma’am. Now, do I get my mother’s shortbread or not?” 

You swatted his chest, hiding your smile. “If you don’t get out of my kitchen, then you won’t get anything,” you teased, moving out of his grabbing hands and further into the room, hissing as your feet touched the cold floor. 

“Is that so, my Rosie?” You could hear the grin in his voice, knowing that it was all over his face without even having to turn around to face your husband. “Your kitchen, your house, anything else you want to label as yours?” 

Spinning around, your hands on your hips, you faced him and rolled your eyes at his antics. “I believe I did a year ago when I married you. Isn’t that right, my husband?” The fondness in your voice betrayed the sharp look you were trying and failing to muster up. 

Bradley stepped forwards, crowding you. “I will never cease to love hearing you say those words, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he whispered lowly, pecking the side of your mouth before pulling away and meandering into the small living room. “Need any help with the tree, doll?” 

Drawing a deep breath, you brushed your hands over your apron, taking a minute to collect yourself. “I think I have it under control, dearest,” you told him, coming around the corner to see him elbow deep in the crate of Christmas decorations that you and he had collected from your families. “Unless you want to get started while I start with the shortbread?” 

“Rosie, honey. We just finished dinner and I had to fight you to let me help with the dishes. Take the apron off and let’s decorate the tree, okay?” Bradley wheedled, gently placing the tree angel on the table before making his way to you and taking your hands in his own. “Please doll? Who knows if I’ll be home next Christmas and I don’t want to start without you.” 

“Alright, alright, but I’m making tea before I do anything else.” Under his brown-eyed stare, now shining like the colour of good ale, you were helpless to resist. 

The smile Bradley gave you was so full of happiness that you couldn’t help but smile too. So, minutes later, when you emerged from the kitchen yet again with two cups of tea and you found your husband tangled up in a garland that had to have been your mother’s given the shade of red, you had to laugh. “Bradley! What in the world…?” 

“Sorry Rosie, got a little caught up in the excitement.” The grin he shot you was sheepish and you burst out laughing at the sight. “Okay, come on. Quit your cackling, neighbours are gonna think it’s Halloween not Christmas if you keep that up.” 

Setting the teacups down, you pressed a hand to your mouth, shoulders shaking as you stifled your laughter. Bradley had somehow looped the garland around his neck and shoulder, pinning his arms to his sides as he tried to glare in your direction. “How in the…. You really tied yourself up tighter than a Christmas goose, didn’t you dearest?” 

Bradley snorted, the sound so undignified and unexpected that it startled a snort of your own to escape through your hands. “Okay, okay. I know, I look ridiculous.” 

“Only a little, dearest. Let me help you,” you replied, trying your best to look sympathetic to his obvious plight. You began to unwind the garland from his arms, smiling to yourself as you watched yourself in his brown eyes. A combination of love and embarrassment seeped out of him and you hummed along to the brass band playing from the radio, trying to keep your mind from wandering. 

A few minutes passed, the room filled with little more than the faint music and the sound of your’s and Bradley’s gentle breathing. Then you found the loop of the knot and gave it a pull. The garland fluttered to the floor, landing with a soft ‘thump’. “There we are,” you said softly, stooping to pick it up. “Finally free. Now to put it on the tree where it belongs.”

Bradley’s hand on your hip stopped you in your tracks. “Rosie…”

“Yes, my love?” 

“Thank you,” he whispered, lips brushing against the skin of your cheek. “For freeing me, for loving me. For everything…”

You turned into his touch, leaning up on your toes to kiss him sweetly. “You needn’t thank me for something so simple, Bradley. Thank me when it becomes a chore to do something so simple, which will never be.” A brush of your fingers against his forehead, moving his hair, had him melting into your touch, sighing softly. “Now, let us decorate the tree.” 

Bradley nodded, smiling down at you. You had so easily become the best part of his life, then again, you two had met in the middle of one of the biggest conflicts the world had ever seen. But beyond that, you gave him a reason to smile, filled his heart and your home with light even when it felt like the dark was closing in. He appreciated you more than you could ever realize and he had known the minute he proposed that you were the very balm to his jagged soul. 

The softness in your touch despite horrors unseen stunned him at every opportunity and if he had the chance, he would marry you all over again, if only to see the love in his own eyes mirrored in your once more. 

“But,” Bradley said to himself. “All I have to do is meet her eyes now. She loves me for me, not in spite of my demons.” 

“Bradley?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Can you help me?” He snapped out of his head, finding you on your tiptoes, trying to string the rest of the garland through the tree branches, but failing because you couldn’t reach. “You bought another damn tree that is too tall for me to do it on my own.” 

 “Maybe I want you to ask me for help,” he replied, smiling at you. “Maybe I should start putting things on the higher shelves if only so you would ask.”

You dropped the garland in your hands, glaring at him in the most mocking way. “Bradley Bradshaw. You wouldn’t.” 

“Would too,” he replied with a wide grin. “I know you can do it, but I always want to help.” 

“Here.” You handed him the end of the red ribbon. “Work your magic on those upper branches and I will start on the bows.” You had intentionally ignored his last statement, doing your best to maintain a straight face, but his words had turned your spine to liquid and you fought the urge to swoon. 

“As you wish, Rosie,” Bradley said with a wink in your direction, beginning to effortlessly weave the garland through the top boughs all while you stood ramrod straight like a doctor was chewing you out. The only difference was the warmth in your cheeks was from the flirtatious nature of your husband rather than shame at a perceived error in care. 

Red bows in hand, you began to tie them to the green boughs, smirking when an idea popped into your head. As gently as you could manage, you brought a bow up, tying it to the belt loop of his pants as quickly as you could. You continued in this pattern, one for the tree branches, another added to the now impressive collection of red bows around Bradley’s hips. 

You were being as quiet as you could, but giggles still escaped you when you went back to the crate full of decorations. What you didn’t know however, was that Bradley had noticed your little prank almost immediately. 

His focus on your soft humming to Glen Miller had been broken when you stopped suddenly. One look down and he saw a bright red bow tied to his trousers, all the while, your shoulders were shaking with silent giggles. Bradley had elected to ignore it, trying to see if you would give yourself away, but you never did. 

“Rosie…” he began, turning to face your back as you grabbed the last of the bows. “Why do I have bows all over me?” 

A giggle broke free as you faced him. “I don’t know, dearest.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you, humor glinting in his eyes. “Is that so? You have no idea?” 

“Not the foggiest, my love. Perhaps some elves snuck in and decided that you were worthy of being under the tree.” You shrugged, a grin playing on your lips as you approached him. “I can’t say I blame them either.” 

Bradley reached out, grabbing you by the hips. “That’s my line, Rosie doll,” he chided in a teasing tone. “If you wanted me that badly, all you had to do was ask.” 

Heat spread from your face down your neck and up to your ears under his cocky smile. “The tree is half-done, Bradley. Let’s finish that first before we get distracted by… other things,” you tried to compromise. 

“Sure thing, doll. But first,” Bradley leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. You gasped against his mouth, hands balling up his shirt as he pulled you closer. His tongue mingled with yours and you seemed to fall into him, surrendering the kiss to him and letting him take control. 

When he did pull away, he was pleased by the haziness of your eyes and the redness of your lips. You stammered a little before snatching one of the bows from his waistband and set it atop his head. “There. Now you are ready,” you said with a wide smile. “The only gift I need.” 

Bradley laughed, shaking his head at your antics. “You call me a flirt and a tease nearly every day, Rosie… are you trying to take that from me?” 

You shook your head, still smiling widely. “No. I just… I can’t help it. Maybe the Christmas spirit is infectious and I caught it from the Hilsmans and their obnoxious lights display?” The smile only grew when he bent down to kiss you sweetly, your eyes fluttering in the softness of the gesture. 

“Come now. As you said, the tree is only half done. It won’t match the goddamn Hilsmans and those lights so bright they would blind the damn Air Force if they flew over the block, but it’s just us,” he hummed, pulling a bow from his trousers and tying it to the boughs overhead. 

The two of you worked quickly, the gentle silence broken only by the crooning of Bing Crosby as he sang about a winter wonderland and snowmen. It added to the warmth in your heart and your eyes as they were drawn over and over again to your husband, who was fixing a small bell to the highest branch he could. 

Side by side in the warmth of your apartment, you both finished the tree shortly. As you stepped back from the tree to admire your handiwork, you felt Bradley’s hand on the small of your back, the heat from his palm warming through the fabric of your shirt. “Rosie,” he began, smiling down at the little angel in his other hand. “My folks had this tradition of sorts…”

“Oh? And what was it?” You ask softly, turning into his side. The heat from his body sunk into your skin, wrapping you in an embrace. “Why didn’t we do it last year?” 

Bradley swallowed and you could tell that he was fighting tears as he looked at the small tree topper. “My pop used to… he used to lift my mama up every Christmas while they were putting the tree together, joking about how she was the real angel and should be on top of the tree, not this little thing,” he chuckled wetly as he looked at you. “Figured we could keep that tradition going if you wanted, Rosie.” 

“Oh Bradley…” You soothed, squeezing his arm gently. “That sounds like the sweetest tradition.” 

He sniffed, nodding as he met your eyes. “It really was. I always told myself that if I were ever lucky enough to find someone I loved as much as they loved each other, that I… well, ya know…” 

“You wanted to keep their love alive,” you finished softly. “I’d be happy to continue that tradition, Bradley. It sounds just lovely.” And you meant it. From everything you had heard about Nicholas Bradshaw, or as he had been known to friends, Nick, it sounded exactly like something he would do. “Come on, let’s get that angel on the tree and then I’ll make us some tea that isn’t cold.” 

Bradley handed you the cloth small angel, no bigger than six or seven inches tall, dressed in white with hair made of yellow thread. You cradled it gently, tracing over the dress with a soft touch. “Pops always said that it looked like my mama, it was the reason he started the joke in the first place. I asked him about putting the angel on the tree and he lifted up my mama like she weighed nothing. He asked me if I wanted to help put her on top of the tree. I laughed and laughed, I had never heard anything so funny…” He trailed off, looking wistfully at the tree before you both. “I remember telling him that that was mama not the angel and he just got this look on his face… told me to grab the angel and give it to her so that our angel could stay with us and the tree had the fake one. It never failed to make her smile…” 

“That’s beautiful, dearest,” you hummed, glancing up at him. “Your parents sounded like they had so much love to give, Bradley. Just like you do. And while I might not necessarily look like this angel here, why don’t we fool Heaven a few days longer, hmm?” 

The look Bradley gave you was so full of gratitude that you swore he nearly fell over. “Yeah?” He asked, scarcely able to believe what he heard. This was something so unique, so personal, something that he was convinced that he would never be able to find outside his parents. The tradition had been something he had only ever heard of from his parents and here you were, so open to accepting this tradition as one of your own without hesitation. 

“Of course. It means this much to you, I would be a horrid, evil little troll if I said no. Not that I ever would, because it is such a beautiful idea and something that is a part of the Bradshaw name,” you replied, a small smile adorning your features. “And this ring on my finger made me one of your small, but very loving, kind, and gentle clan. I would be honored to continue this with you.” 

Fingers brushed against your cheek, gently tipping your head up to face your husband. His whiskey eyes shimmered with unshed tears, a furrow had seemed to take over his brow, one that you quickly smoothed over with a gentle touch. He leaned into your hand, his eyes falling shut while he tried to rein in his grief. “Bradley… shall we?” 

“Hmm?” he answered in a broken voice. “Yeah Rosie, let’s put my angel on the tree.” His hands found your hips, spinning you around and lifting you up high enough to jokingly put you on the tree. 

A giggle fell from your lips before you could stop it and Bradley lowered you back down, the angel still in your hands, while you shook in his arms. “I’m sorry,” you breathed. “I couldn’t help it.” 

Bradley smiled at you, the tears in his eyes receding a little. “I know, but my mama always laughed too, so it’s perfect. One more time?” 

You nodded and up you went once more, but this time, you stretched your arm out, gingerly placing the angel on top of the tree. A tap to his arm had him lowering you back to the ground, and when your feet touched the floor, you surged forward, wrapping in your arms with a soft “thank you.”

“What’re you thanking me for, Rosie doll? I should be thanking you.” 

“Thank you for letting me be a part of this, Bradley. Your family is just lovely and I love that I can keep their memories alive,” you whispered. 

Bradley didn’t say anything, just let himself be wrapped in your embrace all the while looking up at the angel sitting atop your tree. This wouldn’t be the last time this tradition would be done, all thanks to you. So while Ella Fitzgerald sang about Santa Claus, Bradley held you close and began to sway under the watchful eye of the angel and for a moment, he swore she smiled at the sight. 

His love for you grew three sizes that day, and Bradley knew that without a doubt you were the reason his life was as good as it was. You, his Rosie, had brought him back, piece by piece and he never wanted to leave you. 

He was yours forever, never once wavering in his devotion to you. The reason his house became a home during the holidays.  

And I'm in love to stay

As we go through the years 

Day by day

===

A/N: Hey all! Hope you enjoyed this latest instalment of Roo and Rosie. Big thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 for kicking my butt a little and making sure that this wasn’t complete garbage and thank you to @sarahsmi13s for being so incredible when it comes to these two!

Tagging: @horseshoegirl @teacupsandtopgun @footprintsinthesxnd @dakotakazansky @roosterforme @cherrycola27

#WinterRomComChallenge #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #wwii au #(holi)day by day #winter fics #top gun maverick #historical au #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic

[roosterforme]

Brighter Than a Supernova | Bob Floyd x Phoenix's Little Sister

Summary: Bob planned to simply stop by Phoenix's Hanukkah party for a few minutes before heading back home. He'd hang out with the guys for a bit, even though he never quite felt like he fit in with them, and he'd meet the little sister Phoenix often referred to as annoying. But he had no idea how bright and magical one night could be compared to every other night that had come before.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, feeling insecure, loss of virginity, smut, drinking

Length: 9000 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Phoenix's Little Sister (OC)

This was written for the Winter RomCom Challenge hosted by @bellaireland1981! Check my masterlist for more. Beautiful banner made by @ryebecca

"Bob, you're coming over tomorrow night, right?"

When he turned to look at his friend, Bob couldn't help the feeling of apprehension that washed over him. "I think so."

Natasha sighed and reached for his hand and gave him a little squeeze. He hadn't been at Top Gun as long as everyone else, and he felt like he didn't really fit in with them. Even now, the other guys were all hooting and playing keep away with Reuben's phone while Bob stood off to the side on the tarmac. 

"There's nothing to be nervous about. It's just a Hanukkah party," she whispered with a smile. She always seemed to be able to tell when he got lost in his own thoughts, and he would be forever grateful that she was the pilot he got to fly with. 

He shook his head and looked over at their Super Hornet. "I've never been to one before," he muttered. "And I'll probably just end up sitting quietly all night."

Now Natasha was squeezing both of his hands. "But we already drew names for our gift exchange. And you won't be the only one newer to the group. My obnoxious little sister, Nova, is coming in from New York, remember? She's graduating from college in the spring? She hasn't met any of the guys yet."

"But-"

"Bob, I really want you to come," she said firmly, looking up at him with her dark brown eyes. He trusted her in the air, he might as well trust her on the ground, too. 

"Okay. I'll be there."

But when Bob parked his truck in front of Phoenix's tiny house on Saturday evening, his hands were shaking slightly as he held the wrapped gift. He absolutely hated that he got this way around the guys. They hadn't done anything to make him feel this way, really. He just generally didn't fit in anywhere, something he was very aware of at age twenty eight. But he would do this for Natasha. 

He climbed out of his truck with the gift and a bottle of wine and walked up to the front door. Should he knock? Or just walk inside? It sounded noisy even out here, so after he tapped on the door a few times and nobody opened it, he just let himself in.

"Bob's here!" Jake called out from the couch, waving him over to where he was drinking a beer while Javy tried to spin two dreidels at the same time.  

"Bob!" Natasha practically shouted as she ran his way. He had to juggle the bottle of wine so he didn't drop it. "Can you help me make latkes? Nova and I have been peeling potatoes for what feels like hours, and now we're heating up the oil."

"I don't know how to make latkes," he told her, but his eyes caught on the woman standing in the kitchen laughing at Bradley. He could only see her profile, but she had long, dark brown hair just like Natasha. Only she was a little taller and a bit curvier, and when she turned to look over her shoulder, he wanted to run and hide. 

"It's easy, Bob. It's just a potato pancake. Nothing scary," Natasha whispered, trying to sound reassuring. "Come meet Nova, and you can help us cook."

He swallowed hard, realizing that the brunette goddess holding a potato peeler in one while she smiled directly at him was Natasha's little sister. The one she always referred to as obnoxious and annoying. This was... decidedly not what he had imagined. 

Bob didn't know where to look. Every part of her was so pretty. She was wearing black leggings and a cropped long sleeve shirt that was purple and said NYU on the front. He could see some of the soft looking skin just above her leggings, and his eyes dropped to the floor in embarrassment. She was barefoot with neon orange painted toenails that for some reason made Bob a little short of breath.

"Bob, this is my sister Nova," Nat told him, rubbing his back gently as his gaze wandered back up along her curves. His eyes landed on her face as Natasha said, "Nova, this is Bob. Please don't annoy him."

"Hi," she said with a little smirk on her face. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and reached her hand out to him. "I've heard a lot about you, Bob."

He was terrified that he would stutter or trip over his words, but he just said something stupid instead. "You don't look annoying."

She laughed as she shook his hand. "Oh, I can assure you, I am." Her eyes were the same color as her sister's, but they were looking at him playfully as she nibbled on her lip. It was easy to tell Nova and Natasha were sisters, but there were some differences, too. Bob had the fleeting thought that he wouldn't mind just looking at her all night until he identified them all. 

"Feel free to ignore her," Nat told him as she went to stand in front of the stove. "I usually do."

"I don't see how that would be possible," Bob murmured, and Nova laughed again before he realized what he'd said. He could feel his cheeks flush as he tried to look at anything besides her, but as soon as he did, Bradley dove for her attention. 

"So tell me all about New York CIty," he said as if he'd never heard of it before. This was fine though. Better even. Nova and Bradley could just flirt all night, and Bob could help cook and then probably leave soon. That way everyone would win. 

After a few minutes, he desperately wanted to ask Natasha if they could cook any faster so he could open his impersonal gift from one of the guys and get going. But he found that making latkes was actually pretty enjoyable. 

"That's too much egg," she told him, laughing at his messy hands as his glasses slid down his nose. "You need more flour." But her hands were a mess, too, and Bob was trying to adjust his glasses on his shoulder. 

When he turned to the side, he saw Bradley, Mickey and Jake all talking to Nova, but she was actually looking right at him as he very awkwardly shrugged his shoulder against his glasses. "I got you, Bob," she said, closing the distance to him and helping him out. She adjusted his frames on his face, and then she ran her fingers along his hair and behind his ears. "Better?"

He watched her pull her hands away and wished she wouldn't. "Yes," he whispered. "Thank you." Then he just stared at her as she made no move to back away. 

"You're welcome. Do you celebrate Hanukkah?"

He swallowed hard as he washed his hands and shook his head. "This is my... first time."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh! Perfect! You can help me light the candles, and I can teach you the prayers."

"Might as well light the menorah now," Natasha told her as she flipped some of the squishy looking potato blobs over in the hot oil. The kitchen smelled like fried food, and there was a huge box of donuts that the other guys already got into. Javy brought the dreidels into the kitchen, and he was currently spinning five at one time. This holiday actually didn't seem so bad. Especially when Nova reached for his hand. 

"Gather around," she announced with the kind of confidence Bob would never have, and all the guys followed her to the other side of the island. But she kept Bob right there with her and smiled up at him. "Here you go," she said, handing him the lighter. Then she stuck some candles in the menorah. 

"Don't you light them from left to right?" Bradley asked as he sipped a beer and ate a jelly donut while glaring at Bob.

"Yes!" she replied as she put the last candle in for the eighth night. 

"You want me to light them for you, Bob?" Bradley asked, and Bob was just about to hand the lighter over when Nova reached for his hand.

"I'm going to say a really pretty prayer in Hebrew about how Hanukkah is a time to celebrate miracles," she told him, seemingly ignoring the rest of the guys as Jake started whining that he was hungry. But Bob was transfixed. He was suddenly dying to hear this prayer. He could see the light smattering of freckles on Nova's cheeks as he stood this close to her. He never noticed before if Nat had freckles.

It would be a Hanukkah miracle if Bob could get through the evening. When she told him to light the center candle and then pick it up, he did. And then her hand joined his as they lit the candles together, but Bob wasn't looking at the menorah. He was looking at her face and the way her lips moved as she almost sang the prayer. Then he kept his hand on hers as long as he could, the warm candlelight making her face glow. 

When she dropped her hand to her side, Bob could feel her fingers kind of tangle with his, and he had no idea what to do about it. He was suddenly painfully aware that he'd never had a girlfriend before, and he almost wished she was paying this much attention to someone else. 

"Latkes are done!" Natasha announced, and Bob took a step away from Nova. He cleared his throat and then turned to leave the kitchen as everyone else made a dash for the food. When he retreated for the relative quiet of the powder room, he could feel dark eyes on his back.

Bob realized he'd been in the bathroom for long enough that someone might think he was sick, but he couldn't stop splashing cool water on his face. He had been prepared for something else tonight, but not this. Maybe Nova was just an annoying little sister to Phoenix, but to him, she was exquisite. He needed to leave now before he could embarrass himself more. 

After he dried his hands, he quietly opened the door, but then he paused. He could hear voices. Two female voices, and he could easily tell them apart as he stood there eavesdropping.

"Natasha, you lied to me," Nova whispered loudly. "You said Bob was kind of nerdy!"

Oh no. She must have thought Bob was extremely nerdy. Perhaps he could make a run for the front door, and maybe nobody would notice he'd gone.

"I mean, he is," Natasha replied softly. 

"No, he's not!" Nova hissed. "He's hot! You know I have a thing for glasses and biceps, you rotten liar!"

Now Bob was frozen in place. He was pretty sure they were talking about him, but there was a chance he misheard.

"Nova," Natasha snapped a little louder this time. "Bob is one of my best friends, and he's very kind. Do not toy with him."

There was a pause, but then Bob heard her soft response. "I wouldn't. You can tell how sweet he is from a mile away."

He looked in the mirror one more time before leaving the powder room. It wasn't that he was bad looking, it was just that he was awkward. Compared to the other guys, he was a joke. Maybe Nova somehow hadn't noticed that yet. He forced himself out to the small hallway where the two sisters were standing close together near the kitchen, and the way Nova looked at him just didn't make sense. 

"Grab some latkes," she said as he walked past. "I'll save you a spot on the couch for the gift exchange?"

Bob swallowed hard. "Sure. Thank you."

When he ducked into the kitchen, he heard her whisper to Nat, "He has nice manners, too."

Nat groaned. "I can't believe you have a crush on my WSO."

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have kept this information from me."

Bob was anxiously piling a plate with more latkes than he could probably finish when Nova flounced into the room, picked up her half empty glass of wine along with an unused one and winked at him. "I'll be in the living room, and I have a glass for you," she said.

He looked down at the potato concoctions on his plate, and they looked good. He tried a bite, and it was delicious, but he'd lost his appetite. Nova Trace had a crush on him, and now he had to go sit with her and drink some wine without looking like a moron. 

After a few more bites, he pushed his plate aside and headed to the living room where she was sitting right next to Bradley. He had his arm draped across the back of the couch a little possessively, and Bob froze, blinking at the scene before him. He had the undeniable urge to remove Bradley's arm and wrap her up with own. 

"Bob," she called, scooting away from Bradley and patting the cushion. Once he squeezed in between her and Bradley, he realized he was touching her no matter what he did. And then she took his arm and draped it around her shoulders, leaning back against his chest a little bit. "It's a tight fit," she said, handing him a glass of wine. 

"Seriously?" Bradley grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. Bob wasn't sure what to say as he had an armful of the cute girl who was in demand. This was all new to him. So he just drank all of his wine and pretended to watch everyone open their gifts. 

When he set his empty glass down on the table, Nat handed him a small box wrapped in silver paper. He didn't recognize the pretty handwriting that said To: Bob.

"Oh," Nova whispered, reaching for it. "You don't have to open it."

"It's from you?" Bob asked, and she looked up at him over her shoulder, face just inches from his.

"Yeah, but it just seems kind of dumb now," she muttered, playing with the hem of her top. "Nat made it seem like you were super nerdy or something," she laughed. "And clearly that's not the case. You're hot."

Bob chuckled; this whole entire night was completely absurd. "I've never been called hot before."

Nova rolled her eyes. "You know what? Just go ahead and open your present," she said, shoving the small box closer to his chest while she blushed. 

Bob started to carefully tear into the paper when Bradley leaned across Bob and asked, "I'm sorry, Nova, but did you just call Bob hot?"

"Yes," she replied immediately. 

Bradley stood and grunted while he put on the hat that Javy just gave him that said 100% Certified Fuckboy. "She picked Bob. Nice work man," he said, patting Bob's shoulder. "Who needs a beer?"

"I do," Nat told him as she eyed Bob and Nova together on the couch with curiosity. Bob wasn't sure what he should even say to her. It wasn't like he was going to date her sister or something. She lived in New York.

"Open it," Nova whispered. "Just open it so I can get my embarrassment over with."

Bob couldn't believe she seemed more embarrassed about the gift than she did about announcing to the room at large that she found him attractive. When he took the lid off the box and looked inside, it was filled with a set of sky blue dice. 

"I'm sorry," she said with a laugh. "Nat said you play Dungeons and Dragons, and I found the dice and thought they were pretty, and now I'm noticing that they're kind of the same shade as your eyes." She took the box from him, put the lid on and set it aside.

"Wait," he said, reaching across her to pick it up again. "I do play. And light blue is my favorite color. How did you know?"

"I didn't," she said, cheeks pink. "It's my favorite color, too."

He could see her freckles again as she grinned so close to him. Bob suddenly realized that the living room was getting loud as he held the box between his body and hers. "Thank you. I really like them. I was a little afraid to see what the guys were going to buy for me, so I'm glad it was from you."

"Nat dropped down on the couch on the other side of Bob as she spun the keychain around her finger that Bob got for her. "Thank you," she said, kissing him on the cheek as the airplane charm hit her palm. The guys were spinning as many dreidels on the coffee table as they could while fighting over the mound of chocolate candy coins. "You know, if it's a little too loud, you could always step outside for a minute," she told him, patting his thigh before joining the guys. 

"Let's take a break," Nova said as she stood and pulled him to his feet. Bob felt like Nat had just given him some sort of permission. But for what? "I could use a break as well. It's hot in here." 

She opened the front door and slipped out into the darkness on the small porch, and Bob joined her, closing the door and stifling the sounds inside. "Aren't your feet going to get cold?" he asked softly, looking down at her neon toenails.

"Good call," she replied before wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on the tops of his shoes. Bob's hands went to the soft curve of her waist immediately, startled by the sudden turn of events that had Nova's body pressed to his. "Is this okay?" she asked casually, looking up at him as she let her fingers trail down his neck.

His body was throbbing in delight as his brain cried out in terror. "Y-Yes. It's... very okay. You're very pretty." His eyes went wide as she laughed, and it sounded too intimate this close. He could feel her bare skin against his fingertips, and it was so soft. Softer than anything. He couldn't help the way he let his palms spread out on her back, as he blurted out, "I like you."

He noticed her soft smile first, and then her eyes closed. Bob was admiring how her eyelashes brushed her cheeks as she said, "I like you, too." And then she kissed him. She just kissed him. It was suddenly time for kissing. And then it was over before Bob really got to enjoy it. Nova was looking up at him like she was trying to gauge his reaction, but he just stood there trying to figure out what to do next. 

Her fingers stilled on his neck before she released him and tried to step away, her face falling into a much shyer look. But he kept his hands on her back. Her lips were softly parted, and Bob wanted them on his again. Even though he wasn't quite sure if he was doing any of it right, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers a little too hard at first. 

She moaned softly as she brought her hands back up around his neck, and Bob eased himself back a little bit, making the kiss softer. This felt good. She had smooth skin and eager lips, and now her fingers were in his hair as her cheek bumped his glasses. He felt like he was getting the hang of things when she parted her lips and tasted his tongue. 

Bob's hands slid down to grab at her hips through her leggings, and Nova laughed softly as she tasted him again. The soft vibrations against his lips had him more aware of his body than he ever had been before, but not in a bad way. He seemed to be making her feel excited as she wiggled her curvy hips back and forth slightly in his hands. 

Nova broke the kiss and raked her fingers along his forehead and back through his tidy hair. "You smell good," she told him, leaning in close again and running her nose along his neck. "Like... something outdoorsy mixed with a fried potato."

He couldn't help but laugh as she kissed the spot next to his Adam's apple. "That sounds like it would smell bad."

"It doesn't," she reassured him with a giggle. "It just makes me want to taste you." Bob had to press his lips together and count to ten in his head as Nova ran her tongue in a slow and steady stripe up his neck to his ear. When her lips met his earlobe, his hands on her hips were pulling her body closer to his as she said, "I could eat you up."

She was still standing on the tops of his feet, but now Bob had her back pressed against the doorframe. They were making out, and it was all coming pretty naturally for him. She kissed his neck and told him something sweet, so he decided to go ahead and try the same thing. "I think I love kissing you," he said, his voice raspier than normal as she tipped her head back.

Nova was moaning his name as he kissed the front of her neck, and she pressed her thigh against him. And oh no... Bob had an erection. She didn't seem bothered, but he pulled himself a few inches away from her and looked down at her pretty face. "Do you want to go back inside?" she asked, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. 

"Should we?" he asked softly, sliding his hands back up to her waist as she shrugged. 

"Probably. But I'm sure they all know exactly what we're doing out here."

His eyes went wide. "They do?"

She smiled and ran her fingers along his cheek. "Yeah, I'd venture to guess they know we were making out, Bob."

How was he supposed to go back inside now? He thought about just leaving; his truck was parked right there on the street. But he didn't want to go without his new dice. Or Nova.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah... maybe we should go back in."

"Okay." But first she wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and pressed one more soft kiss to his lips. "Just let me know if you want to take another break, because I'd be more than happy to tag along."

Then she opened the door, and the bright light and loud laughter coming from inside were enough to have him reaching for Nova's hand as she stepped down from his feet and onto the living room floor. She looked back at him with a coy smile as she laced her fingers with his. It was so obvious that they had been kissing. Bob knew he was blushing, and her lips looked a little puffy from the way he'd been enjoying them. When Jake fist bumped him as they walked past, Javy winked, and Bradley was on the couch with Nat pouting. 

But Nat smiled and shook her head as Nova led Bob into the kitchen. "Want some more wine?" she asked, pulling a bottle from the refrigerator. There was something about the way she looked in the semi darkness as the candles from the menorah burned low. Her face was cast in warm light as well as shadows, and Bob found that leaning down to kiss her again was the most natural thing in the world. 

The cold bottle was pressed to his arm, and she kissed him back. When Bob opened his eyes again, his glasses were crooked and two of the candles had burned out. The kitchen was even darker now as she pecked his cheek and then strolled out into the living room. He took a few seconds to consider that now he'd initiated more kisses than she had. The desire to follow her and kiss her again was so strong, he almost tripped when he thought about her going back to New York. Had he ever felt this way about a girl after a few hours? No. Absolutely not.

He knew he should have found another place to sit in Nat's tiny, loud living room, but when he saw the spot on the couch next to Nova was empty, he couldn't force his steps in any other direction. She tracked him with her eyes, clearly feeling no shame about what was happening here. 

"How much have the rest of you had to drink?" she asked the guys. Jake was laying on the floor laughing while Javy tried to spin a dreidel on his nose. Bradley's cheeks were bright red, and he was half asleep at the other end of the couch. Mickey actually was asleep in the armchair. The only one who looked okay was Reuben. 

"A lot," Javy said. "We turned dreidels into a drinking game, and clearly Nat is better than the rest of us." Nat winked at Nova who winked back. "And Mickey can't hold his liquor for shit."

Nova laughed at him in the armchair. "Is that a WSO thing, Bob? Or can you handle another glass of wine?" she teased. 

"I can handle what you give me," he replied before he could consider how that might sound. She gasped softly and kind of nodded as she poured some more into his glass from earlier. 

"I guess we'll find out."

She tapped her glass to his, and they joined in the game with the others. Bob had never played before, but he was a quick study. It certainly didn't hurt that Nova kept touching his hands as she taught him what to do. And two glasses of wine later, Bob felt lighter and more carefree. His right hand was resting on her lower back, and she leaned in to his side as the game progressed. And the best part was, Nat seemed more than okay with this.

In fact, as midnight was fast approaching, Nat stood and stretched. "I'm beat. I don't care who stays over, but Nova is in the extra bedroom, so the rest of you can fight over the couches."

Bradley and Mickey both snored in response while Reuben started to gather Jake and Javy off the floor. "I'll drop the two of you off," he said. "It was nice to meet you, Nova. Thanks, Nat."

"Thanks, Nat," Javy and Jake echoed as Nat waved. Nova blew them each a kiss. 

Once they were gone, Nat started to gather up the empty wine bottles to take them into the kitchen, and Bob figured he should get ready to go as well. "Do you need help with anything?" he asked his friend, but she just waved him off. "No, I insist," he added.

He picked up some more of the trash the guys left, and as soon as he and Nova both stood, Bradley stretched out on the couch. "Just leave the rest of the mess. It's honestly fine. We can clean it up tomorrow," Nat said as she looked at her sister. 

Nova nodded. "Yeah, I'll help you clean everything when we wake up." 

They carried the trash they had already gathered in their arms to the kitchen, and then Nat hugged her sister before kissing Bob's cheek. "I'm assuming I'll see you again quite soon," she told him with an amused expression before she headed for the stairs. 

Bob wasn't sure exactly what that was supposed to mean, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. Right now he had to figure out a way to say goodbye to the woman in front of him. He wondered if there was some way he could tell her that the few hours he spent with her somehow meant something to him. If she lived in San Diego, he thought he would very much like to take her to dinner. Maybe he could figure out a way to say so without completely ruining the moments they'd shared tonight.

"Nova, I-"

It was time for more kissing. She didn't hesitate at all, almost like she felt as comfortable with this as he did. Her hand found the bottom of Bob's tee shirt and eased the fabric up so her palm could rest flat on his abs. She nibbled gently on his lip before she let him taste her tongue. She was sweet like wine. Then his hands were back on her hips again as she eased his shirt up a little further. 

"You had a lot to drink," she whispered with a wink, rubbing the tip of her nose against his. "Maybe you should come upstairs with me?" Bob wasn't drunk in the least, and he thought he knew what she meant. When his posture stiffened, she looked up at him. "It's just a twin bed, but we can both fit. If you want."

"You mean to... sleep?" he asked, embarrassed that he had to confirm instead of just knowing how to do things. 

Her hand glided down to the top of his jeans, and she laughed softly. "We don't have to mess around," she said as she kissed his lips softly. "But I don't think I can keep my lips away from yours."

When Bob nodded in agreement, heart pounding rapidly, she took him by the hand. Mickey and Bradley were both sound asleep in the living room where Bob made sure to grab his box of dice. Then he let Nova lead him upstairs. 

She looked back to smile at him a few times and tugged on his hand when he started to fall behind. Once they were in the extra bedroom with the soft lamplight and the door closed, Nova seemed a little more hesitant.

"Well, there's the twin bed," she said, gesturing toward it before putting her hands on her hips. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and laughed as she looked at the floor. "And I mean, obviously this was all a ploy to get to spend more time with you. But also, I don't think you should drive home after drinking so much wine." She paused before adding, "But mostly I just kind of thought maybe you and I could keep talking and making out."

Bob smiled when she looked up at him. "Yeah, I would like that."

She bit her lip, and Bob swore he had never in his life seen a woman who was so eager to be around him. He toed off his shoes before reaching for her hand again. And then he decided he was going to go for it. He was going to say what was on his mind as they both sat down on the edge of the bed together. 

"Hey, Nova? I..." he paused as he looked at her pretty face, and he had to clear his throat before he kept going. "You're really... I like you a lot, and I just wanted you to know that if you lived in San Diego, I would ask you on a date."

She scooted a little closer and let her hand come to rest on his thigh. "Where would you take me?" she asked, pressing her lips to his jaw as he stuttered.

"I would... I'd take you to um, a restaurant that I like called Starlite. It's in the city. It's really pretty inside at night, and they have fairy lights and champagne. And I think you'd look beautiful sitting at one of the tables with me."

"Oh my god," she moaned against his jaw, and Bob had absolutely no control over how his body was reacting to her. "Tell me more."

He tried to keep talking as she moved her hand further up his thigh, but he wasn't sure he was making sense. "I'd get you whatever you wanted, of course. But the steak is really good, so I'd ask if you wanted that. And. And I'd be hoping the waiter was really slow, because you'd look so pretty with the soft lights all around you. I'd want to keep you there with me as long as I could."

"I want to go," Nova whispered, kissing his ear. "I can practically picture it."

Bob closed his eyes, willing his cock to stop having a mind of its own as her fingers went as high as the bottoms of his boxer briefs. If she kept this up, Bob would have to excuse himself, and he really didn't want to leave her right now. Then she straddled his thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck, and Bob's arms were full of her. 

"I wish we could," he whispered, unsure what to do with his hands. "I'd take you there tomorrow, but Nat told me you're flying back east in the evening." He finally let his hands settle on her waist as she nodded sadly. 

"I am," she said as her lips brushed his. "But just humor me. Would you kiss me at Starlite?"

"I'd have to," he replied immediately. "It would be mandatory. All the light and shadows on your face... you'd be ethereal. And if you were looking at me, I wouldn't be able to help myself."

"Bob," she moaned against his lips, nibbling on him softly as her fingers went to his hair. "And where would you take me for our second date?"

He laughed as she licked his tongue. "You'd go out with me a second time?"

"You're joking right?" Nova asked, pulling back a few inches as she played with his hair. "This is all hypothetical, and it's still the best date I've ever been on."

"Okay," Bob replied, and he couldn't help but smile as she nodded for him to go on. "For our second date, I'd take you to the Mission Hills Rooftop Theater."

"What would we watch?" she asked, smiling as Bob let his hands drift up a little bit under her shirt. 

He shrugged. "Probably a foreign film. You'd think it was cool, but I'd just be watching the way the colorful lights flickered across your face."

She squeaked softly. "Can we pretend we're at the theater now?"

"Sure," he whispered with a smile. "We're at the theater. You look beautiful, reading all the subtitles. But I lost track of the plot of the film already."

"Why's that?" she asked with a grin.

"Can't pay attention to anything except you."

She pushed on his chest until he was laying on his back, her long hair brushing the side of his face as she leaned down to kiss him. She was rubbing herself against his hard length through his jeans and making little sounds that he'd never heard before. His hands were stroking higher, and he could feel her bra with his fingertips. He didn't want any of this to stop.

"Now you seem like a respectable guy, Bob," she murmured. "Would you take me home with you after our second date or make me wait until our third?"

Oh no. Bob loosened his grip on her as he went silent. Nova was still kissing her way across his cheek to his ear when her movements slowed. She eyed him curiously before nudging the rim of his glasses with her nose. 

"Bob?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "I don't know. I've never... taken a girl home before."

She looked down at him with a soft smile on her lips. "What?" she asked as she pushed her fingers back through his hair. 

Bob was terrified that she would stop touching him as soon as he said the words. She was so lovely, gravitating right to him all night just the same way he subconsciously felt like he wanted to be near her. He already recognized that he could fall for his friend's little sister. Maybe he already had. 

He took a deep breath as he adjusted his glasses. She was waiting for him to respond, and there was no point in lying about it now. "I'm a virgin."

Nova's brow creased, and her lips parted wordlessly. She examined his face, probably trying to see if he was lying, because there's no way someone his age shouldn't have lost his virginity by now. And it was a million times worse for a guy than for a girl. He knew that. It was all so very embarrassing. 

She didn't laugh, rather she kissed the corner of his lips and simply asked, "How?"

Bob shrugged. "I'm awkward."

"No. You're hot," she replied, shaking her head. "That's not it."

He tried to turn his head and look away, but she followed his gaze until he returned her soft smile. "I'm not really sure," he whispered. "I got close a few times, but it just didn't seem right. That sounds dumb."

"No, it doesn't," she replied, surprising Bob as she kissed him again. "Are you picky?" she asked between each soft press of her lips to his.

"Yeah. Kind of," he told her honestly. "Always have been. Picky about who I spend time with.

She brushed her fingers back through his hair again, and Bob melted at her touch. "That makes sense. A guy like you should be picky."

Somehow Nova was making him feel a lot more normal about this as she wasn't shying away from him. "Picky," he confirmed. "And the timing was never right."

"That's important," she said with a smile. "You have to do what feels good to you."

Bob swallowed hard. He was picky, but he really liked Nova. And for some reason, tonight out of all nights kind of felt right. He could easily blame Nat's Hanukkah party and the soft glow of the menorah candles on Nova's face for getting him to this point. She was on top of him, still kissing him, and he didn't want this to end. 

"This feels good to me," he blurted out, reaching up to push his fingers through her dark hair. "Tonight feels right."

She nodded, smiling as she crawled off of him, leaving Bob a little cold as he missed the feeling of her immediately. He sat up on the bed as she crawled up to the pillows and whispered, "Come here." She coaxed him along until she was laying on the pillows and he was on top of her, bracing himself with his arms so he didn't hurt her. 

"Okay, so, we already went to Starlite for dinner and then to the Mission Hills Rooftop Theater. I'll give you until our third date to make your move," she whispered, grinning up at him as she ran he hands up his biceps. "Where are you taking me?"

He took a deep breath; now was not the time for this wave of confidence to falter. "Cliffs beach. I'm packing a picnic, and we can sit in the bed of my truck and watch the sunset while we eat."

Nova moaned again and hooked her leg around Bob's thigh, pulling him impossibly closer. "Dinner was perfect. But now that the sun went down, I'm a little chilly."

"Well, I could keep you warm." He kissed her. "I'd hold you as I tried to work up the nerve to ask you if you wanted to come back to my place."

"I'm wrapped up in your arms, patiently waiting for you to ask," she replied with a smirk.

He nodded, and he knew he was blushing. This whole thing was kind of silly, but it just made sense. "I really like you. I could probably fall for you. If I let myself," he whispered, and she whimpered softly. "Do you want to come back to my place, Nova?"

"Absolutely."

Her hands were all over his face and in his hair, and eventually she took his glasses off and set them on the nightstand. She kissed him slowly as she rolled her hips up against his, and Bob blushed as he got hard again. When she carefully pulled his shirt off, she set it next to the pillow, and then she explored his body with her hands. But as soon as she pulled her own NYU shirt off and was laying beneath him, she arched her back. 

Bob reached beneath her, and he fumbled for a few seconds before he unhooked her bra. As he pulled the black lace away from her body and looked down at her breasts and her confident face, he marked this as the furthest he'd ever gone with a woman. She seemed to sense he needed a moment as she ran her fingers through his hair as he stuttered, "You're gorgeous."

Nova looked up at him with her playful dark eyes, but right now they seemed a little more serious. "I could probably fall for you, too."

Then his lips were on hers, and his hands went to her breasts gently stroking each soft handful. He could fall for this, he was sure of it. He wanted to take her on all of those dates, and he would have if he could have. He was charmed by her, and she seemed equally interested in him. 

"Bob," she moaned, breaking the kiss and tipping her head back as he pushed himself against her core. He brought his lips down to taste her breasts, and soon she was rolling her hips a little faster. "That feels good," she whispered as she looked up at him. "I like that."

Nova responded just like that to everything he did. When he kissed the side of her neck, she blushed a pretty shade of pink. She shivered for him when he ran his fingers down her side. When he paused with his hand just above the top of her leggings, she whispered, "Bob, you're making me kind of crazy."

She guided his hand down a few more inches with her own, but she didn't get annoyed when he took his time pulling her leggings and underwear off. His heart was pounding as he looked at her, completely naked. Maybe she could sense his hesitation, because she sat up, too, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'll tell you if I don't like something, okay? And you do the same?"

He nodded. "I like everything so far. I just don't want to mess this up."

"You won't," she promised, taking his face in both of her hands and kissing him softly at first. Then her lips became more demanding, and Bob wrapped one strong arm around her, pulling her on top of him. She giggled against his lips before swiping his tongue with her own. 

Her fingers roamed his bare torso and found the light trail of hair below his belly button. "I'm going to take your jeans off," she whispered, carefully unbuttoning and unzipping them. Her hair was already kind of a mess, and he knew his must have been as well. But then all thoughts left his mind as she started to pull his pants down. Bob wasn't dumb; he knew he was at least average size from the amount of time he'd spent in naval locker rooms. But he was surprised by her soft gasp when she pulled his underwear down far enough that his erection sprang free. Then his jeans, socks and underwear were in a pile at the bottom of the small bed, and he was naked, too.

He grunted as she wrapped her hand around him. This was the best thing he ever felt. Until she kissed him there. "Oh god, Nova. Wait," he moaned, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. "Don't we need a condom?"

She responded by licking his length before crawling up his body to kiss his lips. "I can go ask my sister if she has any if you want to use one." 

"No!" he gasped, nearly headbutting her as he sat up. "No, don't do that." Bob wasn't sure that Natasha would respond kindly to that question coming from her sister. "Please don't."

But Nova was all smiles as she straddled his waist. "Okay," she whispered as he braced himself with his hand behind him on the bed. "I won't alert Natasha to the fact that we're about to have sex."

Bob sighed in relief and reached out to push her hair behind her ear. "Actually, if you could not mention her again right now, that would be great." 

Now she was laughing softly as she scooted up until Bob could feel her wet pussy rubbing his cock. "Promise," she confirmed as he looked up at her face. When he glanced down between them, all he could see was her perfect body and his cock jumping against her in excitement. "I'm on birth control anyway," she whispered, kissing along his jaw. "And I know you're a little nervous, but so am I."

"Why?" he asked, surprised by her words. 

Nova hummed as she kissed her way back to his lips. "I want this to feel good for you." She wrapped her arms around his neck as she slowly rolled her hips against him and made the softest sounds. His heart rate picked up as she added, "I want you to think about our hypothetical dates after I'm gone."

He was sure he would be thinking about Nova for a very long time. She was all gentle fingers in his hair and confident smiles. She was beautiful, and Bob could easily get addicted to this. 

She guided him to lay back on the pillows as she asked, "You ready?" 

"Yeah." His voice sounded hoarse as he looked up at her and pushed her hair over one shoulder. When he let his hands trail over the soft skin of her shoulders, breasts and sides, she shivered as she kissed him. Bob could feel her hand around his length, and then his head tipped away from her as he moaned. "Does that feel good?"

Good. That didn't seem like the right word for it, but now his brain felt a little hazy. Nova's lips ghosted over his as he moaned again. She felt tight and inviting, and when she rolled her hips with him inside her like this, Bob gripped her hip a little tighter. His other hand ended up tangled in her hair as he traced her freckled cheek with his thumb. "Nova," he gasped against her lips before devouring her. 

Her soft noises got a little louder, and each roll of her hips had Bob praying that this would never end. Every passing second was better than the last. Every time she whispered his name and tasted his tongue was too exciting. When she ended up on her back, looking up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, he kissed her neck and pushed himself deep inside her.

"Oh," she moaned, and he had to slowly shake his head to keep his focus. Her leg was hooked up around his hip, and he was suddenly very aware that he didn't know how to make her orgasm. 

"Nova?" he gasped as she reached for his hand. But he should have known she'd be willing to help him with this as she showed him where and how to rub her. 

"Fuck," she whined, taking a few gasping breaths. "That feels so good." He kept moving his hips, too, and a few seconds later, as she was nibbling on his lip and whining, he felt her squeezing around him. "Bob. Bob. Bob!"

Her back was arched off the bed, and her breasts bounced with every wild breath she took, and then he had no idea it would all happen so fast for him. He tucked his face against her neck and shoulder as he bucked into her without finesse. He couldn't control it. He came so hard, his vision looked like a kaleidoscope of colors when he opened his eyes. But she was right there, and she was perfect.

He half collapsed against her chest as she played with his hair, and it felt like it might have been a long time before he moved. Bob wrapped his arms a little tighter around her, and even though he thought he should feel timid, he didn't. He felt so relaxed and almost loved as she touched him like this. When he tipped his face up to look at her, she was smiling. 

He was picky, and the timing never felt right before now. But Nova was lovely, and tonight was the right night. "My Hanukkah wish is to go on all of those dates with you," he whispered, and she closed her eyes as she blushed. "And see how pretty you'd look with the sun setting and all the fairy lights."

She leaned up slightly to kiss his lips. "I wish we could."

As she laced her fingers with his, Bob whispered, "Maybe we can trade phone numbers? And talk until you get tired of me."

She nodded and asked, "And what if I don't ever get tired of you?"

Bob studied her face as she ran her fingers through his hair and down his neck to his shoulder. "Then we'll go on the dates for real."

Eventually they fell asleep around four in the morning after talking and having sex again. When Bob woke up at nine, it was to Nova's lips on his neck and her voice in his ear. "Morning, Bob." 

He just held her a little tighter. When they went downstairs, nobody was surprised they'd spent the night together, not even Nat. She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, and he ended up staying all day, even after Bradley and Mickey both left. He just wanted to be around Nova for as long as possible, but eventually he had to leave so her sister could take her to the airport. So she could go back to New York.

"I'll miss you," she promised when she walked him out to his truck. She took his phone and saved her number for him. 

"Should I text you now? So you have mine, too?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "Fair warning, once you text me, I'll write back and probably never stop."

Bob laughed softly and quickly typed up a text to her while she kissed his neck. 

I miss you already, and I didn't even leave yet.

Then he kissed her back until her sister started yelling out the front door about going to the airport. "Bye, Bob," Nova whispered before kissing his cheek and bounding back in the house. As he drove away, his phone lit up in the cup holder with a series of texts from her, and he hoped she was telling the truth when she said she wouldn't stop.

----------------------------

Five months later...

"Are you really this nervous to see her again?" Natasha asked him as they walked through JFK airport together. "You've talked to her everyday for months. Hell, you flew out to see her for a weekend in March."

Bob blushed as he thought about those three days when he'd been here during a late winter snowstorm that kept him and Nova inside her apartment for most of the weekend. She'd hardly let him out of her bed. And while they weren't dating, not exactly, Bob knew he wanted to be.

"Yeah, I'm a little nervous. She has no idea I'm here for her graduation. Do you know how hard it was to lie to her?"

Nat laughed as they walked outside in the May sunlight to get a cab to Nova's apartment. Bob was slightly afraid she'd be upset when they got there. Or maybe there would be evidence of another guy. It might break his heart, but he'd have to accept it. But he just couldn't get past that night they spent together during Hanukkah, and he'd been falling in love with her since then. Even over the phone.

"I'm sure she'll be happier to see you than me," Nat told him. It seemed like no time passed at all before they were pulling up to the building he'd only seen once when it was surrounded by a layer of snow. 

He got out of the cab and stood awkwardly on the sidewalk as Natasha got her phone out. She looked up at him with a smile as she called her sister. "I'm here," she said before looking at the blank screen. "She screamed and then hung up."

Bob laughed nervously with his backpack on and Nat's hand rubbing his arm in a soothing circle. "If she's not excited to see me, I'll just get a hotel room or try to exchange my ticket for something earlier," he mumbled. 

But the next thing he knew, Nova was throwing open the door to her building. She barely looked at her sister before she gasped, "Bob!" and launched herself down the stairs and into his arms. 

"Hi," he whispered as she clung to the front of him and shamelessly kissed his lips and neck right in front of her sister. "I missed you."

She moaned softly and wrapped her arms around him as she let her cheek rest on his chest. "You brought me Bob? Is he my graduation present?" she asked Natasha as Bob ran his fingers through her hair and chuckled.

"Something like that," she replied, reaching for the key that was still in Nova's hand. "I'll meet the two of you inside." 

As Nat let herself in the building, Nova looked up at him. "You lied to me. You said you had to work this weekend."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'll never do it again." She was melting into his touch as he cleared his throat and added, "I know you're still going on interviews and trying to decide on a job, but I took next week off just in case I could persuade you to come back to San Diego for a bit."

She smiled. "Now why would I want to do that?"

Bob shrugged. "I just really think we should go on those three dates before I ask you to be my girlfriend."

"Starlite. Mission Hills Rooftop Theater. Cliffs beach," she said softly.

"In that order," he confirmed. "But I'd be taking you home with me after each one."

"Then yes."

---------------------------

Happy Holidays! I'll be thinking about Bob and Nova through the New Year. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls and @ryebecca

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[beyondthesefourwalls]

Merry Christmas Mishaps

Summary: Christmas looked a little different this year, and Javy knew you were having a hard time adjusting to it. You were used to the lights and the hustle and - God help him, the snow - that came with where you had called home for so long. You had given all that up to move to California to be with him, and he decided that if he couldn’t get you back on the east coast for the holiday, maybe he could improvise and start making new traditions here together, with a few surprises along the way. 

Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Non-descriptive smut that’s more alluded to but still there. 

Notes: Back on my Javy Needs More Love agenda, but make it the ✨Holiday Edition✨

Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "I have a secret".

---

Christmas looked a little different this year, and Javy knew you were having a hard time adjusting to it. 

When you had fallen in love with him, agreeing to move to San Diego to be with him since he couldn’t exactly relocate for you (he would have, in a heartbeat), you had done so with little to no hesitation. Being together was worth getting used to a new time zone and weather patterns. Last year, he had accompanied you home for the holidays, being introduced to every aunt and uncle and cousin twice removed as the boyfriend who had whisked you away to sunny California, experiencing every tradition and festive tourist trap he could have imagined, his cheeks cold and his toes numb, but with a giant smile on his face because of how happy you were. 

This year, though, he had drawn the short straw amongst his squad and would be working half a day on the 23rd and then the day after Christmas, too. And you, in all of your beauty and grace and complete and utter stubbornness, had refused to entertain the idea of going home by yourself. 

“For God’s sake, Javy. You think I’d let you spend Christmas alone?” 

You had sounded truly scandalized at the suggestion, and neither of you had talked about it since. 

But he knew. 

You were as cheerful as ever on the outside, even more so, really, overcompensating with the winter wonderland that your shared condo had turned into. Hardly a surface wasn’t covered in something festive since your negotiated date of the 15th of November (you were of the belief that Christmas started on November 1st, where he was a strict after Thanksgiving guy). Christmas playlists were on a constant rotation, and he’d watched more Hallmark movies in the last few weeks than he was willing to admit. You were doing everything right to make it seem like you were in the holiday spirit, but he could see the way the light in your eye dimmed just the slightest bit when you didn’t realize he was looking, and how sometimes your smile was just the tiniest bit forced. 

He knew that you missed the familiarity of home and the warmth of family and tradition. He had tried to get your parents out here instead, but it hadn’t worked out like he had hoped. It really would just be the two of you for Christmas. You had assured him that that was all you needed, and deep down, he knew you were telling the truth. Still, he wished he could do something more to make it feel like what you were used to. 

It was a week before the holiday when the idea came to him. You were watching yet another Hallmark movie, set in a snowy mountain town that was fighting to keep a beloved bakery alive (or maybe it was a toy shop, the plot lines were all starting to blend together for him), and you made an off hand comment about the likelihood of ever seeing snow while living in California. It was nearly two AM as you both slept in bed under a green and red duvet when his eyes popped open and he shot up to grab his laptop, suddenly knowing exactly what he could do. 

Javy spent the next several days feverishly planning, making calls and sending emails in between hops and classes. He felt like a kid trying to keep the ultimate Christmas present a surprise, giddy with excitement. It was a gamble, the forecast changing almost by the hour, but he was confident it would be worth it. 

Coming home from work at lunch time on the 23rd, he was practically vibrating with anticipation. You were in the kitchen transferring cookies into a tin from a baking sheet when he walked through the door, the condo smelling like chocolate and sugar. Michael Buble played in the background, and he couldn’t help but watch you for a moment before he announced his presence. 

“Hey baby,” he said. You spun to face him, and he could see the touch of melancholy in your eyes. 

“Hey you.” 

He crossed the room to wrap his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. You pressed your face into the crook of his neck and he could feel the way your body relaxed against his. He held you tighter. “Merry Christmas Eve Eve,” he whispered into your hair, and you giggled as you pulled away to look at him, your smile warm and sincere. He felt a flutter that he was able to do that. 

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve,” you returned, raising on your toes to kiss him. He could taste your peppermint chapstick on your lips.

“I have something for you,” he said, and your eyebrow raised in question. He shot you a wink and squeezed your hips before he stepped away. He practically jogged over to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, grabbing one of the boxes he had placed there earlier this week and hurrying back to you. He held it out to you with a dramatic bow, causing another laugh to escape from between your pretty lips. “For you, m’lady.” 

“You’re such a dork,” you said, but there was fondness laced through your voice, and Javy just smiled. You took the box from him, running your finger over the shimmering gold wrapping paper. You looked at the gift wistfully before looking back at him. “It’s not Christmas yet.” 

“An early gift. Come on, open it. For me?” 

You rolled your eyes at his exaggerated puppy dog expression that he played up just for you. With a sigh that quickly turned into an excited grin, you tore into the paper. He laughed as you did, knowing that no matter how hard you tried to hide it, you loved presents. 

He could tell you were confused when you pulled out the soft, fluffy scarf, followed by the matching beanie, both in a dark forest green that he knew you favored. 

“These are so nice, baby. I love them. But it’s 70 degrees outside right now?” 

Javy nodded, not bothering to fight the smile that was taking over his face. “Yeah, but it’s colder up in the mountains. So you might need to bundle up.”

You looked up at him in shock, your eyes widening with each passing second. “What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“I rented us a cabin up in Big Bear. It’s just for a couple of days, but I thought maybe we could get away just the two of us. Maybe get some snow and have a white Christmas after all, if the weather pulls through. But at least a colder one, just like you like.” 

You were staring at him with a mix of disbelief and pure joy, and Javy knew he had made the right decision in surprising you. He mentally captured the look on your face right now, wanting to keep it as a memory forever. 

“Javy…” 

It wasn’t often that you were speechless, and he couldn’t help the laugh he let out as he asked, “Are you surprised?” 

Instead of answering, you threw your arms around him, hugging him tight. You wrapped your legs around him when he lifted you off your feet and pulled back just far enough to kiss him soundly. 

“This is the best gift ever,” you whispered against his lips. “I love you.” 

You were on the road within the next two hours, the presents from under your tree all packed up in the car as well as the cookies you had just freshly baked. It was almost a three hour drive and by the time he was winding his truck up the mountain side, the sun was setting. You were leaning as far as you could against the window, eyes glued on the outdoor landscape. A thin sheen of snow lined the ground, and you could see the faint shine of Christmas lights from tucked away houses.

Javy reached over to take your hand, lacing your fingers together. You turned to him smiling, and he felt his heart swell. He knew that this was exactly what you needed.

He helped you out of the car once he parked in the small driveway, and he could see the awe written all over your face. The cabin was wooden and cozy, the outside completely decked out in twinkling lights. He could see through the windows that the inside had lights on, too, and he knew the request he had put in with the rental company to have all the Christmas lights up and turned on at the time of arrival had been fulfilled. 

“Oh, baby,” you breathed, spinning in a slow circle once you walked through the front door. The cabin itself was small, a studio set up where every room flowed together with ease and little separation, but it was decorated just as extravagantly as the condo, only moreso, somehow, with the mountain environment and cabin feel adding a deeper element of festivity. 

“This is beautiful,” you said softly. Javy dropped the bags by the door and closed the small distance between you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. 

"I'm glad you like it," he said, his breath warm against your ear. "I know Christmas looks a little different this year. So I wanted to make it special for you." 

You turned in his arms to look at him, eyes shining with tears. “You make everything special,” you told him, and he could hear the conviction in your voice that made it so he couldn’t help but believe you. "Thank you," you whispered. "This means everything to me."  You kissed him, and Javy held you close, his hand stroking your back in a soothing rhythm.

You kept things simple that night, making an easy dinner and then cuddling up on the small couch in front of the fireplace to watch a movie. He insisted on something not Hallmark, and you didn’t fight him at all, laughing as you threw on The Santa Clause instead. 

The next day, the two of you went all out on modified versions of your family’s Christmas traditions. You made an absolute feast for breakfast, full of way too many carbs and way too much sugar that you both ate happily and without a care in the world. You baked even more cookies, and Javy discovered that he had quite the talent for decorating them. The two of you laughed and teased each other as you both tried to outdo each other’s designs, and he kissed your pout away when you eventually conceded defeat.

“You’re too perfect. It’s actually ridiculous.” 

You went for a walk in the early afternoon, bundled up in coats you never got use out of in San Diego. You wore the scarf and hat that he got for you and kept your hand in his the entire way. When you got back to the cabin, noses and fingers cold, you started cooking a meal that was way too much for two people. Normally that was reserved for Christmas day, but you’d have to head back home tomorrow night so you were modifying everything just the slightest bit to accommodate while still making it a trip to remember. 

You sipped sweet red wine together after dinner, trading stories about holidays as kids, when you gasped loudly, jumping up from the couch. He looked at you in concern as you practically sprinted to the window. 

“Baby, what-”

“Javy, it’s snowing!” 

The wonder in your voice was palpable. He got up and joined you at the window, watching the snowflakes fall gently to the ground in the dark, reflecting off of the array of outdoor lights. It was a beautiful sight, truly. 

“Looks like we’ll have a white Christmas after all,” he said, his voice low and husky as he wrapped his arms around you. You leaned into him, smiling contentedly. You just stood and watched for a few minutes before he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Want to go outside?” 

You turned to face him, the excitement in your eyes evident. “Yes!” you exclaimed, already grabbing your coat and shoes. Javy chuckled at your enthusiasm, but really, he was just as excited as you were. 

The air was crisp and cold, but you hardly seemed to notice as you twirled around in the falling snow. He just watched you for a moment, content with the spectacle he was witnessing. You slipped just the slightest bit on your next spin, and Javy caught you, holding you steady as you started to giggle uncontrollably. He couldn’t help but smile at your joy, feeling his own heart warm at the sight.

“Careful,” he playfully admonished. You just sighed happily as you settled against him. 

“Never thought I’d get a white Christmas in California,” you whispered. 

Javy’s pulse picked up as he thought about one of the gifts he had for you, suddenly desperate to give it to you. He swallowed thickly as he kissed your cold cheek. “Let’s head back in.” 

You showered together, the hot water helping you regain some of the warmth you had lost from your unexpected snow excursion. You poured glasses of wine as he set some cookies on a plate for you to share, and the two of you settled in front of the Christmas tree. You eyed the gifts eagerly; it was nearing midnight now, and neither of you wanted to wait until morning. 

You took turns opening the handful of gifts you got each other, swapping stories and reasonings behind them as you did. Plenty of laughs and kisses were exchanged as you went, and before he knew it, you were both surrounded by wrapping and tissue paper. 

Looking at you now, basked in the tree lights and the glow of the lit candles scattered throughout the room, the fireplace crackling in the corner, he knew there wouldn't be a better time than right now. He cleared his throat gently, drawing your attention from the custom puzzle he had made for you of one of your favorite pictures. 

“I have one more gift for you,” he murmured, and his heart started racing wildly in his chest as he reached behind the tree, lifting the tree skirt to grab the small box he had hid underneath it. It was beautifully wrapped, adorned with a silky green ribbon and a small gold bell. Your eyes widened as you looked from the box to his eyes, and he could see the question written all over your face. His heart leaped in his chest as you took it from him, your fingers brushing his before smoothing over the elegant paper, different from what the rest of your gifts had been wrapped in. 

“Javy,” you breathed. “Is this…?” 

“Open it,” he urged, a small smile playing on his lips. You slowly undid the ribbon, setting it aside and then gently running your finger beneath the tape to get the paper off, showing a delicacy you hadn’t before. 

You gasped when the velvet black box was revealed, and when you met his eyes again, there were tears lining yours. 

“Go ahead, open it,” he encouraged, his eyes dancing with anticipation. 

You bit your lip through the smile he could see appearing, staring at him for a long moment, before you finally looked back down. With a deep, shaky breath you snapped the box open. He held his breath as he waited for your reaction, only for his stomach to drop when, instead of the radiant smile and excitement he was so confident you would have, your eyebrows furrowed together, a frown contorting your features. You looked not only confused, but heartbroken. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“What?” he asked, heart racing for an entirely different reason now. “What do you mean?” 

Without saying anything, you turned the open box to face him. Javy felt horror course through him when he looked down to see that the ring box, which was supposed to be housing a shiny, sparkling engagement ring that he just knew you would be in love with, was completely empty. And instead of the name of the jewelry store staring back at him on the silk lining of the inside lid, the LSU logo from the box that at one point held his class ring that was on his hand was staring back at him instead. It took his mind a moment to really register the implications of that, and the groan he let out was long and drawn out. 

“Oh my God,” he said as he smacked his forehead, “I’m an idiot.” 

You still looked confused, but maybe a little less heartbroken as you cleared your throat. “Huh?” 

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he pleaded, and he scrambled to grab your hands, sliding himself closer to you on the floor. He knocked the offensive empty box to the ground. 

“I kept your ring it in my sock drawer-”

“Real original.” 

“Thank you, I know,” he responded without missing a beat, “But I also keep my class ring box in there, and I must have grabbed the wrong one when you were in the shower before we left yesterday. I had looked at the ring so many times that I swore the hinges on the damn box were gonna snap so I made myself keep it closed and oh my god-” 

You cut him off with a laugh, shaking your head and wiping at the tears in your eyes. “Javy, it’s okay,” you said. 

But it wasn’t, not to him at least. He had planned this whole getaway so meticulously and the proposal had been something he had been thinking about for so long. He had bought your ring months ago, and had been so excited to give it to you. 

“No,” he shook his head, “it’s not okay. This was supposed to be perfect, and I ruined it. I’m so sorry,” he apologized again. 

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you, and he couldn’t help but lean into your touch. “It’s not ruined,” you said firmly. “I mean, yeah, this wasn’t exactly how you planned it, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you or the fact that I want to be with you forever.” 

“I just wanted it to be special,” he muttered, still feeling embarrassed. He imagined he would for a good long while. 

You smiled at him, that sweet tug of your lips that has damn near brought him to his knees since the very beginning. You rubbed your thumb across his cheek, giggling softly. You leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. 

“I don’t care about the ring, Javy. I care about you. And this is perfect.” 

He looked at you, tears stinging his eyes. A grin slowly spread on his face as he processed your words. “Are you saying yes?” he asked, his voice tinged with excitement. 

You grinned right back at him, shrugging playfully. “Are you asking?” 

Javy couldn't contain the emotion that coursed through him. The empty ring box was forgotten as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Laughter bubbled up between you. "Yes! Yes, I'm asking!" 

Your eyes sparkled when you pulled away, and you looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised. It took him a second through the excitement to realize why, and he felt his face heat with embarrassment again. "Oh! Right. Right. Baby, I love you. And I had a whole speech planned, but it doesn't feel like it matters anymore. All that matters is me and you, yeah?" You nodded, tears in your eyes, and Javy felt as calm as he had all night just from the look you were giving him. "Marry me?" 

You kissed him again, your lips molding perfectly against his. He had to rank it as one of the best kisses the two of you had ever shared together. “Yes,” you breathed, your noses brushing together as you nodded fervently. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” 

You squealed at the sudden movement as he scooped you up into his arms as he stood. He spun you around once, twice, your shared laughter filling the small, warm space. Your arms wrapped tight around his neck as he held you, trusting him not to drop you. He knew the smile on his face must have been ridiculous - his cheeks were starting to ache by the constant pull. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. He kissed you again, and you returned it eagerly. You moaned into his mouth as he carried you the few steps to the bed, laying you down gently before climbing on top of you. 

He made love to you slowly, his hands roaming every inch of your body, caressing and exploring with a tenderness that matched what he was feeling. He savored every breath and every touch. There was no rush as you moved together. The tree lights glowed and the fireplace crackled, and it was like just the two of you existed, tucked away from the rest of the world. You clutched at him as he expertly brought you to the edge. 

You lay cuddled up with him afterward, your head on his chest as his stayed wrapped around you, holding you close. 

The room was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the sound of your steady breathing and the crackling of logs in the fireplace. Javy traced lazy patterns on the bare skin of your back, his touch gentle and loving. The Christmas tree glowed in the corner, snow was still slowly falling outside, and a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table told him it was after midnight at that point. He pressed a kiss to your head, sighing in content. 

"Merry Christmas, Sweetheart." 

-----------

Main Masterlist

Notes: This was incredibly self indulgent. I actually love him so much, it's unhealthy. Hope you enjoyed this one!

Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help as usual, and to Mak for the absolutely stunning banner.

#alli writes #winterromcomchallenge #javy machado x reader #javy machado #javy machado x you #javy machado imagine #javy coyote machado #javy machado fic #javy machado smut #javy machado fluff #javy machado appreciation #javy coyote machado x you #coyote x you #coyote x reader #javy coyote machado x reader #tgm fic #top gun fanfiction

[bellaireland1981]

Bellaireland's Winter RomCom Writing Challenge!

Details:

 I’ve hit 800 followers!!! First and foremost…THANK YOU! I am floored by that. To celebrate, I’ve decided to host a Winter RomCom writing challenge! I don’t know about you, but I am a sucker for RomComs, all the cheesy wintery/holiday Hallmarky movies, cliche tropes…. Love it all! What’s better than combining all of that with all of the TGM characters we love?! To sign up, comment or DM me with your Trope choice and character you’re writing for! 

Rules:

You can sign up for as many tropes as you’d like! 

18+ Only! Minors DNI

You can submit for a series, one shots, mood boards, drabbles, etc… The point is to HAVE FUN!

Must be appropriately labeled (Smut, Angst, warnings, Fluff….etc)

HAS to include  WINTER! RomCom genre and include the TROPE  you sign up for! Go crazy! 

General:

Your creations are due by January 1, 2024! Tag me @bellaireland1981 and #WinterRomComChallenge in your work so that I add your link to the Challenge Page! 

Tropes:

Meet Cute

Enemies to Lovers

Forced Proximity

Destiny/Soulmate

Childhood Sweethearts

Forbidden Love

Second Chance Love

Impossible Love

I have a Secret

The Bet

Fake Relationship

Love Triangle

Opposites Attract

Amnesia/Mistaken Identity 

Instalove

Just Friends

Stuck Together/Snowed in/Stranded

Rags to Riches

Marriage Pact

Best Friend’s Brother

Country Inn

Home for the Holidays 

Bachelor Auction (charity?)

Boy/Girl next door

Nanny

Completed Works!

9, 16, (not listed- friends to lovers)- All I Want For Christmas Is...You by @bellaireland1981 (Bradley x Female! Reader)

15,21 - Christmas on Mistletoe Mountain By @bellaireland1981 (Bradley x Female! Reader)

20 - Brighter Than a Supernova By @roosterforme (Bob x Phoenix's lil sister OC)

16- Home For Christmas by @seresinsbrat (Jake x Female! OC)

9- Merry Christmas Mishaps by @beyondthesefourwalls (Javy x Reader)

17- What Happens Now by @mikpieboo (Bradley x OC)

22- (Holi)Day by Day-1940's Historical AU by @desert-fern (Bradley x Fem!Reader)

1,4,9- Pink Christmas Part 1 by @roosterforme (Rooster x Reader)

Part 2

17- 'Tis the Damn Season by @startrekfangirl2233-writes (Javy x Reader)

Part 2 A Hazy Shade of Winter

22 Home for the Holidays Moodboard by @ryebecca (Bob Floyd)

22- Something Worth Remembering by @beyondthesefourwalls (Bradley x Reader)

@roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @waywardodysseys @milesdickpic Tagged people I thought/Knew would be interested but ANYONE that wants to participate! Let's have some fun!

#bellaireland writes #WinterRomComChallenge #Top gun fan fiction #bellaireland1981

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

A Hazy Shade of Winter

Javy 'Coyote' Machado x Reader

Description: It feels like something has inexplicably changed between you and Javy Machado during your two day drive across the country. He's different with you, kinder, sweeter, and softer. It's a side of him you could easily fall in love with. But before you drum up the courage to broach the topic with him, the two of you are in Jake and Nat's cute little house in Virginia and it feels like the moment is gone. One soak in a hot tub affirms your feelings and Javy's. The hours following are more fulfilling than you ever would have expected. All you can thank are Jake and Nat's hot tub.

Themes: Hot tubs, hot tub sex, shower-sex, falling in love, winter

Warnings: Female!Reader This fic is for adults age 18 and older, only! There are spicy happenings in this part! Please do not read if sexual intimacy is disturbing to you!

Word Count:

Author Note: This is part two of Gypsy and Javy's story and was written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Writing Challenge! I had an absolute blast writing this fic for Trope #17, Stuck Together/Snowed in/Stranded. I hope you all love reading this fic as much as I loved writing it! All my thanks go to @desert-fern who was instrumental as I bounced ideas back and forth for this fic, as well as for beta-reading it for me!

Read 'Tis the Damn Season here!

Cross Posted on AO3 Here!

My Masterlist

Something has unraveled between you and Javy Machado since that night. There are tiny gossamer ribbons of emotion, of trust stretching out from your ribcage to his, anchored within the beat of your heart and his. You've been talking as the hours turn into days with nobody else for companionship. You've talked about anything and everything, from your childhood to his, to childhood rituals and challenging duty stations. But you’ve never once addressed the kiss - kisses, really. It feels like electricity is zipping through your veins with each stolen glance, each languid glimpse you steal of his physique from the corner of your eyes.

Just as you ask him why he kissed you, if he meant what he said about being in love with you, the car jolts to a halt. It’s early, bright, and bitterly cold, a fact Tash does not appear to notice with how she’s waving excitedly from the front porch. You feel for Jake in that moment. Unlike her boyfriend, who is bundled up in a thick coat, boots, and jeans, Tash is just wearing leggings and a baggy bright orange Longhorns Jersey. You can see she’s wearing flip-flops on her feet, and you pray you’re headed back inside soon before she gets sick.

“You made it!” She’s practically dancing when you make your way onto the porch laden with your bags and a not considerable amount of snow. “I had my doubts, you know? I wasn’t sure you could make it with Javy halfway across the country without murdering him.”

 “It was a near thing, Tash.” You shrug as Jake opens the door for you, shivering at the blast of heat washing over you as you set your bags in a pile in the foyer.

“Hey, Jake.” Unencumbered, you hug your friends, giggling as Jake hoists you up and spins you around in a circle. Then you get wrapped up in a warm hug from Tash and dragged through the house. You can vaguely hear Jake and Javy following behind the two of you as you walk through the house, laughing and catching up. The culmination of the tour is a bedroom.

“So, Gypsy, this is the guest bedroom.” The bedroom is beautiful, painted soft cream with white wood furniture. It feels like summer in a room. But when you mention as much, you’re surprised to see Tasha’s mouth fall open in surprise.

“What?” You need coffee for this, please. Jake and Tasha just share a look with each other. The room feels stifling as you look between your friends, and surprisingly, it’s Javy who puts you out of your mystery.

“Gyppie, I think Tash means that this is the only guest bedroom.” You turn then, taking in the queen bed at the center of the room. 

“Oh.” You turn back to Javy and smile just a little. “I’ll take the window side of the bed, then.”

“That works for me.” He hands you your bags with a grin of his own. “You forgot these downstairs.”

“Thanks, Javy.” 

“Gypsy?” You turn to look at your best friend, unsure of what her tone means, though you can see a shocked expression on her face. “Come on down to the kitchen with me. I have coffee down there. I think we need to talk.”

You follow your best friend easily, smiling as Javy squeezes your hand in his as you pass. It’s an action that both Jake and Tash see, and as you follow Tash down the stairs, you can see the questions floating around her head.

“Do you still take your coffee with an obscene amount of cream and a spoonful of sugar?” You nod and accept the hot mug, letting Tash drag you to sit at the kitchen table. 

“What the hell was that?” She’s adopted her gossiping position, one leg curled under her butt as she leans forward. The big jersey’s sleeves cover her hands as they clutch her mug. Unconsciously, you end up mirroring her position, sipping on your coffee and letting the caffeine hit your stomach as you think of what to say. 

“What was what, Tash?”

“You didn’t fight about sharing a bed with Javier Machado! That’s what.” You shrug. 

“Things have changed, Tash.” At her snort, you find yourself spilling the beans. The night in the motel room, miles away, feels like a dream. Her squeal when you get to the kiss nearly deafens you.

“He kissed you!” She sounds practically giddy with glee, her eyes bright as she looks at you across the warm wood table. “And you kissed him back!”

“So, what now? Does this mean you’re in a relationship with him now?” 

“I wish I knew, Tash. We haven’t talked about it.” Her mouth parts in dismay.

“Is that why you haven’t objected to sharing a bedroom with him?” You nod sheepishly. “Is there anything Jake or I can do to help?”

“Not really, Tash. We just have to communicate. Communicate like we’ve never been able to before this. It's just…” You sigh softly. “It feels right, spending time with him. It feels right in a way nothing else ever has. I have butterflies, literal, actual butterflies in my stomach when I talk to him. I used to think that feeling was hatred. But the past few days have taught me differently.”

“I’ll see what I can do to make sure you have some time together, Gyp. I’ll make sure Jake knows, too.” You smile softly and change the subject. You’re not sure you could face either of the men overhearing this particular conversation.

“So what’s it been like - having your own house and living with Jake?” It was the right question to ask. Her face lights up as she discusses buying furniture and decorating the house. You haven’t seen her this happy in a very long time. You get absorbed in the conversation and manage to forget the question of what Javy and you are for half an hour more. 

You get yanked out of your cozy conversation when Jake clatters into the kitchen. Javy follows at his heels, the scent of his cologne preceding him. 

“The shower’s all yours, Gyppie.” You hand Jake your empty mug and move to leave the kitchen.

“Wait a sec, Gyp.” You turn to look at Jake. “I’m making brunch now, and we didn’t have anything planned for today. If either of you feels like taking a dip in the hot tub out back, you’re welcome to.”

You wave your goodbyes and head up to take a hot shower. The bathroom is still neat, with only a little bit of steam in the air. It feels amazing to wash off the dirt of traveling cross country in a car. By the time you leave your room, the house smells deliciously of coffee and breakfast. Your stomach rumbles as you accept your laden plate and settle in next to Javy at the table to eat your meal. The atmosphere is light as you talk and laugh, catching up. Javy’s hand finds its way to your thigh under the table, and that one point of contact makes heat slide through your system.

In the mid-afternoon, after Jake drags Tasha into their bedroom for a nap, which you’re almost 90% sure isn’t a nap at all, you walk up into your room to change into your bikini for a soak in the hot tub. Javy has obviously had the same idea because he’s standing in the room in a pair of yellow swim trunks with red lines going down them. The sight makes you drool a little bit because the shorts are just a bit too short, revealing the mouth-watering expanse of his tanned, strong thighs and his truly enviable six-pack abs. You grab your bikini and excuse yourself to the bathroom, uncomfortably aware of the flush in your cheeks and the dazed look in your eyes as you change into the simple black fabric.

You pull on a pair of sweats and exit to an empty bedroom. You can faintly hear a moan from behind the closed door of the master bedroom, and you make your escape. Tash might be your best friend, but you don’t need to know what she sounds like in bed. You let yourself out via the kitchen door and toddle carefully out to the hot tub. The ground is covered in a layer of frost, and you’re underdressed for this weather. Thankfully, you’re not going far. The hot tub is at the bottom of the backyard in a little shed. The gate’s open when you step through, the cover off and the water steaming in the cold air. Javy’s already in the tub, languid in the bubbling water. His clothes are on a bench in the back, and you set your towel next to his. Your skin prickles with goosebumps as you drag your sweats off, shuddering as you fold the garments up and set them near your towel.

“Come on in, the water’s perfect.” Javy’s eyes are dark as they drag over your form. Your nipples pucker into hard peaks at the sight before you. It takes you several moments to screw up all of your courage and step in. The water feels nearly too hot on your chilled skin, but once you’re in the tub up to your collarbones, you feel a little bit less exposed.

“That bikini looks amazing, Gyppie.” If you were flushed earlier, you’re even more so now.

“It’s just a plain black bikini.” You deflect, “It’s nothing special.”

“I’d argue that it is.” You jump when his hand wraps around your ankle. “It’s borderline indecent how two small triangles of fabric make your tits look mouthwatering. I haven’t seen your ass, but I’m sure it looks fabulous too.”

You chuckle awkwardly because you don’t know how to respond. You’re not sure why Javy’s being so profuse with compliments. He was the person who seemed so content with not addressing the kisses from the motel. Now he’s got his hands on your skin and complimenting your body?

“At least come here, sweetheart.” There’s a soft smile on his face, his strong fingers rubbing circles against your ankle. “I can’t see you through all the steam.”

It feels like you’re in a trance as you take his hand and let yourself be pulled into his lap. This close, you can feel the muscles of his thighs flex under your thighs. 

“Much better, sweetheart.” His hands are on your waist, thumbs resting just against the underside of your breasts.

“What’s going on? What happened to my bold, pretty Gypsy who kissed me like that in that motel room?” You freeze from where you’d been slowly acclimatizing yourself to sitting in his lap. “I can’t believe this shy little thing is her.”

“I…” To your embarrassment, you stutter a little at his earnest question, and you can’t meet his eyes. “I’m not usually like this.”

“Is this just another thing that’s a reaction to me, then?” His hands slide up, hot and wet, to draw your face up until your eyes are level with his own.

“Why are you doing this, Javy?” Of all the questions you were expecting to fly out of your mouth, this wasn’t one.

“I thought I told you why in that motel room.” You gasp. “I’m in love with you, Gypsy. I always have been.” It’s when he repeats the words with your name that you start to believe him.

This time, you initiate the kiss, smiling when you feel his grin against your mouth. He takes control soon afterward, licking into your mouth in languid strokes that have heat spiraling through your veins. Your chest heaves when he pulls away. Despite the hot water lapping over your chest, you have goosebumps across your arms, and your nipples are hard. You feel special in his gaze.

“What’re you thinking about, hmm, Gyppie?” His hands haven’t strayed from their place on your ribcage, no matter how much you’d like them to.

“I’m thinking about how stupid I’ve been by denying how electric I feel in your presence.” 

His laugh takes your breath away. “Those are awfully big words for somebody wriggling on my lap like this.”

When you move to stop, he tugs you in closer. “I didn’t say, stop, baby. I think I might die if you do.”

Javy kisses down the side of your throat, the wet slide and suction robbing any sense you have. You’re powerless to do anything but moan as those big hands undo the tie of your bikini and as his mouth dips lower and lower. The heat languishing in your belly burns in a sharp, stinging ache as his parted mouth meets the peak of your breast. You shudder and curl a hand in his hair. That vicious ache between your thighs pulses in beat with your rushing blood. You whimper, honest-to-god whimper, when he pulls away.

“C’mon, baby.” You let Javy pick you up and carry you out of the tub. “I’m not going to fuck you in here. Let’s get back into the house, okay?” 

You nod dumbly, not sure where to look or how to act when there is so much arousal in your veins. He dries you off carefully, kissing the swell of your breasts before tugging your sweatshirt back over your head and your pants up your legs. You observe as he turns off the tub and the lights and let him lead you back into the house. Your bikini is trapped in your hands, and your lips feel swollen with the force of his kisses. Thankfully, the house is still silent, barring the occasional gasp from the master bedroom, as you close the door to the guest room and lock it.

This leaves you looking right at Javy, seeing the heat in his gaze.

“I'm going to take a shower.” You murmur, turning your back to him as you tug the damp clothing off in his view. There's a foreign confidence in your veins as you untie the bikini bottoms and let them smack, water-laden as they are, on the tile floor. When you step under the hot stream, you're praying that Javy understands what you want. You're not sure you can take the mortification of being wrong when you have to share a bed with him.

You're more than pleased to find you're not wrong when arms wrap around your bare form minutes later. He's hard against your butt, and his hands are very busy mapping your skin.

“Been dreaming about this, baby.” His voice is a guttural moan, which has you melting in his big, calloused hands. “Gonna make you feel so good.” 

You whimper when his hands leave your skin. You can't believe your eyes when you turn around because he's kneeling on the tile as the water rains onto his upturned face.

“Can I eat you out, baby?” You nod and let him manhandle you with your leg over his shoulder. The first swipe of his tongue through your folds has you seeing stars. His big hands hold your thighs open as they shake under the onslaught, soothingly massaging the muscles as they tense and your toes curl in pleasure. You twist your nipples, tugging on the hard peaks in a near rhythm to his tongue as your body crashes towards your first orgasm in months. Everything feels sensitive as the band in your belly tightens, the pressure making your thighs quake as you bite your lips.

When his lips wrap around your swollen clit, he sucks gently as you cum with a garbled screech of his name. Your hips buck wildly as your back arches. When Javy slides his way back up to standing in front of you, he has to tease your lips out from between your teeth.

“Aww, baby, look at you. My beautiful Gypsy-girl.” There's naked affection in his gaze as he kisses you. Your eyes flutter slowly closed as he kisses you.

“Javy?” He hums in response, hands busy squashing your ass. “What about you?”

“Aren't you still, you know, hard?” Your voice is a whisper barely audible over the drumming water.

“How could I be when I have a beautiful thing falling apart on my tongue?” You're giggling into the kisses he lays across your mouth.

Your daydream in the motel shower was right. Javy Machado's hands are the perfect fit for your curves, the rough pads of his fingers so gentle as they massage soap across your skin. You hope that your hands feel just as perfect on his skin as you return the favor.

“You're mine, now, Gypsy.” Javy keeps murmuring the words possessively into your ears. It sounds almost like he's reassuring himself that you're truly here, in his arms, despite your murmurs back in the affirmative.

His gaze is unbelieving when you push him onto the bed, still damp, and crawl over him. His body responds to your touch as you pepper kisses down his chest, pressing one featherlight kiss against his cock. You can already taste the salty-sweet tang of his precum as you slide back up and capture his mouth into another kiss. This kiss is punctuated by his moans as you work over his length, using your own arousal to ease the way.

His gasp is in perfect harmony with your own as you ease yourself onto his length. He's big, and he feels even better than he looks as you sink inch by excruciating inch down his length.

“God, baby.” You preen in your position atop him, soaking in the pure love in his voice. “You feel so good, baby. Make me cum, baby doll. Go on.”

The order, coupled with your arousal, has you lifting yourself up and settling back down, over and over. You're chasing the high of your last orgasm once again, everything fever-hot as you take your pleasure. When your steady rhythm falters as your thighs burn, Javy flips you onto your back. His muscular body heaves over you, his eyes dragging torturously over your spit-slicked, parted lips, your erect nipples, and your puffy cunt.

“Gypsy, you look so perfect.” His words are worshiping, his cock sliding over your wet heat as he kisses your neck. The sharp sting of his teeth against your pulse, coupled with the blunt press of his cock has your back arching and a moan tumbling out of your mouth. Now, the pace is brutal. His lips are bared in a growl as his muscles glisten with sweat. The bedroom is filled with the smack of skin against skin, and unbidden, you can feel another orgasm coming over you.

Javy doesn't help that, not when he kisses you filthily and growls, “Feel so good, baby. My pretty Gypsy girl feels like she's gonna cum, huh? Her little pussy fluttering around me?”

You can’t respond in anything other than gasps or moans. All your thoughts are driven out by the press of his skin against your own. The two of you cum together, muffling your pleasure against each other's skin. You find yourself in the shower again once you can feel your feet, this time sharing lazy kisses as you melt into his arms.

When Tash and Jake walk down the stairs an hour later, your hair is a damp mess around your face. There's pasta sauce bubbling on the stove and garlic bread in the oven. A bottle of wine is breathing on the dining table, but neither you nor Javy care. Not when he's got you caged up against the counter, kissing you as you try to sing along to the music playing softly from the speakers. There's snow falling to the ground outside, but in the house, everything feels warm and bright.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @footprintsinthesxnd @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32 @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @bellaireland1981

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #javy coyote machado x reader #javy machado x reader #coyote x reader #WinterRomComChallenge #'tis the damn season #gypsy x javy #the coyote and his gypsy #coyote x gypsy

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Schedule for the week of 12/17/2023 to 12/23/2023

It's nearly Christmas Time! I hope wherever you are lovely, this holiday season is warm and bright!

12/18/2023 - TOMORROW - A Moodboard from my 300 Follower Celebration

12/19/2023 - TUESDAY - A Coyote Winter Fic for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Writing Challenge Part 1 of 2

12/20/2023 - WEDNESDAY - A Moodboard from my 300 Follower Celebration

12/22/2023 - FRIDAY - A Moodboard from my 300 Follower Celebration

12/23/2023 - SATURDAY - Chapter 8 of Sweet Home Alabama 

Tagging my lovelies on the taglists for these fics: @atarmychick007 @the-romanian-is-bae @lt-spork @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @praline357 @seitmai @cheyrenee @trickphotography2 @abaker74 @marrianena-library @angelbabyange @temptest13 @kmc1989 @im-an-adult-ish @chaoticassidy @inkandarsenic @lynnevanss @shanimallina87 @khaylin27 @mizzzpink @emma8895eb @hookslove1592 @leahnicole1219 @djs8891 @midnightmagpiemama @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @footprintsinthesxnd @roosterforme @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #star's schedule #star's sweet home alabama top gun au #WinterRomComChallenge

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Schedule for the Week of 12/24/2023 to 12/30/2023

Happy Holidays and a Merry Festivus, My Lovelies! For this very special Christmas Eve edition of the schedule, I have some season's greetings for you all!

But of course, I also have some writing, so here's the schedule!

12/25/2023 - TOMORROW - Merry Christmas! A Moodboard from my 300 Follower Celebration

12/26/2023 - TUESDAY - My Coyote Winter Fic for @bellaireland1981’s Winter RomCom Writing Challenge Part 2 of 2

12/27/2023 - WEDNESDAY - A Moodboard from my 300 Follower Celebration

12/29/2023 - FRIDAY - A Moodboard from my 300 Follower Celebration

12/30/2023 - SATURDAY - Chapter 9 of Sweet Home Alabama 

Tagging my lovelies on the taglists for these fics:  @atarmychick007 @the-romanian-is-bae @lt-spork  @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @praline357 @seitmai  @cheyrenee @trickphotography2 @abaker74  @marrianena-library @angelbabyange @temptest13 @kmc1989  @im-an-adult-ish @chaoticassidy @inkandarsenic @lynnevanss  @shanimallina87 @khaylin27 @mizzzpink @emma8895eb  @hookslove1592 @leahnicole1219 @djs8891  @midnightmagpiemama @desert-fern @horseshoegirl  @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun  @footprintsinthesxnd @roosterforme @mak-32 @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @beyondthesefourwalls

#star writes #star's schedule #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #star's sweet home alabama top gun au #winterromcomchallenge