#( and she just lets them hit the deck ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bueckii · 25 days ago

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͏✶ FIRE AND DESIRE. | PAIGE BUECKERS.

synopsis… you’re nervous after getting talked into a date with someone else. paige, who’s been in love with you for years, offers to show you how kissing should really feel.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader content warnings. # 6k words. slight angst. slightly suggestive. uconn!paige. best friend!paige. student!reader. college au. friends to lovers. mutual pining. jealousy. first kiss/makeout sesh. tw: a man makes an appearance for the plot. a/n: i love bun paige. anyways… first paige fanfic! i hope you all enjoy it :)

͏✶ i figure out you, you figure out me, we both a different breed, i’m followin' your lead, i ask you what you need …

finals were over. finally.

you walked out of that lecture hall feeling every heavy textbook, every sleepless night, every highlighter-stained page you’d read and reread since january falling off your shoulders all at once. the last exam was pretty fucking brutal, a three-hour stretch of silence and anxiety that clung to your skin like sweat, and when you scribbled the final answer in the last minute and handed that packet over, it felt like exhaling after months underwater.

it’s been a while since you’ve gotten relax fully, usually spending the night staring at the soft glow of your laptop at 2 a.m. when your eyes were too tired to focus but your brain refused to quit. you hadn’t gone out, hadn’t let yourself relax, hadn’t even realized how tightly wound you’d become until now as you stepping out into the afternoon sun.

the breeze hit your face, warm and a little humid, and you blinked against the light like you were seeing campus for the first time. everything around you buzzed as you glance over to a group of students laughing way too loud, to someone blasting music from a speaker, to a couple kissing under a tree like they hadn’t just suffered through biochem together, probably.

and then you saw her.

paige was leaning against the railing just outside the building, decked out in her uconn basketball gear like she always was—navy blue nike tech fleece, matching sweats, and her blonde hair pulled back into a loose bun.

she held up a coffee and a small paper bag (probably a sweet little pastry) with both hands, lifting them up as soon as she spotted you.

“yo, there she is,” she grinned, a silver chain glinting under her hoodie as she tilted her head.

you couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto your face, breath caught in your throat for a second, then laughed as you shook your head.

“how long have you been waiting?” you asked, walking towards her.

paige pushed off the railing, walking over like she had all the time in the world, one brow raised and mouth tugged into that goofy little smile she always seems to wear.

“just got here,” she teased, handing you the coffee. “how was it? you good?”

you took the cup from her, fingers brushing against hers for just a second too long you—warm skin, calloused in places from years of basketball.

“thanks… it was fine,” you muttered, already feeling the heat seep through your palms. “i’m just glad it’s over. finally.”

paige looked at you for a moment, then licked her bottom lip, eyes scanning your face the way she always did when she thought you weren’t paying attention.

you shook your head again, smiling into the cup as you took a sip, and tried not to notice how good she smelled—like cologne and clean laundry and something that always made your stomach twist just a little.

it was just paige. your best friend.

paige watched you while you weren’t looking.

you didn’t catch it—not fully—but if you had, you would’ve seen the way her smile slipped just a little as her eyes trailed over your face, lingering on the curve of your mouth, the way your lashes fluttered when you blinked down into your coffee, the soft breath of relief you let out like you were finally alive again.

and then, too fast for you to notice, she cleared her throat and looked away, pressing her lips together like they hadn’t just parted like she wanted to say something real.

“aight, come on,” she said, nudging your shoulder lightly with hers before stepping off the curb.

you walked in beside her automatically, like you always did.

“what’s in the bag?” you asked, glancing at it with a curious smile.

paige looked over at you, then back at the bag like she’d forgotten she was even holding it.

“mm,” she hummed, eyes squinting from the sun. “just a lil’ somethin’ sweet.”

you raised a brow, surprised. “is it for me?”

“obviously,” she said simply, flashing a grin. “’cause you don’t ever treat yourself. figured i’d help.”

you laughed under your breath, looking away before she could see the flush rising in your cheeks.

you assumed it was nothing. paige always did little things like this.

the two of you walked like that for a while, side by side, and all the while, the blonde was trying not to look at you the way she actually wanted to.

she’d been in love with you since the first time you met, and it was stupid, really—how fast it hit her. you were pretty. that was the first thing she noticed when she saw you in the gen ed class a couple years ago. gorgeous. soft-spoken. kind. and smart as hell. and you didn’t exactly know her yet. you didn’t really care for sports that much then until you became friends with her. you’d almost never missed a home game when she was playing.

and for paige, since then, she’d been completely, helplessly stuck on you.

but you were focused. you always had your head buried in a book or a study guide, always chasing the next goal. relationships and dates weren’t exactly a priority for you. and paige respected the hell out of that.

maybe that’s why she never said anything. never let it slip how much she thought about you, how your laugh always had the power to make her laugh, how your lip curled when you were deep in your thoughts, how you’d always manage fall asleep on her dorm bed when you guys were supposed to be studying and she’d sit there quietly to watch you with a smile before pulling her blanket over you. she’d make sure to set her alarm clock early enough so you don’t miss your classes.

she’d convinced herself being near you was enough.

and maybe it was.

until it started to feel like it wasn’t.

she was about to say something when you reached the steps outside the student center—nothing big, just ask what you were doing tonight, maybe see if you wanted to chill at her place, lowkey so she could selfishly keep you to herself a little longer—and she’d just opened her mouth when—

“oh my god, there you are!”

you barely had time to turn before riley, a friend of yours, appeared out of nowhere, practically bouncing with energy. her braid whipped behind her as she rushed up and wrapped an arm around your shoulder like she hadn’t just taken her last final an hour ago.

“finals are done!” she shouted like she was announcing it to the whole quad. “you’re coming to the party tonight, right? you’ve got to.”

you blinked, caught off guard.

your eyes flicked to paige instinctively, checking to see if she was gonna say something first. but she froze—her lips pressed tight into thin smile as she looked at riley.

riley grinned between the two of you and bumped your hip.

“c’mon, paige, tell her! she never even goes out. i swear this girl hasn’t left her room to go anywhere else except the library or a basketball game since freshman year.”

paige laughed a little—tight, forced.

“uh… yeah. nah, you guys should celebrate. y’all deserve it.”

she regretted it the second it left her mouth.

her stomach turned because you looked—just for a second—disappointed. like you’d been hoping she’d say something different. something just for you.

you nodded slowly, lips twitching as you were trying to figure out how to react.

“yeah, i’ll… i’ll think about it,” you said.

“yes! i’m texting you later, you better not bail!” riley clapped her hands, oblivious. then she turned to paige with a playful squint, “shouldn’t you be at practice, bueckers?”

“oh shit,” paige muttered, snapping her head down as she fumbled for her phone with one hand, nearly dropping the paper bag in the process. she thumbed the screen awake and squinted at the time. “damn… i was supposed to be there ten minutes ago.”

you looked at her, half-smiling. “go. geno won’t be happy.”

but paige didn’t move.

not right away.

she stayed turned toward you, jaw tight, her hand coming up to scratch the side of her head softly like she was trying to work something out in her head. her eyes found yours again.

she nods her head, finally deciding to follow your orders with a smile.

“yeah,” she said, her voice low—just for you. “okay.”

something in her tone made your breath hitch—not quite flirty, not quite serious, but something in between.

then her phone buzzed in her hand—twice.

probably a teammate. maybe geno.

she cleared her throat, finally stepping back with a quiet groan, dragging her hand down her face.

“aight. i gotta dip,” she said, backing up toward the sidewalk. “but make sure to eat that thing i got you, okay? i’m not tryna hear you skipped lunch again.”

you lifted the paper bag slightly and gave her a soft nod.

“thanks, paige.”

her lips curved into a grin. “anytime, ma.”

then she turned and jogged off, hood slipping back over her curls, her long strides already pulling her into the distance.

͏✶

you ended up going to the party.

you hadn’t planned to.

the party wasn’t really your scene. it never was.

you’d shown up mostly because riley wouldn’t let up, blowing up your phone all evening. so you threw on a simple dress, a little bit of your usual makeup, and told yourself it was just for an hour. two tops.

the party was already packed by the time you showed up. the living room of whoever’s off-campus house this was had been turned into a humid jungle of music and bodies, red solo cups stacked like pyramids on every surface, and someone yelling every ten minutes for no reason.

you stuck close to riley at first, sipping something fruity drink she handed you without asking, trying to find your footing in the crowd.

you weren’t really built for this scene, not in the way riley was.

you ended up near the kitchen, tucked into a quieter corner where the music didn’t shake the floor. that’s when he found you.

matt.

you remembered him from your sociology class last semester—he sat two rows behind you, always had clean notes. nice guy. maybe a little shy, always had a pen tucked behind his ear, and he asked solid questions during lectures.

but riley, standing a couple feet away with her drink in hand, kept giving you that look saying… go on. flirt. say yes.

you roll your eyes playfully.

“hey,” he said, a little surprised but genuinely happy to see you. “i didn’t think you came to stuff like this.”

you shrugged, smiling politely. “i usually don’t.”

“well… glad you did,” he said, leaning his shoulder against the wall beside you. “finals were hell, huh?”

you nodded, both of you laughing a little at the shared trauma. it was nice, the way he talked—easy, casual, nothing pushy.

but of course, riley popped up next to you halfway through the conversation.

“nice to see you finally hitting it off with someone,” she said with this knowing smile, eyes bouncing between the two of you.

you shake your head, cheeks warming. “we’re just talking.”

“mmhm,” riley said, bumping her hip into yours. “no, this is good. don’t mind me—just pretend i’m not even here.”

matt chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “uh, yeah. i was just asking her about post finals plans…”

“great question,” riley cut in like she was your hype man. “she has no plans. she’s free. totally available.”

“riley…” you shot her a look, somewhere between please stop and i’m going to kill you, but she just grinned. she meant well—she always did. she just thought you needed a little push.

you turned back to matt, trying to steer the conversation somewhere safer. “uh, anyway… how’d you think you did on that sociology final?”

he answered, and you listened, but the whole time you felt like your thoughts were somewhere else.

somewhere… or with someone.

but when matt, looking a little nervous, said, “so hey, uh… i was thinking—if you’re not too busy now that exams are over… maybe we could go see a movie this friday?”

you froze. not out of fear. just confusion.

your eyes darted to riley. she gave you a thumbs-up like you were about to step onto a stage.

your heart beat once. then twice.

“uh… yeah,” you heard yourself say. “sure. that sounds nice.”

fuck.

his eyebrows raised and he smiled. riley grinned wider than you’d ever seen her grin. and you should’ve felt proud. excited, even.

so why did your chest feel tight?

why did it feel like you’d done something wrong?

͏✶

you didn’t text paige right away when got back to your dorm.

you laid in bed for a while, makeup barely rubbed off, the party still ringing in your ears. your dorm was quiet now—your roommate gone for the weekend, the halls dead silent except for the occasional door shutting or someone’s music humming through the walls.

after a minute, you grabbed your phone, thumb hovering for a second before you gave in and opened the chat.

you: what are you up to?

you stared at the screen, heart already fluttering like you were fourteen again, like you hadn’t just said yes to some guy two hours ago.

the three dots appeared almost instantly.

paige: just got back from getting crumbl with the team. coach ran us hard today not even gonna lie

you smiled to yourself.

you: you tired? i can let you sleep lol

paige: nah i’m good. i’m tired but i like talkin to you. what’s up

you: riley dragged me to the party

paige: wow that’s impressive tbh soooooo how was it??

you paused, biting your bottom lip.

should you say it? it wasn’t a big deal. right? best friends tell each other these things.

your fingers hovered. then you typed.

you: so matt from my sociology class asked me to go to the movies with him sometime i said yes idk i think i just panicked

you waited.

and waited.

you saw the three dots pop up. your heart skipped. then the dots vanished.

you frowned, shifting in your bed, phone warm in your hand. a few seconds passed. they popped up again.

then, gone.

your stomach twisted.

then finally, they came back again.

paige: oh that’s cool

you stared at the screen.

three little words. dry as hell. no playful joke. no “u better tell him i’ll beat his ass if he messes it up”—none of the usual teasing, none of the softness she always texted you with, even when she was dead tired.

that’s cool.

you blinked, rereading it like maybe it’d change if you looked hard enough. your chest felt weird. not heavy exactly—just… unsettled.

you typed something. deleted it. typed again. deleted again.

you: yeah he seems pretty nice i guess

no reply.

you watched the screen like it owed you something.

and then, after a long pause—

paige: that’s good

nothing else.

why wasn’t she saying anything else? you could tell she was holding back. you could practically feel it through the screen.

and for some reason, that made your throat tighten. because you didn’t want her to be distant. you didn’t want her to just be cool with it.

on the other side of the campus, she wasn’t cool with it at all. not even a little bit.

she was laid out in her bed, one arm slung over her eyes like it could block out the heat crawling down her neck. her phone rested on her chest, screen still lit up with your message.

matt from my sociology class asked me out… i said yes.

“man, what?” she muttered to no one, heart pounding.

she was jealous. of course, she was.

but she should’ve seen it coming. should’ve known somebody else would shoot their shot eventually. you were smart, funny, gorgeous. hell, paige could barely go five minutes around you without wanting to touch your hand or kiss the corner of your mouth just to see how you’d taste when you smiled. honestly, she’s pretty proud of her strength.

so yeah. of course some dude was gonna ask you out.

but fuck, it hurts more than she’d like to admit.

she couldn’t even be mad at the guy. not really. but the thought of him sitting next to you in a dark movie theater, brushing fingers over the popcorn bag, leaning over to whisper something… kissing you—fuck, that made her want to throw her phone across the damn room.

she didn’t know how to say it, though. didn’t know how to tell you it bothered her without sounding upset.

she sat up, rubbed her hand down her face, then grabbed her phone again and stared at the chat.

yeah, he seems nice i guess

her jaw clenched.

she typed a bunch of things before sending a message.

you really like him?

deleted it.

typed again.

he’s not even your type tho.

deleted that too.

she tossed her phone to the side the second she finally sent a message and laid back down, arms crossed over her chest. she’d wanted to ask you to hang out tonight. just the two of you.

jealous was an understatement.

she felt miserable. she wasn’t even mad at you. not even close.

she was mad at herself.

for waiting too long. for playing it cool too well. for pretending she was fine just being your friend when every second spent next to you made her want more.

the idea of anyone else getting to have the version of you paige had been in love with since the moment you said hi to her felt wrong.

you didn’t even know what you were doing to her.

and the worst part?

she couldn’t even say it.

because you were just friends. best friends.

͏✶

it’d been three days.

at first, you didn’t think much of it.

you figured maybe she was just tired. practice, finals, team meetings, whatever. she’d said she was swamped. you told yourself she’d come back.

but then she didn’t.

you didn’t see her the next morning, or the one after that. no lazy walk across campus together like usual before classes, before practice.

just a couple dry texts saying “slept thru my alarm lol” or “coach called an early practice. my bad.”

you wanted to believe it. but it didn’t feel right.

paige wasn’t the type to flake. she’d shown up for you more times than you could count—when you were sick, when you were stressed, even that one time you almost cried in the middle of midterms week and she literally skipped film review to sit with you in the library and make you laugh.

so this felt weird. is it because of matt?

you stared at her last message.

your thumb hovered over the keyboard, debating whether to say what you really wanted to say or just brush it off like she clearly wanted you to.

but the truth was, it was starting to piss you off a little.

because you didn’t do anything wrong.

because it felt like she didn’t care.

or like she did, but chose to hide it from you.

you wanted her to just say whatever was on her mind.

something you thought a best friend would want to know.

you had wanted her to care a little more.

but you weren’t gonna chase someone who didn’t want to talk to you.

you tossed your phone onto your bed and let out a frustrated breath, arms crossed tight over your chest as you sat back in your desk chair, the silence in your dorm suddenly louder than ever.

if she was mad, she should’ve just said it. if she didn’t want to hang out, she should’ve just said that.

because paige always seemed to speak her mind.

now, she wasn’t.

so you decided to go see her.

you didn’t really think it through.

you just stood up, grabbed your hoodie, slipped on your shoes, and walked out. you honestly had no idea what you were even gonna say when you got there.

the walk to the girls’ basketball dorms wasn’t long. you knew the route like the back of your hand by now. you’d been there more times than you could count—movie nights, study sessions, lazy nights where paige would half-doze off on your shoulder while some random netflix show played in the background.

but tonight was different. honestly, you just… missed her. you missed her more than you were upset. and you didn’t know how to say that.

you made it to her floor, knocked softly.

you heard movement inside. muffled voices. the creak of the door.

it opened slowly, and there she was—paige, standing barefoot in sweats and a loose uconn tee, her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun on her head like she’d been napping.

she blinked at you, caught completely off guard.

“oh, hey…” she breathed, voice a little scratchy. “what are you doin’ here?”

her eyes scanned your face like she was trying to figure out if something was wrong, if you were upset, hurt, mad—anything.

but you didn’t say anything yet. you just looked at her. and she looked at you.

“oh, shit—” jana piped up from behind her, lounging on the bed with her phone still lit in her hand. she looked between the two of you with a raised brow, then smirked like she knew exactly what was going on. “i’ll head out.”

paige turned, “uh—”

“it’s okay, i’ll go annoy kk and aubrey,” jana said quickly, already grabbing her charger. “y’all… have fun. i will be bak to sleep, though.”

she squeezed past you with a grin and a knowing glance before disappearing down the hall.

paige rubbed the back of her neck, stepping aside so you could walk in. you did, slow and quiet.

the room was a little messy—hoodies tossed on her desk chair, a gatorade bottle half-drank on the nightstand, her slides kicked off at the foot of the bed. the tv was playing something muted, but paige picked up the remote and shut it off without a word.

she turned to you, hands on her hips now. her eyes were tired, but they softened the second she really looked at you. and that look alone made your chest pull.

“you okay?” she asked, quieter now.

you nodded slowly

“i just… haven’t seen you.”

paige pressed her lips together, jaw flexing for half a second. she looked down at the floor, then back up at you.

“yeah,” she said. “i know. my bad.”

she meant it. you could see it all over her face.

paige sat down slowly on the edge of her bed. she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together, eyes fixed on the floor, trying to avoid your eyes.

you stood there for a second, unsure if you should sit too.

but you did—right beside her, the mattress dipping as you sat.

you spoke first.

“you said you’ve been busy?”

paige didn’t answer right away. her eyes stayed on the floor. her foot tapped once. twice.

then, finally—

“uh, yeah,” she said. “i’m sorry.”

you glanced at her, taking in the slope of her shoulders, the small furrow between her brows.

“are you mad at me?”

paige let out a dry little laugh, not unkind, just tired.

“no. never that.”

you waited. gave her space to say more.

and after a moment, she did.

“i just been… trying to stay in my lane, i guess?” she said, afraid of saying too much. “you’ve got shit going on. i don’t wanna mess that up.”

you tilted your head. “mess what up?”

she shrugged. “i mean—someone asked you out. that’s… that’s good, right? you deserve that. somebody to treat you nice. do all that movie and dinner shit.”

your heart twinged a little.

“we’re not even—” you started, then sighed. “it’s just one movie, paige. it’s not serious. really.”

she nodded slowly, still not looking at you. but her jaw clenched again.

“yeah… still. i don’t wanna be all up in your space if you wanna, you know… see where that goes.”

you stared at her then, finally realizing—she wasn’t just being distant. she was pulling away to protect something. maybe you. maybe herself. maybe both.

you reached over, nudging your shoulder lightly against hers, “you’re never all up in my space. i… i actually didn’t like not seeing you.”

paige’s lips pressed together to form the tiniest smile. her voice was almost too soft to hear.

“yeah?”

you nodded.

“yeah.”

she swallowed hard, fingers playing with the drawstring of her sweats.

she was scared.

maybe that’s why she hadn’t said anything.

why she bit her tongue that night you texted her about it. why she ghosted you a little.

because the truth was—paige was scared as hell.

not scared of you. not even scared of rejection.

she was scared of losing you. she’d rather stay quiet than lose you completely.

this friendship meant too much. you meant too much.

and yeah, she’d wanted more for a long time. she’d dreamt about it almost everyday. stubborn little dreams she kept buried deep, like kissing you goodnight on the nights you stayed over, or holding your hand without needing a reason. she’d replayed the sound of your laughter, the way your smile looked, the way you looked at her and imagined what it would feel like to press her lips against yours. to feel you beneath her fingers, her palms, hands that were calloused and bigger than yours.

but she really didn’t wanna fuck it up.

because if you didn’t feel the same way… if you looked at her and only saw your best friend…

that would be it. no do-over.

so paige sat next to you, heart pounding in her chest, blue eyes locked on the floor, still pretending like everything was normal.

you sat quietly there for a moment, fiddling with the hem of your skirt, your knee brushing lightly against paige’s.

so you glanced at her, your voice barely above a whisper, “i’m nervous about it, actually.”

paige looked up, finally meeting your eyes.

the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease, but her eyebrows raised slightly like she wasn’t expecting you to say that. like she thought you’d be excited, glowing, already picking outfits and… all that.

“the movie?” she asked, trying to be casual.

you nodded slowly. “the whole thing. just… going out. with a guy. like that.”

she didn’t say anything right away. and if she was trying to keep her face neutral, she was failing just a little.

you kept going, letting the words fall out before you could overthink them.

“i’ve never really done any of it. dating. being out with someone. i think the last date i went to was in high school… and i can barely even remember any of it. i’ve had crushes, sure, but nothing ever really… happened.” you breathed in through your nose. “and now i said yes and i don’t even know what i’m doing.”

paige’s licked her lips, but she didn’t speak. her eyes scanned your face like she was memorizing it.

“i mean, what if it gets awkward?” you mumbled. “what if he tries to kiss me and i… i don’t even know how to—”

you stopped yourself, cheeks burning all of a sudden.

paige blinked. sat up straighter, her brows raised even higher now.

“you never kissed nobody before?”

“i have, stupid.” you blurted out fast, but glanced away soon after, embarrassed. “just… not like… that.”

she leaned back a little, nodding slowly. she didn’t tease you. didn’t laugh. but something in her chest cracked open, just a little.

now, all she could think about and look at were… your lips. how soft they looked. like they were calling her in.

all she wanted to do was be the person you felt safe with.

you were still staring down at your hands, thumbs twisting the fabric of your sleeve, when paige said it.

she didn’t know what made her say it.

“i… i could show you?”

and then it was like all the oxygen got sucked out the room.

you looked up, eyes wide, lips parting just slightly.

and paige—

fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck.

she blinked, sat upright like she could somehow backpedal physically—

“i didn’t—i-i mean—” she let out a breath, raking a hand over her face. she laughed, but it was awkward and nervous and too high in her throat.

you didn’t say anything. you were just looking at her.

and that was somehow worse.

she sat forward, elbows back on her knees, face in her hands for a second like she could disappear there.

“yo, ignore me. it’s late… i-i just—i don’t know what i’m saying—“

she was talking fast now, trying to fill the space, trying to pretend like her heart wasn’t racing and her palms weren’t clammy and her lips didn’t suddenly ache.

god, she wanted to throw herself out the window.

i could show you. what the fuck was that?

she rubbed the back of her neck, still not looking at you, her voice dropping to a grumble.

“sorry… forget i said anything.”

and then—so quietly she almost missed it—paige heard you whisper:

“…okay.”

her head shot up like she wasn’t sure she actually heard you right. eyes wide, lips parted, breath caught somewhere between her chest and her throat.

“what?”

you were already rambling, the same as she was, like the words were tumbling out before you could stop them.

“i mean—not like for real for real, just—just to, like, try. not a whole thing, i just—I don’t know—i mean, only if you want to. obviously. if that was a joke, then—then forget it—”

“no,” paige cut in quickly, almost too quickly. “no, i wasn’t playing.”

her voice cracked just slightly at the end, and she cleared her throat, sitting up straighter. her heart was pounding so hard she thought you might hear it.

“you sure?” she asked softly.

you nodded, just once. small. shy.

and her stomach flipped.

paige let out the tiniest breath as if she’d been holding it since you walked through the door. her shoulders dropped just a little, and the corner of her lips tugged up, that slow, crooked little smirk curling on paige’s lips as if she’d just remembered exactly who she was.

your face flushed instantly the moment you saw her smile, and paige bit back a grin, watching the way your lips parted.

the nerves from a moment ago vanished, replaced that same confidence she carried everywhere with her.

you squinted at her, giving her a look, “you’re being cocky.”

paige’s eyes flicked to yours, her grin widening before she shook her head quickly—lying straight through her teeth.

“i’m not,” she said.

she absolutely was. and she knew it.

you raised a brow, and she chuckled—deep and a little smug now, clearly loving the way you were already squirming.

then she scooted closer on the bed, so close now her thigh pressed against yours. her arm slid behind you slowly, palm resting flat against the mattress just barely behind your back. her fingers curled like they were thinking about reaching for your waist, but she didn’t rush it.

she was warm beside you—close enough for you to smell her perfume, feel her breath, see the way her lashes lowered when she looked at your lips again. her fingers tapped lightly against the bed behind you, brushing your lower back. her touch was barely there, but it was all you could think about.

paige leaned in just a little more, her breath brushing warm against your cheek, before murmuring softly.

“close your eyes,” she whispered.

you did. slowly.

and the second your eyes fluttered shut, paige froze. just for a moment.

her breath caught in her throat. her heart kicked hard against her ribs.

holy fuck.

her eyes roamed your face—so close, so trusting, your lips parted just slightly, your chest rising and falling like you were bracing for something you didn’t even understand yet. and somehow, somehow, you wanted her to be the one to teach you.

her fingers flexed against the mattress, resisting the urge to wrap around your waist like they wanted to. her throat was dry, her head spinning. she couldn’t believe this was happening.

she exhaled slowly, trying to calm her racing thoughts, but it was no use.

is this really happening?

she tilted her head, just a little, lips hovering.

paige was already going through it before you even closed your eyes. you, sitting on her bed, in that big oversized hoodie swallowing your frame but not enough to hide the fact that you were wearing a skirt underneath, knees brushing hers when you sat down next to her.

you looked so good it made her chest ache. but it wasn’t just how you looked—it was you.

and now, you were sitting in front of her, eyes closed, waiting.

you looked so pretty like this.

god.

it took everything in her to keep it together.

paige reached up with one hand and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

she smiled.

then, finally, you felt her lips brush yours.

paige kissed you slow. and sweet. her lips felt like the softest thing you’d ever touched. you could feel the warmth radiating from her mouth, and the slight tremble beneath her lips that told you this made her nervous just as it made you.

her other hand drifted down without her realizing it, settling gently on your thigh.

you responded without thinking, your hand creeping up to rest over the fabric of her shirt at her chest. your fingers hesitated for a second, then your fingers slid up, tracing the curve of her shoulder before reaching around her neck.

paige’s breath hitched slightly against your lips, and you felt the tiniest tremor in her body, surprised by how close you’d gotten.

she was nervous—damn near shaking—but also so fucking sure of every little thing happening.

you taste so good.

all those nights she’d imagined this moment played over and over in her head, every detail perfect, every touch just how she dreamed it would be. she’d wondered what it would feel like to kiss you—really kiss you—not just in her daydreams but for real.

and fuck, it’s even better than she imagined.

paige pressed her lips a little deeper, letting the kiss deepen slowly, humming against your lips. and, just as her mouth moved softly against yours, she felt it.

a tiny, breathy gasp escaping you, so soft it was almost swallowed by the silence. the faintest, tiniest moan, barely there, against her mouth.

it was so small, so delicate, paige almost thought she’d imagined it.

her breath hitched. her heart slammed against her ribs.

paige’s fingers dug just a little into your thigh, desperate for something to hold onto, inching slightly underneath the fabric of your skirt.

and paige knew, right then, she was completely, utterly, deliciously addicted to every part of you.

she wanted more. needed more.

fuck—

she pulled back just slightly, her breathing shallow and ragged.

she knew she was getting carried away. losing control faster than she wanted to admit.

so she paused, her forehead resting softly against yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.

“can i keep going?” she whispered against your lips.

you blinked slowly, your breath still fluttering from the kiss, heart pounding in your chest like a drum. the warmth of paige’s hand, rough and calloused from years of basketball, on your thigh sent a shiver up your spine.

you met her eyes and nodded almost softly.

“yeah,” you whispered back, barely more than a breath. “please.”

your fingers twitched, fingertips scratching the back of her neck.

paige’s smile deepened, her eyes sparkling with something fierce and tender all at once, and without another word, she leaned in again and—

“yo, can i come in now or what?”

jana’s voice called from the other side.

you and paige pulled away from each other instantly, breath catching in your throat, your hand falling from her neck as her palm slid quickly off your thigh.

paige blinked, dazed, like her mind hadn’t even caught up to her body yet. her lips were still parted, her eyes still locked on yours like she couldn’t quite believe what just happened.

then she turned toward the desk, slowly, glancing at the clock glowing on her nightstand.

1:27 a.m.

she shut her eyes tight and dropped her head forward, letting it hang for a second as she exhaled hard. not at jana. just at the timing. at the fact that her favorite kiss in the world had just been cut short.

damn it.

“i-i should…” you started, voice shaky, still catching your breath, “i should probably go.”

paige looked up at you, her heart twisting. she didn’t want you to. not yet. but she nodded anyway.

“yeah… yeah, okay,” she murmured, rubbing the back of her neck.

you stood up slowly, brushing your hands against your skirt, then looked back at her, lips parting, unsure of what to even say after all that. your cheeks were still warm and your heart was beating a mile a minute.

“t-thanks for um…” you paused, swallowing. “for showing me.”

paige looked at you then. she nodded once, lips tugging into a lopsided smile.

“anytime,” she said, a little hoarse.

she pushed herself up on her feet, her hand brushing against her sweats like she wasn’t sure what to do with it now—whether to reach for you again, or just let you go.

she shifted her weight awkwardly, glancing at the door, then back at you, a little hesitant to speak.

“do you want me to walk you back—”

but you were already shaking your head, offering her a small, flustered smile as you stepped toward the door.

“n-no, it’s okay,” you said quickly, eyes darting anywhere but her. “i… i can walk on my own.”

paige’s mouth opened slightly like she wanted to say something else, but she didn’t push. she just nodded, once.

“aight.”

and she watched you reach for the door, her chest still rising and falling. her fingers twitched at her side, wanting to hold you there.

but she stayed still.

and when you glanced back at her one last time, paige just looked at you—eyes soft, jaw tense, heart full of a million things she still couldn’t say.

“get home safe,” she said gently. “text me when you’re in.”

you nodded again, your hand tightening around the doorknob.

“i will.”

you opened the door just as paige stepped up behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her all over again.

and there stood jana, arms crossed, one brow lifted, clearly waiting.

“well damn,” jana said, smirking as her eyes darted between you and paige. “finally.”

you gave her a soft smile, feeling the heat spread across your cheeks, “hey, jana. sorry, i didn’t mean to take up your room this long.”

jana just waved a hand, stepping aside so you could pass, “don’t worry about it. i was just getting a little sleepy. i think p. boogers over here forgot we have practice early tomorrow morning.”

you gave a quiet laugh and tucked your hands into the sleeves of your hoodie, glancing back one last time. “goodnight, guys.”

paige held the door open, silent, her eyes glued to your back as you walked down the hall. she didn’t say anything. she just stared. and watched as you disappeared around the corner. only when she couldn’t see you anymore did she finally close the door.

then she dropped her forehead against the wood with a groan. long. loud. half frustration, half complete emotional combustion.

jana raised an eyebrow from across the room, already toeing off her shoes, “so y’all kissed or what?”

paige reached blindly for the nearest pillow and launched it at her.

“shut up.”

jana caught it, laughing as she plopped onto her bed.

“ooh, y’all kissed.”

“yo. shut. up.”

masterlist | © bueckii.

#bueckii.#pb5 ' ★#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #wbb #wnba #paige bueckers x fem!reader #fanfic #wnba x reader #wbb x reader #women’s basketball #uconn wbb #fanfiction #wlw #smut

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barnesunlight · 10 months ago

Note

A female f1 driver who was featured in the barbie movie as the f1 driver. You could write about her scene and working with the Margot and Ryan lol, and how the grid reacts to it. Lanpd could be her bf or not if you don't want.

You don't have to absolutely write if it doesn't strike any inspiration and you obviously can write whatever you want you xoxo

barbie girl | redbull!reader

pairing: f1 grid x reader

summary: redbull!reader does a cameo in the barbie movie

part of my ‘redbull!reader’ series

liked by alex_albon, landonorris, and 816,027 others!

yourusername: this barbie is a f1 driver! 🎀 barbie is out now in theaters near you <33 (or not near you? idk where you lot live)

view comments below!

user1: yn is just hitting all these side quests because what?

user1: happy for her tho!

user2: is this what it’s like to be so rich that you can literally do whatever you want?

user3: YN CAMEO!!!!

user4: WE CHEERED

user5: omw to see barbie now

landonorris: i know where you live

user6: can someone tell me her part in the movie? my parents won’t let me see it 😓

user7: she’s a f1 driver barbie, and she’s gets into a relationship with f1 driver ken (played by glen powell) throughout the movie you could see like snippets of them going from friends to bf and gf!! you could probably find some clips on youtube or something :)

user6: thank you <33

user7: GLEN POWELL????

user8: THE CAPYBARA GUY???

charles_leclerc: i can be your ken 😊

yourusername: no thank you i already have my glen ken!

charles_leclerc: but he can’t drive a REAL f1 car

yourusername: i can teach him

charles_leclerc: FINE

charles_leclerc: BE LIKE THAT THEN

charles_leclerc: I DONT CARE

charles_leclerc: GOSH

glenpowell: i would like to make it very clear that i have no interest in learning how to drive a f1 car!

charles_leclerc: NO ONE CARES GLEN

user9: i love when yn posts because i just know the comments are going to be filled with the drivers acting like they have no decorum

landonorris: i know where you live

alex_albon: movie night?

maxverstappen1: i already watched it

georgerussell63: we know…we all saw the picture of you decked out in pink at the movie theater

user10: LMAO

user11: it makes so much sense that the first time we see max in pink is when he’s supporting yn

lewishamilton: so excited to see it! 🩷

yourusername: love you 💚

charles_leclerc: I LOVE YOU TOO YN

maxverstappen1: i want love

alex_albon: can’t remember the last time you said that to me…sigh…

georgerussell63: love me next?

oscarpiastri: playing favorites i see 🤨

landonorris: i love you too 🥰

user12: bring back shame

user13: their desperation makes me sick

oscarpiastri: i guess ill watch barbie now

yourusername: why are you pretending like you weren’t the first to ask me for spoilers?

oscarpiastri: no clue what you’re talking about???

yourusername: mhm sure osc sure

user14: osc 🥹

landonorris: i know where you live

yourusername: what is wrong with you?

landonorris: i’m outside your door

user15: it’s official, lando is killing yn so he can win more races

. . .

notes: thank you for requesting!! hope you don’t mind i used this for my redbull!reader au :)

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emeraldserenade · 1 month ago

Text

Heart Glasses ~ Robert "Bob" Floyd

synopsis: You meet your husband's new squadron one by one, all without them knowing who you truly were

tw: fem!reader, reader wears glasses, reader's mom's maiden name is Hearts, Bob's from Montana, suggestive, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

This was purely because I've been getting more strangers complimenting my heart shaped glasses

➽──────────────❥

Robert Floyd was a private person, everyone who meets him can attest to it. But, the one thing he could never keep quiet about, was his wife. The very same wife who the Dagger Squad had never met and had never seen a photo of.

"Are we even sure baby on board even has a wife?" Jake, stupidly, asked. The others ignored him, Bob wasn't one to lie and they've all seen the ring and heard the one sided phone calls.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

It was Natasha that met you first, you were in the same store as her and she had spotted your glasses from farther away.

"Hi, I just wanted to tell you that I love your glasses," Natasha said as she walked up, you smiled over at her.

"Oh, thank you! My husband got them for me because my mom's maiden name is Hearts," you told her. You noticed her uniform before speaking next, "Are you Navy?"

"I am," she told you, then recited her callsign. You smiled at her, told her that was a cooler call sign, and then you two said your goodbyes before leaving. As you walked away, you realized that had to be the Phoenix your husband was back seating for.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You met Bradley next, your dad was also an enjoyer of Hawaiian shirts and his birthday was coming up. You saw a man walking around the same store you were in holding the perfect one for your father.

"Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, but where did you find that shirt?" You questioned the taller stranger.

"Oh, back there," Bradley pointed behind him snd your eyes caught sight of the shirt.

"Thank you!" You told him, racing off with a muted goodbye.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Bradley and Natasha figured out their stranger interactions had been the same person at the Hard Deck a few days later.

"I ran into the woman who asked where I found this shirt at the mall the other day," Bradley told the group. "She had these heart glasses and it was like her whole face lit up when I told her," Bradley said, he was lamenting the fact that he never asked if she was single.

"Wait," Natasha cut in. "Did she have a black purse with a butterfly attachment and y/h/c hair?" Natasha questioned. y/h/c = your hair color

"Yeah, how did you know?" Bradley questioned, his face scrunched in confusion.

"That's the woman I complimented on her glasses! She's married, her husband got her glasses for her," Natasha told Bradley, her face twisting into disgust at his earlier words of wanting to take her out.

"Damn, that's one lucky man then," Bradley mused, everyone missing the small grin growing on Bob's face. He had figured you were the one they were talking about.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Mickey was the next to meet you, he had recognized your description from the others and wanted to double check you were you. You were just walking to your car from work.

"Hi, this may sound weird but did you ask a taller man with a mustache about a Hawaiian shirt and get complimented on your glasses by a woman whose call sign is Phoenix?" Mickey rushed out before you could run away from the odd question.

"Oh, yeah, why?" You had subtly taken a step back from him.

"I'm in their squadron! They will never believe that I met you," Mickey pumped his fist in the air and you relaxed.

"Oh, well, hello," you laughed gently, your smile easy. "What do they call you?"

"Fanboy, but my name's Mickey, ma'am," he offered his hand and you shook it.

"Nice to meet you Mickey," you offered your name before walking away, you got in the car and let yourself laugh even harder. These were definitely the people from your husband's squadron.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Jake was next, he hit on you before you even looked at him.

"What's a darling lady like you doing alone?" Jake slid into your space, you were grocery shopping for breakfast while Bob slept in a bit.

"Mu husband's asleep," you told him, turning to face him.

"Wait, no way, you're the infamous y/n?" He perked up and you realized what was happening.

"Are you another from the group of people from the same squadron that I keep running into?" You questioned, a humorous smile growing on your face.

"I am, the name's Hangman," he offered his hand and you shook it.

"Well, I have no idea how many more of you there are," you lied. "But tell the others I'm excited to run into them as well," you bit him farewell while leaving, missing Jake pulling his phone out to text the Dagger Squad group.

Bagman: You'll never guess who I ran into Phoenix: Heart glasses y/n? Bagman: At the grocery store Rooster: You hit on her, didn't you? Fanboy: He most definitely did Phoenix: Did she bring up her husband? Bagman: She did Payback: I was supposed to meet her next! Coyote: I call next time

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You met Ruben next, much to Javy's dismay. You were at the gym and Ruben couldn't find his earbud case.

"Hi, sorry," Ruben automatically apologized when you slightly jumped. "I didn't mean to scare you, it's just that I was using this machine earlier and I can't find my earbud case. Have you seen one around here by chance?"

"Oh, is it blue?" You questioned, your glasses slowly falling down your face. It brought them to Ruben's attention and you saw him get excited.

"Yeah, it is, you wouldn't happen to be y/n, would you?"

"I am, are you apart of that Navy squadron?" You grabbed the blue earbud case you had seen under the machine earlier and handed it to him.

"That I am," he affirmed and you gave him a small smile. "Thanks for this," he lifted the case up just enough for you to see it.

"You're welcome,' you paused, waiting for his name.

"Payback or Ruben, ma'am," he told you and you nodded once. You two went your separate ways and as you left for the locker room, you texted your husband.

My Girl ❤️: I ran into another one of your friends My Cowboy 🤠 ❤️: Who was it? My Girl ❤️: Payback, he was nice. Called me ma'am and only approached me because he lost his earbud case My Cowboy 🤠 ❤️: You've got one left to meet My Girl ❤️: I know, they act like they're all meeting me. I'm meeting them My Girl ❤️: Also I'm very sweaty and it will be your problem when I get home. I'm going to be all over you My Cowboy 🤠 ❤️: I can't wait

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

The last to meet you was Javy, he saw you as you walked into the hangar. You were there to pick up Bob since you had to borrow his truck while your car was in the shop, and Javy recognized your description right away.

"Holy shit, you're y/n! I'm Coyote or Javy!" He practically shouted, causing many to look over at you. You were suddenly surrounded by the entire squadron, questions flying at you faster than you could process.

Your savior came in the form of your husband, as always. His hand wrapped around your wrist and gently pulled you to him, his hand slipping right to it's home on your waist. "Are you ok?" Bob lowly asked in your ear, you nodded with a bright smile on your face.

"Wait," Jake called out but his shock made him pause. "Your husband's baby on board?"

"Yeah, my husband's Bob," you told him, your eyes sharpening at the name Jake called him.

"How long have you known who we were?" Natasha asked.

"Since you, well, I didn't know who Bradley was until Bobby came home and told me. I'm sorry for never asking your name to properly thank you," you apologized to the man but he waved you off.

"I think that's ok, I did accidentally tell your husband how I was upset at myself for never asking you out," Bradley told you and you laughed at the feeling of Bob tightening his hold on you.

"He told me about that, while I appreciate two of you thinking I'm attractive, I am very happy in my marriage," you told them, it was enough to snap Jake out of his shock.

"How the hell did Bob bag you?" Jake exclaimed and you looked over at him again.

"He's got a huge," Bob cut you off with a tug away from the others.

"Ok, that's enough," your husband told you with ear tipped ears. You gave him a sweet smile as you heard the laughter from his squad. Bob led you away from them and out of the building and to the car. "You're going to pay for that," Bob told you as he started his truck, his hand landing on your thigh.

"I can't wait," you told him, your smile widening just a little bit more.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #top gun x reader #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman

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callsign-bobsgirl · 10 months ago

Text

Baby On Board

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

“You see the guy in the Hawaii print?”

“Uh-huh”

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

“Yeah?”

“Phoenix.”

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

“Mr. and Mrs. Bob!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you ask.

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

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

You nod, still not getting where the miscommunication lies.

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

Right as you emphatically exclaim, “fucks!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____________________________________________

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

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

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick #robert bob floyd x reader #top gun fanfiction

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noredemptionhere · 4 months ago

Text

𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂 ⋆˙⟡♡ 𝚆𝙸𝙵𝙴!𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙸𝙺𝙰 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼!𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁

no warnings—just fluff

ᡣ𐭩| sevika isn’t ticklish. except in one spot. you found it by accident, barely brushed your fingers there, and she flinched. the realization hit you both at the same time. she narrowed her eyes. “don’t.” you grinned. “got your ass.”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika is secretly the biggest hypocrite. tells you to “be careful” but gets into fights twice a week. says she “doesn’t like sweets” but always steals bites from your dessert. acts like she’s all serious, but the moment you’re out of sight? she’s wrapping herself in your blanket like a burrito.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika rarely gets sick, but when she does? she’s miserable. won’t admit she’s sick, won’t take medicine, just sulks in bed with a blanket over her face. you try to help, and she just groans, “leave me here to die.”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika makes the worst coffee. it’s either jet fuel or straight-up bean water—there is no in-between. and yet, she still drinks it like it’s fine. if you complain, she just slides the cup toward you. “all you jealous bitches got nothing on me.”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika is good at cards. too good. it’s infuriating. she doesn’t even try. she just sits there, unreadable, waiting for you to make a mistake. when you finally do lose, she just smirks, shuffling the deck with lazy precision. “wanna go again?”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika does not ‘scoot over.’ if you want to sit beside her, you make it work. you push at her, wriggle into the smallest available space, throw a leg over hers—and she still won’t move. just lets you struggle until you’re satisfied, smirking the entire time.

ᡣ𐭩| she does not like sticky things. syrup? hate. honey? disgust. the one time you kissed her after eating a popsicle, she physically recoiled. you had to follow her around the apartment with sticky lips while she threatened to throw you out.

ᡣ𐭩| she talks in her sleep. not often, but when she does, it’s nonsense. once, she mumbled, “no, i don’t want the frog,” and you spent weeks trying to figure out what it meant. she refuses to acknowledge this ever happened.

ᡣ𐭩| her sneezes are terrifying. she tries to hold them back, but when they come out, it’s like a gunshot. the first time it happened, you screamed. she laughed so hard she had to sit down.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika’s hands are always warm. annoyingly so. you press your cold fingers against her just to hear her complain, and she always does. “fuck’s sake—” but she doesn’t pull away. just sighs and lets you steal her warmth like the menace you are.

ᡣ𐭩| she has a soft spot for the dumb things you love. that one stupid tv show you’re obsessed with? she’s seen every episode. that weird little stuffed animal you’ve had since childhood? guarded with her life. she pretends to be indifferent, but then you catch her muttering about the plot holes in your favorite series like it personally offended her.

ᡣ𐭩| she grumbles when you move too much in bed. full-on, deep-chested grumbling, like a bear being disturbed from hibernation. you shift once? she sighs. you shift again? she tightens her grip. the third time? “seriously?” and suddenly you’re locked in place.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika has the world’s worst sleep schedule. she’ll tell you she’s going to bed early, and then you’ll wake up at 3 AM to find her standing in the kitchen, eating leftovers with her fingers and flipping through a book she has been obsessed with like she’s solving a murder case.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika cannot whisper. she thinks she can, but her whisper is just her normal voice, slightly lower. if she tries to say something discreet in public, people from across the room will turn to look. you’ve stopped letting her tell you secrets in quiet places.

ᡣ𐭩| she refuses to eat the last bite of anything. no explanation. no logic. just a deep-seated refusal to finish a plate completely. she’ll sit there, arms crossed, staring at the single remaining bite like it personally offended her. you’ve started eating it for her out of spite.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika hates when you’re mad at her. not because she can’t handle it—she can. but because she doesn’t know what to do. she just kind of… hovers. pokes at you. drops things near you so you have to pick them up and acknowledge her existence.

ᡣ𐭩| she thinks she’s subtle when she checks you out. she is not. she does the whole slow, full-body glance, then immediately acts like she wasn’t just devouring you with her eyes.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika sighs like she’s got a mortgage and three kids. you’ll say something mildly annoying, and she’ll exhale like she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. you once asked her why she does that. she just looked at you and sighed again.

ᡣ𐭩| she pretends she doesn’t like sweets. but every time you get something sugary, she takes a bite. every. single. time. and if you ever try to call her out on it, she just shrugs. “tastes better when it’s yours.”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika acts like she’s above petty behavior—but she’s not. one time, you jokingly called another woman “pretty,” and for the rest of the night, sevika miraculously forgot how to do anything for herself. needed help unbuckling her belt, unbuttoning her shirt, everything.

#sevika headcanon #sevika #arcane sevika #arcane #sevika x reader

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moon-fics · 2 months ago

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lewis pullman brainrot rn 🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️bob floyd x flirty reader 👀 how would he react???

Ugh I love this! I love talking about Bob Floyd and I need to write fics for him. Lewis Pullman the man you are!

I like to think that Bob enjoys being quiet and observing the world around him.

He doesn't mind just listening to conversations, but he'll chime in when he can.

So, when you approach him at the Hard Deck and start a conversation with just him, he's surprised.

There are a large amount of men around who would chat you up a storm if you asked.

Yet, here you are focusing on him.

Well, that's enough to get his heart pumping.

Even before you start flirting with him, he's stumbling over his words.

He keeps the conversation going for a while because he keeps asking about you.

Meanwhile, you keep making compliments on his job and his appearance.

He's not stupid, and he's been flirted with before. So, he picks up on your interest in him pretty quickly.

The only difference between you and the other women who hit on him is that you're genuine.

You want to know about him and what he does. This only furthers his struggle to speak.

---

"Wait, so your call sign is just Bob? It's just your name?" You let out a laugh. He nods while a large smile spreads across his face. "Alright, I can dig that." You say.

The bar is loud from other pilots yelling and the music blasting. Yet, your voice rings clearly in his ears. You've been talking for nearly two hours, and he enjoys every second of it. The way you lean into him every once in a while, and how your eyes never wander from him.

"Yeah, well, it's better than Hangman," He chuckles. You don't know the context, but the name is enough to ward you from whoever it is.

"I think Bob has a better ring to it. It's welcoming and a name I'd love to say often," She hums. His heart nearly stops, but he keeps his smile spread on his lips. There's a pause between them where she seems to be waiting for something. "That was your cue to ask me out." She teases.

"Oh!" He says loudly while putting his cup of peanuts on the floor. If he's going to ask you out, he's going to do it properly. "Will you honor me with a date?" He asks.

The moment you say yes is the moment he knows he wants to spend as much time with you as possible.

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #lewis pullman #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x you #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd

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thoughtsforsoob · 6 months ago

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how ateez shows their gf princess treatment <3

note: I hope this work finds you well! I really want to make this look good so please let me know if anything should be edited. Thank you and please enjoy.

hongjoong

you're his PRINCESS! he takes it so seriously too. he puts a ring on your finger as soon as possible and treats you like actually royalty. is at your beck and call 24/7. his fsvorite thing to do is take you to events and show you off to all his friends and colleagues. "this is my wife. isn't she so beautiful? shes so smart and talented too." will show you off to anywhere and everyone. he's just so in love with you. he also let's you into his studio and has a special chair for you and plenty of pillows and blankets.

seonghwa

dresses you up in the finest clothing ever. sure, if you already have your clothes that you like that arent from any big name brands, he's not gonna toss them out or anything. he's only going to add your collection. designer bags, clothes, shoes, and even glasses if you wear them. he'll deck you out in only the more coveted brands.

yunho

he will turn off any game for you at any time if you ask for his attention. he wouldn't do this for anyone else but you. you're his special princess so you take priority over his games. he also teaches you all about his hobbies and take you to all the cool pop up's and museums. if you want anything, he always makes sure to get it for you.

yeosang

takes care of you with everything! literally everything. he may be a busy idol but he makes sure you take your vitamins, do your morning and night routines, take a little bit of personal time, and everything else. if you're studying, he'll make sure you take a break. he'll run your a warm bath and make you something to eat after. he gives mother hen vibes but it's not in an annoying, naggy way. he just loves you and want's to make sure you're healthy.

san

picks you up and carries you everywhere. he's so strong and he loves showing off his strength to you. if you're siting on the couch, minding your own business, he'll throw you over his shoulder and take you up to your shared bed room. he also carries everything for you, especially shopping or grocery bags. his princess should never carry anything.

mingi

buys everything for you! mingi needs a gf that is okay with him paying for everything but he will literally lose it if you pay for him. he has the mindset that dudes should pay for everything and take care of their partners, but it's not like in a toxic way where he won't let you work or anything. he would just prefer that your money goes towards spoiling yourself (although you never need to because he spoils you so much).

wooyoung

i have two for him so hang on tight. wooyoung is such a romantic and i cannot express that enough, first of all, he drives you everywhere! he would rather get hit by a train than let you ride the said train all alone. if he can drive you, he is going to drive you. also...he lovesss taking you on 3-4 day trips around the world. he takes you to paris, tokyo, la, Shanghai....everywhere! takes care of everything too. ugh i want my own wooyoung (im so scared of driving please drive me!)

jongho

he lets you sit on his lap. even if you get shy or complain that you're too heavy. he lterally does not care. he will pull you down onto his lap and bear hug you so you can't get up or leave. he thinks you look so cute and just like a princess when you're sitting on his lap.

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fic #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

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loves0phelia · 8 months ago

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hello! hope you’re okay after the ending, honestly I don’t think any of us are.

I wanted to request a rafe x pogue reader where it’s that boat storm scene and instead of Sarah falling it’s reader and she’s just drowning and Rafe jumps in after her. He doesn’t know why he did it but he just has a soft spot for her and it’s just really angsty but also cute.

thanks! I love your account btw!

In The Sea

Summery: the anon

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: grammar mistakes

A\N: thank you to everyone who has been requesting it makes me very happy xxx

You stand at the edge of the deck, clutching the railing as the boat rocks, waves rolling against the hull. The salty breeze whips your hair around your face, and the peaceful ocean sounds made you think about the current situation.

You didn't expect Rafe to save you and your friends from being arrested, much less expect him to find a boat big and resistant enough to drive you all to Morocco Africa to find the blue crown. It was truly a surprise considering you and Rafe's history.

“So what? Are we just on our way to Africa now?” Kiara asked the group as if she couldn't believe that Rafe Cameron was willingly helping them.

“Quick little weekend trip?” She added to her previous sentence.

“What about Rafe? We know what he did to the cross and now we want to go after the crown with him?” You and the rest of the pogue's lips go into a thin line at the memory.

“Sarah, you're his family, how do deal with him” John B said, finding no other options.

“I don't- I don't know, I think maybe y/n might have a chance of convincing him to behave but..” she shrugged and you felt the stares of your friends burn holes through you. Your past relationship with him was a secret to nobody.

“We- we just have to talk to him, or at least try” You proposed earning a frown from JJ.

“Talk to Rafe? When has he ever just communicated with us?”

“Talking to him is the only option we have, but you're definitely not talking with him,” John B said and as expected everyone nodded and hummed, agreeing. JJ was in no place to talk with Rafe.

“Why not? What did I do?” He asked, getting almost frustrated.

“We all know you and him are far from being civil, the last thing we need is you triggering him and causing trouble” His girlfriend, Kiara, tried to explain the easiest way but he still got defensive. After a couple of bickering from JJ and John b You finally decide to go speak with him, who was driving the boat not too far away from the deck.

“Hey,” You knock on the metal and rusted door before entering and walking up to him. His eyes catch yours and there's a tension between the two of you. But Rafe only tilts his head to acknowledge you.

You swallow, feeling the weight of his stare. "We just want to talk," you say, steadying your voice as the rest of your friends beside JJ follow behind you.

“All right let's talk” Rafe chuckles, and it’s low, almost a whisper.

Your mind goes almost blank as you take him in, you haven't been this close since you were forced in the same room by Sighs men last year. You had almost forgotten how much you missed him.

“You guys be cool I'll be cool” His voice snapped you out of your daydream, realizing you had missed a bit of the conversation.

“So now you want peace?” Pope leaned back and scoffed, not believing a word that came out of his mouth.

“I just saved all your asses, how about a thank you?” He glanced at all of you one by one, but he only earned silence,

“Listen I don't want any part of your little fairytale treasure hunt bullshit, I'm just looking for Groff” He’s breathing heavily, holding himself back from adding more snark,

“Hey, Rafe!” Before anyone can react, JJ’s fist flies through the air, cracking against Rafe’s jaw with a force that echoes.

Rafe’s head snaps back, his expression stunned for a split second before he crumples, hitting the hard metal floor. For a moment, everyone is frantic, staring at the lifeless form sprawled across the floor, his eyes closed, completely knocked out.

“holy shit”

“Jesus JJ what's your problem”

“Whoo that felt good” Tired of JJ's crazy actions the girls walk away shaking their heads in disbelief until you are the only one staying behind.

JJ stands over him, breathing heavily, the adrenaline still pulsing through him as he looks down at Rafe. His fist is red, already bruising, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“What is wrong with you?” You look at him, feeling a rush of shock mixed with panic. You fall to your knees next to Rafe and quickly look over his injuries, softly rubbing your thumb on his jaw. “If he didn't do it I was going to do it” Pope added only worsening the situation. You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows at his sentence.

After the pogues agreed it was probably not a good idea to let Rafe free in case he woke up and decided to shoot you all with his “peacemaker” you tied him up in a small cabin. His head hung low, his wrists were bound to a stainless steel pole and his legs were uncomfortably folded beneath him. Your heart clenched at the sight of him but still decided to leave him there until he woke up.

You open the door to the cabin slowly with a tray of warmed-up canned spaghetti in hand, it wasn't the best but it was all the boat had.

“I brought you food..” You whispered before bending down to place the tray in front of him.

“great” he sighed.

“I found aspirin in the medicine cabinet, I figured you'd have a headache, maybe even a concussion”

“Right… are you gonna throw it in my mouth like a seal or something” He scoffed again clearly angered,

“They don't trust you Rafe… but if you do the right thing maybe they will open up a little bit”

“I am doing the right thing! I helped you” He tried pulling against the restraints but failed.

“I know okay? I know but unfortunately, I don't have a choice but to let you in here until we get there, I'm sorry” you whispered and pushed the tray closer to him. “Please eat,” You said and left closing the large door behind you.

For a moment you stayed behind the door listening closely. “Y/N come back!” he grunts and kicks his feet on the ground. “Fucking untie me please!!” he screamed and you jumped when you heard the tray you had just put down on the floor fly into the wall.

Pope leaning over the side, is the first to spot the flicker of movement beneath the water. "Guys! I see one!" exclaims, his voice a mixture of excitement and focus. He scrambles for the fishing rod, almost knocking over the tackle box in his rush.

John B is right beside him, laughing. “We've got our dinner!" he laughs.

“Guys, this one’s huge!” Kie giggles with the boys knowing we were all set for dinner time tonight.

You all spent the rest of the day cooking the fish you caught and preparing side dishes with some good music in the background.

Until it was time for Rafa's second meal.

You open the door carefully and his eyes catch yours, this time you don't speak, simply set the tray of seasoned salmon down in front of him.

Has you were about to close the door you hear him.

“Wait, y/n. Can you please- can you give me the fork” his tone is much softer than before so you can't deny him.

You get down and pick up the utensil his bound hands couldn’t reach.

“Thank you” He murmured, and you barely heard him as you closed the door behind you once again.

The sky darkens ominously as thunder rumbles in the distance, low and threatening. Waves crash harder against the hull of the boat, tossing it with a force that leaves you gripping onto anything within reach. The storm monitor flashes red to show the storm coming ahead of you.

“That's not good,” John B says.

“We're gonna have to try to blast through it,” Pope says, not finding any better options.

“Why can't we go south?” Kie asks genuinely.

“The current is gonna be against us we don't have a choice” John B agreed even after trying to find safer options, the boat's roar has Pope push the lever controlling the engine to the max.

The waves make the boat shift side to side making it difficult to stay up and steady.

Another massive wave crashes over the side, drenching them all, and you lose your footing, sliding across the deck until Kie grabs your arm, pulling you back.

“Hold on to something” Kie yells at you pope and Sarah and you all grip onto the nearest thing.

“Hey!” a distant voice echoes through the walls.

“Cut me loose! Y/N! Somebody!” Rafe screamed and banged his fists on the wall.

“Get me out of here!” Everyone listens but doesn't move a finger.

“We have to let him out” You scramble to your feet but jerk back when Cleo grabs your wrist.

“No!” she says trying to stop you but you pulled back.

“He's gonna drown” You pull open rapidly the drawers trying to find something sharp, able to cut the thick ropes wrapped around Rafe's hands.

The storm is relentless, its fury tossing you around like a rag doll as you try to reach him.

You cling to the railing, struggling to stay upright as the boat lurches violently, nearly sending you sprawling across the floor. Your legs buckle under you. You come crashing through the door and walk onto the water-soaked floor knife in hand.

“Cut me loose” he begs.

Crouching in front of him you began frantically cutting the rope. Your muscles burn with how much pressure you're using.

“Shit,” You say when a sudden jerk of the boat makes your face come inches apart from his, lips almost touching. You don't have time to think as you regain your balance and continue cutting the bounds.

“There! Come on” you yelled and quickly grasped his hands to pull him up from the floor.

You both run to shelter but the boat jerks side to side even more violently,

“Something is wrong I have to go see!”

“No!” Rafe tried holding on to you but you were already rushing away onto the deck where waves came crashing, a massive wave rose out of the dark, towering over the boat like a shadow.

You barely had time to think before it crashed down, an icy, unforgiving wall of water that slammed into you with the force of a sledgehammer. The impact was too strong and you were thrown backward, landing hard on the deck. Pain explodes through your shoulder, the wind knocks from your lungs. Dazed and gasping, you try to get up, but the boat tips again, and before you can stand, another wave strikes.

This one is worse, merciless, catching you just as you struggle to rise. Your fingers graze the edge of the railing, but the slick metal slips through your grasp. In an instant, the world spins as you are thrown away from the boat, the cold, raging ocean swallowing you whole.

The water is a shock, freezing and chaotic, disorienting you as you plunge beneath the surface. You thrash, fighting to reach the surface, lungs burning, but the waves toss you back and forth, each effort to rise met with another rush of icy water.

Back on the boat, Rafe catches a glimpse of you disappearing over the side, and his heart stops. “Y/N!” he screams, panic cutting through the storm. Without a second thought, he scrambles to the railing, nearly slipping himself as he peers out into the dark, searching for any sign of you.

“Where is she!” Sarah came rushing to her brother

“She fell overboard” he yells already reaching for a rope with the floating boyee. He’s soaked, exhausted, and barely steady, but there’s no hesitation as he jumps in after you.

“Rafe no!” She screams after her brother.

A wave slams into Rafe. “Y/N!!” he yells in the water as he sees you trying to stay above the water far away.

With the last of your strength, You swim faster and harder towards Rafe and reach out when you're near, fingers brushing his arm, grasping it tight. Rafe holds you with everything he has.

“I got you” But you don't hear him in the storm.

You both hold on to each other your arms around his neck and his around your waist as the boat floats away and the night turns into a void.

“Hey, open your eyes, look at me” You feel gentle hands grasping on your face as you finally sit up coughing out the water that filled your lungs.

“That's it” The hands rub your back in a comforting way.

The sand is hot beneath you, warming up your skin, and with exhaustion, you fall onto Rafe's chest.

“Hey you okay?” panicked, he grabs onto your shoulder and pushes you a little bit to take a good look at your face.

“You jumped after me,” you whispered.

“Of course I did” You look up at him, heart pounding, feeling a rush of gratitude, fear, and something deeper—something that’s been smouldering beneath the surface, unspoken, for far too long. Your eyes shine with tears, not sad and not happy either but grateful.

His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin. His touch is warm, and grounding, and you feel your heart racing even faster under his gaze, intense and unreadable, like he’s seeing you for the first time.

Without another thought, you lean in, closing the space between the two of you as you press your lips to his, a spark igniting into a wildfire the moment you connect. Rafe’s surprise melts away instantly, and he kisses back, fierce and unrestrained, his hands finding your waist.

The kiss is charged, fueled by adrenaline, and a longing that neither of you can deny any longer. Your hands find his shoulders, clinging to him, grounding you in his warmth, his strength, the feel of his heartbeat thundering beneath your touch.

Rafe’s fingers trail up your back, sending shivers along your spine, and his lips move against yours with an urgency that speaks of everything left unspoken.

When you finally pull apart, breathless, Rafe’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes searching yours as he lets out a shaky laugh, almost in disbelief.

“You saved my life” you smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek, still feeling the warmth of his kiss lingering on your lips. “I love you, I've always loved you” you whisper, and before you know it, you're kissing again, the ocean waves crashing nearby, the world forgotten as you lose yourselves in each other.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered.

Send request xxx

#rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #outer banks #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron #rafe obx

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astonmartinii · 6 months ago

Text

other side of the moon - chapter five | formula one imagine

chapter five: enter stage left

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

one big car launch with every driver in attendance - what can go wrong?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SERIES MASTERLIST

whatever bright spark decided that formula one needed one big, fancy car launch must want y/n dead. here she stood in one of the many green rooms in a black dress that’s a little too tight and an absolute pain to sit down in.

on one side of the room george sits in his dressing gown being doted on five different people while he talks down the phone in a tone too loud for the crowded room. kimi, on the other hand, sits on the couch on the other side, having waved off all of the people trying to smear yet another cream on his face.

“are you just going to be haunting me all season?” george said as he hung up the phone. glaring at y/n through the mirror.

“if i’m haunting you, does that mean you did something wrong?” y/n gasps, “am i the skeleton in your closet, georgie?”

the mercedes personnel in the green room were still, almost waiting for it to hit boiling point and all spill over. george and y/n stared each other down, waiting for someone to make the next move. george steadily looked y/n up and down, not being subtle at all. y/n raised her eyebrow at the brit.

“i could get used to you in my colours,” george said with a smirk.

“bore off russell, i don’t wear anything for you. these will be seen as kimi’s colours before you know it.”

a knock on the door signalled the start of the show. george stood up and took off his robe, revealing the new mercedes racesuit for the season. the brit made his way to the door but before he left, he turned to y/n and said, “don’t get too comfortable, i have my eye on you”

“oh georgie, you always have,” y/n flirted before schooling her face, “and how has that worked out for you?”

the brit pointed to his racesuit, “better than it has for you.”

that was a low blow, but y/n was prepared to play it that way if that was the game for the season. george looked at her again, as if to challenge her, but y/n stayed silent though her stare was unwavering. she had said a lot worse about herself to herself after the crash.

with that george turned and left, calling out to alex down the corridor.

“i really don’t understand him,” kimi said, “it was only like a week or two ago he was cussing you out in monaco, then today he checks you out but then threatens you like two seconds later?”

“first lesson of the year, kimi. do not trust a word that man says to you.”

the pair linked arms and made their way out of the green room. there was a gaggle of drivers at the end of the corridor, all decked out in their racesuits except the ferrari boys who were in normal suits. the group fell silent as they all turned to see the new arrivals.

“i didn’t know it was bring your mum to work day?” alex called out as they neared the group, smiling as he came to hug her.

a french-accented voice hollered a ‘milf’ from the back of the group, y/n suspected it was pierre, but paid no mind. an offended squeak followed as y/n looked up to see max delivering a slap to the back of his head.

“i’m just dropping him off, i gotta get to my seat before i’m roped into an interview. i had to sneak in this afternoon, i swear sky sports are like stalking me!”

the group watched along as y/n leaned in to whisper into kimi’s ear, “remember what i told you. smile, be likeable and tell jokes. these people are underestimating you, let them. we’ll do our real talking in the car. good luck and try and have some fun.”

the pair did their ‘handshake’, which really was just a pinky promise, and broke apart. y/n looks back at the group one more time, smiles at max and takes her leave. just a couple paces down the corridor, a voice called out her name.

“y/n, hey!” lewis called, catching up to her quickly, “i didn’t think i’d see you back here tonight.”

“i wasn’t planning on it, to be fair. kimi is technically an adult now, but i still didn’t want to leave him on his own here of all places.”

lewis laughed as the pair looked back at the group. kimi had nestled himself next to ollie, quietly talking to each other with esteban looking over both of them. y/n caught the gaze of esteban and the frenchman gave her a quick nod before inserting himself into the conversation. the height difference between kimi and esteban was comical, but y/n was happy knowing esteban would look out for him in places she couldn’t be.

“i didn’t think you would like the whole mentor role, being so young and everything, but you seem to be doing a good job.”

“thank you lewis, but honestly he makes it very easy,” y/n looked at the group again with a fond look on her face.

lewis brought his hand to her face and made her look at him, “i thought i’d never see that look on your face again.”

y/n looked down and blushed, shaking lewis’ hand off. “i am happy. a lot happier than i expected to be, anyway.”

“i’m happy that you’re happy. i’m happy you’re back, i won’t keep my distance this time, even if you’re in the home of the enemy now.”

y/n laughed, “well i thought it was bad going back to your ex, and look at me now. so maybe they’re not as much as an enemy as you think.”

an announcement from further down the corridor cute the conversation there, lewis tries not to look bothered, but y/n can still tell.

“looks like you’re needed elsewhere, superstar,” y/n said with a wink, “try not to let charles outshine you too much.”

“he wishes.”

y/n watched him walk away and was confused. lewis had never expressed interest in her before, platonic or romantic. even when she was a young rookie with stars in her eyes, she was never on his radar. was she now? the visit in london had been weird and the way his eyes had been fixed on her since she arrived today was even weirder.

y/n didn’t really have the time to be grappling with that struggle today, not with everything else going on. the audience seemed like enough distance between her and lando, but after monaco, there was no real knowing what could happen. george was just as confusing as his compatriot, with harsh words but also a glimmer of something else too.

she needed a glass of champagne pronto.

max watched the interaction between y/n and lewis like a hawk, so focused that he didn’t realise that he had formed quite an audience. nico hulkenberg, kimi, ollie and esteban watched him try and conceal his feelings, but his face showed every thought.

“you want to make it any more obvious that you’re jealous?” nico said, nudging max to break him out of his daze.

“i’m not jealous, i just wonder what they actually have to talk about…”

“you’re not jealous you say? you didn’t even glare at him this much during 2021.” esteban chimed in.

max furrowed his brows and forced himself to look away. he already felt guilty for harbouring these feelings for y/n and now he’s faced with a curious look from kimi, making him feel even worse. he did not want to make the same mistake as lando and george had in the past. he meant it when he said he just wanted to exist with her.

“kimi, how would you feel about having max as your dad?” ollie said, hiding slightly behind esteban.

“he’s very good with the cats?”

“thanks, that’s such a glowing recommendation, kimi, thanks!”

kimi held up his hands in surrender but max couldn’t be angry at the italian - plus he did take very good care of his cats and brando. in fact, he had nearly thrown his back out, much to red bull’s chagrin, building a new cat tower so brando could watch the birds from his preferred spot. the cat had settled in well in his place in monaco while y/n had been staying, the dutchman didn’t want to think too much about what it could mean, but it was on his mind.

“i just mean i caught you googling how to make sure your cat is getting enough vitamin d because you were worried about how cloudy it’s been in monaco?”

kimi tried to backpedal, but his anecdote was overheard by more drivers, bringing them into the conversation.

“are you being for real? vitamins are just pseudoscience dude,” pierre said but isack popped his head into the circle to say, “vitamins are real? and vitamin d deficiency is actually a really huge problem.”

“thank you isack!”

“as if i’m taking health advice from a rookie,” pierre laughed. yuki took his turn to pipe up next, “i saw you eat a whole jar of peanut butter in one sitting last winter break? what do you know about health?”

“why is it gang up on pierre hour? why aren’t we focusing on the real issue here? like how pathetic max is about y/n?”

max sputtered as even more drivers joined the conversation.

“i am not pathetic. brando is practically my son. kimi back me up, doesn’t he love me?”

“he does -” kimi started defending max before charles butted in with a: “calling for help from the other son? we see how it is verstappen.”

this was a losing battle. max just hoped it stayed this light hearted but he saw lando and george approaching the group.

“max is not my dad, but i wouldn’t mind. he drove all the way to nice to pick up my parcel because i didn’t understand monaco postal charges!”

poor kimi was trying to help, but he was just making it inadvertently worse.

“this is making your pseudoadoption last year look like child’s play, oscar,” alex said, earning him a whack from charles.

“kimi is not my son, but that doesn’t mean i won’t look out for him. this is a horrible place to come when you’re already disliked. some people, not naming names, have made it clear they have a problem with him and y/n, so it’s simply my moral duty to look out for him.”

the group quietened down, looking amongst each other.

“why am i so out of the loop, who is bullying this literal child?” nico said, pulling kimi into his chest, the italian letting out a squeak as the german petted him. “so? do tell.”

for two people who were very eager to call y/n and kimi every name under the sun just a week ago, they were very silent in that moment.

“oh! we’re talking about the lovely cocktail party i threw that was ruined by lando and george!” charles blurted out, he grabbed fernando’s hand, “it was so nice, i even brought olives, but they came in spouting all this shit about y/n and kimi and seduction and older women?”

both brits scratched the backs of their necks. the cocktail party drama was not a good move from them, especially so close to the start of the season.

“it wasn’t quite like that?” george hurried out.

“you accused y/n of trying to sleep with me?” oscar said.

“you said that i was going the max verstappen route of getting with an older ‘problematic’ woman?” kimi added from nico’s side.

“you also kinda implicated yourself in y/n’s crash?” alex heaped on for good measure.

“alex!?” george and lando shouted, “whose side are you meant to be on?”

“i’m not on a “side” because i’m not fucking five, but i will point out hypocrisy and stupidity and that’s both of you. come on, it’s 2025 and you guys are still stuck in like 2017.”

“right, i feel really stupid because what the fuck are you people talking about and why wasn’t i invited to this party?” fernando said, a confused look on his face.

“lando and george are still hung up on y/n years later even though she never actually expressed interest in them, max has the best odds on actually sealing the deal and i don’t know, kimi is getting shit because he brought her back and none of them can actually regulate their emotions!” charles said, exasperated, “keep up grandpa, you’ve been here the whole time!”

“i do not have the ‘best odds’ because y/n isn’t a horse, you don’t bet on women?” max bit back.

“actually i bet on women all the time,” yuki said but when he saw how the group were looking at him he added, “ufc, duh!”

even as they were herded towards the backstage, the group continued bickering like children.

“all i’m saying is that your crush is super obvious and you need to be careful! y/n will know and will use it against you, just look at what happened with me and george!” lando hissed at max.

the dutchman glared at the brit, this really had gone too far. “can you like actually give me an example of where she ‘led you on’ i am genuinely curious,” max snipped, “quickly.”

lando immediately looked at the floor and bit his lip. max began tapping his foot with an impatient look.

“well she would be super flirty with me in the videos the team would make us film?” lando didn’t sound convinced, and max didn’t buy a single second of it.

“if that’s what you think flirting is i feel sorry for all of your ex girlfriends, you must be a horrible boyfriend - ouch!” charles was cut off by a shove from george.

“stay out of this charles!”

“i won’t stay out of this, y/n is actually a friend of mine. yeah that’s right she doesn’t hate me because i don’t assume that any girl who is fractionally nice to me is in love with me.”

“lando you basically tortured that girl her entire formula one career, do you need to do it now as well?” max said, “i think this season will be a lot easier for you if you drop this now.”

“is that a threat?”

“it’s a promise.”

all the bickering surrounding the pair ceased, tension rising in the air. the call for the mclaren boys drew lando out of his stare down with max. the brit joined oscar at the front of the queue and painted on his PR smile.

y/n had found her way to her seat, flanked by natalie pinkham on one side and jenson button on the other. there goes her plans for a quiet evening.

“so the rumours are true,” jenson said before jumping up to give her a hug, “i’ve missed you, rocky”

y/n flushed at the nickname. since her first ever race in formula one, jenson had crowned her his ‘pocket rocket’ which had eventually been worn down to just rocky. she hadn’t heard it in so long, jenson’s appearances being relegated to messages via sara or flowers that only gave away his identity with the use of rocky.

“did sky set up this seating arrangement? are you going to ambush me for an interview?”

“i can’t believe you’d think so low of me,” jenson clutched at his imaginary pearls, “and as if you can say no to me anyway.”

the pair took their seats as the show started. natalie handed her a glass of champagne and whispered in her ear, “you might need this.” well that doesn’t bode well.

the two mclaren drivers made their way out onto stage, joined by zak and andrea. y/n leaned into jenson, “i don’t understand why he insists on being everywhere, have we not suffered enough?”

jenson tried to stifle his laugh, “are you sure you don’t want to work in commentary?”

“i think it’s best i keep my opinion on these men to myself.”

the mclaren spiel followed the closely the same scripts they used when y/n still raced for them, though a healthy dose of constructors champions boasting had been added. a second questionable decision from formula one reared it’s head when nico rosberg asked his first unscripted question:

“so boys, how do you feel about the return of former mclaren driver y/n y/ln to the paddock? excited to see her?”

y/n swore she could see lando’s eye twitch from her front row seat. there was an awkward pause and y/n could feel the rest of the audience tense. even though the general public didn’t know the ins and outs of the fall out, there was definitely rising suspicion.

nico found y/n in the audience and gave her such a shit-eating grin that she almost didn’t care about the situation he just put her in.

“we’re of course over the moon to see her back in the paddock. i know i’ve harboured a lot of guilt as to how i ended up with my seat, so i’m happy that y/n can see me in action and hopefully i can continue to make her proud!” oscar said with a genuine smile, the only convincing one from the men clad in orange.

“continue to?” nico asked, “have you had confirmation of this?”

y/n’s eyes snapped to oscar who despite receiving glares from his boss, continued on.

“we spoke at charles’ cocktail party. i’ve always been a fan of hers and it was great to finally set the record straight. she was a lot more graceful than i would’ve been in her position. to be honest i was a bit of a weepy mess, but she was very supportive. i’m only slightly jealous of kimi…”

“very nice. did you get any insight on her opinion on hungary?” nico pushed, only to be cut off by zak.

“if you so desperately want her opinion on everything, you can wait until you’re on sky’s dime. this is a car launch, no? we’re confident in our car for this season and intend on winning both championships. and do you know how we’re going to do that? with the two drivers on stage right now, not one who was a flash in the pan four years ago.”

you could hear a pin drop in the venue. even lando had a shocked look on his face as he and oscar exchanged a look.

“that’s fighting talk from the man who ended her career, but what do i know?” nico said sharply but then turned to the audience, “ladies and gentlemen, mclaren!”

there was tentative applause from crowd and when y/n and oscar made eye contact she gave him a small smile. this was only the first team…

nico looked for y/n in the front row and gave her a thumbs up to which she shook her head violently. jenson burst out laughing, “well, i don’t think we’ll be having this as the car launch format again.”

“i don’t know about you but i’m throughly entertained,” natalie said, “if nico was like that with mclaren, i can’t wait for ferrari!”

the next few teams were decidedly less dramatic. y/n could see kimi and george lining up next to come on stage and she hoped the italian remembered her advice.

george walked on stage with confident strides, followed by toto and finally kimi. the italian looked out at the audience, squinting from the harsh lights but calming his features when he saw y/n. she gave him a thumbs up and got a smile in return.

“you’re loving this mum role aren’t you?” jenson said.

“you’re making me feel old, stop. but yes i would kill myself if anything happened to him, so i guess so.”

back on stage, nico had started his interview. first toto was being grilled about the hopes for the season and how life at mercedes would be without lewis hamilton. the german was clearly trying to bait his former boss into giving him a juicy soundbite.

“kimi, let’s come to you now. you’re first season in formula one and you’ve already brought in the big guns? y/n y/ln as your mentor, that’s a big statement.”

kimi looked startled and his eyes snapped to meet y/n’s. she nodded to him, urging him to answer.

“why wouldn’t i want a legend of the sport like her as my mentor? she still knows what she’s doing, and if it ruffles some feathers in the paddock at the same time, what’s the harm?”

she was so proud of her protégé. jenson choked on his champagne at kimi’s answer, “kids got balls.”

“well, well, well. you’re not beating around the bush are you? but do tell me, kimi, what’s so special about you that y/n would come out of retirement?”

“i’ll save that answer for australia, nico,” kimi said, surprised by the laughs from the audience, “but maybe i’ve just got a charm the rest of the grid doesn’t?”

“holy shit,” natalie said, “was this the strategy, y/n?”

“i told him to make them like him? are you not entertained?”

nico, for once, was speechless on stage. george huffed next to toto, waiting for his turn to talk. the german clocked onto this and a devilish smile broke out on his face.

“so george, you and y/n grew up together… do you not have charm? as far as we can tell, you haven’t spoken to y/n in years?”

y/n’s mouth dropped open. jenson was right, there’s no way this format, at least with nico hosting, was ever happening again.

“i have more than enough charm, thank you nico. are you going to ask us anymore questions about the season or is it all just tabloid questions from you tonight?”

“tabloid?! well, now that makes me think you’ve got something to hide… but as for your 2025 season, are you afraid that you might lose to an 18-year-old rookie?”

george sputtered in response, “i have no fear of losing, i just beat a seven time world champion, a rookie, no offence, has no bearing on my season.”

“that’s a big claim, george. you better hope you stick to it. it’ll be your sixth season in formula one, do you think you’ll finally be able to claim the number one driver role?”

george’s face was getting redder and redder as he tried to remain calm. he made eye contact with y/n briefly, giving her the subtlest glare he could.

“i think i made a very good case for myself for the last two seasons and toto has faith in me to lead this team back to where they should be.”

nico had a wolfish grin on his face, he was enjoying this psychological torture a little too much.

“you don’t think toto has more faith in kimi, a driver he allowed to skip an entire step on the junior ladder and is giving his formula one debut at just 18? and straight into a mercedes rather than say… a williams?”

george’s shiny mask was starting to slip. this was meant to be a fun event for fans but had descended into a nico rosberg masterclass of making everyone suffer - and for once y/n was enjoying it.

“classy as always, nico,” george said.

“it’s what i do best,” nico laughed to himself, “back to you kimi, are you intimidated at all by your senior teammate? do you think you can make a case for yourself as the number one driver?”

the italian paused for a moment, thinking to y/n’s advice - he needed people to like him.

“i’m more than happy to play a team game to bring mercedes back to the top,” he smiled to toto, “but make no mistake i’m here to win and i won’t just step aside without good reason.”

“well, this is a duo i’ll be watching closely this season. mercedes!”

the trio shuffled off of stage and y/n let out a sigh of relief, she could throw back as much champagne as she wanted now.

another couple of teams made their way past nico’s questioning, but as nico hulkenberg and gabriel bortoleto made their way off of the stage the audience held their breath. next was ferrari.

charles, lewis and fred vasseur made their way on stage, and as has become classic fashion, lewis situated himself as far from nico as possible.

“welcome, welcome. a different line up this year and much to think about, do you think you can finally bring the championship back to italy?”

fred started on what was likely a pre-written script and y/n tuned out for a second. the ferrari boys looked nothing short of glamorous in their tailored black suits with the yellow of the ferrari logo popping on the left breast. both men looked assured, no nerves, just pure confidence - the type of confidence that draws you to a person.

y/n caught lewis’ eye and he gave her a quick wink, something that did not go unnoticed by jenson beside her.

“what was that all about, rocky?” jenson whispered. y/n kept looking forward, ignoring jenson’s stare burning into the side of her head. the brit kept poking her, “i’m not going to stop until you answer me!”

y/n batted his hand away, “i don’t know what you’re talking about old man, leave me alone!”

“i saw that, hell, the whole place saw that! you are aware that is a man 14 years your senior!”

y/n downed her champagne and whispered to jenson, “listen, i don’t know what the fuck is happening! he came to my apartment and he’s being really nice? i don’t know?!”

jenson looked between the two and grabbed his own champagne. “i was teammates with that guy! you might be a grown up now but he’s really old!”

y/n slapped a hand over her mouth to stop her laughing out loud. jenson did have a point. was lewis actually flirting with her or was he just being nice? was she falling into the same headspace that lando and george were in with her?

“i am not going to get with lewis, jens. he’s just being nice, that’s all. now shut up i want to see if nico makes the brocedes breakup all of our problem.”

nico had finished his interrogation of charles and set his sights on his former teammate. y/n grabbed jenson’s hand in anticipation.

“so lewis, new team, new you? how do you feel coming into a team where charles has dominated for the last five years?”

lewis gives nico a forced smile, “i am excited for the challenge. there’s a lot of changes coming into this season, people leaving and new faces. it’s best to face a challenge head on rather than running.”

“you didn’t run from mercedes? you didn’t want to stick it out and retire with the team that gave you so much success?”

“you’d know all about running wouldn’t you nico?”

y/n dropped her glass of champagne and the rest of the audience gasped but nico did not look phased at all.

“i am happy with my decision, time will tell if you’ll be happy with yours. charles dealt with sebastian, don’t think he’ll roll over for you.”

charles looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but on stage and fred’s face would tell you he’s at the gallows rather than a car launch.

“was in your brief today to make the vibes in here as rancid as possible? as i said i am excited for the season ahead and nothing you can say today will change that.”

lewis took the lead and left the stage, leaving nico alone with a pleased look on his face. the german found y/n’s gaze again and wiggled his eyebrows. if there was ever a man you need to take the heat off of you, he was the one.

there was one final team to go and this entire nightmare of a night would be over. the final team was none other than red bull - nothing could possibly go wrong here could they?

christian, like the other team principals, started with a long-winded spiel that said a whole lot of nothing. y/n smiled widely when she caught max’s eye and he responded with an eye roll directed at christian’s rambling. the dutchman, for a second, had forgotten he was in fact on stage in front of thousands. the pair stare at each other and bite their lips to keep the laughs in.

jenson leaned in again, “not to keep questioning you, but what is happening here? and don’t lie, i know he’s the only one you kept in contact with and who you have been staying with in monaco.”

“it’s nothing! it’s something? i don’t know what it is? we’re just existing together. i think romance in the paddock is the worst thing for me right now. i need to be fully focused on kimi.”

“first of all - we’re exisiting together? that’s so fucking gross. and two - you’re still allowed to have fun?” jenson wiggled his eyebrows.

“not everyone can be the playboy of formula one, stud.”

“true. i’m not sure you have the devilishly good looks to be a playboy - hey”

y/n snatched his glass of champagne and turned back towards the stage just as max took to the microphone.

“so max, do you think there’s a chance of a fifth title in a row?”

max laughed in his signature way, “here i thought you’d gotten all of your aggression out with lewis. we’ll have to see how we line up against the other teams, but you always have to believe you can win every single race, so that’s what i’ll continue to do.”

a quick glance from nico told y/n that her peaceful night hadn’t started just yet.

“you’ll finally have your best friend back in the paddock, are you still excited even though she’ll be in mercedes uniform?”

“i think toto has another thing coming if he thinks she’ll be wearing that ugly uniform,” max said, “but it makes no difference to me what garage y/n is in, we’re like magnets, you can’t keep us a part for long.”

nico hummed, “is that why you were the only one she kept in contact with after the crash?”

“yes? it’s mostly because we’re best friends but also because i’m a decent human being.”

oh fuck.

“how do you mean, max?”

christian tried to butt in, “i don’t think we need to go into that here.”

“oh i’m more than happy to, and nico has been stirring all night, what’s just a little more to add to the pot?”

you could almost hear the audience shuffling to the edge of their seats and for the first time that evening, y/n felt some of the cameras on her. she gave them a small wave and hoped they would pan back to the actual action.

“all i’m saying is that there are a lot of victim complexes in the paddock, it’s full of people who would rather say ‘i don’t know why she doesn’t talk to me?’ rather than do some actual introspection. y/n will talk to you if you’re not an asshole, just as kimi.”

“so you’re saying there’s a truth to the rumours?”

“which rumours? you know, since your employers like to report on so many?”

nico chuckled, “well, the rumours that perhaps the brits in the paddock didn’t get on as well as we were led to believe?”

max smiled, “well, that’s not my story to tell, but i’ve found that if you ask them, they’re more than happy to give you the scoop.”

for a moment, y/n’s heart stopped, fearing that nico would take this as the chance to bring her into the fray. max seemed to sense this as well and added, “but as for me, i’m just happy she’s back in any capacity. i’ve missed my partner in crime.”

“have you spoken about formula one in her break at all? you won all four of your titles in that time?”

“i know she watched it, but we haven’t spoken about it. i respected her boundaries at the time, but i knew she was watching based on some suspiciously timed texts.”

nico laughed, “i’m not sure we can ever stay away from this sport for long.”

“i’m glad that is the case,” max said, more to himself than anyone else.

the red bull boys were ushered off of the stage as nico delivered his closing remarks and announced the musical guests.

“he’s glad that’s the case? oh he’s in deep,” jenson gasped, “you can’t tell me that’s nothing, i rebuke it right this second.”

y/n sighed, standing and heading to the backstage bar. “i really don’t want to think about it jenson.”

“but you’re staying at his house, he’s building shit for your cat and gushing about you on stage!”

“i am well aware, but i don’t really know what you want me to do about that?”

“i want you to get your man and let him treat you how you’re supposed to be!”

y/n picked up another glass of champagne, talking the biggest sip before replying to jenson.

“you’re just as bad as the girls on twitter sometimes.”

kimi bursts through the doors, back in his comfy clothes, and rushes over to y/n. she wraps the italian into a hug.

“i’m so proud of you!”

kimi blushes, rocking back and forth on his feet, “thank you, y/n! i’m so glad we’ve got this out of the way i’m ready to race now!”

jenson laughed along side them, “an eager one, this one. i remember when i had that much energy.”

the rest of the drivers flooded into the room, grabbing drinks or just taking a seat. max, much like kimi, made his way straight to y/n, also pulling her into his chest. he whispered in her ear, “i’m sorry i got carried away talking about you, i just can’t help myself.”

y/n can’t help but feel the butterflies in her stomach at the confession. she was really trying to keep her feelings out of her return to formula one, but seeing max like this was putting a real spanner in the works. the dutchman’s protective nature along side his intense respect for her made her feel special for the first time since the crash.

“i take no offence, maxy. i’ll never say no to a compliment, especially from you.”

the group moves away from the bar and as they settle into their seats backstage, max’s arm wraps around her waist. y/n knew she shouldn’t do it, not here in front of everyone but that’s what her heart wanted. the first few weeks into her return and all the drama was wearing on her and they hadn’t even made it to the paddock yet. she snuggled into max’s side, letting the dutchman brush her hair out of her face.

“y/n?” kimi said from the other side of her, “i’m really happy you’re here, and i hope you’ll let yourself have this,” kimi motioned to max, who was deep in conversation with jenson.

“don’t you worry about that, kimi.”

“you’ve punished yourself for years, please don’t keep telling yourself that you’re not allowed this. also don’t wait up for me, i’m going to crash at ollie’s”

kimi said as his departing gift as he went to catch up with ollie and watch some of the music. y/n let herself relax back into max’s hold and her eyes close, all of the pent up stress of the evening rushing out.

“are we really that boring?” jenson asked.

“do you want to get out of here, y/n?” max asked, when y/n flopped further onto him, he took that as his answer.

grabbing her bag, max took y/n’s hand in his and pulled her from the seat. the pair exchanged hugs with jenson and made a quiet exit from backstage. they tried to be as subtle as possible, but nothing is ever secret in formula one.

jenson slid in beside lewis at the bar.

“you want to tell me what your plan is with her?”

lewis looked at his former teammate in confusion.

“i saw that wink and i know you were flirting with her when you went to her apartment. what’s the plan, you’re 14 years older than her?”

“i don’t have a plan? i felt bad about how i was when she was in formula one, i’m just trying to make her feel welcome again.”

“and winking at her at a televised event is definitely going to help?”

lewis scoffed, “i don’t really like what you’re implying.”

“i’m implying that you need to watch your step, seriously. the vultures are just waiting for her to make one wrong step, don’t give them an excuse to call her a gold digger or anything along those lines.”

“and what if i said i did like her?”

“i’d ask you if you actually know her? you didn’t speak to her after the crash, you didn’t speak to her when she was in the sport so i’m confused to where this would have come from?”

“you can drop the dad act jenson, i’m just being friendly. it looks like max got in there first anyway.”

jenson hummed, “not everything is a competition.”

y/n and max climbed into max’s hire car for the weekend and finally let themselves breathe.

“that was a lot,” y/n said, slipping off her heels, “nico really was out for blood.”

“i found it entertaining, but that usually is a death wish for anything in formula one.”

the pair laughed, and as max turned the ignition, y/n’s taylor swift playlist crackled into life.

“are you heading back to your hotel or do you want to crash at mine?” y/n asked as she put her address into the gps, despite max knowing nearly every route across london to her apartment.

“a chance to avoid team duties for as long as possible? count me in!”

“so you don’t want to spend more time with me? just want to avoid your team?”

max placed his hand on her thigh, “you know i always want to spend more time with you.”

the streets were relatively clear at this time with the event still in swing. max weaved through traffic as they entered west london. the dutchman nestled his car in y/n’s spot for her pink cadillac that was still in monaco. y/n started to fiddle with her heels to put them back on, but max stopped her.

he walked round to her side of the car and picked up her up bridal style. y/n giggled and wrapped her arms around max’s neck. the pair made their way up to her apartment as fast as possible, but made sure to say hi to frank who not so subtlety gave y/n a thumbs up and a wink.

the apartment was quiet without the meows of brando who was also back in monaco with jimmy and sassy. max stopped in the kitchen to pour two glasses of water but y/n went ahead to the bathroom to wash off the grime of the event.

she slipped into bed dressed in her pjamas that consisted of some old gym shorts and one of max’s toro rosso shirts. the dutchman knocked on her door.

“come in, maxy.”

max made his way into the room, placing the glass of water on her beside table. he sat on the edge of the bed, “good night, try not to dream of me too much.” the dutchman leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead before moving back towards the door.

“max?”

“yes?”

“will you stay with me?”

“always.”

max got under the covers and tentatively reached out to her. sensing the apprehension, y/n turned over and tucked herself under max’s chin. his arms snuck around her waist and for the first time in three years, y/n finally slept peacefully without the images of her crash.

fin.

note: sorry this took so long, i've been a bit of a writing rut but i'm back!

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn@blueberry648579@dog-and-cat-person230@fastandcurious16@obxstiles@cosmicwintr@becca388510@savagittariuspy@tibadi @thisbitxhs-blog @finn-dot-com @scenesofobx @moofilms @alilstressyandlotdepressy @nana-love-bugzzz @mayax2o07 @obsessed-fan-alert @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @jajouska @poppysrin @mimimarvelingmarvel @jiyumie @heeseungthel0ml

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #max verstappen #charles leclerc #kimi antonelli #ollie bearman #jenson button #lewis hamilton #george russell #alex albon #pierre gasly #yuki tsunoda #nico rosberg

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mercvry-glow · 3 months ago

Text

a girls guide to shopping

parings. michael robinavitch x bratty!reader

summary. a shopping trip goes sideways after a teenager clocks your shit at a panty sale. thankfully your hot doctor boyfriend knows what's best.

warnings. age gap (robby early 50s, reader late 20s early 30s), reader gets punched, and passes out, hospital setting, robby is a little stressed and sassy but so is reader, pretty light overall, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. I love them your honor! sorry for not posting for a few days while i figured out these stories/dynamics. always feel free to request dynamics like these, I love them more than anything else! as always any and all feedback is appreciated!

wc. 1900+

Coming into the ER while you were supposed to be shopping was a total fucking downer. Once, the mall had been a magical place—a glittery, pretzel scented wonderland where you could lose hours drifting between candle shops and designer racks, sipping iced lattes and swatching lip gloss on the back of your hand like a civilized woman.

Now? Now it was the place where you got decked in the face by some teenage gremlin in low-rise jeans over a pair of lace panties.

And because you were a grown adult, you couldn’t even swing back.

Tragic.

You didn't even remember hitting the floor. Just the sharp, burning pop in your nose, the stars behind your eyes, and then—darkness. The paramedics told you you were out cold for maybe ninety seconds, but it was long enough to wake up under fluorescent lights, head pounding and crop top slightly askew.

“We got a female, LOC for approx one minute,” one of the EMTs was saying now as they wheeled your stretcher through the ER. “Vitals stable, GCS fifteen, alert and oriented, just... uh... kinda pissed.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” you muttered, clutching the melting bag of ice someone had tossed at your face like it could fix your whole life.

“Can you tell us your name again?” asked the other paramedic—young, blonde, and way too chipper for your taste.

“Yeah. It’s ‘I want a lawyer.’”

He snorted. “Okay, feisty’s good. You remember what happened?”

“I got my shit rocked by a seventeen-year-old with acrylics and rage issues over a five-dollar thong. And I swear to God, if I have to get my nose redone, someone’s getting sued. Possibly everyone!”

The paramedic just chuckled again and turned to the nurse approaching the stretcher. “We got a real diva on our hands.”

“Do not diminish me,” you snapped, even as you adjusted your messy bun and adjusted your once cute, now bloodied, jacket. “I am a victim of retail violence.”

The nurse—a tan-skinned, shorter woman with dark hair, and a clearly unbothered attitude—just gave you a once-over. “Put her in Bay 3. Maybe Dr. Robby can talk her down.”

You blinked. “Wait. Did you just say Robby?”

The paramedic raised an eyebrow. “You know him?”

Oh, you knew him.

You dated him.

Michael Robinovitch: broody, brilliant, perpetually annoyed trauma doc. Your boyfriend. Also, the last person on earth you wanted to see you laid out in a hospital bed with smeared lip gloss and a possible concussion.

You shot upright slightly—then immediately winced and laid back down.

“Please don’t tell him it’s me,” you whispered like it was a state secret. “Lie. Say I died. Switch my name with someone else’s. Say I’m contagious.”

The nurse smirked. “Yeah, he’s gonna love this.”

That was the moment you knew you were screwed.

The curtains around North-3 weren't soundproof, but you were trying to pretend they werer. You laid there with an ice pack balanced across your nose and a mild headache blooming behind your eyes. The ER smelled like bleach and overworked nurses, and you were pretty sure one of your press-on nails had popped off in the ambulance.

The nurse—Princess, according to her badge—was updating something on the computer, tapping the keys like she’d done this a thousand times. She had a chill vibe, low braid, cute scrubs. Honestly, you respected her.

“So, just to confirm,” she said without looking up, “you fainted in Victoria’s Secret?”

You sighed. “Technically, I passed out next to a panty display. Slightly more dignified.”

Princess grinned. “Right.”

“I had a head injury,” you added defensively. “And that girl came flying at me like I personally wronged her.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get trampled.”

“Thank you for your concern,” you said, deadpan. “I didn’t get to buy my stuff either.”

Princess chuckled. “I’ll put that in your chart.”

You slumped back onto the gurney, closing your eyes. This was officially the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to you. Which was saying something, considering you once accidentally sexted your building manager.

The sound of hurried footsteps pulled your attention to the hallway.

“Where is she?” came a familiar voice. Calm, but rushed. Less annoyed than… worried.

Your stomach dipped.

Princess didn’t even glance over. “There it is.”

You opened your eyes, sitting up slowly. “He’s here?”

“Yup.”

“Do you know if he’s like—mad?”

Princess finally looked up at you. “He looked… like he needed to know you were okay.”

You bit your lip. “Ugh. That’s worse.”

The curtain pulled open gently—no dramatic whip, no scolding.

There he was.

Dr. Michael Robby Robinovitch. Brown hair slightly messy, like he’d run his hands through it on the way down, stethoscope hanging around his neck, scrubs just a little rumpled. His eyes landed on you immediately, softening the second he saw your face.

“You fainted over a pair of underwear?”

Your smile dropped. “Excuse me, I was attacked over a pair of underwear.”

A flicker of amusement crossed his face, but he didn’t laugh. He stepped inside quietly, pulling the curtain mostly shut behind him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low.

“I mean, my face hurts and my dignity’s practically, but otherwise? Sure.”

He moved closer, reaching out carefully to lift the ice pack away. “Let me see.”

You let him, even though the swelling around your nose made you feel anything but cute. He studied you for a second, then met your eyes.

“Doesn’t look broken. We’ll scan just to be safe.”

You tried to joke. “If I need a nose job, I’m getting a cute one.”

His mouth twitched. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, resting his hand gently on your knee.

“I got paged when they brought you in,” he said quietly. “Didn’t know it was you until I heard the report and someone described you as all ‘crop top’ and ‘attitude.’”

You laughed, even though your head throbbed a little when you did. “Hell yeah.”

“I was worried,” he admitted, thumb brushing lightly over your knee. “You don’t just faint. That’s not you.”

“I didn’t mean to be dramatic,” you said softly. “I just… kind of blinked and hit the floor.”

“You don’t have to explain. You’re here. That’s what matters.”

You exhaled, letting yourself relax for the first time since the mall.

He looked at you again, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Can’t leave you alone for five minutes, can I?”

You smirked. “You really can’t, look what I get up too.”

Robby didn’t move right away. His hand rested on your knee, thumb tracing quiet, reassuring circles through the thin hospital blanket. You shifted slightly, trying not to wince at the dull ache spreading from the bridge of your nose up into your forehead.

“Do I look terrible?” you asked, your voice lower now.

He glanced up from your chart, his soft brown eyes sweeping across your face—not with judgment, but with quiet focus. “You look like someone who took a hit and handled it.”

“So... still cute?” you teased lightly.

Michael’s lips curved, just barely. “Always.”

You smiled, then sighed. “This might be the most embarrassing day of my life.”

“Worse than the time you locked yourself out of the house in your underwear?”

“Low blow Mikey, low blow… and that was different. That was private shame. This is public, in my baby tee, with paramedics and nosy mall goers.”

He hummed softly, stepping back just as Princess peeked back in through the curtain, a clipboard in hand.

“Radiology’s ready,” she said with a kind smile. “You want a wheelchair or are you feeling steady?”

You started to sit up. “I’m fine. I can walk.”

Michael gave you a look—calm but pointed. “Let me help you.”

“I can do it.”

“I know,” he said, already offering a hand. “But let me anyway.”

You hesitated, then reached for him. His hand was warm and steady, and the way he hovered—not overbearing, just present—made you feel safe, even if your pride was still limping along behind you.

The walk down the hallway was quiet. The CT tech moved efficiently, guiding you through the scan with minimal small talk, and before you knew it, you were back in your bay, settling onto the stretcher again with a little more care than before.

Robby was waiting, flipping through a printout from radiology.

“Well?” you asked.

He glanced at you. “No fracture. No concussion. You’re just bruised, a little rattled too, but otherwise okay.”

You exhaled. “Good.”

He softened as he looked at you again, that quiet relief flickering behind his usual calm. “You scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.”

Yet another nurse returned just then, handing over a water bottle and a stack of discharge instructions. “You’re free to go. Ice for the swelling, rest tonight, and take it easy for a couple days.”

Michael took the papers from your hands before you could even skim them. “I’ll go over these with her.”

You gave him a look but didn’t argue. It was kind of nice, having him take over. Quietly protective. Familiar.

They gave you a small smile. “Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

You nodded. “No more shopping trips. Lesson learned.”

Michael helped you off the bed with a gentleness that didn’t surprise you. As you reached for your bag, you felt his hand at the small of your back, guiding you without a word toward the exit.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, glancing up at him as the first doors opened.

He looked down at you, a soft smile tugging at his mouth. “Always.”

As the next set automatic doors hissed, the cool mid-day air brushed against your skin. The hospital parking lot glowed in the flickering daylight, and for the first time all day, things felt quiet. Still.

Michael walked beside you, not rushing, just staying close. You didn’t say much—didn’t really need to.

At your rideshare pickup spot, since you clearly hadn’t taken your car here. You stopped and turned toward him. He still had the discharge paperwork tucked under one arm, the other hand resting casually on the small of your back.

“You sure you’re okay to go?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded. “Yeah. A little sore. A lot tired. But I’ll be fine, hopefully.”

His eyes searched yours for a moment, not quite convinced.

“You passed out,” he said gently. “That’s not nothing.”

“I know.”

“If anything feels off tonight—headache that gets worse, nausea, anything weird—call me.”

You nodded again, a little slower this time. “I will.”

He studied you for another beat, then stepped forward, brushing a stray piece of hair from your cheek. His hand lingered there, warm against your skin.

“I mean it,” he said. “Even if it’s just a gut feeling. Call me.”

You smiled softly. “Okay.”

Then, without any rush, he leaned in and kissed you—just a quick, careful kiss to your forehead, right above the bruise forming at your hairline. Tender and light. Like punctuation at the end of a sentence that didn’t need words.

“Rest,” he murmured. “I’ll check in later.”

You watched him for a second before stepping back toward the car that had just pulled up.

And even though your face still ached and your head felt like cotton, you suddenly felt a little better than you had all day.

mercvry-glow 2025

#the pitt #the pitt max #the pitt hbo #the pitt x reader #the pitt x you #michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch x you #dr. michael robinavitch #dr. michael robinavitch x reader #dr. michael robinavitch x you #noah wyle #❥ - Michael Robinavitch

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sometimesanalice · 9 months ago

Text

Are You Gonna Be My Girl?

Summary: It’s been a couple of months since the two of you have started hooking up, and it’s no secret that Rooster is hung up on you. He takes the gamble and invites you to the yearly Halloween bash at the Hard Deck. The only problem is he can’t figure out what the hell you’re supposed to be.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6.2K

Warnings: allusions to smut and Rooster being a simp (but what else is new 😂) (mdni)

The Black Keys’ “Howlin’ for You” playing loudly over the static-y speakers of the Hard Deck masking the sound of Rooster’s fingers as he impatiently drums them on top of the worn table, uncaring of the fact he’s out of tempo with the song.

Penny’s yearly Halloween Spooktacular has always been a fan favorite with those stationed at North Island. A name that Amelia had thrown shade at no less than five times as she worked on designing the event flier the afternoon that the Daggers had been bribed with free beers for coming in on their free time to help decorate.

There wasn’t an inch of the bar that was left untouched, and it wasn’t just that Bob had gotten carried away with the downy spider webbing. There were orange and purple string lights threaded around the circular mug racks, floating candles over the pool table, dangling bats and streamers, and an enthusiastic but poorly executed attempt at a balloon arch over the entry door.

The wispy fog covered punchbowl with a suspicious dark purple beverage bubbled away on the bartop, tendrils cascaded over the side only adding to the atmosphere. The stuff was so potent that Bradley was pretty sure it would put the jungle juice he’d thrown back in college to shame.

Rooster had been tasked with curating the playlist for tonight’s party, and if he’d been paying even a little bit of attention, he’d have known his choices were being well received by the boisterous crowd. But his attention is half split trying to listen to Hangman’s story about the Halloween prank gone wrong that left him with twelve stitches and half listening for-

Ding

He’s quick on the draw to pull out his phone from the chest pocket to check if it was his that went off.

When he’d arrived Nat, decked out in a sequined pink gown with a gun he wasn’t sure was fake or not strapped to her thigh for her Miss Congeniality costume, had given him a look of disdain and said what he was wearing was low effort even for him.

Rooster tucks his phone away with a disappointed sigh when there are zero new notifications on his lock screen.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so whipped over a girl before, Bradshaw,” Hangman drawls, leaning into the gunslinging cowboy thing he has going on for the evening. His shirt is unbuttoned more than is strictly necessary, and is complete with a belt buckle that is larger than the state of Texas and too heavy looking to have been bought off Amazon.

Ding

Bradley fishes out his phone again from the pocket he’d put it back in only moments earlier.

You, 10:32pm: “u up?”

He grins.

“And we’ve lost him,” someone snarks, but he’s too busy punching in the password to unlock his phone to care.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:32pm: are you ever going to let that go?

You, 10:32pm: Mmm, no. You were so bad at being a fuckboy, it was funny.

You, 10:33pm: But in a very hot way, might I add. And clearly, it worked in your favor since I let you come over and hit it a second time.

Rooster snorts in amusement.

It was the first and last time he’d taken Fanboy’s advice and you teased him about it every opportunity you got. He had been a little rusty with the ins and outs of no-strings-attached sex with someone who wasn’t in the Navy. But he’d more than made up for it that same night by eating you out until your legs were shaking and you were weakly pushing his head away as he’d coaxed you into coming just one more time against his tongue.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:33pm: don’t remember hearing you laughing last night when your pussy was dripping all over my cock

He takes a sip of beer as he waits for your response.

You, 10:33pm: Look! You’re already so much better at sexting than you were when we met!

You, 10:34pm: “u up?” is still on the table, by the way. Not to brag, but I even have a pumpkin shaped pizza.

You, 10:34pm: If you want to come over.

If you want to come over. He shakes his head reading the text again.

As if he’d ever pass up on getting to spend time with you.

As if Rooster hadn’t been hooked on you since the moment he’d met you.

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗦 𝗔𝗚𝗢

As a general rule, Bradley hated grocery shopping.

He’s never had the patience for it, with the way that everyone is in their own world. He gets tired of always having to weave around people and the way that there always seems to be carelessly parked carts or people catching up standing between him and the items on his list.

Which is why when he noticed the parking lot was mostly empty on his way home, he decided to stop and spare himself the headache of doing it over the weekend when everyone else was out and just get it done.

He’d expected to be in and out in record time until the uniform lines of colorful cartons of ice cream caught his attention as he was tossing in a few bags of frozen chicken into his cart. Normally it was always so crowded that he never felt like he could take his time looking without being in someone’s way, that he’d skip it entirely and later try to convince himself that his Greek yogurt was just as good. But tonight since no one was around, he was taking his time.

Under the glare of the fluorescents, he stands there with the hum of the freezers competing with the too-twangy-for-his-taste country song playing over the speakers and debating his options when he feels an arm thread around his own, surprising him out of the pros and cons list he was making in his head between the healthier low-calorie choice versus the one he actually wanted.

“Hi, hello there.” Bradley glances over to see the prettiest pair of eyes looking up at him expectantly. “Do you mind playing along for a few minutes, there’s some creep who keeps trying to bother me.”

He looks over the top of your head to see some guy lingering at the end of the aisle. “The guy who looks like off-brand John Mayer?”

You scrunch your nose up. “That’d be the one.”

“How good are you at picking out ice cream flavors?” he asks, standing up straighter and pulling his shoulders back.

You blink at him in confusion before your lips tick up in a relieved smile. “Very good, as a matter of fact.”

“Great, you came to my rescue just in time.” Bradley guides you closer until you’re in front of him, lightly resting a hand on your hip the way he would if you were his girlfriend. “Is this ok?” he asks under his breath, only loud enough for you to hear.

When you nod, he feels the knot in his chest loosen. Because while he wants this to be convincing to the guy still loitering at the edge of the aisle, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“First things first, we need to establish a baseline.” You point at the carton covered in cartoony looking chocolate chip cookies. “What’s your opinion on cookie dough?”

“Overrated,” he answers, not missing a beat. “I’d rather just eat the stuff out of a tube instead.”

You lean back into him a bit more. “Ooh, tough crowd,” you tease, your head finding his shoulder. “Ok then, mister tempting-fate-with-salmonella, what’s your stance on the great vanilla bean vs French vanilla debate?”

Bradley takes a quick look around to make sure they’re not blocking any other late night grocery shoppers. He pretends to ponder for a moment before responding, “I like the one with flecks.”

“A dignified choice.” You say it so solemnly that he can’t help but chuckle.

The easy back and forth banter goes on for a few more minutes. Sometimes you rib him about his answers and other times agree. It shouldn’t be so fun standing there in front of the cooler filled with tubs of ice cream, but it is. It was the last thing he could have expected when he’d decided to stop in at the last minute on his way home after hitting up the Hard Deck.

When he tells you the two choices he had been contemplating before you’d come up to him, you hum contemplatively and tap a finger against your cheek, “Well this changes everything if you’re dairy free.”

“Nah, just watching my figure. The containers are smaller and I have a sweet tooth.”

“Respectfully, I don’t think that’s something you need to worry about. You fill out those khakis just fine, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Rooster wonders if you can hear his self-satisfied grin. “Not every day I get a pretty girl telling me she was checking out my ass.”

You let out a small, amused scoff and all he feels is pleased with himself.

“I was not checking out your- oh.” The surprise in your voice has him leaning back enough to get a look at your face. “Wait, is he gone?” You peer around his shoulder, but don’t make a move to pull away from the gentle hold he has on you.

“He left around the time you were giving a very impassioned speech about how overlooked spumoni is. I probably should have mentioned it sooner, but you were making a pretty compelling case and I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says, trying to play it off casually and hoping that he didn’t just become the creep in this story when you tell it to your friends later.

“Oh, ok. That’s, um, that’s good.” You sound almost… disappointed? You take a step towards the case and he drops his arm back down to his side, already missing the feel of you under it. “Thank you so much for committing to the bit. Seriously, I truly appreciate it,” you say over your shoulder, opening the glass door.

He rubs the back of his neck, watching as you grab a carton out of the freezer, not sure whether to move on with the rest of his shopping or not. But when you turn back towards him, he’s hit with the full force of your smile, feeling it all the way to his toes.

“Rocky Road,” you say, setting the carton into his cart. “It has peanuts in it, which is a nutrient-dense food and an excellent plant-based source of protein. There’s collagen from the gelatin in the marshmallows. And chocolate has antioxidants in it and is known to trigger the holy trinity of happy brain chemicals. It’s basically a superfood.”

Rooster grins. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“No, unfortunately, it really doesn’t,” you agree, playfully leaning a hip against his cart. “But it’s more fun this way, don’t you think?”

He’s so fucking charmed by you and he doesn’t even know your name yet.

While he’s glad he was there at the right time and got to play a small part in deterring that guy from continuing to hassle you, he kind of wishes the two of you could have met under different circumstances, because he’d jump at the chance of being able to score a date with you. He sighs and shakes the thought out of his head.

“Would you like me to walk you to your car?” Rooster offers, ready to abandon his groceries for a few extra minutes with you.

“Oh wow.” That mischievous gleam that had been in your eyes changes to something softer. You tilt your head, taking him in with a thoughtful expression on your face. “You’re one of those rare genuinely a gentleman types, aren’t you? Like the kind who always walks closest to the curb and mows their elderly neighbor’s yard without being asked.” Bradley just lifts a shoulder. He’s used to looking out for other people, it’s just something he’s always done. “And they say chivalry is dead,” you muse, contemplatively, “I should let you know though, knock-off John Mayer is my ex.”

He feels his hackles rise up immediately and scans the area again to double check the guy isn’t still hanging around. “Is he harassing you?”

“Oh no, it was only an unfortunate fluke, I promise,” you say, patting his hand that’s gripping the handle of the shopping cart reassuringly. “He’s just a jackass who thought he could cheat on me and that I’d still take him back.” Bradley grunts at that, even more irritated than he was before. “But he was still trying to test the waters, even after I told him I was seeing someone,” you continue, with a roll of your eyes, “Which was technically true- even if I am in fact single right now- because that’s when I saw you over here gazing very intensely into the freezer case like you’d been personally victimized by Ben and Jerry.”

“You’re out of his league anyways,” he rasps.

There’s no way in hell Bradley would fumble a girl like you.

You grin widely, clearly amused at his annoyance on your behalf. “He was a tool with an overinflated ego and a flat ass.” Rooster barks out a surprised laugh. “And you’re so much hotter than him, so I really lucked out there with you as my knight in ironed khakis,” you say unabashedly, reaching out to straighten out his already perfectly straight name tag. “You really went above and beyond for your country there helping me win the break up.”

“I don’t think you needed me for that part. It’s pretty clear you came out on top.” His eyes dart down to your hand on the cart, like you forgot it was still resting on top of his. “But I was more than happy to help all the same.” He takes a half step closer into your space, deciding just to go for it. “I’m thinking we should keep up the ruse though, you know, just in case he is lurking by the pasta or something.”

You quirk a knowing eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

“I could also use your professional opinion on cereal. That is if you still have some more shopping to do,” he suggests, nodding to your mostly empty handbasket.

There’s no question that he’s caught your interest, not with the way you’re looking at him. That smile you’re wearing tells a story of its own. “What a coincidence, that just happens to be my forte.”

“I had a feeling you might be the right girl for the job.” Bradley takes your basket from you and sets it in his cart and gestures for you to lead the way.

He learns your name around the same time he does about your hottake on Frosted Cheerios.

And later that night, his groceries are packed away in your fridge as the container of Rocky Road the two of you were sharing melts on your coffee table- the condensation puddling on the marble surface reflecting the credits rolling across the TV screen- as you ride him on your couch. Your hands tightly fisted in his hair and your breathy whines in his ear urging him to fuck you harder and faster until you come with his name in your mouth.

And in the morning, he gets your number over a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

The two of you have been fooling around for a couple of months now.

On the nights Rooster wasn’t fucking you, he was getting himself off to the thought of you and wishing you were in bed with him. You’ve never been to his place, so he doesn’t even have the bonus of that bright citrus scent of you lingering on his sheets on the nights he spends alone.

The sex was great. Mind-blowing. You were loud and enthusiastic and gave just as good as you got. Bradley found your confidence sexy as hell. You were the type of girl who knew exactly what she wanted and he was always up for the challenge of finding new ways to make your back arch and toes curl.

But he was just as much of a fan of the parts that came before and after getting you spasming around his cock.

He liked the way your mind worked. You were always telling him about something interesting you’d read, because you were naturally curious about the world around you. You asked him thoughtful questions about his job and his life in the Navy, but not in the way he was used to from the tag chasers that frequented the Hard Deck. There was no mistaking you were asking because you wanted to know more about him, and not fixated on the shiny sheen of his golden aviator wings.

Rooster has never laughed as much as he has with you. In those moments between catching your sighs with his mouth and waiting for the knock on the door for whatever late-night craving was being delivered, you’d have him laughing and grinning until his cheeks ached.

The closest he’s ever gotten to taking you on a proper date was that one late night drive-thru run when everything on delivery apps were closed. You’d looked like his favorite daydream sitting there under the glow of the streetlamp in the nearly empty parking lot in a shirt of his that he must have accidently left behind after a hook up.

That night was the most real it’s ever felt. And he wanted more nights just like that.

He liked the way you always seemed to have a documentary to recommend for any given topic, he has a list on his phone and has been working his way through them. He liked the way the glasses you wore sometimes seemed slightly too big for your face because it was cute the way you’d constantly push them back up your nose. He liked that you texted in full sentences with complete and proper punctuation.

Bradley could already imagine how tonight would most likely go.

He’d dip out of the party early and come to your place. Your tongue in his mouth and your greedy little hand tugging to get his belt undone before he’d even made it through the door. The two of you going at it until someone has to tap out- which he is smug in the fact that more often than not it’s usually you- now that he knows all the best ways to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you. Sometimes the two of you order in, and other nights you’ll pass a bowl of ice cream or cereal back and forth over the island in your kitchen where he gets to hear you laugh and tease him and tell him about your day. Then do it all over again and once you’re thoroughly spent, he’ll hold you as you fall asleep. And then in the morning he’ll press a kiss to your cheek and take one more look back at you before leaving through the same door he’d shown up at only hours before.

And that was fine for now, but he wanted more of you. He didn’t want to be just a casual hook up, he wanted to date you.

He wanted to be soft launched and hard launched, or whatever it was that Mickey was talking about that night he’d taken his misguided advice and sent the much teased “u up?” text. He wanted to block people in the chip aisle of the grocery store as you talked him into getting some crazy flavor, turning his least favorite chore into the highlight of his week. He wanted knockoff John Mayer to see he got the girl and knew how to treat her right.

He wanted you to be his girl.

“Aren’t you too old to be in a situationship, Bradshaw?” Jake asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Fuck off,” Rooster grumbles, his eyebrows furrowed and his thumbs still hovering over the screen. A couple minutes have ticked by since your last text as he sits there stewing. He knocks back the remainder of his beer, it’s mostly foam, “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“No, you’re not. Bob hasn’t even performed the dance routine to “Thriller” yet,” Nat says, pinning him to his stool with a look, “Come on, Bradley, just invite her here.” She reaches overs and squeezes his shoulder. “You’ve been seeing her for a couple months now. You’re clearly into her, and you wouldn’t disappear on us as much as you do if she wasn’t into you too. This is a low stakes environment with everything going on and people off having fun doing their own thing. And the two of you can still go and do whatever you’re going to do after.”

“I don’t know, Phoenix, she might dump him when she sees what he’s wearing at a Navy bar on Halloween,” Hangman drawls, unhelpfully, grinning around that damn toothpick.

“Shut it, Bagman,” they both say simultaneously.

“Just throw it out there and see what she says.” Nat slides out of her seat, the beads on her dress scraping against the edge of the stool. “Now, we’re going to let you panic in peace for a few minutes while we get another round.”

“We’re?” Jake asks slowly, deliberately drawing out the word.

“Yep,” she confirms, the look on her face leaving no room for arguments as she tugs him off his seat. “And you’re paying, let’s go.”

Bradley scrubs a hand over his face, but not before he sees Nat punching Seresin in the arm on their way to the bar.

He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous all of a sudden, he’s never had an issue asking girls out before. Not that he’s ever had to work that hard for it, but still.

His knee bounces on the foot rest as he works out what to say. He types out the message and gives it a quick once over and hits send before he can overthink it.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:42pm: I’d never say no to you or a pumpkin shaped pizza. But I’m actually at a Halloween party right now at the bar near base with some friends. And I’m thinking you should stop by.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:42pm: I’m sorry it’s a last minute invite, but it’s always a good time and I think you would have fun. I’d like to see you, if “ur up” for it.

He tries not to dwell on the fact he just double texted you, a thing he didn’t know he should be worried about before Fanboy warned him about doing it.

It’s like he’s been hit by lightning the way he shoots up in his seat when he sees those little dots appear on the screen. Rooster holds his breath when they start and stop a few times, each time they disappear and come back again his heart pounds a little harder in his chest.

You, 10:44pm: I’m all in. What’s the address?

All the bubbles from the beer he’d had earlier swarm and rush to his head at once as he drops you a pin.

Nat pushes a shot of bourbon towards him across the table when they return. “Did it go well?”

He nods. “She’s on her way.”

“Good, because you know Halloween is my favorite holiday and your sulking was bringing the vibe down.”

He chuckles, there’s no way he’s beating those whipped allegations now.

She clinks her own shot with his and they throw them back together, the warmth of the expensive tasting liquor sticks behind his sternum.

The next thirty minutes are the longest of Rooster’s life. His head swings to the front door every time it opens, hoping that it’ll be you outlined by the purple, green, and orange string lights.

When he sees you come through the swiftly deflating balloon arch scanning the bar for him, he almost does a double take.

You’ve got on a black and white polka dot top, the cuffs are a flared ruffle that are tied with a bow at your wrist. Your skirt is plain black, but the way it hugs your hips leaves little to the imagination. He can’t even begin to guess what you’re dressed as because other than the night he met you, it’s the most clothes he’s ever seen you in.

Excluding those little silky matching sets you’re usually wearing when he comes over. But those don’t usually stay on too long before they end up on the floor of your living room. Or bedroom. Or kitchen.

He usually has to leave before you, so he’s usually headed out your front door while you’re still wrapped up in one of those fluffy white towels you have. He’s enjoying seeing you here in his favorite bar in that outfit and heading towards him like you’re just as happy to see him as he is to see you.

“Huh, if I'm not mistaken I’m pretty sure that’s what I sent you into work in this morning,” you say, grinning up at him and lightly tugging on the zipper of his flight suit. “Are you supposed to be a Walk of Shame?”

Bradley wraps an arm around you because he can’t help himself. “Please, we all know it’s called the Stride of Pride. It’s never a shame when I get laid.” He presses his fingertips into the swell of the top of your ass before leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear, “Plus, I didn’t have time to go home and grab my costume because someone lured me back into bed this morning.”

He had to do 200 extra push-ups and stay behind to do paperwork as penance for being late the third time that week, but it was worth it. But by the time he was finished, the sun was already well on its way to setting. If he’d been a bit more forward thinking he would have brought the costume he had planned with him, instead of thinking he’d have time to swing by his house to change. Bradley didn’t think it was too much of a let down for you, not with the way you’re looking at him. It’s that same heated way that tells him you’re remembering your reaction to it the first time you’d ever seen him in it.

“Sounds like poor planning on your part,” you tease, your finger tracing the edge of his nametag. “I can’t believe you’re wearing your work clothes to a Halloween party, Rooster.”

“Ok, funny girl. Tell me then, what’re you supposed to be?” He takes a step back and gives you a blatant once over, taking his time admiring the shape of you from your head to your toes in some wicked looking heels and back up again.

Maybe if things went well tonight, you’d leave them on for him later when he gets you alone.

“That’s for me to know, and for you to spend the night guessing,” you smirk, the curve of your mouth promising mischief. “But I think you’ll like it once you figure it out.”

“Bradshaw, are you going to introduce us to your sexy librarian?” Hangman hollers, waving the two of you over back to the table with his hat. Bradley doesn’t hear as much as he sees the oof that comes out of the blonde when Phoenix sends an elbow into his side.

Rooster glances at you with a raise of his eyebrow and you shake your head. Not a sexy librarian then.

“I take it you know the rodeo clown?”

He tips his head back and laughs, already looking forward to telling Hangman. “I do. And Gracie Lou Freebush over there too.”

You wave over at Nat, gesturing to her costume and mouth obsessed, before turning back to him to ask, “Is that gun real?”

“I’m too afraid to ask,” he jokes, only half kidding. “C’mon let me get you a drink, I have an in with the bartender.”

“Are you trying to show off for me, Bradley?”

“Definitely.” He reaches out and toys with the end of the bow on your sleeve. “Is it working, Leslie Knope?”

You just send him that devastating smile of yours and thread your fingers through his. “I think I'm going to have so much fun with this tonight.”

“But full disclosure, you see Napoleon Bonaparte?” He points over to where Mav is behind the bar wearing tasseled shoulder pads pouring pints behind the bar next to a bedazzled Penny in a white neoclassical style dress. “That’s my godfather and his fiancée.”

You school the surprise on your face quickly. “Bradley Bradshaw, are you a nepobaby?”

“That’s a story for another time.” He chuckles, carefully winding his way around a Fred Flintstone and a Deviled Egg to the bar. “Be warned though, the Blue Slime Sipper is lethal. I had four last year and put on an a cappella performance of the Ghostbusters theme song.”

“Please tell me someone has a video of that,” you laugh.

“I called in every favor I had to get all evidence of that particular performance erased.”

At the bar, you order two Blue Slime Sippers looking the picture of innocence as you admire the giant spider affixed to the top of the bar by the till, even though he knows better.

One for him and one for you.

He briefly introduces you to Penny and Mav, trying to keep it casual. Thankfully, it’s busy enough that there’s not more time for small talk or jokes about the frosted tips he had when he was thirteen.

Their guess at a modern day I Love Lucy was also met with a no.

But he’s pretty sure Mav’s attempt to stealthily shoot him two thumbs up after you get your neon blue colored drinks fails based on the way your lips are pressed together in an attempt to smother the smile that he sees toying at the corners of your mouth.

Over the course of the night, it becomes a game that the rest of the team joins in on as he introduces them to the girl he’s been hung up on for weeks.

You help him kick Payback and Fanboy’s asses at the Eyeball Beer Pong that Penny had set up outside on the deck.

“Damn, Lawyer Barbie has an arm,” Fanboy says, the spring of the Slingy Dog costume sagging sadly between him and Payback, watching as you sink another doodled on ping-pong ball into a cup.

“I think we need a rematch,” Payback countered after their loss, “Flight Attendants have great hand-eye coordination, it’s an unfair advantage.”

Both guesses were met with a no.

When you side with Nat over Death Becomes Her as the best, but most underrated, Halloween movie, she throws her hands up in victory, “Thank you! Finally, someone with good taste… Olivia Pope?”

It’s another no, but he’s happy to see how much fun you’re having with his friends.

Between the riotous costume contest voting, and the one-man performance of “Thriller” that Bob puts on, and the pumpkin tic-tac-toe, Rooster has a lot of fun making his own guesses.

Except for the time he offers up Miss Bliss, he nearly chokes on his Cauldron Cooler when you ask him, “Is that a porn thing?”

Which in hindsight, he probably should have specified from the show Saved by the Bell, that he only knew because he’d been into Tiffani Amber Thiessen as a kid, but he doesn’t get to because you’re too busy delightedly laughing at his near spit-take.

He sticks close to your side, an arm slung over your shoulder or around your waist. There’s a moment when he gets worried he might be smothering you, but then you’d lean your head on his shoulder and he figured you were right where you wanted to be.

The two of you step outside when the Monster Mash smashburger contest starts up, the song following you to the sun-bleached wooden deck.

There are less people out here now, a few people are stationed behind the ping-pong table and others are seated on the picnic tables chatting and swapping stories. Most of his friends had stayed inside to cheer on Coyote’s attempt to hold onto his burger eating crown.

It’s the first time all night that he has you on your own, and while he appreciates how welcoming his friends are with wanting to make you feel included and slipping in more than a few jokes at his expense, he’s ready to have you to himself for a while.

But first.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re supposed to be?” He runs a finger along the ruffle down the front of your shirt. “I think I’ve lost count of how many failed attempts I’ve made now and It’s starting to take a toll on my ego.”

“How about this, you tell me what you were supposed to be and then I’ll tell you what my costume is,” you offer, playfully.

You’re still toying with him like a cat does a string and he doesn’t mind a single bit.

He steps in close, winding an arm around your low back pulling you in close. “James Bond,” he says, enjoying the way your eyes light up.

“Now that’s something I would love to see,” you murmur, running your hand along his arm. “Not that the flight suit isn’t working for me.” He grins smug because he knows exactly how much this flight suit works for you.

Rooster shakes his head amused. “I’ll put it on for you later if you want.” He grins smug because he knows exactly how much this flight suit works for you, but you haven’t seen him in a tux yet. “Now, I’ve been dying to know since the moment you walked in, what are you dressed as?”

You grin, wide and bright, like you’ve been waiting for this all night.

“Your future girlfriend, I thought it was pretty obvious.”

Bradley doesn’t waste a moment bringing both of his hands to your face and getting his lips on yours. A surprised noise escapes from the back of your throat before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer.

Your full lips soften under his demanding ones, the sensual slide of your lips against his has him desperate for more. His tongue chases after the sweetness of your mouth. He can’t get enough of it.

He can’t get enough of you.

“So I take it, you like my costume then?” you ask against his lips.

“I’m about to go swipe that trophy from Cousin Itt because yours is the best one here by far.” You giggle when he pulls you back in to kiss you again- or tries to. “C’mon, sweetheart, I need you to cooperate here. I’m trying to kiss my girlfriend.”

But then his teeth click against yours because now you’ve got him smiling too.

You skim another soft kiss against his mouth and lean back. “You know, I did have a back-up costume, just in case things didn’t go well.” You put a finger up and twist a little in his arms to rummage in your purse. And when you turn back towards him you’ve got a bright red clown nose on your face.

“Are you kidding me? The only clown here is Seresin.” He chuckles and gently pulls it from off your nose. “I’ve been trying to figure out how lock this down for weeks now. That tux was going to be my ace. It’s about a half size too small, but I figured it might do the trick to make things more official. It’s a good thing I’ve got a girl who knows what she wants.”

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Bradshaw. I still want to see you in it.”

“I can make that happen. Especially since that means I get to take you home with me tonight.” He drops a kiss on your cheek. “I’ve got an idea about what we can be next year though.”

“It’s not even midnight yet, and you’re thinking about next year?”

Bradley shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m all about playing the long game. Just want to give you something to look forward to.”

“Let’s hear it then,” you say, giving him an expectant look.

“Considering how we met and all, I think contestants from Supermarket Sweep would be a solid choice for us. There’s nothing sexier than some khakis and sweatshirts.”

You look delighted and amused and like his.

“Done. You know I am a big fan of you in a pair of khakis.”

Rooster tugs you to him again needing to taste your grin. He hears a cheer go up inside of the bar, probably for whoever won the contest, but he pretends it’s for him.

After all, he’s the one who got the girl.

Happy Halloween! I'm dropping a smitten Rooster into everyone's candy bucket this year! Thank you for reading!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine

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comicnerd557 · 18 days ago

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The one where Jake tells the squad how he met his wife

Jake Seresin x reader

A/N: Sooooo, this was supposed to be a blurb and it's almost 6k words. It's fine. Enjoy! There may be a part two if there's interest, just let me know!

Warnings: Jake is accidentally an asshole, plus sized!reader, reader is a female, cursing, sexual innuendos and dirty thoughts but no smut, even then, MDNI!!!

as always, a thanks to my bestie @dalamjisung who introduced me to Top Gun Maverick in the first place. Love you boo!!

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Okay but like, imagine Hangman, cocky, badass, can’t-wipe-the-smirk-off-his-face, Hangman, married

Most would probably picture a woman equally as badass as he is, tough as nails, spits literal fire and can’t go an hour without jumping her hubby’s bones

That’s certainly what the rest of the Dagger Squad thought when Hangman let it slip he was married

“Someone married you, Seresin?” Payback was both shocked and horrified. Shocked someone accepted his proposal, horrified they hadn’t changed their fucking mind yet

It was no secret Hangman was a lot to be around, and while, yes, he had relaxed a bit with age, he was still a goddamn handful. He had stopped flirting with every skirt he saw about three years back, but….the squad just assumed he got tired of the playboy life and decided to go bachelor

“You don’t wear a ring.” Phoenix was skeptical, as usual, sipping her beer with narrowed, observant eyes. Without wasting a beat, Jake reached under the collar of his shirt, grabbed his dog tags, and held them up

Sure enough, in between the tags sat a simple silver band. “I wanted gold, but, the Mrs said she would sooner rip her finger off than wear gold. Clashes with her skin tone apparently.” He snorted

More shocked silence. It was all true. Jake Seresin was married. “How long?” Bob questioned. He hid his shock much better than the others, something Jake was thankful for

Hangman paused to think. “It’ll be 11 months in two weeks.” Jaws dropped. Jake’s ego took a hit. He laughed, a bit awkward. “I’m a bit offended, y'all are so surprised. I took a month off for the honeymoon…You guys didn’t think anything of it?”

“Honestly, thought you were on a mission, I swear to go-Wait, hang on, why the hell didn’t we get invites?!” Coyote’s protest was met with rallied cries of confusion. The entire squad was upset. “It was just me, her, and our folks. Private, small, quiet.”

Hangman? Quiet? Private? The man was like a walking disco ball. He fucking loved attention. Whenever the thought of Jake getting married crossed through heads, it was always assumed it would be a huge spectacle with fireworks and maybe a dance crew

The squad was silent for a full minute, processing the information they had just learned. It was a quiet night at the Hard Deck too, meaning there wasn’t even the chatter of strangers to fill the void. “Oh my god, someone say something! It’s not that big of a deal! I’m fucking 34, none of you expected me to be married? Really?!” Jake threw his hands up, laughing

Finally, shockingly, Rooster spoke. “We’re happy for you, really bro, just…What’s she like? How’d you guys meet? Name, age, job, we wanna know.”

How did they meet? A smile spread across Jake’s face before he could stop it. It wasn’t Jake Seresin’s usual cocky, condescending smirk. It was a genuine smile, sappy, sweet…and weirdly soft. None of them had ever seen anything like it

“Alright little ones,” Jake teased, sitting down across from the squad. Part of him worshiped the attention. “Gather around and Papa Jake will spill the beans.” Dramatically clearing his throat, Hangman started his story. “It all started three years ago…”

Jake had been absolutely fucking beat. The San Francisco sun was nothing to laugh about, and Maverick had, once again, kicked their ass in training. Hangman only added fuel to the fire, running his mouth, and as a consequence, he had to do double the amount of pushups the others did

“Fuckin’ ridiculous.” He grumbled, slamming the door of his truck shut with a huff, head falling forward onto the steering wheel dramatically. He had spent the entire day working his ass off, didn’t even have time to eat. Jake was fucking starving

Too lazy to cook, the pilot grabbed his phone, googled ‘food near me’, and clicked on the very first one, allowing the directions to guide him without even check where the hell he was going

Imagine his delight, then, when GPS led him to a quaint, soft looking bakery. The parking lot was empty, causing Jake to mumble a quiet thanks to the Big Guy upstairs before hopping out of his truck, making his way inside

The bell on the door jingled as he pushed it open, and the rush of ice cold air conditioning felt like the sweetest relief hitting him square in the face. He groaned aloud, content, tense muscles slowly relaxing the more the scent of baked goods invaded his nose

It wasn’t overly sweet, thank god, but just sweet enough to lure even the pickiest eater through those doors. Why this place wasn’t crowded, Jake didn’t know. Were the workers rude? Ugly? Maybe the food was unsafe to eat, leaving people glued to their toilets for hours on end

“Hi there!” A voice chirped from behind the counter, causing Jake to finally reopen his eyes after closing them in bliss. Like Cupid’s arrow had struck him, Hangman froze in place. Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.

Never before had Jake Seresin, Hangman himself, been rendered speechless by a woman. Until now. “....Are you okay sir?” The heat had been especially brutal today…Maybe this guy had heat stroke and was just wandering, confused?

Jake managed to put one foot in front of the other and make his way up to the register. Thank fucking god he didn’t trip. Now, it was time to flirt. “....Doughnut.” His brain had been left at the base, clearly, cause that was the only fucking word Jake managed to squeeze out

You smiled, barely biting back a giggle. “Did you want a doughnut or…?” Jake blinked, forcing himself to fucking think. “Your dress. It has doughnuts. It’s cute, very fitting. Are you the owner or just a really dedicated employee?” Yes. Yes! The AC had finally cooled his head enough to think straight

“The owner.” You answered, smile turning a bit shy, hands soothing down the front of your dress. “It’s actually one of many pastry themed dresses I own. Today we have a special on doughnuts, so I figured my doughnut dress would be a good way to advertise that.”

“I’ll take 'em all.” Excuse you? Huh? Jake’s brain was screaming at his mouth for moving too quick. It seemed you were just as shocked, eyes going wide like dinner plates, and fuck, Jake’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of your visible excitement. “Really?! You haven’t even tried them yet!” You had fussed over him in a way that had Jake making up his mind. He would buy every single fucking doughnut if it kept that smile on your face

He just nodded. “Yes ma’am. I’m actually a Navy Pilot, and my squad just got back from a highly classified, super dangerous mission, so, we’re celebrating.” He explained, taking the chance to brag about how super cool awesome brave he was. “Feeding soldiers is like feeding a damn zoo. It’ll take all these doughnuts and more to fill ‘em.” Again, your smile grew, now fully beaming

“Take a seat! Here, you can have this one on the house while you wait. I’ll get everything packed up and I can help you carry them out to your ca-Oh i’m gonna need to build more boxes.” Now a busy bee, Jake watched as you hurried around behind the counter, packing up every single doughnut you had in the store, including some fresh from the oven. By the time you finished the pile of boxes was almost as tall as you

His wallet would hate him for a while, but the crew would be eternally grateful, especially if the rest of the doughnuts were as good as the one you had given him to munch on while he waited. “I knew this area was filled with pilots, but I hadn’t had any visit yet. Thank you for your service!” You giggled, grinning ear to ear. “I added a military discount, and combined with our sale, you saved a lot of money! Your total is…” The number was in the triple digits. Jake still didn’t hesitate as he tapped his card. After the beep, he reached into his wallet, pulled out a stack of cash, and dumped it into the tip jar

“Oh, oh no!” You immediately protested. “I can’t accept that! You’re really saving me, if the doughnuts don’t sell, they get tossed and it’s a really big waste. Honestly, I can’t take th-” You reached into the jar to take the cash out. Jake reached out, grabbing your wrist, and fuck, the instant zap was felt by the both of you

He smiled, sweet, calm. “Keep it. These are the best damn doughnuts I’ve had in my life. I owe it to ya.” Hangman managed to wink before grabbing half the pile of boxes, promising to come back for the second half after he loaded them up

The next day, when he showed up to work, he made the new trainees carry the doughnuts into the break room. Why the hell should he do the work? He bought the damn things after all

“Is it someone’s birthday or something? Someone die?” Rooster asked, pink sprinkles falling from his frosting covered mustache. “Whatever it is, I hope it happens again. These fucking rock.” Fanboy groaned, mouth full. Jake just smirked. “You’re welcome. I was feeling generous, figured I would remind all of you why you love me so much.” He mused. Everyone stopped chewing

“...They’re poisoned. Everyone go throw up.” Phoenix, despite her words, finished the doughnut she had in hand

Jake just rolled his eyes. “I think you mean “Thank you Jake, you’re so handsome and kind and funny and smart, oh my god any girl would be lucky to have you!” Right?” Maverick saved her from having to respond, calling for the team to gather up for a meeting

That afternoon, Jake returned to the little bake shop on the corner, prepared to ask for Doughnut Girl’s number…Except she wasn’t there. Someone else was behind the counter. Jake ended up just buying a single cookie before leaving, head hung low

The routine continued for a week straight. It got to the point where Jake asked about the owner. The teenage employee behind the counter just grinned. “Oh she works morning shift most of the time! Usually gets off by three.” Fuck. Jake almost never got off before six. Another cookie bought, another disappointed look as he walked out

For a few days, Hangman tried to move on. He really did. After picking up three skirts in three days, he still had you on his mind. The girls moaning obnoxiously under him looked nothing like you. They were tiny, practically toothpicks. You filled out your dress, body soft and curved. They had a thigh gap. Yours jiggled with every step in a way that hypnotized Jake. He gave up after the third night

He woke up extra early the next morning and set out, determined to complete his mission. He was gonna get your number, take you out, and fuck, maybe even marry you one day, who knew? He was feeling a little crazy

So, at 5:45 the next morning, Jake pulled into the parking lot of your bakery, turned off the engine of his truck, fixed his hair, and walked inside. “Welcome to The Cozy Oven!” Your voice was like music to his ears. No more bored teens or sweet but confused old ladies. Finally, he was reunited with his baker

“Oh it’s you! Mira said you came looking for me.” Was he delusional or were you teasing him? There was a glint in your eyes Jake couldn’t quite place, and the way you leaned over the counter seemed to prove his theory. You were so teasing him. Oh it was on. “You got me hooked on your sweets then disappeared on me.” He mused, smirking, palms flat against the counter. “The sweets have still been here.” You point out, giggling

Again. Fucking music his ears. “Tastes a bit sweeter when I’m looking at you.” Jake’s voice dipped low, leaning in a little closer. In an instant, your cheeks went hot, the tips of your ears darker in color from all the blood rushing to your face at once. “O-oh, you think so?” No longer could you meet Jake’s eyes, though, the smile didn’t leave your face. “Don’t tell me you’re a shy thing. Guys must come in every hour to beg for your number.”

At first, you laughed, like Jake had just told a super funny joke. When you noticed he wasn’t laughing, you stopped. “Oh, you were serious?” You weren’t being sarcastic or rude. Just genuinely confused. “I can count the times I’ve been hit on by strangers on one hand. I mean, my best friend calls me her wife, but, that’s just her thing. She’s married.”

Now, it was Jake’s turn to be confused. How the hell were you not married with three kids and another on the way? He wouldn’t say it aloud (yet) but fuck, you were like, ideal wife material. He had only recently started thinking about settling down and getting married and you checked off his checklist fucking perfectly

And god those hips were down right sinful, and fucking meant for holding and having babies. Not that Jake’s head was filled with thoughts of bending you over the counter and stuffing you full of cream instead of you stuffing the doughnuts. Definitely not

If his standard issue pants were a little tighter than usual, that’s not his fault

“Are they blind, or am I the first single man to walk into this bakery?” This man was single? Fucking. How. He had made your entire month buying every doughnut in the bakery and had done so with a grin and a sweet, somehow not creepy, wink. The bakery was doing…okay. You had just opened your doors a few months ago, and while your head was still above water, you were getting tired of treading really quickly

The pilot had the biggest order you had received so far, and holy hell that tip was enough to even buy that new super fancy cat food for your cat. Sniffles had been almost as grateful as you had. Almost. She never said as much, obviously

“Well, single men walk into this bakery often, so…You must be blind.” You giggled again. Jake laughed, tossing his head back. “I assure you, sweets, my eyes are just fine. They wouldn’t let me fly if they weren’t. I’d be stuck on the ground, or worse, the backseat.” He shuttered with over exaggerated disgust, playing it up to hear you laugh again

It worked. He beamed. “At the risk of making myself look like a complete jackass…” Jake leaned in, dramatically serious. “Can I have your number? I’d like to prove to you exactly why those men are blind as bats.” Jake let his eyes wander, slow, drinking in your frame like he was sipping the finest whiskey in the world. Just as slow, your smile dropped

As sweet as he seemed, the way he stared…Men usually wanted one thing. “I don’t even know your name.” You responded, voice quieter than he had heard it before. Jake, being Jake, chalked it up to your close proximity, so distracted by those pretty lips moving he failed to hear the cautious, almost anxious tone in your voice. “Lieutenant Jake Seresin. At your service.” There it was. His secret weapon. Every woman he ever met (Phoenix didn’t count she’s weird) had practically tossed their panties at him whenever he dropped that line

Women went nuts for men in uniform. One mention of his rank and they would fall to their knees. “I fly for Top Gun. Have you heard of it?” Everyone had. Jake was really pulling out the big guns now, but if he went to work without your number, he may just fly into the mountains for fun. Much to his shock, and dismay, you shook your head. Gone was that cute, sunny smile from before. Now, you just seemed…withdrawn

“I thank you again for your service, Lieutenant, but I’m afraid I don’t give out my personal number to customers.” A fatal shot. You went for the kill by reaching for the business card on the counter. “But if you ever need catering, please don’t hesitate to call the shop and put in your order. Would you like to buy something? I’m afraid I don’t have time to chat.”

A lie. You had all the time in the world. Mornings were always a bit slow. But with Jake’s intentions clear, you weren’t interested in entertaining his chubby chaser fantasies anymore. What other reason would he have for asking you out? Most girls around this area were tiny gym babes the size of twigs. While many preferred that, there were always men out there who thought you’d be a nice easy lay due to your size. They didn’t have to put in effort, clearly you would be desperate enough

Though you didn’t get hit on often, a blind person could see the hunger in Jake’s eyes as he stared at your body. In his eyes, he was admiring fine art. In yours, he was thinking of how easy it would be to hit and quit. Besides, he had another thing working against him. Military men never really wanted a relationship. They wanted a fuck, a stress reliever

Admittedly, it was a little upsetting. Jake had seemed so kind, but, the more you thought about it, the more you realized how his pretty face and sweet words had tricked you into assuming his entire personality after one fucking meeting. Pathetic. Maybe you did need to get laid. How long had it been since you pulled that little box out from under your bed again?

Jake’s grin dropped. He hadn’t been turned down in….well, ever. Honestly. Maybe when he was freshly twenty and still learning how to flirt? What had he done wrong? “Oh yeah, of course.” He stood up straight, smile now much less flirty and much more polite. “Uh, I’ll just…Take one of those.” He pointed to a random pastry in the case, tapping his card before, once again, leaving a hefty tip in the jar

“Have a good one, miss.” Jake walked out of the bakery in a daze, a frown tugging at his lips. He knew you were different, he knew that the minute your hand grazed his and pure electricity filled the air, but not even a number? Really? He wasn’t upset with you, of course, just confused and disappointed in himself

Maybe it was delusional, maybe the lack of oxygen to his brain had gotten to him, but Jake had already been imagining the second, third, and fourth date before the first one had even taken place. He made it to work ten minutes early with an uneaten cookie in hand. He passed it to Coyote the moment he asked about it, claiming he wasn’t that hungry anymore

Everyone noticed Jake was a little quieter that day. He wasn’t as cocky or boisterous, keeping his comments to a minimum, not even complaining when Maverick had him with a tone within the first half hour of their dog fight, didn’t push back when Phoenix made fun of him

“Alright what the hell is wrong with you?” Bradley had been trying to rile Jake up all day. Jake hadn’t indulged the man once. They were in the shower room now, Maverick having ordered them all to hose off after they had spent nearly an hour running through a mud soaked obstacle course, part of a new training program meant to help agility just in case they were out of their planes and behind enemy lines

Payback shut his locker, towel wrapped around his waist. “You didn’t even take the bait when Bob tripped over his own feet. Bob. You love teasing Bob!” Jake just sighed, head leaned back against his locker, annoyance clear on his face. “What’d you strike out or something? Get shot down?” Rooster had, unknowingly, hit the nail on the head. He realized as much as soon as the look in Hangman’s eyes turned murderous

“Oh my god he did. Our Hangman is heartbroken. He’s grown up so much.” Bradley sniffled dramatically. “Remember when a rejection just meant he moved on to the next girl?”

“I don’t get rejected.” Jake huffed, slamming open his locker, grabbing his comb to fix his hair, not because it needed fixing, but because he couldn’t look at that stupid smug look on Rooster’s face anymore. “Bradley,” Javy, his best friend of over ten years, finally spoke up. “Leave him be. Clearly this girl isn’t just a girl. Wanna tell us about it bro?”

Not really, if he were being honest. Jake kept his mouth closed, weighing the pros and cons of telling the truth versus denying everything. On one hand, the guys on his squad lived for teasing each other, digging under the others skin with glee. On the other, there was no one on earth Jake trusted more than the men in the locker room with him. They had saved his ass time and time again, and he had done the same for them. Maybe, just maybe, they could offer some solid advice

“There’s this woman, she ain’t no girl, this is a full bodied, grown woman, and she’s nothing like the skirts I usually chase. But she’s in my fuckin’ head and I asked for her number this morning. She turned me down. Turned me down cold.” He huffed, tossing his comb back into his locker with a frown. “And I ain’t mad at her. It’s my own fault, I think I came across a bit…”

“Pervy?”

“Sex addicted?”

“Menacing?”

“Okay everyone but Bob can go fuck themselves.” Jake scowled. “But, yeah. I guess. I don’t know. I gave her the line that usually makes panties fly off and she just shut down.” Bradley snorted, rolling his eyes. “The Lieutenant line? Really? Look man, we all use our uniforms to get into beds, but if you want something more you’re gonna have to actually work for it. Flowers, chocolates, sweet talk about something other than her ass. That sort of shit.”

Jake had never felt so fucking old. He had to learn how to pitch woo now? Really? “She worth the effort?” Bob asked quietly. Jake paused before shrugging. “My heart gets funny around her. Yeah, she makes me hard in my fuckin’ cargo pants,” Payback groaned in disgust. “But it’s more than that.” Silence took over the room. Once again, Jake was left with his thoughts

“We’ll help.” Reuben nodded, determined. Jake let out a loud groan. “Oh my god, I cannot get help picking up a woman from you guys, you’re supposed to come to me for that.” His ego would never recover from this. Ever. “We come to you for help getting laid, you come to us for help getting a date. Seems fair to me.”

And so, Operation Get-Hangman-His-Date started. They looped Phoenix in almost immediately, rightly deciding her female perspective might just be useful. They spent the night at the Hard Deck coaching Hangman on how to be a true gentleman. Bob got the honor of spraying him with a spray bottle every time he so much as glanced away from a woman’s face after winning a game of pool

The next morning, Jake was ready. He had the day off from training, his only commitment was a beach day with the squad around two, but until then, he was free to charm his way into your heart. He was dressed in his civilian clothes, his hair styled to look like he had just rolled out of bed despite having worked on it for nearly half an hour

In his hand, there was a bouquet of flowers, small, just five or so. Natasha suggested they start simple. “She’s gonna think you’re a stalker otherwise.” She explained. “Or some majorly obsessed creep, which, you are, but, at least you’re not the murder and dump the body type.”

The bell jingled as he stepped inside. Today’s dress was pie themed, and in the display counter were a handful of different flavored pies. The flavor of the day was apple, apparently. You were in the middle of bringing out new product, making everything neat and perfect. When you locked eyes with Lieutenant Jake Seresin, your sweet, cheery smile turned awkward. Great. He was back

“Ma’am,” He greeted, the southern drawl more obvious in his words. “Women love a southern accent.” Javy had explained. “Use it.” So he did. Jake didn’t work to hide the Texas drawl. “I think I maybe came off a bit strong yesterday.” You snorted quietly, amused. A bit? The guy was practically making eye contact with your nipples

Still, you let him continue…Mainly because he was a good customer who could bring a whole lot of business if he ever decided to order catering. “I wanted to apologize.” Jake paused, trying to remember what he had been instructed to say last night. “You’re very, very attractive, and god knows I would love to take you back to my place and-”

He was losing you again. Jake stopped himself, clearing his throat with a bashful smile. “Anyway, that’s not why I asked for your number.” You looked at him skeptically, cautious. “You wouldn’t look at my eyes, just my body.” Though your words cut deep, mainly because of the truth behind them, your voice was soft like a cloud

No matter how nervous or upset you were, you spoke to Jake like he would cry if you yelled. He had never been approached so….softly before. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I just, I ain’t ever been interested in a woman like you before and-” Immediately, your face dropped into a sharp scowl. No more soft. No more gentle. “A woman like me?”

Jake knew that tone. That was the tone of an angry woman. Alarm bells went off in his head. “T-that’s not how I meant to say it. I just meant you’re not my usual type.”

Fuck

Oh my god

Did he just say that?

You looked…irate. To say the very least

“Okay mr, I can tolerate you staring at my tits, I can tolerate you coming back in here sniffling with flowers in hand trying to make up for staring, but I won’t tolerate this. I get it, you’ve never been with a fat chick before, not used to putting in all this effort for a lay. You will not come into my bakery, my business, and tell me you’re acting like this because you don’t know how to handle a woman my size. I’m gonna respectfully ask you to leave.”

Somehow, in the span of just mere moments, Jake had fucked everything up. Now, as he sat on the beach, beer in hand, he did everything he could to ignore the scolding from Phoenix. He had told Javy what happened in private, but, of course, Payback had overheard everything, and within minutes, news had spread to the whole goddamn squad

“I cannot believe you, Hangman! You basically just admitted you’d never usually go for her! I mean, I knew you could say some dumb shit but you’re not a dumb guy, so why the hell did you act like a fucking Florida frat boy?”

Why did he? Jake didn’t know. The look of hurt that had flashed over your face before the anger set in had been haunting him since this morning

Jake stood, mumbled something about grabbing another beer, before taking a walk down the beach. He needed some time by himself, some time to think, to breathe without the squad shaming him for his fuck up. It was the third drink in that an idea hit him square in the face…Right as he walked into a sign advertising the 50th anniversary of the Hard Deck

Vaguely, he remembered Penny mentioning that she needed to find a good bakery to make a cake and enough cupcakes to feed an army. He stood, shaking the sand off, and ran top speed into the Hard Deck. “Penny! My favorite bartender!” He beamed, tossing an arm over her shoulders. “Hangman, my favorite headache. Why are you here? We aren’t technically open, you know.”

That never mattered. The Dagger Squad was always welcome, they knew that. Penny had an open door policy when it came to her team. “You still looking for a caterer?” He asked, smile wide and confident. Penny nodded. “Yeah, I’m having a hell of a time finding someone willing and able to make so much on my budget. I can’t afford to break the bank.” Hangman’s grin grew wider

“What if I told you, I know a place?”

It was almost 6 pm when you got the call. Eight dozen cupcakes, and a two tiered cake celebrating the anniversary of the most popular Navy bar in Cali. Their budget was low, but the woman on the phone was just too sweet to turn down, and this was the perfect chance to get the Cozy Oven’s name out there and known

A deal was made, the money was sent over, and two days later, you and your entire team were baking like mad men, scrambling around to get everything ready and fresh for the hungry customers at the Hard Deck. At the same time, the Dagger Squad was running around getting the bar ready. Maverick had asked them to help, and none of them even considered refusing

An hour before opening, the Cozy Oven delivery van pulled up in front of the hard deck. Jake, Javy and Bradley had all gone on a run for the last bit of party supplies they needed, leaving Bob, Reuben, Natasha and Mickey to finish setting up what they could. Penny had told you not to worry about bringing a team to carry all the sweets in. She had her own.

Within minutes, everything was carried in, and while you knew there were dozens of Navy bars around, part of you was still nervous Jake would show up. “I can’t thank you enough.” Penny had trapped you in a conversation, seemingly unaware of how eager you were to leave

“Honestly, when Jake recommended you, I wasn’t sure but then he went on ranting and raving about your food and-” You stopped her, confused. “Jake…Recommended my bakery?” You had honestly figured he wouldn’t ever bring up the bakery again after how harsh you had turned him down. Penny nodded. “Oh yeah, he loves your doughnuts, says he’s put on ten pounds since finding you. Does him some good, I think.”

You left a few minutes later, confused, and very, very conflicted. Had you misjudged the whole situation? Had you misjudged Jake entirely? Why the hell would he recommend you for catering after everything?

The rest of your night was spent cleaning the bakery top to bottom. You couldn’t sleep when your head was so full of thoughts and when you couldn’t sleep, you needed to do something productive, or you would loose your fucking mind

By opening the next morning, you still hadn’t slept. Your hands were raw from scrubbing, back sore from mopping, but you still opened the bakery with a smile on your face, no matter how painted on that smile was

For a fourth time, Jake Seresin walked into the Cozy Oven. This time, he had no flowers, no styled hair and no practiced words. He approached the counter calmly. “Can I have a dozen doughnuts please?” He requested, perfectly polite

This could have been a perfectly normal customer interaction, an average experience…But there was one question burning the tip of your tongue. “Why did you tell Penny to cater from my bakery?” Half way through loading the doughnuts, you blurted it out

Jake paused, blinking rapidly before furrowing his brows. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re an amazing baker. I was the idiot. My friend needed a good baker and I knew one. Just cause I got rejected don’t mean I’m gonna go around bad mouthing the best bakery in California.”

The look on your face softened. Fuck. Stupid Jake and his stupid effect on your stupid heart. “And I am really, really sorry for what I said the other day. I uh…My friends tried to coach me on how to romance a woman instead of seduce. Guess I’m not a very good student.”

“You wanted to romance me?” The thought seemed shocking to you. Jake nodded. “I wasn’t lying when I told you, you’re damn beautiful. I’m just an idiot who never even thought about how to ask a lady on a date. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, when I told you I’d never gone after a woman like you before. I haven’t, and yet, you’re the only damn woman that’s been stuck in my mind this long.”

Jake hadn’t come here to bear his soul, but here he was, unable to stop talking, rambling like some nervous teenager all over again. He was stopped by a soft hand over his mouth. “Jake,” Slowly, your smile grew. “Ask me for my number again.”

His eyes went wide. Your hand moved away, allowing him to speak again. Heart racing like a horse in the Kentucky Derby, Jake did as asked. “Can I have your number, sweets?”

You reached behind the counter, grabbed that same business card that had shut him down so harshly before, and scribbled something on the back. “Ask me on a date.” You instructed him again. Hangman smirked. “You’re certainly a bossy thing, aren’t you?” He teased lightly

“Would you like to go on a real, romantic date with me, Sweetheart?” Your heart melted. Fuck. That accent really did something. Combined with those soft green eyes and there was no way you could deny him again. “Give me an hour notice before you pick me up, and I’ll be there.”

Jake leaned back in his chair, smiling. He had finished his story, and now, the Dagger’s knew exactly how he had met his wife. Three beats of silence passed before chaos exploded.

“THE GIRL YOU NEEDED ADVICE ON IS YOUR WIFE?!”

“I DIDN’T THINK ANYTHING CAME FROM THAT MAN YOU NEVER SAID ANYTHING.”

“How the fuck did he get married before Bob? Bob is prime husband material.”

Jake just smirked, finishing his drink. “Sorry boys, Phoenix, but I gotta get home. The Mrs gets real grumpy if she falls asleep alone, and I’m too good of a husband to make my wife unhappy.”

#Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader #Top Gun Maverick #Hangman #Jake Seresin #top gun maverick fic #Top Gun Maverick X reader

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slvbum · 24 days ago

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BEACH DAY ♡ Rafe Cameron!

content WARNING: Rafe Cameron × Bimbo!Reader.

based on this request HERE!

Rafe made the executive decision to ditch his work day at Cameron Development. All because his girl had been begging all week to go swimming, her excitement peaking when she’d shown off her new bikini collection, three stunning pieces, all in shades of pink, glitter, and shimmer, each one hugging her curves in a way that made his jaw drop.

“Rafey, please!” she’d pleaded, her big eyes sparkling.

Against his better judgment, and the stack of emails waiting, he caved, calling his assistant to clear his schedule.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, grinning. “She’s worth it.”

By noon, they were on his yacht, cutting through the turquoise waves toward a secluded little island off the coast, just the two of them. The deck was decked out with towels, a cooler of her favourite strawberry smoothies, and a playlist of her pop hits blasting through the speakers. She’d slipped into her favourite bikini—a shimmery rose-gold number with tiny bows at the hips, the top barely containing her bouncing tits as she moved—and Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off her.

But even on this private escape, work wouldn’t let him go. His phone buzzed incessantly on the deck table, investors and suppliers calling about some last-minute deal, his voice clipped as he answered, “Yeah, just a sec, princess,” when she called him to join her in the water. She was wading near the shore, the waves lapping at her feet, her phone in hand as she snapped selfies. Fed up with his excuses, she turned, her pout turning into a determined grin as she marched back toward him, her wet feet leaving little prints in the sand.

“Baby, come on!” she whined, grabbing his hand with both of hers, tugging with all her might despite him being twice her size. He didn’t resist much, truth be told, he was walking with her, amused by her effort, her tiny frame pulling at him like she thought she could drag him. “You promised we’d swim!” she huffed, her cheeks flushing, her bikini bottom riding up slightly as she yanked harder.

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, letting her “drag” him to the water’s edge, his phone forgotten as he tossed it onto a towel.

The moment the waves hit his ankles, she squealed, splashing him, and he didn’t care anymore... how could he when she looked so goddamn gorgeous, her giggles lighting up the island, her wet hair sticking to her neck, her body glistening? He lunged forward, scooping her up in his arms, her legs kicking as she shrieked with delight.

“Rafey, put me down!” she laughed, but he just grinned, carrying her deeper into the waves, the water lapping at his chest as he held her bridal-style. She wriggled, trying to escape, and he let her slip, chasing her through the surf, his hands grabbing at her waist, her hips, her laughter ringing out as she splashed him back. He caught her easily, pulling her against his chest, the water cool against their heated skin, and kissed her hard, his lips tasting the salt on hers, her soft moan vibrating against him.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his hands roaming her wet body, cupping her ass through the bikini as she wrapped her legs around his waist, the waves bobbing them gently. She giggled, kissing him back, her fingers tangling in his hair, and they played like that for hours, him tossing her into the waves, her clinging to him as he spun her, their lips meeting again and again. Lost in their little world.

#slvbun #bimbo!reader₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #outer banks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic

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inseobts · 1 month ago

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REQUESTS ARE OPEN, WOWIE!! Id like to request a scenario with a gender neutral reader with the strawhats platonically, where for whatever reason (devil fruit or if they were born like this), the reader is a full on monster in the very literal sense. Like a Lovecraftian beast hellbent on protecting their crew.

The Crew and the Creature

strawhat crew x gn ! strawhat ! reader (platonic)

words count: 2.3k

tags: monster reader, found family, platonic bonds, protective reader, light horror, humor

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The sea is quiet. Too quiet.

Then something massive moves beneath the Thousand Sunny.

“Monster below!” Usopp screams, pointing over the railing “I saw a shadow—huge! With, like, tentacles!”

Franky rushes over “Maybe it’s a Sea King?”

“No,” Robin says calmly, her eyes scanning the water “That’s not a Sea King.”

The crew stares down. Bubbles rise. A thick, black shape coils in the deep.

Then it breaks the surface.

It is you.

You are not pretty. You are not small. You rise from the water like a nightmare pulled from the darkest part of the ocean. Your body shifts, sometimes scales, sometimes flesh, sometimes something else. You have too many eyes. Your teeth are not right. You drip seawater and silence.

And still, Luffy smiles.

“Hey!” he shouts, waving “You’re back!”

You let out a sound. It is not a word. Not exactly. But it means something like safe.

Chopper runs to you “Are you hurt?” he asks, climbing onto your arm, checking your many strange surfaces.

You gently lower him to the deck.

“I missed you,” Nami says, though she hides behind a mast “You scared away those bounty hunters back on Orange Island.”

“Yeah, and half the town,” Sanji adds, lighting a cigarette “Still... thanks.”

You do not speak like the others. Sometimes you speak in dreams. Sometimes in strange sounds. But they always understand.

Luffy laughs “You’re our monster!”

You blink all ten eyes at him.

“I mean it in a good way!” he says quickly “Right, guys?”

Usopp gulps “Y-yeah! Like, a cool, creepy bodyguard.”

“Cool,” Zoro mutters, sheathing his swords “Creepy’s right.”

But he’s smirking.

You settle on the deck, body shifting into a lower, less frightening form. You try to look less sharp. Less shadowy. More… crew.

“Still terrifying,” Brook says, his skull rattling “But I feel very safe. Thank you.”

Usopp looks over at him and says "You're the one talking about terrifying??"

Luffy sits on your back without asking “We’re heading for a new island. Lots of Marines. Lots of trouble.”

You growl low.

“Yeah,” he says “I knew you’d like that.”

You do not eat. You do not sleep like the others. But you stay. Always near. Always watching. Always protecting.

They are your crew. And no god, beast, or man will touch them while you still exist.

As the Thousand Sunny sails through the mist, thick fog clings to the deck. The sea is quiet again.

“New island ahead!” Nami calls “But something’s off…”

Robin narrows her eyes “There’s no wind.”

No waves. No gulls. Just silence.

Then it hits them.

A blast of air. Cold. Heavy. Wrong.

From the fog, a Marine warship appears, black sails, no flag. The kind used for secret missions. Assassins.

“Ambush!” Usopp shouts “They’ve got cannons aimed at us!”

The crew rushes to action.

Luffy cracks his knuckles “Let’s go.”

The Straw Hats move fast, Zoro to the bow, Franky to the cannons, Robin already summoning arms.

You rise from the lower deck.

You are not yet monstrous.

Your shape is tall. Barely human. Your skin shines wet like a deep-sea creature. Your eyes blink down your arms, across your collarbone, along your cheeks. Too many, but still familiar. You walk on two legs, but they stretch and bend wrong when needed.

“Hey,” Luffy calls out, grinning “Feel like scaring some Marines?”

You nod once “Give me a minute.”

Your voice is deep. Cold. Soft, like a wave under the hull.

You leap from the Sunny, arms snapping longer in the air, fingers clawed and sharp. You land on the enemy ship. The deck groans beneath your weight.

Marines freeze.

You stretch, spine cracking, growing taller, skin peeling back just enough to show something ancient.

They aim rifles.

You look at the captain “Don’t.”

He fires.

You disappear into smoke and shadow.

The Straw Hats watch from their deck as screams rise from the mist.

“Still terrifying” Usopp mutters.

“Effective” Robin says.

“Super effective” Franky agrees.

Within minutes, it’s over. You walk calmly back to the Sunny, not a drop of blood on you.

Chopper runs to you with a towel anyway “You okay?”

You blink “Yes.”

Sanji tosses you a can of juice “For your throat. You always sound like you swallowed gravel after a fight.”

You open the can. Sip. You do not say thank you, but you nod, which is more than usual.

Zoro stretches his arms “You went easy on them.”

You turn your many eyes toward him “They weren’t worth more.”

He smirks “Fair.”

Later that night, the fog long gone, you sit alone at the edge of the deck. You’ve shed your shape again. Tentacles hang lazily into the sea. You watch the moon.

Footsteps. Quiet ones.

Robin sits beside you. She doesn’t speak right away. Just watches the stars.

Then, softly, “Why don’t you stay in your human form more often?”

You shift, pulling yourself into it, slowly, carefully. You look almost like them again, though your eyes still glow faintly in the dark.

“Feels wrong,” you say after a long pause “Heavy. Small.”

“Unnatural?” she asks.

You look at her sideways “The monster is more me than the person.”

Robin nods “But both are you.”

You don’t reply. Not right away.

Finally, you say, “I like it better here.”

She smiles “With us?”

You nod “Yes.”

She stands “Good. Then stay.”

You watch her go. The ship rocks gently. For once, the ocean is quiet.

You stay in your human form just a little longer.

The Sunny drifts near a small island. Just trees. Rocks. Nothing dangerous. Or so they say.

“I’ll stay with the ship” you say.

No one argues.

They know you don’t like towns. You don’t fit in them. People stare. Or scream.

“We’ll bring back food!” Luffy grins “Meat for me. Saltwater things for you.”

You nod.

They leave.

You wait.

You sit still as a statue, eyes half-closed. But you’re never really asleep. You feel the ship breathe. You feel the waves talk. You feel something… else.

Something watching you.

It comes out of the forest.

A long, narrow boat. Quiet. Hidden in seaweed and shadows.

You smell them before you see them, old blood and gunpowder.

Pirates. Not smart ones.

They don’t see you until they’re close. One of them points “Thought this ship was empty—what the hell is that?”

You stand.

Limbs stretch. Flesh twists.

You don’t scream.

They do.

You don’t kill them. Not unless they try first.

They try.

So you do.

By the time the crew returns, the pirates are gone. Their boat is cracked in half, floating far from the shore.

You sit on the figurehead, dripping sea-water, arms folded, eyes open. Your "human" shape, but your mouth is wrong, wider than it should be. Smiling.

“What happened?” Nami asks.

You shrug “They were lost.”

Luffy laughs “Bet they wish they stayed that way.”

You tilt your head “You brought food?”

“Yep!” he holds up a sack.

You take it, tearing it open. Not meat. Not fish. Something else, shaped like a heart, but not a real one. Candy. Soft. Sweet.

“I saw it and thought of you” Luffy says with a grin.

You blink at him.

“You thought of me when you saw candy shaped like an organ?”

He shrugs “Yeah. You’re weird.”

You don’t laugh, but you let out a noise. A dry chuckle.

“You’re not mad?” Usopp asks, watching you carefully.

“No,” you say “I like it.”

That night, you stay in your human shape longer than usual. You sit with them around the table. You eat. You speak.

Only sometimes. Only when needed.

But when Chopper starts talking about an old wound, you listen. When Brook plays his violin, your many eyes all close.

And when the moon rises high, and the sea starts whispering again, your shape shifts slowly, carefully, into something ancient and sharp.

But your place at the table stays empty only for a moment. Sanji slides your untouched mug closer to the edge “Come back when you’re ready.” he says.

You will.

You always do.

It starts as a simple raid.

Another island. Another greedy warlord.

The Strawhats get involved because someone asked for help and Luffy doesn’t even think twice.

You follow. You always do.

The man ruling the port has a big gang too. Armed. Smart enough to use traps.

Too bad they’re not smart enough to leave your crew alone.

The fight breaks out in the old dockyard. Smoke. Fire. Screams.

You're already half-shifted, tall, monstrous, voice cracking through the air like thunder.

Zoro cuts down a wave of goons.

Robin snaps arms like dry twigs.

Sanji launches into the air, spinning, fire trailing from his heel.

Usopp covers them all from the back, sniping, covering, yelling tips no one listens to.

Then it happens.

You hear it first, a shout that turns into a scream.

“AHHH—!!”

Usopp.

Your head jerks around looking for him.

He's on the ground. A blade in his shoulder. Blood soaking his jacket. One of the gang stands over him, laughing.

“Little sniper talks too much.”

Something in you snaps.

You drop your shape like dead weight.

The air turns cold.

Even your own crewmates shudder.

You do not walk. You flow.

You grow taller. Eyes open all over your body, the kind that don’t blink, don’t weep. Tentacles rip through your arms. Your mouth opens sideways. No teeth, just depth. Your skin peels back in places, showing muscle made of shadow and ink.

The gang member barely has time to scream before he vanishes in your jaws.

Then you turn to the others.

You don’t care if they run.

You hunt.

You crash through wooden walls. Your roar knocks people to the ground. You move like water, like madness, like hunger with bones.

Luffy watches from the rooftop “They messed up.”

“Big time” Zoro agrees.

"A MONSTER!!!" the enemies start to scream at you.

And then a flash. A cannon. They had backup. One shot slams into your side.

You scream. For real this time.

The blast rips through part of your body, smoke and ichor pour out. You crash into the street, bones (or what counts as bones) twisting.

“Y/N!” Chopper yells, already running.

But you rise again.

Shaking. Bleeding. Eyes still burning.

You don’t feel pain. Not yet.

You leap.

You tear through the rest of them. You don’t stop until they’ve either run or lie broken in the dirt.

Only then do you fall.

Your limbs lose shape. Your body pulls inward. You start to collapse.

But arms catch you.

Usopp, pale and hurt, grits his teeth “I’ve got you.”

You're bigger than him. He’s shaking. But he holds on anyway.

“Stupid,” you whisper “You got stabbed.”

“You got blown up,” he says, coughing “Don’t change the subject.”

Chopper reaches you seconds later, frantic “Lie down—don’t shift again, you’re leaking—everything!”

Luffy walks up, face serious for once “You went nuts.”

You nod weakly.

“Good,” he says, grinning again “I was about to.”

Sanji lights a cigarette “That was terrifying,” he says casually “Ten out of ten.”

You close your eyes. You feel your body melting back into something half-human, half-broken. The pain is catching up now.

“You protected me” Usopp says, still holding on.

You try to say something but for once, your voice is gone.

You sleep for three days.

Not real sleep. Not dreams. Just darkness. Warmth. Weight.

Voices pass through sometimes.

“Stable,” Chopper mutters “Barely.”

“Reattaching muscle with sea-stone thread? That’s insane.” Franky says, awed.

“They’ll make it,” Zoro says “Or I’ll drag them back myself.”

You drift.

Until you wake.

It’s night. The Sunny is quiet. Your body is wrapped in cloth and bandages. Your shape is smaller, closer to human. You're too weak for the other one.

Your eyes open “Hey.”

Usopp sits next to you, one arm in a sling, face tired, but smiling.

“You’re alive. And not screaming in monster-language, so I’m calling that a win.”

You try to speak.

Only a whisper “You’re okay.”

He laughs “You nearly died. I got a scratch.”

You turn your head. The others sleep nearby, or keep quiet watch. No fear. No running. Just… waiting for you to wake up.

“Why?” you rasp “I lost control.”

“You protected me,” he says simply “You chose us.”

Your claws twitch. You remember the way your body moved, without thought. The way you devoured the man who hurt him.

“I’m not like you.”

“No,” Usopp says “You’re not.”

You tense.

He leans in “But you’re one of us.”

That doesn’t make sense.

“I lie,” he says, smiling “Nami steals. Zoro drinks. Luffy eats enough to kill ten men. You? You destroy anything that tries to take us away.”

He leans back “I think that’s fair.”

You stare at him.

Then slowly… painfully…

You smile.

It’s strange. Your teeth are still sharp. Your skin still wrong. But your smile is real.

The next day, you walk on the deck again. Still weak. Still wrapped in cloth. Still you.

Luffy cheers when he sees you.

“Y/N!” he shouts “Back from the dead!”

You nod “Barely.”

He grins wider “Good. We need you for the next fight.”

Sanji tosses you something.

A rice ball. Shaped like a heart again.

You blink.

“You’re part of this crew,” Nami says, hands on her hips “Whether you look like a horror story or not.”

Chopper adds, “But please don’t bleed out again. I can only take so much stress.”

You sit down. You eat. Slowly. Carefully.

The sun rises behind the Sunny. The wind shifts.

Robin looks at you, voice soft “Do you still think you’re just a monster?”

You think.

You look at your hands. At the crew. At the sea.

“No...” you say.

You pause.

Then “I’m your monster.”

They all grin.

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pagesfromthevoid · 2 months ago

Text

Future Fest | b. f. | 2

Bob Floyd x teacher!reader

She briefly considers that if he asked her, she’d go anywhere he wanted.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff

Author's Note: My hand slipped

Masterlist | Talk to Me! | Coffee?

Bob is sitting to the side with Phoenix, anxiously shaking his leg. He’s been checking his phone every five minutes it feels like, waiting for a text from her. They’ve been at the Hard Deck for an hour or so. He’s pretty sure the school let out at four, but he wasn’t positive. Maybe she’d forgotten; he’s kicking himself for not getting her number instead.

“I can’t believe we go to a school thing and Baby on Board here manages to snag a teacher,” Hangman complains, hitting the cue ball across the table. He stands up straight, motioning to him. “C’mon. Look at him. No offense, I mean.”

“You really gotta stop saying ‘no offense’ when you say shitty things, Bagman,” Phoenix comments, rolling her eyes.

“She’s got a point,” Bob finally offers, looking up from his phone. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, keeping them in place. But he knows he has a shit eating grin on his face. “You’re the one that went out to lunch –I just happened to have stayed back. Right time, right place.”

“Don’t get cocky on us, Bobby,” Hangman warns, pointing the pool stick at him. “She hasn’t even texted you yet, has she?”

Bob deflates some, nodding sheepishly. Then, as if the universe wanted him to have a win, his phone buzzes.

Hey! It’s your new favorite teacher :)

He grins at the text, unable to help himself. Hangman groans in the background, but Bob isn’t paying any attention to him now as he focuses on what to say. Then he decides to be honest –it only made sense.

Glad you texted me. I was starting to kick myself for not getting your number lol.

There’s a beat, and he stares at the screen and the little bubble that pops up as she’s typing.

I’m pretty sure if I didn’t text you, my kids would have found out and murdered me. They’re so nosey lol

“You gonna play, Bob, or you gonna sit there and make eyes at your phone?” Fanboy teases, coming around to throw his arm around his shoulders. “Let’s see what your new friend is saying –,”

But Bob moves out of reach, holding his phone away from his friend as he stands up. “Knock it off –I’ll shoot later. I’ll be back in a sec.”

They all holler after him as he moves his way through the crowd and out the back doors. He considers, for a moment, if he should just call her. Would that be weird? He doesn’t really like texting; there could only be so much behind the words and it’s easy to misunderstand. And truthfully, he wants to hear her voice again.

He caves, and she picks up the first ring.

“I think you must have been able to read my mind,” she says from the other end of the call, and he can just see the pretty smile on her face. “I was just thinking I wanted to hear your voice.”

He blushes, running a hand over his jaw as he grins to himself. Then he sits on one of the chairs outside the bar, kicking his feet out. “I’m glad I’m not the only one, then,” he admits with a small chuckle. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Chaotic,” she admits with a laugh of her own. And Bob swears he’s never heard anything so sweet. “Once you left, the kids lost their damn minds on me. They’re so nosey –I couldn’t get them to focus at all.”

“I got the impression they’re a bit nosey,” he agrees, leaning back in the chair. “Are they always following you around, or was today a special sort of day?”

She sighs in a wistful sort of way, and he imagines her sitting in her living room. Maybe she’s relaxed after a long day, maybe she’s winding down. “Today was a special sort of day, but I do usually have a group that eats lunch with me every day. They were especially mad that I kicked them out.”

“I’ll have to make it up to them,” he offers without a second thought, sitting up again as Rooster comes outside. The pilot gives him a questioning thumbs up and Bob returns it with a smile. “I can bring lunch for them sometime, if you’d like.”

“Lieutenant Floyd, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to earn brownie points by being so nice to my students.”

He chuckles again, shaking his head. “Is it working?”

“It is,” she admits, and he covers his mouth because he knows he’s smiling like a damn fool. Even if she’s not here to see it, he can’t help it. “Let’s have that date before we start bribing my students to like you though.”

“I can make that happen,” he concedes, leaning forward now to rest his arms on the tops of his knees. “How’s Friday sound? I can pick you at six –there’s a nice little place on the water. The sunset’s always real pretty there.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” she agrees. “I’ll text you my address. What should I wear?”

“Anything you want.”

She hums at this, and he wonders what she’s thinking. But the thought is banished when she speaks again. “Well, I’ll see you on Friday, Lieutenant Floyd. I have to finish grading these essays before then, or our date will consist of you helping me grade.”

“I can do that too,” he offers without missing a beat.

“I��really believe you would do that,” she admits with a soft laugh. “Text me, though. Seriously. I can’t chat on the phone, but I…I would like to keep talking to you.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says confidently. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

He hangs up the phone and stares at the screen with what’s probably the dopiest grin possible. Bob stays there for a little while longer, texting back and forth with her until Fanboy comes out and forces him back inside.

I want to say duty calls, but all that really means is that they need me to drive them home –have a goodnight. I’ll see you soon

There’s not a beat missed when she replies back,

I can’t wait, Lt. Floyd. Goodnight.

There’s a little blue heart at the end of the text, and Bob swears that it makes his heart lurch in his chest. He’s already a smitten fool for a girl he just met; the team is going to give him so much shit.

*****

She’s not pacing exactly, but she’s definitely not standing still as she waits for Bob.

She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous; they’ve been texting back and forth all week and she called him at least twice after the initial chat. But she is, and so she’s finding things to do so she doesn’t sit and stew in her nerves. Touching up her lipstick, switching out the jewelry she’s wearing, changing her shoes…until there’s a soft knock on the front door and she takes a quick breath in.

“I got this,” she reassures herself, slipping her sandals back on, then opening the door.

Bob is standing there with a bouquet of flowers. He’s not in his uniform today; just a light blue flannel shirt that’s rolled up to his elbows and a pair of jeans. But she can’t help but think he’s just as handsome as the first time she saw him.

She’s distracted, and he clears his throat, but there’s a sheepish smile on his face as he speaks. “I wasn’t sure what flowers you liked, so I got probably one of everything.”

“These are beautiful,” she finally manages to say, taking them in her hands. “You can come in –I’ll put these in a vase then we can go.”

He follows her to the kitchen, where she fumbles around for a moment until she finds a vase big enough. She can feel his eyes on her for a moment but when she turns around, he’s looking at the photos on the wall just outside the kitchen. She comes up behind him, pointing at one of her as a little girl, with bright pink hair, and a younger boy with a green mohawk.

“That’s my little brother and I when we went back to Seattle for the first time since moving here,” she explains with a fond smile. “We weren’t supposed to be going anywhere, so my mom let us dye our hair and cut it up for the summer. My grandma got sick though and we had to go up there to help…My mom got the nastiest looks in the airport.”

“You miss it up there?” He asks, looking down at her.

“Sometimes, but it’s too cold for me now.”

He nods in agreement as she motions for him to follow again, grabbing her purse. “I was stationed briefly up in Bremerton, at Naval Base Kitsap. It rains…a lot.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she laughs, shutting the door behind them. “Cold and wet. If it wasn’t so pretty, I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to live here.”

He opens the passenger door of his truck without hesitation, holding out his hand to help her in. She blushes at the motion, smiling to herself as she settles into the seat.

The drive isn’t long, and when they arrive, they’re seated out on the deck, right on the beach. The sun is just setting, and she thinks it’s the most magical thing she’s seen in years. Then, he pulls out her chair for her there as well. She wants to thank his mother for raising a proper gentleman, because she can’t remember the last time anyone pulled out her chair for her or helped her get into the car.

“Where are you from, Lieutenant?” She asks after the waiter takes their drink order.

“Montana,” he offers with a grin. “And you can just call me Bob.”

“Bob from Montana,” she repeats, nodding as if she suddenly understood a lot about him. “That does explain the accent –that midwestern chivalry too. Were you a cowboy before you were an officer, Bobby?”

He leans back in his seat a bit, watching her with that same grin he gave her at lunch the other day. “I did work on my family farm –can’t say I was a cowboy, though.”

“Shame, I bet you’d look cute in a cowboy hat.”

He blushes at that, and she laughs as she lifts her wine glass to her lips. “What made you wanna join the Navy? Isn’t Montana landlocked?”

He nods in confirmation, looking over at the water for a moment. “My dad, and his dad, and his dad before him –they were all military. It wasn’t even a second thought to join. But I wanted to work with planes, so the Navy had my best chance at that.”

“How often do you deploy?” She asks, and it’s a question she doesn’t really want an answer to, but she knows she needs to get it out of the way now before she’s hooked. Though, it might be too late.

“I just recently got back from deployment,” he explains, leaning his elbows on the table to look at her. His tone has shifted some, a bit more serious than before. “I’ll be here for a while, I think –they’re having our squad train a few teams of pilots on a new weapons system.”

“So that bodes well for a second date,” she offers, trying to ease any tension or concern he might have.

His smile says it all as he nods. “I think it does, yeah.”

The rest of the evening goes just as smoothly, conversation flowing easily between the two of them. They talk and eat, sharing a variety of things about themselves. She tells him about her favorite books, both personally and the ones she likes to teach. He tells her about his favorite movies and what he did before he moved to California. They don’t have a lot of things in common, but she tells him she’s interested in the things he talks about and is open to trying new things –but he has to be the one introducing them to her. He shares the sentiment, a grin on his face.

By the time the check comes, neither of them want the night to end.

“C’mon,” he suggests, taking her hand in his.

She follows without question, distracted by how large his hand is compared to hers. How calloused it is, which she knows is because of his work. There’s a brief moment where she considers how they would feel on other parts of her body, and the thought makes her flush as he pulls her down the boardwalk to the beach.

They slip off their shoes, leaving them up on the boardwalk in hopes they’re there when they get back. Feeling a little more bold, she pulls herself close to his side as they walk, other hand moving to hold onto his arm. Bob looks down at her, and even in the dark, she can see the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“I’m having a great time tonight, Bob,” she sighs when they stop, sitting down in the sand. She rests her head on his shoulder, still holding his hand, and looks out over the water. “Thank you for this.”

He squeezes her hand gently, and she can feel him looking down at her. “Thank you for saying yes. I’m not…usually one to ask a pretty girl out the moment I meet her. But I’m glad I did.”

She looks up at him, and they lock eyes for a second. A fondness is in his eyes —more than just a passing date or two, but actual care —and she smiles. There’s a charge between them; a tension that they both know all too well. It’s just up to them now to decide who's going to give into it first.

“I’d like to kiss you,” he admits, and she can’t help but let out a laugh. Because of course he’d ask; he’s too sweet not to.

“I’d like it if you did too,” she promises.

And that’s all it takes for Bob to lean in and close the gap between them. He’s soft, but a bit urgent, like he’s afraid if he stops, he’ll never get to kiss her again. But when she reaches up and touches his cheek, deepening the kiss, he slows down just enough to let her enjoy the feeling of his mouth on hers.

He tastes sweet —and a little salty, though that could be the ocean sticking to their skin. His hands find her waist, and he’s pushing her back into the sand. Her tongue traces along his bottom lip, a silent question of more. And he accepts, half on top of her, as she tangles her tongue with his.

She thinks she’s definitely hooked now. There’s no way she’s not; his weight against her, his hands on her hips. He tastes like honeysuckle and vanilla, and she briefly considers that if he asked her, she’d go anywhere he wanted.

When they finally pull apart —half because they need to breath and half because neither of them want to push this any further in the sand —he rests his forehead against hers. That boyish grin is plastered on his face, and her lips are swollen from kissing. They’re staring at each other like they think they both hold the stars in their eyes.

“Can we skip to the part where you ask me to be your girlfriend?” She asks, voice soft as they sit up slowly.

“After one date?” He points out, but not because he doesn’t want to. But because he’s surprised she does. “I…yeah. Absolutely.” She stares at him expectantly, grinning at him until he catches on. Then he nods quickly, fixing his glasses like it’s a nervous habit. “Sorry, yeah —I’d…I’d kill for you to be my girl, if you’d want that?”

“I do like the sound of being called your girl,” she admits, leaning over to kiss his cheek gently. “I definitely want that, Bobby.”

He nods again, unable to help the smile that’s spreading across his face. Then he’s kissing her again, like his life depends on it. But she’s laughing into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“My girl,” he whispers against her lips when he pulls away.

“Your girl.”

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reder #robert floyd #top gun maverick #top gun #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman

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