#jerry Lewis x reader

[ringa-starr]

The Joys of Parenthood Jerry Lewis x Fem!reader

Just a short little one shot I wrote for fun. I tend to write things like this in between work tasks but this is one I've actually finished. Also, when you see Y/N/N in the fic, it means "Your nickname". I'm not sure if you write something else for that but please let me know and I hope you enjoy! I'm sorry if the title or anything else sucks lol

-Dee

Words: 2.1K

The moon cast a soft, silvery glow through the partially drawn curtains of the nursery, the only light to pierce the darkness. Y/N's eyes were heavy with exhaustion, her body begging for rest that had eluded her since the arrival of their little bundle of joy. She rocked the creaky wooden chair, her arm muscles aching with the rhythm that had become so familiar over the past few weeks. The crib's mobile danced in the breeze, a delicate ballet of plastic shapes and nursery rhymes tinkling faintly in the stillness.

Her husband, Jerry, had left a note on the bedside table before he'd rushed off to work. "Good luck, darling," it read, with a doodle of a sleeping baby and a smiling sun. She couldn't help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. The quietude of the night was broken only by the occasional distant sound of a car passing by on the empty street outside. Y/N knew the film set would be buzzing with activity, a stark contrast to the quiet she now embraced.

The baby, a tiny scrap of humanity wrapped in soft, blue blankets, had inherited Jerry's shock of curly hair and Y/N's button nose. Despite his restlessness, he was a beautiful sight to behold. She whispered a gentle lullaby, the words soothing both of them. The melody filled the room, wrapping around them like a warm embrace. Y/N had always loved singing; it had been her escape from the troubles of the world, and now it served as a bridge between her and this new life.

As she sang, her thoughts drifted to Jerry, his tireless dedication to his craft, and the late nights he spent bringing laughter to the silver screen. She knew that his heart was with her and the baby, even though his physical presence was required elsewhere. A twinge of resentment tugged at her, but she quickly dismissed it. This was their life, a dance of love and ambition, a delicate balance that had to be maintained.

The baby's wails grew louder, his tiny fists balled in protest. Y/N tried various methods to soothe him – a gentle rub on his back, a softly sung lullaby, even a warm bottle – but nothing seemed to work. His cries grew more insistent, echoing through the house like a siren in the night. She felt the panic rising, a crescendo of doubt in her ability to be a good mother. What if she couldn't calm him down? What if he was sick? Her mind raced with worst-case scenarios.

Her grip tightened on the chair's armrests as she bounced the baby in her arms, her breath coming in short gasps. The mobile above the crib seemed to mock her with its cheerful tunes. She looked around the room, desperation painting her features. The shelves lined with books and knick-knacks remained stoically silent, offering no help. The rocking chair, once a symbol of comfort, had become a battleground. Y/N's heart ached in time with her son's cries. She felt so alone, even though she knew Jerry would be home soon.

The walls of the nursery, once a canvas of hope and excitement, now felt like they were closing in on her. The air was thick with the scent of baby powder and desperation. She paced the floor, her bare feet whispering against the cool, hardwood boards. The baby's face was red with the effort of his cries, his eyes squeezed shut in distress. Y/N's voice grew hoarse from the lullabies she sang, each note a prayer for peace.

Stopping for a moment, she took a deep breath, inhaling the faint scent of her husband's cologne lingering on the pillow. She closed her eyes, focusing on the warmth of her son's body against hers. The world outside the nursery faded away, leaving only the two of them in the symphony of the night. Her breathing slowed, and she let the quietude of the room seep into her bones, bringing a semblance of calm to her frayed nerves.

The baby's cries grew more desperate, but Y/N's resolve strengthened with each breath she took. She whispered reassurances into his ear, her voice a gentle lull in the storm of his distress. The curtains fluttered slightly, and a cool breeze brushed against her cheek, carrying with it the distant sound of a nightingale's song. The melody seemed to reach the baby, and his cries softened, his body relaxing in her embrace.

Y/N took this moment of reprieve to look out the window, the moonlight bathing the street below in a serene glow. The world outside was a canvas of shadows and silvers, a stark contrast to the chaotic scene within. A streetlamp flickered, casting a rhythmic pattern on the pavement. The sight was oddly mesmerizing, and she felt a strange kinship with the solitary light, standing sentinel over the sleeping neighborhood.

Her gaze returned to the baby, his eyes still shut tight, but the sobs had subsided to hiccups. She gently placed him back in the crib, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. His fists unclenched, and she took one of his tiny hands in hers, feeling the softness of his skin, the delicate bones beneath. Her heart swelled with love and fear in equal measure. She knew she was his world now, his anchor in the tumultuous sea of life.

Y/N leaned over him, her palm hovering above his forehead, feeling for any sign of fever. The coolness of his skin was a relief, a small victory in the ongoing battle against the night. She let out a sigh, her shoulders dropping with the weight of the tension that had built up inside her. He was fine, just fussy and missing his father's comfort, she surmised. The thought brought a warm smile to her lips, and she leaned down to kiss him softly.

Her eyes searched the shadows of the room, landing on the crib's mobile once more. With a sudden determination, she reached for it and gave it a gentle push. The plastic shapes began to twirl and turn, casting kaleidoscopic patterns of light across the ceiling. The tinkling music grew louder, filling the room with a sense of whimsy. The baby's eyes fluttered open, taking in the mesmerizing sight. His breath hitched, and the cries faded away to quiet, curious coos.

Y/N watched him, her own eyes wide with amazement. The mobile had been a gift from Jerry's co-star, Dean Martin, a playful reminder of their shared history. The colors danced and spun, a silent promise that even in the darkest moments, there would be joy and wonder. She felt a warmth spread through her chest, a warmth that had been missing amidst the fatigue and stress.

The baby's eyes remained transfixed on the moving shapes, and Y/N took the opportunity to slip into bed, her body begging for the reprieve. She lay there, watching him, her heart swelling with love and a newfound sense of peace. The mattress was cold without Jerry beside her, but she took comfort in the fact that he was working hard to provide for their growing family.

Her thoughts drifted to their early days, the whirlwind romance that had led to this moment. The glitz and glamour of Hollywood had been a backdrop to their love story, but the reality of parenthood was proving to be a different kind of stage. One that didn't come with a script or a director yelling "Cut!" when things got tough. But she knew she could handle it; she had to.

The mobile's music grew fainter, the plastic shapes spinning slower as the wind outside died down. The baby's eyes grew heavier, his grip on her finger loosening. The quietude of the room was once again pierced, this time by the soft snores of a sleeping newborn. Y/N let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension in her body uncoil like a spring. She gently extricated her hand and slid it under the covers, the coldness of the sheets a stark contrast to the baby's warmth.

Her eyes remained on the sleeping form in the crib, the soft rise and fall of his chest reassuring her. She knew that tonight was only the beginning of many such battles, but she also knew that she wasn't alone. The house was filled with memories of Jerry, his laughter echoing in the hallways, his gentle touch on her skin. She missed him fiercely, but the love that had brought this child into the world was a powerful force, one that could bridge the gap of even the longest of nights.

With a soft click, she turned on the bedside lamp, the warm glow casting a gentle light over the room. From the drawer, she pulled out a notebook and a pen. In the quietude, she began to scribble down thoughts, fears, and moments of joy that had filled her heart since becoming a mother. The words spilled onto the pages, a cathartic release of all the emotions that had been bottled up inside her. Writing had always been her sanctuary, a place to unravel the complex tapestry of her thoughts.

As she wrote, the sound of a key turning in the lock startled her. The door creaked open, and the silhouette of Jerry appeared in the threshold. His tie was loosened, his jacket slung over his shoulder, and his eyes were tired but filled with love as they searched for her in the dim light. He saw her sitting up in bed, the baby sleeping soundly, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"How's our little star?" he whispered, crossing the room and planting a kiss on her forehead. Y/N's eyes closed for a brief moment, savoring the feeling of his warmth beside her. She handed him the notebook, filled with the raw, unfiltered thoughts of her first weeks of motherhood. He took it, his eyes scanning the pages, and she watched as the tension in his shoulders melted away.

Jerry sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze flickering between her and the sleeping baby. He chuckled softly at the sight of their son, finally at peace. "You're doing great, Y/N/N," he murmured, placing a reassuring hand on her knee. "Better than I could ever do."

Y/N felt the warmth of his words seep into her, dispelling the last vestiges of doubt. "Thanks, Jerry," she said, her voice a whisper. "I just want to be enough for him."

Jerry set the notebook aside, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that made her heart flutter. "You're more than enough," he said firmly. "You're his mother, and that's all he needs."

He stood up, his movements careful not to disturb the baby, and began to undress. The room felt smaller with him in it, the air charged with the electricity of his presence. Y/N watched as he slipped into bed, his body curling around hers, and she felt the warmth of his embrace, the comfort that only he could provide. She nestled into his chest, her head on his shoulder, and for the first time in hours, she allowed herself to relax.

"You know," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the baby's gentle snores, "I never knew love could feel so overwhelming."

Jerry's arms tightened around her, his breath warm against her neck. "It's a different kind of love, isn't it?" he said, his voice low and thoughtful. "It's like someone took all the love we have for each other and multiplied it a hundredfold."

Y/N nodded, her eyes closing as she absorbed his words. "I just want to do right by him," she murmured. "To give him everything he needs."

"You will," Jerry assured her, his voice steady and sure. "You already are. And we're in this together, remember?" He kissed the top of her head, and she felt the tension in her body ease a fraction more. They lay there, the only sound in the room the baby's gentle breathing and the distant hum of the city that never slept.

Jerry's hand found hers under the covers, and she laced their fingers together. His thumb traced gentle circles against her palm, a silent promise of support. They lay there in companionable silence, basking in the warmth of their love and the quiet strength that came with it.

Y/N took a deep breath, letting the quiet fill her lungs and soothe her nerves. This was their life now, a tapestry of late nights, early mornings, and unbridled love. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but she also knew that she wouldn't trade it for anything. With Jerry beside her, she felt invincible. Together, they could tackle any challenge that parenthood threw at them.

THE END

[technicolor-times]

The wonder of you

Jerry Lewis x reader

—————————————————————

Request: I have lots of ideas for Jerry x reader fics! Could I please make a request where the reader and Jerry have their first child? :D @ringa-starr

——————————

“Hello princess”

Jerry’s voice floated softly through the room as the door gently swung open and he stepped in. He smiled at you sweetly making his way to you in a hurry. In his hands he held a box of chocolates and a dozen of your favorite flowers. You returned the smile and opened your arms when he leaned down to hug you. His embrace was warm and gentle and the warm spicy scent of his cologne greeted you like an old friend.

“How are you darling? Did they torture you, my girl?”

He cooed , settling in the wooden chair placed next to your hospital bed. He set the chocolates and flowers on the table. He ran his hand gently through your hair , pushing it out of your face. It had clung there from the sweat that had dripped down your forehead during the rigors of childbirth.

You chuckled , letting your head rest on his arm as you sighed contentedly. You were so happy he was here with you , he brought you so much joy and solace it was a miracle you could be away from him for even a second. Jerry is the absolute love of your life.

“Oh it wasn’t so bad… I’m glad it’s over”

You replied softly , your eyelids dropped low with exhaustion.

“It’s a girl , did they tell you?”

You asked turning your gaze up to him. His beautiful green eyes sparkled back at you with such love and respect.

“Yeah baby they told me, just what we wanted .. finally a little baby girl”

His smile broke across his face triumphantly. He had a beautiful smile , he always said he hated it but you loved it more than anything in the world.

“You gave me a baby girl , I’m so proud of you princess..”

He added as he stroked your cheek softly with his thumb , he caressed you so gently as though you were delicate porcelain and he was afraid to shatter you.

“Did you see her yet?”

You questioned , letting your eyes fall closed as Jerry soothed you in to a deep relaxation with his gentle touches and dulcet voice.

“Yeah I did , she’s getting cleaned up now. she’s so beautiful (y/n) , just like her mama”

He kissed your cheek and nuzzled his face in to your neck.

“You’re the strongest, most wonderful woman in the world you know that don’t you?”

He asked rhetorically , his eyes roamed your face checking for signs of discomfort.

“Lots of women have babies darling”

You reply with a small chuckle patting his chest , letting your fingers roam over his silk tie.

“Yeah but not all of them have my babies … just you, precious girl”

He answered right away, kissing you softly on the lips this time. It was slow , it was gentle , it was warm and eroded any thought of pain you were in.

When he pulled away he looked at you holding your face in his hands.

“A baby Girl”

He whispered, tears glinted in his waterline of his eyes and you smiled at how vulnerable and tender this man could be . Most people looked at jerry and saw a clown , a comedian. You looked at jerry and saw a beautiful ,compassionate , feeling soul who would do anything for the people he loved and you felt so so so lucky that you were one of those people.

“Is there anything I can do for you love? Are you hungry?”

He questioned , his thick brows furrowing with concern.

You shook your head lightly

“Oh no thank you, I just need some sleep”

You replied with a heavy sigh.

Jerry stood , fixing the blanket over your body just so. He fluffed your pillow and slid onto the hospital bed next to you before putting his arm behind your head pulling you into his broad chest and wrapping his other arm around your waist.

“You go to sleep princess, don’t worry about anything , I’m here and I’m going to make sure these people get you everything you need”

He assured adjusting himself to make sure you were comfortable. Your head lulled and dropped on his chest. You felt safe , warm and loved. You laid with Jerry on the brink of sleep , his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. His fingers drawing soft circles on your waist as he holds you. The pitter patter of rain danced on the windows. you smiled to yourself, nuzzled into jerry, you closed your eyes enjoying the last few moments of quiet you have before you take your new baby home.

Everything will be fine , as long as jerry is by your side everything will always be wonderful.

————————————-

AN: I hope you all enjoy this short little one shot! If you have a request for something you’d like me to write please put your request in my ask box , thanks for reading!

[pucksandpower]

Playing Cupid

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: convinced that you and Max must be the most oblivious people on earth, the rest of the grid decide to take matters into their own hands

“Hey, I bet I can beat you to the debrief room!” Max’s voice carries through the paddock, his familiar smile in place.

You roll your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips. “You always say that and yet here we are.”

He chuckles, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face, “Optimism, it’s just part of my charm.”

“You mean your delusion?” You tease, nudging him with your elbow.

There’s a pause as you both make your way, the chatter of crew members a steady background hum as Max’s laughter and your shared jokes create a bubble around the two of you.

“You two are like the dynamic duo of Red Bull,” Daniel pipes up from where he’s leaning against the wall with his signature grin stretching across his face. “Batman and Robin vibes.”

You glance at Max, raising an eyebrow. “Batman and Robin? More like Tom and Jerry.”

Max snorts. “Which one am I?”

“Definitely Tom. Always chasing but never quite catching up.” You stick out your tongue playfully.

Daniel shakes his head with a laugh, “The chemistry though! It’s electric. The entire grid sees it.”

You look puzzled, glancing at Max whose face mirrors your own. “What are you on about, Danny?”

Before he can reply, Max’s race engineer joins in, “He’s not wrong. It’s like watching two magnets circle each other, not knowing they’re meant to connect.”

Max shrugs, looking slightly embarrassed at GP’s observation, “We’re just good friends. Teammates. That’s all.”

You nod in agreement. “Exactly! Just because we joke around doesn’t mean—”

“—there’s anything more,” Max finishes for you, the two of you so in sync it makes GP and Daniel exchange amused glances.

“Whatever you say,” GP chuckles.

The day wears on, filled with the usual press conferences, race strategies, and banter. But now, there’s an underlying hum, a question that seems to have spread among the drivers and teams: what if?

In the evening, as you’re about to make your way back to the hotel, Lewis sidles up to you. “You and Max, huh? That’s something. The fans will love it.”

You blink in surprise. “We’re just teammates. That’s all.”

He winks. “For now.”

You just laugh it off, not sure how to respond.

Later that night, you and Max find yourselves in a private corner of your hotel restaurant, both tired but satisfied. “Did Lewis say something weird to you too?” Max asks, sipping his drink.

You nod. “About us. I mean, we’re close, but all this talk ... it’s a bit strange, right?”

He sighs, “Yeah. Just because two people get along doesn’t mean they’re ... you know, together together.”

You chuckle. “Exactly. We’re friends. Best friends. That’s all.”

***

“Truth or dare!” The booming voice with an enthusiastic Australian accent echoes across the lounge where a few of the drivers have gathered post-qualifying, hoping to unwind.

Max groans from beside you. “Do we have to? Every time it ends up embarrassing at least one of us.”

You nudge him, laughing. “Oh, come on. Scared of a little dare, Verstappen?”

Daniel’s eyes gleam with mischief. “Exactly. What are you so afraid of, Maxie? Maybe revealing a certain ... secret?”

Lando, lounging on a sofa, chips in, “Or maybe singing a serenade for a certain someone?”

Max’s cheeks turn a shade redder while you feel your own face heat up. “I think Danny and Lando are in cahoots,” you whisper to Max, who chuckles in agreement.

“Alright, alright,” Max concedes, “Truth or dare. Bring it on.”

Daniel’s smile widens even further, a clear sign that he’s up to no good. “Okay, Max. Truth or dare?”

Max hesitates for a split second. “Dare.”

Daniel rubs his hands together with a surprisingly convincing evil smirk. “I dare you to serenade ...” He deliberately drags out the suspense, glancing around the room before pointing directly at you, “... your lovely teammate here.”

The room erupts into laughter and teasing. “Oh, this is going to be good!”

Max looks at you apologetically but there’s a playful glint in his eye. “Alright, alright. What song?”

You shake your head, already giggling in anticipation of what is to come. “Surprise me.”

Gathering courage, Max stands up, clearing his throat dramatically. He looks right into your eyes, a playful glint in his, and starts singing “I Want It That Way” … mostly.

“Tell me why … I keep crashing into walls. Tell me why … I can’t seem to win them all. Tell me why … I never want to hear you say, box box box box box.”

You laugh so hard that tears stream down your face. The room is filled with laughter, claps, and a few playful boos (mostly from Charles who seem partially traumatized by the mention of boxing).

“That’s officially the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your words.

Max takes a bow, still red-faced. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

As the night winds down and the group starts to disperse, Daniel sidles up to you. “Soooooo …. did the serenade work?”

You laugh, “It was entertaining, to say the least. But Max and I ...” You trail off, not sure how to put your relationship into words.

“It’s alright,” Daniel nods understandingly and for a moment you actually think he might stop scheming to get the two of you together. But then he winks, “Sometimes the best things take time.”

***

“Formula 1 is as much about connections off the track as it is on,” Lewis begins, his voice smooth, measured, a practiced art in front of the cameras during the press conference. Flashbulbs click and reporters scribble notes. “Sometimes those connections are ... more than what meets the eye. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You raise an eyebrow. Next to you, Max shuffles slightly awkwardly.

Before you can answer, Lewis continues, eyes glinting with mischief, “For instance, teams with two drivers who might be ... more than just teammates?” His gaze flits subtly between you and Max, a tiny smirk playing on his lips.

Max laughs it off. “Talking about you and George? Or was it back with Nico?”

A ripple of laughter flows through the conference room and you bite back a smile, appreciating Max’s deflection.

Lewis grins, completely unfazed. “Good one. But no, I’ve heard some rumors about another team ... one that rhymes with Bed Rull, perhaps?”

Now you feel the need to intervene, “Rumors are just that, Lewis. Rumors. Max and I are teammates, good friends. Nothing more.” You keep your voice light but firm.

“But isn’t it interesting,” Lewis ponders aloud, “how two people can spend so much time together, share so many experiences, practically think with the same brain, and still not notice a ... deeper connection?”

Max’s eyes meet yours briefly, a momentary search for an answer, a reaction perhaps. But as quick as the look is, it’s gone.

After finishing up with media, Charles shoots a dimpled smile your way. “Quite the interview by Lewis, huh? He’s not usually one for gossip.”

You laugh. “Trying to stir the pot, I guess. Maybe he’s bored? Everyone loves a good love story.”

Charles nods, his gaze a bit more serious. “But sometimes … sometimes rumors are built on a foundation of truth. Even if you don’t see it.”

You mull over his words but before you can respond, Max joins the conversation. “Is everyone becoming a relationship expert these days or something?”

Charles just shrugs with an impish grin. “Maybe we all just want to see our friends happy.”

The comment gives you pause. Is that all this is? Friendly teasing? Or is there something more you’re missing? Something right in front of you that you’re not seeing?

But for now, as you and Max head back towards the Red Bull motorhome, you push those thoughts aside, determined to focus on the upcoming race and the challenge it presents.

***

“Fancy seeing you here!” Your team principal greets you, his tone feigning surprise as you walk into the upscale restaurant.

Max squints at him suspiciously. “You invited us both here, Christian.”

“Yes, a lovely team dinner. Just the three of us,” Christian confirms with an overly innocent smile as he guides you both to a table by the window.

The setting is intimate, with soft lighting and plush seating. A live harpist is serenading diners. It’s definitely not your typical “team dinner.”

“Christian,” you muse aloud, “this place looks a tad extravagant for a casual dinner, does it not?”

He shrugs, a smile still in place. “Consider it a treat for the team’s recent successes.”

Before you can continue your line of questioning, a waiter approaches to take your orders. You and Max share a conspiratorial glance.

“I’ll have the lobster bisque to start. With extra lobster,” Max begins, deciding to indulge.

“I’ll take the osetra caviar. You can bring the entire tin. With extra blini,” you add, grinning as you see Christian’s eyes widen.

Christian clears his throat. “Well, I actually just remembered an urgent call I have to take. Enjoy the meal, you two.” And with that, he hurries away, leaving you both chuckling.

Max leans in with a whisper, “Do you think he’s up to something?”

“Absolutely. Let’s make him pay ... literally. He did say it’s on him.”

Safe to say that you both enjoy the finest dishes the restaurant has to offer. “At this rate,” you joke as the waiter opens your second bottle of ridiculously expensive wine, “Red Bull is going to break the budget cap because of catering. Again.”

Throughout the meal, you and Max discuss the recent upgrades to your cars, dissecting each detail with genuine interest and passion. The conversation flows easily but is entirely centered on racing.

Unbeknownst to you both, scattered around the restaurant are various team members and drivers in disguises, watching your every move. From Daniel donning a fake mustache as he pretends to be a waiter to Yuki wearing a chef’s hat peeking out of the kitchen, they’re all there and all invested in the outcome of the evening.

From his spot behind the bar, Lando, sporting a terrible wig, groans. “They’re just talking about tire degradation! This is so frustrating.”

Charles, disguised as a saxophonist with a carefully trimmed goatee, chimes in, “I thought this would be it. This setting is perfect.”

Back at your table, you raise your glass. “To another successful season and having amazing teammates.”

Max clinks his glass against yours, laughing. “Cheers to that!”

As you leave, completely oblivious to your undercover audience, the collective sigh of exasperation from the team members is almost audible even over the live music.

***

“What’s this?” You lift the elegantly wrapped package from your locker, examining the tag which reads: From Fernando - Enjoy the relaxation.

Max, peering over your shoulder, also pulls out a similar package from his locker. “Looks like we both got gifts.”

Ripping open the delicate paper, you pull out a luxurious pamphlet. The cover boasts a serene image of a spa, complete with candle-lit rooms and peaceful landscapes. Max’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s got the same one.

“A couples spa retreat?” Max reads aloud, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Really?”

Fernando, passing by at that exact moment, grins cheekily. “Thought you two could use some relaxation and a day off the track.”

“Very thoughtful of you,” you reply, peering up at him skeptically, “But why a couples retreat?”

Fernando shrugs, the picture of innocence. “It had the best reviews. Just trying to be a good friend.”

Max laughs, rolling his eyes. “Well, thanks for the ... thoughtful gift. Might as well use it.”

And so, you find yourself at the spa, wrapped in plush robes as the gentle hum of soft music and flowing water fills the air.

Max, his feet soaking in a warm tub and a clay mask setting on his face, looks over at you. “You think this was another one of their schemes to get us together?”

You laugh, dipping your toes into the fragrant water. “At this point, nothing would surprise me.”

The day goes on with various treatments — massages, scrubs, and mud baths. But instead of talking about personal lives or diving deep into emotions, you both end up discussing the possible benefits of the treatments.

“You know,” Max muses as he receives a deep tissue massage, “this technique might help with muscle fatigue after long races.”

You, getting a foot massage, nod in agreement. “Absolutely. And the mud bath we took earlier? Might help with detoxifying after particularly sweaty race weekends.”

The spa therapists, used to couples sharing intimate moments, are clearly bemused by your discussions.

Later, as you both relax in the sauna, Fernando sneaks a peek through a small window, hoping to catch a romantic moment. But to his chagrin, he finds you both animatedly discussing the aerodynamics of your cars.

“Did you notice the slight drag on the left during the last turn?” You ask, wiping away sweat.

Max nods. “I’ve been meaning to bring that up. We need to discuss that with the team.”

Fernando sighs, leaning against the wall outside the sauna. “They’re hopeless,” he mutters to himself.

He approaches you both later, looking slightly defeated. “So, the spa day? Did it perhaps help ... bring you two closer?”

You smile, patting him on the shoulder. “It was amazing for our driving techniques. Thanks, Fernando.”

Max nods in agreement, “Best spa day ever. We’re thinking of making it a regular thing.”

Fernando groans, realizing that his plan, like all the others, has somehow backfired. “I give up. You two are impossible.”

***

“Beach volleyball? Seriously?” Max raises an eyebrow, looking at the makeshift court that Lando and George have set up on the sand.

George grins, passing a volleyball between his hands. “Thought it’d be a fun way to unwind. And we’ve set the teams so it’s fair and ... interesting.”

Lando winks. “You and Y/N are paired up, of course. We thought you two could use some quality time together.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smirk that forms on your lips. “Let me guess, another one of your schemes to play matchmaker?”

Lando feigns shock. “Us? We would never.”

You laugh, pulling Max towards your side of the makeshift court. “Alright then, let’s do this. Prepare to be schooled, boys.”

What was meant to be a friendly match quickly turns intense. Max and you make a formidable team. The chemistry on the track seamlessly transitions to the sand, both of you equally competitive and always anticipating the other’s next moves.

“I didn’t know you two were this good!” George pants, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

You wink at him, taking your position. “There’s a lot you don’t know about us.”

Neither you nor Max are willing to give an inch. Diving saves, powerful spikes, and clever feints — you both are in it to win it.

Lando, gasping and covered in sand, mutters to George, “This was supposed to be fun. Not an Olympic match.”

The final point arrives, with you and Max at an advantage. Lando, attempting a weak serve, sends the ball perfectly to you. With a powerful run-up, you spike the ball back directly towards him. It’s fast, precise, and ... it ends up hitting Lando square in his balls.

He collapses on the hot sand, groaning. The surrounding crowd winces empathetically but you and Max? You both burst into uncontrollable laughter, falling to your knees for an entirely different reason.

“Lando!” George rushes to his side, a mix of concern and amusement on his face.

Still on the ground, Lando whines, “There go my chances of ever having kids.”

Max, between fits of laughter, manages to say, “Sorry, mate. But that was ... epic.”

You nod in agreement, offering Lando a hand. “Next time, be prepared if you’re going to challenge us. We don’t do things by halves.”

Lando takes your hand to pull himself up. “Noted. No more volleyball with you two.”

***

“Whoa,” Max blinks, staring at his phone screen. “Did you just text me?”

You frown, looking up from your own phone. “No, why?”

He shows you the screen where a message pops up, supposedly from you:

I’ve been meaning to tell you

I think I have feelings for you

Your eyes widen in shock. “I definitely didn’t send that. Wait …” You check your phone, finding a similar message supposedly from Max:

Ever since we became teammates, I’ve felt something more

Do you feel the same?

Confused, you show Max the message. The two of you exchange bewildered glances. “What is happening?” He asks, genuinely perplexed.

You shake your head. “Someone must think it’s funny to play a game with us.”

From a distance, behind the pit wall, Pierre Gasly is trying hard to suppress his laughter, watching the two of you. He nudges Charles who is next to him. “Do you think they bought it?”

Charles grins, “Knowing those two, they will probably figure it out. But it was worth the shot.”

Back at your spot, Max raises an eyebrow, “Did you by any chance get a new number recently?”

You nod. “Yeah, last week. Remember I gave it to you when we flew in? But only the team and our friends have it. Who would pull such a prank?”

Max smirks, “I have a few suspects in mind.”

You both decide to play along, typing away furiously. Max’s smirk grows wider with every passing second. “Let’s see how much our prankster likes the cards being reversed.”

Minutes later, Pierre’s phone buzzes. It’s a message from Max:

I’m so relieved you feel the same

How about dinner tonight?

Somewhere private?

Pierre’s eyes widen in surprise. He quickly checks your supposed response:

Of course I do!

Can’t believe we waited this long to admit our feelings

See you tonight? Let’s meet in the lobby for drinks and maybe dessert if you’re lucky ❤️

Pierre gulps, shooting a panicked look at Charles. “I think I’ve made a huge mistake.”

Charles snickers. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

Later in the day, Pierre approaches with guilt basically stamped across his forehead. “Look, about the texts you got …”

You grin. “Figured it out, did you?”

Max chuckles, clapping Pierre on the back. “Nice try but despite what you may think, we’re not complete idiots. ”

Pierre sighs in relief. “Honestly, I thought I might have ignited something real for a moment there.”

You laugh, “I would hope any grand confession of love I receive happens through something other than sneaky texts.”

Pierre nods, smiling sheepishly. “Fair enough. But hey, if you ever do decide to go for a romantic dinner, let me know. It’s on me.”

Max grins, “Deal.”

***

The paddock is transformed. A massive screen is set up, loungers and bean bags are spread around, and fairy lights dangle from above as a large screen and projector take center stage.

“Rom-coms?” Max squints at the list Charles is holding, a collection of the cheesiest, most cliche romantic movies available.

Charles grins, unashamed. “Best way to set the mood, right?”

You laugh, “Still trying to make Lestappen happen?”

Charles blushes. “That was one time! Besides, I have moved on to more ... realistic goals.”

Lando pops up from behind a popcorn stand, “Like getting you two to finally see what’s right in front of you.”

You roll your eyes, playfully pelting a handful of popcorn at his head. “Enough with the matchmaking.”

The movie starts and it’s clear that every spot has been strategically taken, leaving just one chair available. Daniel points to your teammate with a deceivingly innocent expression, “Why don’t you sit on Max’s lap? Save space.”

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “Or you could give up your seat and come sit on my lap yourself.”

The surrounding drivers erupt in laughter as Daniel smiles widely, conceding the point. You both end up squeezing into the chair somehow.

As the movie plays, instead of getting swept up in the romance, you both start dissecting it.

“Why would she run in the rain after him? That’s just asking for pneumonia,” Max comments as the heroine dashes through a downpour.

You nod in agreement, “And those heels? Totally impractical. She should have changed into boots.”

Charles groans, burying his face in his hands. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

George pats his hair sympathetically, “You tried. That’s what matters.”

As the movie reaches its climax with a grand chase through the airport, you muse, “You know, airports have strict security. How did he even get to the gate without a boarding pass?”

Max nods, “And the plane? Totally off. They used the wrong model. That one can’t fly long-haul.”

Charles jumps up in exasperation. “That’s it! No more movies. You two are ridiculous.”

You grin, throwing an arm around Max. “Oh, come on. Admit it … you love us.”

Max chuckles, “Thanks for the movie night. Learned a lot about airport logistics and practical footwear.”

Charles sighs but a smile tugs at his lips. “We’re really not being paid enough for this.”

***

“Team-building exercise?” Max echoes. Both of you are seated in Christian’s office, a mysterious smile playing on the team principal’s lips.

Christian nods, gesturing to the woman beside him. “This is Dr. Amelia Foster, a top relationship expert.”

You exchange a hesitant glance with Max. “Relationship expert? But we’re not a couple.”

Dr. Foster chuckles, adjusting her glasses. “I’m not here for romantic purposes. I help partners of all kinds communicate better. Even teammates.”

Max leans forward. “So, what’s the plan?”

Christian clears his throat. “A simple session. See if there’s any room for improvement in your communication. I mean, you two are already a great team. Imagine if you were even better?”

Dr. Foster nods, opening her notebook. “Let’s start with a basic exercise. Max, describe how you feel when Y/N makes a risky move.”

Max thinks for a moment. “Concerned, I guess. I trust her skills but I also worry about her safety.”

You smile, touched. “And I feel proud when Max nails a difficult maneuver. He has an instinct during races that is unmatched.”

The session continues, delving into how you view each other’s strengths, weaknesses, and driving styles. As the conversation flows, Dr. Foster introduces various communication techniques.

“Now, let’s practice active listening,” she suggests. “Y/N, tell Max something, and Max, you’ll repeat it back in your own words.”

You nod. “Alright. Sometimes, when we’re racing side by side, I wish you would give me a tiny bit more space.”

Max considers then responds, “You’d like me to be a bit more cautious and ensure you have enough room during close races.”

Dr. Foster claps her hands. “Excellent! See? It’s about mutually understanding and validating each other’s perspectives.”

By the end of the session, both of you are genuinely engrossed in the exercises, seeing the potential benefits for your on-track dynamic.

As you both leave, Max turns to you, excitement in his eyes. “That technique where we visualize the other’s perspective? That could be a game-changer during races!”

You nod in agreement. “Absolutely! And the active listening can help during debriefs. Ensure we’re always on the same page.”

Christian, waiting outside, is initially hopeful upon seeing your animated discussion. “So, did the two of you ... connect?”

Max grins, “Oh, we did! I think our communication on the track is going to be better than ever.”

Christian sighs, realizing his matchmaking attempt has gone astray once again. “Not quite what I had in mind but I’ll take it for now.”

***

“I swear, rain at a race weekend is the universe’s way of telling us to slow down,” you quip, leaning back in your chair as the rain pours outside.

Max chuckles from his seat next to you. “Or it’s just weather. But I prefer your explanation.”

The sound of the rain has already lulled a group of mechanics to sleep. There’s an unexpected calm with the usual bustle of the race on hold.

You pull out your phone, browsing your music. “Let’s trade favorite songs. Bet I can surprise you with my taste.”

Max opens his own music app. “Challenge accepted.”

You play an indie track that has become your recent favorite. Max listens thoughtfully, “Never pegged you for an indie fan.”

You shrug, “Life’s full of surprises. Your turn.”

He selects a familiar classic rock track that makes you grin. “Bohemian Rhapsody? Really?”

He smirks, “Told you, surprises.”

“I’m mostly just surprised it’s not 33 Max Verstappen,” you tease.

As the afternoon stretches on, the music transitions to shared stories. You talk about your childhood, the early days of karting, the struggles, and triumphs. He shares his own tales, moments that shaped him, the highs and lows of his journey.

“Remember our first race as teammates?” He asks, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You laugh, “How could I forget? You almost ran me off the track.”

He chuckles, “Defensive driving. But you held your ground. Earned my respect that day.”

“And you earned mine,” you reminisce. “Not just as a driver but as a person.”

The atmosphere shifts, the mood turning contemplative. The stories become more personal, more intimate. You share your fears, dreams, and hopes. The raw honesty of the moment creates a bridge, a connection neither of you realized was missing.

Max looks at you, his gaze intense. “You know, despite all the teasing from the others, the setups, and the jokes, I never stopped to really see ... us.”

You nod, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I’ve been so focused on the track, on our partnership as teammates, that I never paused to consider the possibility of ... something more.”

He reaches out to gently take your hand, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. “Maybe it’s time we did.”

You look into his eyes, seeing your own emotions reflected back, and smile. “Maybe it is.”

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you both step onto the podium. The last race had been intense, with both of you claiming the top spots. Max, in first, and you, a close second. The excitement is contagious, the air electric.

Max turns to you, the gleam of victory in his eyes mirrored by another emotion that has been growing since that rainy day. Without another word, he pulls you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like a victory all on its own.

The crowd goes wild, cheering and whistling. But what draws your attention as you pull away, breathless, is the reaction of the grid below.

Lando jumps up, punching the air. “Yes!”

Charles grins, clapping his hands together. “Told you it’d happen on the podium!”

Daniel, laughing, shouts, “Pay up, everyone! I had this race in the betting pool.”

Confused, you turn to Max, who shrugs, just as out of the loop.

Later, as the celebrations continue, Pierre pulls you both aside, showing a clip on his phone. It’s a video from a few months ago, all the drivers and Christian huddled together, placing bets on a whiteboard labeled When Will Max and Y/N Finally Stop Being Blind?

You laugh, watching the clip. “Of course you all managed to turn our love life into a game.”

Max wraps an arm around you. “Well, they do say racing is all about strategy and timing.”

Lando approaches with a pout. “You couldn’t wait a bit longer? I was two races off.”

Daniel, counting his winnings, smirks. “Better luck next time.”

Christian shakes his head with a laugh but pulls both of you in for a hug. “Never thought I’d be so happy to lose 50 quid. Congrats, you two.”

Surrounded by the people who spent most of the season trying to make this happen, you realize that love, like racing, has its own unpredictable course. Because sometimes, the best races aren’t on the track. They’re the ones that lead to unexpected, beautiful destinations.

[roosterforme]

How Could I Forget? | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley met you in a dive bar in Virginia, he just knew he wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about you. Even a year later, he still remembers your laugh and the way you kissed him.

Warnings: Fluff, drinking and swearing

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

I wrote this for the 'Its not the prompt. It's the creator' challenge from @tgm-all4one. Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley flipped through the options in the ancient jukebox while he sipped a cheap beer. This had to be the shittiest bar he'd ever been inside, and that was really saying something, since he was a University of Virginia alumni. 

"Let's see..." he muttered. "Danger Zone? No. Take My Breath Away? Nah. Slow Ride? Absolutely not."

He finally selected Great Balls of Fire and turned to check where his cousins had disappeared off to. But the bar was packed with locals waiting for the fireworks to start over the Chesapeake Bay, and he couldn't spot any of them. 

If they ditched him in this sticky little hellhole on the outskirts of Norfolk, Virginia, he was going to be so pissed. He scanned the bar once more as the song started playing, and his eyes settled on the cutest thing he had seen in a long time. 

You were holding your beer bottle like a microphone and aggressively lip syncing along with Jerry Lee Lewis as his voice blasted from the jukebox. 

Bradley smiled. You were right in the middle of the crowded bar, but nobody else had seemed to notice how you were shimmying along to the song, looking adorable in your own little world. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you mouthed Come on baby, you drive me crazy! Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!

When Bradley laughed, you opened your eyes, and they met his immediately. You pressed your lips together, suddenly looking shy at being caught rocking out. You covered your mouth with your hand in embarrassment as your eyes went wider while Bradley tried to squeeze through the crowd to get to you. 

He was afraid you were going to try to sneak off, but you didn't. You were just nonchalantly drinking your beer when he reached you. 

"That was quite a performance," he said, and you looked up at him, clearly amused. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied, but your smirk said otherwise. 

"That was my song," he said, nodding toward the jukebox.

"What do you mean?" you asked, pressing the bottle to your lips, and drawing Bradley's eyes down to watch the way you took a sip, the bottle lingering on your bottom lip for a beat.

"I selected it. On the jukebox," he grunted, and you laughed at him. 

"No, you didn't. I did."

Bradley scoffed as you squared your shoulders and jutted out your chin in playful defiance. "I chose it like three minutes ago," Bradley insisted. 

"I picked it like five minutes ago!" Your laugh was infectious, and Bradley just wanted to keep it going.

He shook his head solemnly. "It's still my song."

And you shook your head, imitating him. "If anything, it's Jerry Lee Lewis's song."

"Well, I can't argue with that. I did love your cover version though."

"Thanks." God, your smile was adorable. And your lips on that bottle had him thinking some scandalous things about your mouth. 

He cleared his throat. "Are you from Norfolk?"

You sighed deeply. "Unfortunately. You?"

"Virginia Beach."

You crinkled your nose and made a face that had him laughing again. "That might be even worse. You still live there?"

"For now," he replied. "I'm waiting on a new work assignment."

"Can I tell you a secret?" you asked, and when Bradley nodded, you coaxed him closer with your finger. Gorgeous. You were so pretty, Bradley was afraid he wouldn't be able to comprehend your words this close to your eyelashes and your mouth. "I escaped. I live in San Diego now."

"Bravo," he whispered, but he knew you could still hear him over the jukebox as it played Slow Ride. "What's it like to escape Virginia? I've only ever read about it in works of fiction. I've never met anyone who actually managed to do it."

You laughed again, and Bradley had to fight the urge to kiss you. He didn't even know your fucking name, but he was dying to feel your lips on his. 

"It wasn't easy," you promised. "Oh, no, my friend, it was not easy. My whole family still lives here, in Norfolk. My brother is in the damn Navy, if you can believe that. What a waste of a career, right?" you said with a massive eye roll. Bradley opened his mouth to respond, but you added, "Today is his birthday. Born on the Fourth of July, in the military, model citizen. I come home for his birthday every year and end up in this shitty bar every year." 

Bradley couldn't contain his smile. "I'm in the Navy."

Your eyes went wide. "Oh, shit. The Navy is the best!" you said brightly. "Oh boy, do I ever wish I had joined the Navy!"

Bradley tipped his head back and laughed harder. "I like you. You're brutally honest," he said, still laughing as you bit your lip, unable to stop smiling. 

"I'm so sorry," you said, trying not to laugh. "Come here. Let me buy you another beer to make up for the fact that you're in the Navy, you poor thing."

Bradley just shook his head, but then you took his hand in yours and gently led him to the bar. And you kept your hand linked with his while you ordered two drinks. But when you started to reach into your pocket to pay, Bradley took both of your hands in his larger one, and you looked up at him, surprised. 

"I've got it," he told you, pulling some cash out of his own pocket. "It's not every day you meet a celebrity."

"Celebrity?" you asked, and he pulled you closer by both hands. 

"You escaped Virginia! Buying you a drink would have to give me good karma! Who knows, maybe I'll even get stationed somewhere new." 

Bradley released your hands when the beers arrived, but you didn't move away from him. "Where do you want to get stationed?" you asked, and Bradley couldn't look away from the curve of your lips as you took the first sip from the bottle. 

"Somewhere warm," he told you. "But I guess I could learn how to brave some cold weather if I had to."

When the woman behind you bumped into you, Bradley could feel the warmth from your body through his clothes. You were that close. He wanted you closer. And then you were snug up against the front of him. "Well, I think you're brave," you told him with wide, teasing eyes.

"Because I'm in the Navy?" he asked, taking a sip of his beer as you shook your head. 

"No," you told him with a soft laugh. "Because you dare to sport a mustache. Almost nobody can pull that off." Now you were giggling as he ran his fingers along his facial hair. 

"I think you're having a lot of fun at my expense here tonight," he told you. "I think you like me."

You were quiet for a few seconds, and Bradley's heart beat a little faster when you said, "I think you like me, too."

"What's not to like?" he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as he ran his fingers along your cheek. "You stole my song. You hate my job. You made fun of my facial hair. And you managed to hijack my escape from this state, because surely the odds of two of us getting out are just too high."

And then you kissed him. Just a soft brush of your lips to his. But it was perfect. And then the fireworks started outside, but you stayed right there with him, your hand coming to rest on his chest. 

Everyone else rushed out to the deck or down along the water to watch the colorful display, even the bartender. But you didn't move an inch, and now Bradley was setting down his beer. This time he kissed you, and you nibbled on his lower lip as your other hand tangled in his hair. Bradley's hands went to your waist, as he tasted you. Beer and something kind of sweet. 

"What's your name?" Bradley asked between kisses, and when you told him, the sound of it echoed through his mind. He whispered it back to you, against your lips as you dragged your fingernails along his scalp. "I'm Bradley."

"Hi, Bradley," you said with a smile between kisses. "I'm sorry I stole your song. And I actually think your mustache is cute."

He was smiling so much against your neck as he kissed you there. "I'm really happy I came to this shitty bar tonight."

"Me too," you gasped as he sucked on you there before returning his lips to yours. These hurried, needy kisses turned more languid as they slowed down. You had pushed Bradley back onto an empty stool, your palms on his splayed thighs as he stroked your neck and face while you kissed. Every little moan and gasp had him coaxing you closer, and then the fireworks ended. The other patrons started trickling back into the bar as your lips nudged his in one final kiss. 

You pulled away from him, smiling and sliding your hands down to his knees. He leaned a little close to your face, ready to beg for one more kiss as he said, "Please, let me have your phone number."

You leaned in and kissed the corner or his lips before you backed away. Bradley was up out of the stool, chasing the warmth of your body, but you shook your head.

"That's not a good idea," you told him, gently pressing your palm to his chest, and it took you a few beats to meet his eyes. "And make you pine for me from afar?" you asked with a soft, teasing smile. "I couldn't live with that."

Bradley whispered your name about a dozen times in a row until your eyes closed. He kissed you softly and said, "I'm pretty sure I'll be doing that anyway. Pining for you."

You looked up at him, gaze darting between his lips and his eyes, almost like you were about to cave. But you shook your head and said, "You'll forget all about me by tomorrow."

Then someone called your name from the other side of the bar and stole your attention from him. And Bradley felt all the perfect flirtation and banter and kisses slipping through his grasp. 

"I need to go," you told him, and you looked so sad. "I hope you escape Virginia."

He nodded slightly, running his thumb across your soft cheek one more time. "I know this sounds weird, but I'm going to miss you."

And then you kissed him again, as if you understood exactly what he meant. And then you were gone. 

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

Bradley thought about you a lot. Sometimes he let your name grace his tongue with the sweet feel of it. Sometimes he would daydream about your laugh. But the moment he opened his mail in late August and read the line detailing the location of his new station, a slew of obscenities flew out of his mouth. 

San Diego. He was going to be stationed in San Diego. 

And he had no idea how to reach you. He only knew your first name. But he spent his first few months there hopeful that he would run into you somewhere. So he visited different grocery stores. He took different running tails. He went to the mall across town once. And each time he did one of those things, he felt ridiculous. Stupid. Idiotic. Until he remembered your smile and the way you made him feel so good while also poking fun at him. 

As the months wore on, he went on dates and kissed other girls, but he still thought about you sometimes. When he listened to Jerry Lee Lewis, he pictured you singing into your beer bottle. When he drank a cheap beer, he could almost hear your laugh. 

You had told him that you go to that same shitty bar every year on your brother's birthday. But just as Bradley purchased tickets for a roundtrip flight from San Diego to Norfolk, he realized you probably didn't even remember him. What was he going to do? Walk into that bar and tell you he missed you? You'd look at him like he was insane. Or worse, like you had no fucking clue who he was. 

He thought about not going. Just letting the tickets go to waste. But at the very least, he would be able to visit his cousins for the night. At the very least, he might just be able to see you again, just for a minute. 

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

You sat at the bar, across the room from your brother. You didn't know why you still bothered to come home for the weekend every year, but here you were. In Norfolk. Again. 

As politely as you could, you turned down the red headed guy who tried to buy you a drink. And you did the same thing to the blond, too. Because now you associated this shithole bar with wavy, sandy brown hair and big, brown puppy eyes. And you weren't about to override your memories from one year ago with some random loser who wanted to buy you a can of Miller Lite. 

You hoped Bradley was currently stationed somewhere warm, near a beach. It always made you smile to picture him with his feet in the sand, drinking a beer.

Your head swiveled to the jukebox as soon as you heard the opening piano chords of Great Balls of Fire playing, but there was just an older woman standing there snapping her fingers. 

Your heart sank a bit as you settled back into your stool and sipped your beer. It would have been too good to be true, and you were ridiculous for even entertaining the thought. But then that raspy voice was behind you, saying your name and making goosebumps break out all across your skin.

When you turned and met his warm eyes, your mouth fell open. He was here. And he looked so handsome and nervous. And your heart was hammering too hard, making it difficult to talk. 

"I don't know if you remember me," he said softly, looking at your face like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen. "But-"

"Bradley! How could I forget?" you breathed, and you watched his smile grow. "I was hoping you'd escape Virginia."

He laughed, and you wanted to kiss his mustache again. "I did. And I've been looking for you for ten months."

You leaned in a little closer and grinned. "Well I've been in San Diego."

"Me too," he said, and you tilted your head in question, but he just smiled more. "That's where I've been stationed since September."

"Oh!" you gasped. "You escaped to my city!"

"Mmhmm. And you made me come all the way back to shitty Norfolk, Virginia to find you."

You laughed. "You came back here for me?"

He nodded and stroked his fingers across your cheek just the way you remembered. "Yes. All I could think about was the way you told me you come here every year on this day. So I've been waiting months for the chance to try to see you again."

"That's really romantic," you told him, letting your palm come to rest on his chest. 

He covered it with his as he said, "My full name is Bradley Bradshaw. I live in Coronado, California on Pomona Avenue. And if you're single, I'm not leaving here without your phone number."

You were clamoring off your stool before he even finished talking, and he welcomed you into his arms. And then you kissed him, just like you had a year ago, his body warm and perfect against yours. You told him your full name between kisses, running your fingers through his hair and melting into him. "And yes, you can have my phone number, Bradley Bradshaw." 

He sighed against your cheek. "Even though I've been pining for you from afar?"

You laughed, remembering what you'd told him last year. "Apparently you've been pining for me from nearby. And that just won't do. Because I've thought about you... about the guy with the cute mustache who acted like he owns Jerry Lee Lewis's music catalog. About the only guy I ever kissed in the middle of a dive bar before I even knew his name," you whispered.

And then Bradley was kissing you again before he ended up sitting on the bar stool with you perched on his leg. He gave you his phone so you could save your number for him, and you sat like that until last call, just talking and laughing and occasionally kissing with the promise of more to come. 

When you got back to your parents' house with your brother, your phone illuminated with a new text message. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Meet me in San Diego.

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

They were both pining from afar! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for putting up with me.

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

[oikarma]

revolving door

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

summary: you don't know why he keeps crawling back to you. love, he explains. he loves you more than anything on the planet. love. maybe that's why you keep choosing to believe him, again and again, even when everything tells you otherwise.

a/n: toxic af don't read if it'll trigger you <3 carlos is, unfortunately, not the best person in this.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by jenniferaniston and others

yourinstagram covey at heart! tbosas is now out in theatres near you, thank you to all the people who have made baby!yn's dream of being in a hunger games adaptation come true <3

view all comments

user1 you wanted to be in the hunger games 💀 thats sickening...ew...

user2 fr? user3 be honest with me you probably wanted to as well. that doesn't mean she likes mass slaughter, raising of children to be killers, poverty, etc. she just means the hunger games series was BIG and it would have been cool to be part of it. she is now.

user4 you and tom are so cuteee

user5 dating announcement when?

carlossainz55 Unforgettable. You put on an amazing performance, darling.

yourinstagram i love you beyond words ❤️ user6 what's a racecar driver doing in y/n's likes?? user7 that's her man user6 she has a man 😭 how did i not know this

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by lewishamilton and others

yourinstagram winter dump ❄️

view all comments

user1 QUEEN I SAW YOU AT DISNEY liked by yourinstagram

user2 was she with carlos? user1 no she was with lewis user3 what user4 y/n's known him for a while too because of nicole. they go WAY back user5 lore drop

user6 stunning. heavenly. ethereal.

user7 what's puppo's name?

yourinstagram wrio! isn't he a cutie ☺️

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by lewishamilton and others

f1 BREAKING: Lewis Hamilton to join Ferrari in 2025!

view all comments

user1 no.

user2 the world ended when it happened to me

user3 lewis mercedes era over? wtf?

user4 actually in shock rn

user5 wait. so is charles leaving or carlos

user6 prob carlos charles has been raised by ferrari user7 NOOO MY CHILI

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by scuderiaferrari and others

yourinstagram red for dior (and red for my baby)

view all comments

user1 ferrari you don't get to be in y/n's likes after dropping her man

scuderiaferrari 🤨 user2 what does that even mean user3 wait.

user4 QUEEN

user5 Once chance please I promise I'll make it worth it

user6 hear me out she's dating lewis

user7 swapping drivers the minute ferrari does? yikes.. user8 told you she was there for clout user9 and literally the DAY it's announced like how much more obvious can you get

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

yourinstagram has added to their close friends story

replies

alexandrasaintmleux oh honey, i'm so sorry. i just heard from charles. i'm here if you need a shoulder to cry on 🤍

yourinstagram thanks alex, lysm

lewishamilton Let me know if you want to talk

yourinstagram i just want ben and jerrys but they hired the good ceo or whatever lewishamilton Doesn't Charles have an ice cream brand yourinstagram it's not dairy free lewishamilton It's okay, we don't have to share yourinstagram can we watch a really stupid movie lewishamilton Like a chick flick? yourinstagram yeah but not a romantic one cause i'll cry lewishamilton Got it yourinstagram we've never been on a break before... lewishamilton I know, Y/N. I know.

carlossainz55 I miss you already carlossainz55 has deleted this message

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by scuderiaferrari and others

carlossainz55 🏆P3!! Good start to the season. We have a very good baseline and we'll keep pushing for more! 💪🏻

view all comments

user1 bravo, what a good start!

user2 first podium of the year and first of many more to come

user3 😍

user4 guys was y/n in the paddock? i didn't see her

user5 no iirc, but she's been filming Y2K & she has a broadway project soon so i think she's just busy

user6 Tifosi you’re gonna miss this legend. I’m sure.

user7 how is lewis even going to compete with this man...ur loss ferrari...we will follow you everywhere carlitos!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by others

f1gossipofficial Lewis Hamilton and Y/N L/N spotted out shopping. Just friends?

view all comments

user1 y/n girl go back to your man

user2 what a gold digger

user3 no louis vuitton, no lewis hamilton

user4 can't believe she's a cheater i really thought she loved carlos

user5 good for him! he'll be free of ferrari and this bitch

user6 am i the only one that kind of supports this...

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by jaedenwesley and others

yourinstagram feeling ... Y2K (out in december)

view all comments

jaedenwesley Boss ass co-star!! ❤️

yourinstagram hell yeah user wait, are they dating?

user1 that outfit in p2 is EATING

user2 cheater.

user3 can't wait for it to come out

user4 Did you and carlos break up? Yru not liking his posts anymore??

lewishamilton Movie of the year, perhaps?

yourinstagram movie of the decade (hah get it) user5 and they say they're "just friends" user6 the man my gf tells me not to worry about user7 @/user6 well carlos doesn't have to worry anymore pretty sure y/n and lewis are going to make it official soon

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by nicolescherzinger and others

yourinstagram first preview tomorrow! a collective thank you nytimes for these beautiful photos

view all comments

user1 KIT CONNOR TOO? WHYS SHE PULLING EVERYONE

user2 she really living her best life

user3 does this mean she won't come to any gps cause she'll be busy on broadway? ☹️

user4 well there's miami so we might see her visiting lewis user5 are we sure they're dating? user6 probably. she hasn't interacted publicly w carlos in AGES, they've unfollowed each other, and she and lewis have been spotted together a lot (which means she's been flying from NY to see him, crazy work)

user7 she looks so sad.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by others

f1gossipofficial Carlos Sainz spotted with a woman. Have he and Y/N L/N broken up?

view all comments

user1 no, no this can't be real

user2 y/n's in new york there's no way that's her user3 so this is why they've been so distant... user4 well she's probably been sleeping around with lewis for months. got a taste of her own medicine

user5 caryn, you were great while it lasted

user6 what a bop

user7 no wonder it's over

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by others

f1gossipofficial F1 it-couple Y/N L/N and Carlos Sainz's first public spotting since 2024. Have the lovebirds made up?

view all comments

user1 i'm literally getting whiplash from all the drama surrounding them

user2 i'm so glad they're back together

user3 wasn't he literally with a different girl LAST WEEK

user4 she's glowing oml

user5 and the way he came all the way to ny to attend the premiere with her? it's not even her film...dedication

user6 well miami is next week user7 does this mean we'll see her in the paddock?

user8 what is this relationship 😭 he wasn't even subtle with the cheating tf y/n stop going back to him

user9 is she dating lewis? is carlos cheating? are they back together? PLEASE STOP IM SO CONFUSED.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by charles_leclerc and others

carlossainz55 Today wasn't my day. At the start I went from P2 into T1 to P4 after having to avoid Pérez. Then the Safety-Car came out one lap after I pitted and we lost a chance to lead the race. It is what it is! However, the pace was very strong! On to the next one. 🤍🩵

view all comments

user1 2 hearts? on a 5th place? i wonder if his happiness has to do with perchance his girl

user2 looking gooood carlos

user3 a thirst trap? lucky me

user4 y/n's other acc LMAO

user4 oh he looks so good in blue baby

yourinstagram 5 for 55 💙

carlossainz55 55 for you and you alone, mi amor user5 we are so back caryn stans user6 the war is over 🥺

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by carlossainz55 and others

yourinstagram birds of a feather

view all comments

billieeilish will you love me til the day that i die?

yourinstagram my heart's taken, i'm afraid user1 carlos sainz you are. one lucky bastard. user2 oh she's whipped fr

user3 happiness looks good on you

user4 do we realize that he probably took the 3rd picture

user5 blue for ... williams move?

user6 no you're crazy user5 well we thought hamferrari was crazy but whatever.

carlossainz55 ❤️

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by carlossainz55 and others

yourinstagram snow white in 6 continents + lots of jet lag, but it's all worth it 🍎

view all comments

user1 they did you so dirty in the movie 😭

user2 fr the bob...they should've kept her natural hair

user3 lewis's private jet? hm.

user4 carlos not commenting? hm. user5 lots of jet lag? hm. wonder if she's going to silverstone user6 and will it be for lewis or for her Carlos? user7 y'all need to grow up y/n and carlos are DATING and her and lewis have never confirmed being anything beyond friends

alexandrasaintmleux my gorgeous girl <3

yourinstagram see you soon 😉

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by others

f1gossipofficial Y/N L/N spotted at Silverstone.

view all comments

user1 the mercedes headpiece?

user2 what happened to carlos? user3 tbf she's known lewis longer user2 but carlos is her BOYFRIEND

user4 people are wild. she said no to a picture and they still decided to post her. smh

user5 well she's a celebrity clearly she wants the attention

user6 what's crazy to me is that even when they unfollowed each other they kept all the lovey comments and posts up

user7 digital footprint who

user8 haven't seen her much in the media. is she just keeping a low profile?

user9 op responded to a similar comment on the twitter thread and said y/n looked like she'd been crying

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by yourinstagram and others

lewishamilton YES 🍾🍾🍾 945 days since the last win and it’s finally come home. SILVERSTONE I LOVE YOU. There’s no crowd that deserves this more. This is love, this is family. Thank you all for the love and support. Massive shout to the team as well. Everyone in the garage and back at the factory have given long hard hours for this result. It’s not been easy but it’s brought us back to back wins for the team. Most importantly we didn’t lose hope. We didn’t give up. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU KEEP GOING. STILL WE RISE 🇬🇧🏆❤️ !!!

view all comments

yourinstagram words don't convey how proud i am of you ❤️ you come back everytime. world champion in my heart forever. i'll be cheering for you until the end! *liked by lewishamilton

user1 the heart? user2 leave her ALONE how long do i have to defend them being FRIENDS user3 no wonder she was crying oml

user4 it's been a long time coming

user5 EIGHT TIME WDC LEWIS HAMILTON, LADIES AND GENTLEMAN

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by others

f1gossipofficial Carlos Sainz out for dinner with model Rebecca Donaldson.

view all comments

user1 i'm sick don't even touch me

user2 he's moving on so fast??

user3 i refuse to believe he does this on his own accord. like y/n must've cheated or something

user4 stop babying a grown man

user5 is this why y/n wasn't in the ferrari paddock at silverstone

user6 Such an upgrade from that cheater

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by yourinstagram and others

carlossainz55 P1 in Mexico! 🇲🇽🏆 Winning here in front of this incredible crowd is amazing, thank you all for the support! I enjoyed the race from start to finish, definitely a weekend to remember 🙌🏻 Thank you for the love you have shown me.

view all comments

user1 aaaaaaand they're back.

user2 to be fair i would fold for carlos sainz too user3 the way he ran straight toward her even though she showed up mid race like HE KNEW. user4 soulmates.

user5 I don't know whether to be happy or start preparing for the inevitable breakup

user6 smooth operation complete!! congrats 🌶️

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Engines were loud but louder was the pounding in your heart as you stood in a sea of red. The last place you should have been was here, at the Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez, celebrating a man who had broken your heart more times than you could count. But love was never rational and here you were.

You knew the exact moment Carlos spotted you. His celebration faltered for just a second, his breath hitching, before the cameras and his team swarmed him.

He shouldn't have been surprised.

You had always been there, even when you shouldn't have been. Even when he had given you every reason to leave. And God, there had been so many reasons.

The late-night arguments that left you in tears, the hollow apologies that followed, the women whose names you never wanted to know. You had left-more than once. Everyone knew. But Carlos had always found a way to drag you back into his orbit, whether it was a drunken voicemail at 3 a.m. or a quiet confession that he couldn't sleep without you beside him.

By the time he was free from the podium and the press, you were by the barriers, heart in your throat. He didn't hesitate-couldn't. One second, he was weaving through the bodies of Ferrari crew members and the next he's pulling you close the way he always did, positively magnetic, body latching onto yours like it had never left. On his lips, you tasted the kind of desperation that only came with knowing you've been given one last chance.

His fingers curled at your waist. He kissed you like he was trying to prove something: to you, to himself, to everyone who had ever said you were doomed from the start. When you broke apart, your breaths mingling, his forehead pressed against yours, he murmured, "Dios mío. You always come back."

You exhaled shakily, hands fisting against his racing suit. "And you always ruin it."

His jaw clenched, a flicker of something-guilt? longing? love-crossing his face. "Not this time."

You wanted to believe him. You always did.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

a/n: started cute and turned into a trainwreck of a relationship. poor lewis having to put up with all this shennanigans

[missmarveledsblog]

Bet on it ( Bradley Bradshaw x reader ) PART THREE

Summary : it the night of the gala an awkward start til the two break the silence that leaves them going down memory lane to simplier time with the ice breaking and thawing bradley starts to realise somethings like how good his name sound coming from her lips , how beautiful she truly is and the two get closer and closer

warnings : goofy , fluffy fun , allusions to smut rooster is older than reader by like 8 or something years so aging him up in og top gun timeline

previous part

It was odd , it was awkward as hell and a silent car ride as the both went to talk,opening  their mouths and yet closed a second later . going from enemies and friends wasn’t so clear cut like in the movie where they were instant besties . sure they didn’t squabble or insult each other much as before still few slip ups here and there .  now she kind wish its like in the movies anything would be better than this and when she tried to kill the silence words failed her . she also felt old feeling coming to the surface which she could only hate more for the timing .  she never hated him , never truly  a part of her always loved the man.  a drunken confession to jake  after a particularly bad time between the two that night . she confided in what happened all the years ago maybe it was dramatic reaction from her side but he did truly hurt her and now she was  questioning if he really knew that  , something they could talk about some other time she wasn’t going to make an already awkward moment even worse . it didn’t help how good he looked not that he wasn’t hotter than the fucking sun before but rooster in  three piece suit should of been a crime how good he looked and even more happy she wasn’t driving or they would be heading to a hospital instead of a hospital charity gala . 

Why couldn’t he talk , He of all people  having trouble speaking when all he did was talk . it was like bagman not having an ego and yet the woman currently sitting in the passenger seat of his bronco had him either silent or a blubbering mee  . the same woman who made his blood pressure rising had it rising or a whole different reason .  “ say something jesus anything” he cursed himself internally. 

“ music” he asked quickly to which she just gave a polite nod to . “ least it was something “ he mentally wondering how it was so bad , how it was like this to the point they couldn’t even talk to each other without the rest of their friends around , tapping his finger on the wheel as he listened to the music pretending he wasn’t cringing inside then it came on the radio a song from their childhood , a regular in the hard deck . 

“ you shake my nerves and your rattle my brain” that voice it wasn’t him , 

“ too much love drives a man  insane” she could sing since well , he remember she and his father did but a three year old rendition of twinkle twinkle like star. 

“You broke my will , but what a thrill “ he joined turning to see her smiling . 

“ GOODNESS GRACIOUS GREAT BALLS OF FIRE “ they screamed before bursting into a fit of laughter ,

“ erm excuse me mini mitchell why the hell have i not heard you sing before” he asked. 

“ well you hated me so i wasn’t gonna sing you a lullaby now was i “ she snorted. 

“ i disliked you never hated you but i regret all that really wish i could change it all if i could we could be touring america singing jerry lee lewis” he winked.

“ as much as i love your rendition nothing will ever beat your dad’s  what i’d give to hear him singing it again” she smiled softly .  

“ nah what i would love is his and your version of twinkle twinkle little star , i mean you both made that a ballet” he chuckled. 

“ we did rock that one , but i think our rewrite of bingo was better “ she snorted. 

“ oh yeah the one where you made bingo like a twenty letter word and some numbers in there too “he mused yet playful lilt to his tone. 

“ hey i was exploring art through music and i was also a toddler all words were big back then “ she mock offense .

“ hey now your taking me up wrong i am a fan and so was my dad as he was able to follow along  he was your biggest fan “ . 

“ and my dad is your biggest fan we lucked out on the godfather train huh ? …. Well sort of “ she grimace realizing how it came out. 

“ hey your dad’s  maverick i might be an orphan godchild soon with how he take risks  “ he grinned was her laughter always this way and why did he wanna hear more of it .

“ my dad is maverick that man is gonna outlive us all” 

 the venue was bigger than she though it was bigger event than she thought . in a way it was better it meant more fund for her department , more resources,  more bed. 

“ im not going to get tackle when we walk in her am” he joked . 

“ i mean beth might … nah you should be fine i'll tell them  it was a misunderstanding or something” . 

“ beth the lady i talk to cause if so i  will use you as a shield” . 

“ chivalry isn't dead after all” she smirked . 

just as she went to get out of the car only for him to run like hell to her side opening the door even held her hand as she got out the full gentlemen treatment  seemed to be on the cards as  they walked in the entrance. to say he was  nervous seeing the same security guard eyeing him up til she smile and shook her head signaling is all is good .  the security guard made him nervous but the glare on beth face  well  had him standing behind  y/n when the woman made her way over. 

“ sweet pea blink twice if you need help “ she whispered.  

“ most wonderfully divine miss beth its ok  we sorted it out , bradley this is the wonderfully divine beth most skill nurse beth this is bradley bradshaw master of piano and super hornet jets” y/n stood pulling   him forward and yet it wasn't the nervous  it wasn’t fear of this southern woman who had a sweet  nurturing smile but looks to kill , it was fact it was first time she said his name his actual name , not his callsign or surname but his name . it felt good it felt better then good it made things inside him stir and a dopey grin to form on his face . she got him up in this gala smiling like he was dopey from the snow white and the seven dwarves all because she said his name and this was not good this was not what he thought would happen so early on to the bet ,   he needed to and yet couldn’t squash feeling erupting inside himself that honestly made him feel shit.

Through out the night he stood taller , smiled wider  everytime she introduced him to a coworker or  shit he hope newer people would come in just to do it all again.  Laughing and joking around with her coworkers , the pride that shouldn’t have been there yet burst out of him when they praise her on the good work , how she impacted the patients  or just what an honor it was to know or see her do her thing . 

“ i swear she is only doc i’ve seen that would sing along to the messed up nursery rhymes and not bat a lid and kids love her “ beth cooed as he listened to her coworkers gushing about her. 

“ or trying to get people to come visit the kids she got people dressed as superhero’s last time ” marcus a fellow doctor asked. 

“ hey happy patients happy doctor “ she shrugged taking a sip of her drink . 

“ we should say it to your dad get the dagger squad to come” bradley  clapped excitedly. 

“ the staff and kids would be happy “ beth winked . “ not you i’m still on fence about you pretty boy “ .

“ hey deserved but i hope if her dad says yes i can win you over “ he batted his lashes at the woman as she tried to keep her stance . 

“ what am i missing?” marcus asked. 

“ well we didn’t get along for a while but now we’re cool rooster has redeemed himself tonight “ she swirled the class and yet it he suddenly felt a sting at the fact is wasn’t his name. 

“ so when did you become a couple “ the man  asked excitedly only for both to choke on the liquid in there mouth. 

“ no no no ha no we’re just friend  , buddies “ she laughed grabbing napkins 

“ yeah friends what she said i mean come on girl like her with dude like me “ bradley chuckled til he seen her face drop and the hurt on it . “ i didn’t mean it like that i mean you are wow beautiful .. oh my god am i having a stroke tonight or something”  he groaned. 

“ i think what baby eyes is trying to say is your too good for him and if it not well it what we know”beth god he could kiss that woman if she didn’t scare the hell out of him . 

“ exactly what i meant i didn’t mean i was better or hotter than you “ he stumbled stuttering over his words.

“ boy just shh not making it better.. Now take her to dance that dress is too good to be sitting here all night ” the woman hushed. 

“ yes ma’am … would you wanna dance with me i think my feet work better than mouth “ he turned as she gave a little yes .  now he really did hope his feet worked better than his mouth  or was he going to make more of a fool of himself. 

Hand on hers as she place the other on his shoulder and his other hand to her hip .  gentle swaying he could do as that much it wasn’t too complicated and yet he felt his heart beating hard in his chest he was nearly expecting to see it on his shirt and then she looked up at him and his knees almost buckled  .  he never wanted her to look at him any other way than that , never wanted to hear rooster coming out of her mouth , then he tried to think of the past something to get his head in the game, he couldn’t lose his resolve so quick  a month into the bet he needed to think of how he felt back then the way he felt when it all started . his motivation to keeping strong and yet he couldn’t  the rational part of him was coming to effect and he decided one night to not think of it , one night to think of everything but enjoy the moment at hand. 

As guest filtered out and some memories of her bosses she never wanted to member they stood out of the venue and chill air of night hit . when she saw bradley bradshaw at her door she didn’t think she would have one of the best nights of her life . she never thought feeling she buried so deep would  break and come back in ten fold  . it was crazy , borderline insane to how she felt by end of night and that was it she didn’t want the night to end  , she didn’t want to say goodbye and things to go back to normal . she hated it  knowing it was stupid to think this way fucking hell they just started being some what friends the last month.  The shiver down her body and then she felt the warm weight of his jacket on  her shoulders and his hand out to lead her back to the car .  the whole timeshe willed herself to stop to think clearly to think of how he hurt her all those years ago when she felt like this first.  But she couldn’t all logic and reason quashed by the beat of her heart . . she fell harder than she ever did. Pulling her up outside of her apartment she should of said goodnight leave the good to stay good in that moment . 

“ you wanna come in for a drink” was all it took for another shift to happen a new direction to run it course and what she would find out the worst idea she’s ever had . 

Nervous of being in a small space together , nervous of new but old feeling coming back and nervous  to the  doubt of everything and anything.   Few beers and glasses of wine took the worry , the nerves and the caution away . relax and giddy finding a trip down memory lane filling in the spots of being apart . she told him about med school how hard and crazy it was especially giving she was youngest of her class , old boyfriends and friends . he told her of  collage  still a little sore spot not going to the naval academy but she wasn’t so happy with her dad for that either . then how surreal it was following in the footsteps of his dad and pete mitchell both daunting and exciting . more drink flowing as they laughed and joked around about the good side of memory lane .  

“ i can’t believe we missed out on so much huh ?” she sighed sadly . 

“ we really did , least we friends now right or did my stupid mouth and bad dancing scare you away?”he teased. 

“ you know bad dancing and mouth aside tonight has been so fun , really i mean you haven’t fully won beth over but you have won me over bradshaw”  she beamed up at him . 

“ please call me bradley i like it better when you say it i mean anyone else no eww but when it’s you makes me happy when you say name “ he leaned forward she felt herself pulled like a magnetic force . 

“ bradley “ she whispered and just like that all resolved went out the window  and something snapped as two crashed against one another clash of teeth and tongues , hunger and adorations . stars aligning , fireworks , sunshine and fucking rainbows . a kiss and a fear of what was to come next . 

A blinding light and a thumping headache . a personal jackhammer living in the confine of she sat up  and the sun making it harder to open her eyes  feeling around for her phone til her hand hit something that makes the hangover the least of her problems  as she force her eyes open and see a sleeping rooster naked in her bed . buzzing of her phone on the floor as she dove make sure not to waking the sleeping pilot  crawling out the room not ready to deal with what happened just yet as she hit the  little green icon . 

“ hey darling did ya have fun with chicken ?” 

“ more than i should of “ she gulped .

part 4

taglist : @djs8891 @peachmartini @shanimallina87 @kawaiiskeletondragonbanana @paisleebubbles

[lyn-js]

Dancing under the Moonlight | Chapter 1. Center Stage

Bradley Bradshaw x OC Reader (Nickname Honey)

Summary: After the Uranium Mission, Bradley Bradshaw decides he wants to settle down. Maybe even start a family at some point in time. But he felt so tired (and old) to be in the dating scene. That's until he sees a beautiful new bartender at The Hard Deck. Not only that; turns out she's Penny's niece, Beatrice. They both hit it off amazing, but for some reason, Beatrice isn't letting her walls down yet. But Bradley is going to get to the bottom of what Bea's big secret is.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, drinking, mentions of past abuse, fluff, eventually smut 18+, age gap (24 & 35)

Check out the Masterlist

You're dancing, swaying with the music, feeling your body finally letting go of the stress, pain, and loss from the real world. Once you get on that stage, everything melts away.

Once the dance was over all of you moved seductively off the stage getting some whistles from the guys in the audience. After you made your way off you all giggled and waiting to change for the next dance. You lock arms with your Best Friend Chantal trying not to get separated from each other until you reach the dressing rooms. You both unlock from one another and sit down at your stations. Luckily you're seated next to each other so you both can still chat while getting ready. 

When wiping off your smudged and sweaty makeup from your last performance, you suddenly hear a ping from your phone that was on the table.

You drop everything you're doing, and see it was a text from Bradley. Your whole face lights up, and you try to unlock your phone as fast as you possibly can and open the message.

B🐓: Hey Bea, what are you up to on this fine evening? You: Oh ya know, just sitting down reading a good book. What about you? Jamming out with Jerry Lee Lewis. 🙂 B🐓: Hey J.L.L. happens to be a classic. Thank you very much. And what if I did tell you I was?

You laugh out loud when you read the last text, you knew he was an old soul when you two were talking about music the other night. You want to reply, but the backstage assistant Sean said curtain time was in 5 minutes. You drop your phone and finish your eye makeup. You look over and see Chantal looking at you with a smirk on your face. 

“What C?” you stand up, unzipping your costume to get changed into another, looking at her in the mirror “Oh nothing, are you talking to loverboy again?” she tries to say innocently. But she says it loudly, to make sure everyone can hear. Everybody around you keeps making “oohs” and loudly whistles. She started to catch on when you were glued to your phone for the last couple of days at rehearsal. Then finally telling her about Bradley, and your awkward, yet really sweet encounter.

Your cheeks burn up at the thought of actually being together with Bradley, and for him to think he could have feelings for you. But you try to wipe that from your mind.

You never liked lying to anyone, but now you most certainly don’t want to lie to Bradley. But, How could he ever possibly be with you after you tell him you're basically a stripper? You get paid to show off your body and dance on a stage. He certainly wouldn’t want you after that.

Plus Zeke always made you feel bad about your career. Calling you the worst possible names you could think of because you showed off your body, and flirted with the customers. But you’ve tried to tell him multiple times you were never flirting with the audience because you were on stage most of the night. And the only free time you had was when you were backstage taking a 5-minute breather, or getting ready for the next performance.

“He doesn’t know. Does he?” Chantal asks while getting up to come stand next to you. You don’t answer, you finally get undressed, and put on your other costume. But you stop when you feel her wrap her in her arms around you, so you can let some tears fall down your face.

You and Chantal have been best friends since you could remember. You both met in junior high when she was the new girl at school, one day at lunch she was getting picked on, and being making fun of her for what she was wearing, and what she looked like. One of the idiot students decided to be bold and yank on one of her braids. With one broken arm, two bloody noses, (obviously not you two), and one big lecture from the principal, you two were glued to the hip ever since. You both know each other like the backs of each other's hands. So she knows what's going on with you all the time.

You let out a sigh while trying to put on your outfit, but she cuts in and helps you finish zipping up the back. “Why don’t you tell him? You are obviously into him,” you still are silent, but give her a little nod. “Then why don’t you go for it, Honey? What’s the problem?” After she finishes zipping you up you turn to her. “He deserves someone better.” She wanted to say something else to you, but your conversation was interrupted by Sean sneaking his way through you and Chantal. “Honey, we all deserve someone better. But right now you all need to get your little buns on stage.” You roll your eyes kiss him on the cheek, and walk back to your station. You put on a final coat of lipstick, grab your police cap making sure it fits snugly over your volumed and curled-out hair, go walk on stage, and get in your stance with the rest of the group. The next thing you know, the spotlight is turned on you.

It’s Showtime.

(Bradley’s POV)

God, I can’t get enough of that girl. As soon as we started talking I wanted to know more about her. What does she like to do in her free time, what’s her job, her favorite hobby, and what she likes to do for fun? 

Now you sound like a crazy stalker right now.

But every time you think of her, you want to know more. You’re being pulled in. You gravitate towards her, and you can’t get enough. You never really opened up that much around a person at all. Not even the squad, but she feels so different from everyone else.

After the first time you met Bea, around those last couple of days, she would come by The Hard Deck and sit at the bar wanting to be near Penny. As soon as you would see her walk in, you would ditch the group to go see her and chat a little bit. You wanted to get to know her, wanted to see what she was like. We both talk about where we grew up, and what our families are like. I even talked to her a little bit about my mom. 

With the other relationships, I’ve had over the past couple of years it was always a tough subject to bring up. They would always pressure me and make me talk about what happened, and every time I would always get emotional and put my walls up and never want to talk about it again.

That was the deal breaker in why they never lasted, but when I was around Bea, she would never force me to answer the questions, she let me take my time with what I was going to say. She made me feel comfortable for who I was, and I knew she would never put that against me. And over those past couple of days, the group caught on when I would leave, and ditch them to go hang out with the “mystery girl” at the bar, they would call her. Eventually, I told them about Beatrice, and they knew for a fact that I was smitten with her. Any chance they would get, whether it was at work, in the air, or even when we would hang out for a movie night they would always make fun of me(Mostly Nat)for having a crush, and not telling her how I feel.

But I wanted to give Bea some space. I knew she just got out of something traumatic, and I didn’t want to force anything onto her. 

Plus She was young. She would move on to the next young, good-looking guy she sees and leave me in the dust. She deserves more. She also wouldn’t know how to deal with me being on deployment, always being gone for weeks, maybe months at a time. I know she wouldn’t want to wait for someone like me. You snap out of your mind when putting the Bronco in park, and making your way into The Hard Deck. 

When I walk in I immediately spot the group at the pool tables as usual, and make my way over. When I got there I made my way over to sit next to Bob who was chewing on some peanuts. We make casual conversation until Phoenix comes over with her pool stick. “Bradshaw, whaddya doing hear? I thought you were staying in?” She asks in a curious tone. “Oh, ya know. Wanted to get some fresh air, might stop in here for a little bit.” But I know this woman can see right through my bullshit, and knows why I’m here.

“You're lying B,” she tells me straight forward, not really giving me anytime time to make an excuse. But I do anyway. “What are you talking about? I wanted to come see you guys. Is that a problem to see my friends, Nat?” “She hasn't texted you back!” she sing songed the words to me. I just wanted to tell her off saying it wasn’t the problem. 

But that was the problem.

“Dude she’s probably at work, or she’s at home.”Payback chimed in, and then Fanboy “Yeah, she’ll text you later probably, don’t get in a fret.” now I’m starting to get a little annoyed. But, they might be right, she probably is at home doing something.

Pulse, the question work for Beatrice was always a little rocky when I tried to ask her what she does. At first, she didn’t answer, so I didn’t want to push her since she didn’t do it to me. But I asked her again and she gave me a made-up answer. “Oh yeah. I’m also working at a dinner not far from here.” And I know that she just got hired by Penny to work at the Hard Deck part-time. I just wanted her to tell me the truth.

But I’m not the type of guy to make her tell me something she doesn’t want. I’m gonna give her space until she wants to tell me.

“Does everyone want to be in my dating life, and give me advice?” “well, technically you're not dating her.” I look over to see the one and only Hangman. “To be honest it’s none of your business, okay?” you tell him with an annoyed tone, not really in the mood to speak with him.

“All I’m sayin’ Rooster, if you don’t make a move, I might have to go after her myself?” When the words fall out of his mouth, my fists clench at my sides and I flare my nostrils. “Back off Man.” You try and walk over to where he is standing, just to give him a piece of your mind, but Ruben, and Bob are holding you back a little bit. Not letting you get near Jake. 

When he sees you try and move over towards him he backs up and puts his hands up in surrender with a smug smirk on his face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Rooster. No need to get your feathers ruffled. It’s not like you're dating her.” 

That’s all you hear from him, then he walks away to go over to the dart board. But you see javy gives you an apologetic look and walks over to where Jake is now. You just give him a silent nod and let him walk away. After that guys back off you want to go out back and cool off a little, so you do.

After a couple of minutes to yourself to blow off some steam, you hear someone come out.

“Hey, why don’t you tell her how you feel? By the way, you two are texting every minute, she might feel the same way?” She tries to say in a sympathetic tone. But it doesn’t work, and she knows it.

“You caught on to that, didn’t you?” you ask, and then let out a chuckle. “Dude, your phone is practically jammed in your face anytime we are on break. So yeah, everybody knows.”

“She deserves better,��� was the only thing I could say to her. She just gives me a sigh and turns to go back inside to finish her game of pool with the other guys. I sit back on one of the chairs that are outside and look out into the sunset.

Trying to find a real reason why Beatrice would go for a guy like me. But also trying to think if she actually would be interested in me. 

So now, I’m sitting here thinking about the one person I can’t be with just yet.

(Back to your POV)

Chantal dropped me off at Aunt Penny’s house an hour ago, I’ve just finished getting out of the shower trying to get all of the glitter, seat, and hairspray off my body and just trying to unwind and maybe watch a movie with Aunt Penn and Amelia. 

But I realized I forgot to text Bradley back when I was at the club. 

He might think I don’t like him anymore. What?? STOP it, Bea?!?

So you decide to just skip the text and just call him. Within the second ring, he picked up the call. Your heart was beating so hard you thought he could hear it over the phone. 

“Hello pretty girl, what do I owe the pleasure this evening.” the nickname sent chills throughout your whole body, with little butterflies in your stomach.

You could only remember your mom calling you “Honeybee” and some other nicknames. But you could never remember the last time one of your boyfriends called you something. Especially Zeke.

You try and speak without letting out a whimper. “Oh, n-nothing. Just got out of the shower and lying in bed.” You may be imagining things, but it’s possible that you heard a groan on the other end. Your eyes widened a little bit when you finally remembered what you said a couple of seconds ago. But you try not to think about it too much and continue with your conversation with him. instead of not thinking about how you just made this guy get turned on.

“H-hey, I’m sorry I didn’t text you sooner. We had a busy night at the dinner.” You close your eyes, and feel a pool of guilt build up in your stomach.

I wish I wouldn’t lie to him. But this is the nicest guy I’ve met in a long time. I don’t want him flying for the hills when I tell him I’m an exotic dancer. I don’t want to lose him just yet so for now. Just put on a show like you normally do every other night.

“Oh, no worries Bea, I had some time to distract myself at the bar.” Another chill was sent through your spine, but not the fun, happy kind, the worried and a little bit jealous kind. 

I mean, you’re not even together, so it’s okay for him to flirt with other people. But for some reason, you don't want him to flirt with anyone else, you want him for only you-

“What I mean by distraction, I meant hanging out with my squad. So don’t worry about your pretty little head thinking I was with another girl. Okay?” 

You just give him a quiet “okay” and continue with your flirtatious conversation. Before you could say anything else he spoke up again,

“So, the squad wanted to go bowling this weekend, and I was wondering if you were free, you could come with. Maybe I can introduce you to the group?” 

There was a growing smirk on your face, “They can’t shut up about us, can they?” on the other end you heard him let out a hardy laugh, then that made you giggle. You hear him die down from your comment and hear them speak again. 

“Well, my friends would like to know who is taking up all my free time pretty girl.” You flop down back on the spare bed that Penny let you borrow, and just smile from ear to ear.

“Well, I’m working at the bar in the afternoon, but maybe we can all meet up there and make our way out? I’ll also try and see if some of my friends from the dinner would come to?” “Yeah, that sounds like a date. I’ll let you go and talk to ya later.” You both say your goodbyes and get off the call. The next second you start kicking your feet up in the air and scream into the pillow that was next to you. 

You try and collect yourself when you walk back downstairs to have a little movie night with Aunt Penny and Amelia, you gather all of the junk food that you can and pile it onto the coffee table.

When the movie started, Ames and I curled up next to Penny so that she was squished between the two of you with blankets all around you getting nice and warm.

When the movie is playing, your mind drifts back to your conversation with Bradley. You knew he didn’t me to say “It sounds like a date,” it might have just slipped out, and he probably might not remember saying that to you when you see him at the bar this weekend. But a part of you wanted to feel like he meant it. For real. You could only imagine what I would be like to date Bradley Bradshaw.

You could only Imagine.

Reblogs are always welcome. Unless you're under 18. I will block you. and comment if you want to be added to the taglist. If I forgot anybody message me and let me know. You will be added.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @shanimallina87 @angelbabyyy99 @callsign-magnolia @nerdgirljen

Once again dividers are by @saradika

[mads-nixon]

Epiphany Pt. 13: Forever Winter

Lewis Nixon x Reader

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: Forever Winter by Taylor Swift

A/N: this chapter was painful to write, and we're not even to the painful part yet...this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: With General Patton's forces breaking through the line in late December, Easy finally gets the supplies and gear it needs. Doc is able to take (y/n) to the aid station where she gets less-than-favorable news.

Warnings: mentions of injuries

DECEMBER 29TH, 1944: BOIS JACQUES, BELGIUM: 

On December 26th, Patton’s forces finally broke through the German lines, allowing crucial supplies to be delivered to the front. Easy received much-needed winter clothing–coats, scarves, winter caps–and essential supplies like ammunition, food, and medical provisions. Nix had to all but force (y/n) to go with Eugene to get her wrist proper medical attention. Doctors at the new aid station examined it and determined that she did indeed have a small break in her right wrist. They soon put a hard cast on it that went from her knuckles to her forearm and admitted her to the field hospital. 

After one night of being in the hospital, regardless of its warmth and cozy beds, her heart ached to be back with Easy. The men were her family, and being away from them in the lonely hospital, surrounded by agony and pain, made her want nothing more than to be with them again. 

(Y/n) quickly gathered her things and discreetly walked through the halls, pulling her coat securely over her cast to hide it from any hospital staff. She made her way to the front of the building and exited into the cold air. After being in the warmth of the hospital for a little while, the icy wind sent a shiver down her spine. 

“Back to reality,” she whispered to herself, attempting to pull a glove over her casted hand. Unable to stretch the glove over the cast, she groaned and put on her left one. As she was fishing through her pockets for a pair of her extra socks, a voice called out to her.

“Need a ride?” a man asked, sitting behind the wheel of a nearby jeep.

(Y/n) paused her movements and walked over to him, the freshly fallen snow crunching under her boots. “Yeah. Can you take me to the 506th?”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded, cranking up the jeep with a rumble. “Hop in.”

Quirking a smile, she got in quickly, checking behind her for doctors or nurses. “Thank you so much. I don’t think I could last another second in there.”

The man chuckled as he pressed on the gas, propelling them down the road. “Going AWOL?” 

“How’d you guess?” (y/n) replied, her eyebrow raised.

“Well, you do have a cast on your hand…”

“True, true,” she smirked, looking down at her hand. Suddenly, she remembered what she was doing when he had called out to her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out an extra pair of socks, sliding both onto her right hand in a makeshift glove.

(Y/n) sighed, wiggling her fingers. “God bless Skip Muck.”

He glanced over at her questioningly. “What’s that?”

“Oh,” she chuckled, sitting up in the seat. “It’s just something my friend says. ‘Feet, hands, neck, balls. Extra socks warms them all.’”

The laughter that bubbled from his lips was contagious, and (y/n) found herself wheezing as she joined in. “Your friend sure seems like a hoot…” the man grinned, dragging out his last word as if prompting for her name. 

“(Y/l/n). Corporal (y/n) (y/l/n),” she replied, a proud smile gracing her lips.

“Well, (y/l/n). Nice to meet ya. I’m PFC Jerry Barnes. It’s an honor to meet an Athena in person. I’ve only heard about y’all through the grapevine.”

“The honor’s mine. Otherwise, I’d be stuck in that dreadful hospital.”

They continued conversing for a little while until they came rumbling down to a stop amongst the trees of the Ardennes near Easy. 

“Here we are, ma’am,” Jerry remarked, nodding at her as he readjusted his helmet. “It was nice to meet you.”

(Y/n) got out of the jeep and pulled her M-1 back over her shoulder. “Likewise, Jerry. Thanks again!” she called, walking toward the line.

After a few minutes of hiking through the heavy snow, she found Captain Winters outside his foxhole talking to Lip, whose brow was creased as he spoke.

“I don’t know, sir. We haven’t seen him.”

Dick sighed, rubbing his cheek as he turned, hearing her approaching footsteps. “(Y/n), how’s the arm?” he asked, dismissing Lipton with a nod.

“Fine, sir,” she replied with a plastered smile, tugging at her right sleeve which had ridden up slightly.

His eyes caught the movement and he tilted his head, the corner of his lips downturned as his blue eyes stared at her in a disapproving glare. “(Y/n). What did the doctors say?”

“I’m alright,” she sighed, pulling off her sock glove and revealing the cast. “I want to go back with the guys, sir.”

Winters’ eyes widened at the bright white cast, and he shook his head. “(Y/n), go back to the aid station.”

“Sir, if I stay there the whole time I’ve got the cast, it’ll be a month, and a lot can happen in a month. I really would like to be here.”

His piercing eyes bore into hers for a few moments before a small smirk grew on his face.  “Go on,” he nodded, pointing to the cast. “But don’t let Nix come after me when he sees that.”

(Y/n) let out a breath and pulled the sock back on her hand. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“I don’t know where he is,” Dick started, burying his face into his scarf, “but I’ll let him know you’re back.” 

Grinning, she started to make her way to the boys, following the sound of their laughter that echoed through the woods. (Y/n) managed to make it to the outskirts of Easy’s foxholes when a familiar voice spoke behind her.

”Why aren’t you at the aid station?”

(Y/n) froze, her steps coming to a halt at the voice. She let out a small huff of air and turned around to see Lew. His face was void of emotion, but his glare was simmering with frustration.

“Because I didn’t need to be there,” she stated plainly, attempting to stay calm under his scrutinizing gaze. She’d never seen Lew angry before. Not like this.

He slowly took a few steps toward her, trying to conceal his emotions as he reached out for her wrist. “Show me your arm.”

Looking away, she ripped off the sock and held up her right arm. He took it gently, inspecting the cast. “I’m fine, Lew. Really.”

Nix scoffed under his breath, eyes unmoving from her wrist. “If you were fine, you wouldn’t ha-”

“What do you want me to do?” she cried, eyes narrowing as she ripped her arm from his grasp. “Stay there for a month until I get this off?”

Lew watched her for a moment, his teeth clenched. “(Y/n/n), I’m not saying that you have to stay there for a month, but-”

“But what? But what, Lewis? If anyone else goes AWOL, good for them, right? So why is it such a bad thing that I did, huh? Tell me that.”

His eyes hardened, hurt flashing through them momentarily. “This isn’t about anyone else. It’s about you. It’s about you being reckless. Do you even understand how dangerous this is?”

“Reckless? How am I being reckless?” she defended, her voice firm as she threw her hands up.

“You can’t just brush off a fractured wrist and go back to the line, (y/n),” Nix’s voice rose, betraying his anxiety. “You’re in a cast for crying out loud. You can’t hold a weapon correctly, you can’t carry heavy gear, and even simple tasks will be a struggle. You need to be realistic about this.”

“Lew, you just don’t get it!” (Y/n) exclaimed, her voice tinged with frustration.

His expression turned stern as he looked at her. “No, you don’t get it. You’re injured, and being out here, you’re putting yourself and everyone at risk.”

“I can’t just sit around in some aid station while the people I care about are out here,” she retorted, her tone defiant.

“Of course, you can’t,” he acknowledged. “But you can’t be out here with a broken wrist either. You’ll make it worse, and then you’ll really be useless.”

The word ‘useless’ hit her like a punch to the gut. Anger and hurt surged through her veins, and her face flushed red. “Useless? Is that what you think of me?”

“No, sweetheart, that’s not what I meant-,” he tried to backtrack after realizing the harsh words that had left his mouth.

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, Nixon!” she snapped, cutting him off. “If I’m that much of a burden, maybe I should just leave you be, then.”

Lew grabbed her arm, trying to make her understand. “That’s not what I think at all. You’re not a burden to anyone, especially not me. We need you here…I need you.”

(Y/n) shook her arm free, tears of frustration stinging her eyes. “You just said I’m useless. What am I supposed to believe?”

Nix sighed, his frustration mirroring hers. “I messed up and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. You’re not useless, but you’re hurt, and you need to be careful.”

“But you did say it, Lew. You said it,” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And I need to be careful? Careful so I don’t get in the way?”

“No, careful so you don’t hurt yourself more,” he said desperately, trying to choose his words more carefully. 

Her anger blazed into a wildfire as she sneered at him. “Right, because I’m so fragile.”

“That’s not what I meant. Please, (y/n), listen,” he pleaded.

She shook her head, the hurt and anger bubbling up her throat. “I can’t do this right now. I need some space.”

Without waiting for his response, she turned and stormed off, her heart pounding with a mix of emotions. She needed to be alone to process the argument and figure out how to get rid of the frustration and hurt that threatened to consume her. Lew watched her go, regret and worry gnawing at him, knowing he had let his worry for her safety come out in the wrong way.

(Y/n) furiously wiped away the stray tears that fell down her cheeks as she finally arrived at her foxhole. Skip, Luz, and Penkala stared up at her, worry evident in their gazes. 

“Please tell me you didn’t hear all that,” she whispered, her voice weak.

George nervously glanced at Skip, who was shaking his head. “Hear what?”

“Thank you,” she murmured as she settled down beside Skip, knowing they probably heard every word of the argument. “I missed you guys.”

“We missed you, too,” Skip smiled, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “Now what did the docs say?”

She held up her arm, pulling the sleeve back slowly. “Fractured.”

“Oh (y/n),” George winced, his face screwing up into a grimace. “How long do you have to wear it?”

“Supposedly four to six weeks,” the (y/h/c) replied, ”but we’ll see how long that lasts.”

“Did you go AWOL?” Skip asked from beside her. 

Alex rolled his eyes and smacked Muck’s hole-ridden helmet. “Of course she did, idiot. They wouldn’t let anyone back out here with a cast.”

“You’re dumber than I thought, Skip,” George laughed, taking a drag of his cigarette. 

JANUARY 3RD, 1945: BOIS JACQUES, BELGIUM

“I’m telling you, boys,” Bill Guarnere grumbled, his breath forming clouds in the frigid air. “We’re screwed.”

(Y/n) nodded her head at the statement, wrapping her coat even closer to her body as she sat in her foxhole beside Malarkey, Skip, Penkala, and Bill. The bitter chill of the January day seemed to penetrate every layer of clothing, and the memories that usually warmed her did nothing but chill her further. She hadn’t spoken to Lew since their argument, and she didn’t plan to. There was still so much to sort through in her mind.

Penkala scoffed. “If you ask me, I’m glad Lieutenant Dike’s never around.”

“Hey, you know what?” Malarkey chimed in, tucking his hands under his armpits. “We’re doing alright, even with Foxhole Norman.”

The group eyed him skeptically, and Bill was the first to voice the concern that hung in the air. “Yeah, Don, we’re doing alright. We’re doing alright now. In case you ain’t noticed, there’s a little town down the hill over there. And in that town are these guys called Germans. And these Germans got tanks,” he gritted, shivering as he sat on the edge of the hole. 

Don sighed, his gaze drifting to the frozen ground. “I know.”

“Yeah,” Guarnere continued. “And our side’s gonna wanna go into that town. You wanna take one guess who they’re gonna want to go knocking on the damn doors?”

“I know, Bill. It’s me you’re talking to here,” An irritated Don replied. 

He didn’t stop his tirade, much to Penkala’s amusement. He looked over at (y/n), expecting at least a smirk on her lips, but all he saw was a numb expression. The same one she’d had since she got back from the aid station. “Gosh, we’ve gotta do all this with a CO who’s got his head so far up his frickin’ ass that lump in his throat is his damn nose.”

Every word Bill said was true, and (y/n) found herself wishing they could have anyone else as their CO. When they’d arrived at their new position, Dike saw her without her helmet and about had a heart attack.

“You’re a woman,” he said, staring at her with wide eyes.

(Y/n) looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. “Yes, sir.”

“This is no place for a woman, doll.”

 “Were you not informed of the Athena program, sir?” she asked, her dislike for him growing by the second.

“Oh, um…yes. Carry on, ma’am.”

“It’s corporal, sir,” she corrected. “Corporal (y/l/n).”

His gaze shifted to something in the distance, and he began walking past her, shouldering his rifle with a yawn. “Ah, yes. Carry on, ma’am.”

The woman stared daggers at his back as he walked off, not to be seen for hours. No one knew where he went when he disappeared. He’d sometimes say he was needed at regiment HQ, but most of the time, he just wandered off.

“You know,” (y/n) began, looking over at Skip beside her. “He refuses to call me by my rank like everyone else. It’s always doll, sweetheart, or some other crap like that. I can’t stand it.”

“The dude’s a class-A idiot if you ask me. Good ole foxhole Norman,” Muck mused, the corner of his quivering lips quirking into a smirk. “He’s almost as bad as Sobel.”

“At least Sobel addressed me by my rank.”

“Hey 1st Sergeant,” Skip called over her shoulder where Lipton was approaching the group. 

Lip smiled, sitting next to Guarnere. “Hey, boys, and gal,” he replied. “Hey, Muck. What’s the word?”

“Oh, you know. Sitting around freezing our asses off,” he paused, smirking at (y/n). “Singing Dike’s praises.”

“Well, I’ll tell you. I wouldn’t wanna be a replacement officer coming in here, getting thrown in with a group of guys who’ve known each other for what? Two years?”

The group watched, soaking in his words. 

“That have been in combat together since Normandy. You’re supposed to just show up and lead them? How’s a guy do that? How could anyone really hope to gain the respect of the toughest, most professional, most dedicated sons-of-bitches in the entire ETO? Huh?”

‘Treat them with some respect,’ (y/n) thought to herself. Lip did make some sense, though, even if Dike himself was incompetent.

“So if you ask me, a guy’d have to march off to Berlin and come back with Hitler’s mustache or something.”

Bill was the first to laugh, his chuckle floating into the air, followed by the rest of the group. (Y/n) could picture it…Dike holding Hitler’s mustache, and it became the funniest thing she’d thought about in days, besides the Hinkle situation, of course. That was a classic that would never be topped. 

Carwood looked at her laughing face, a serious expression painting his own. “Anyway, listen. You guys don’t worry about Dike, alright?”

“Yeah,” they all murmured collectively, and (y/n) nodded, her laughter coming to an end.

“We all do our jobs, everything’ll be fine,” the sergeant finished, patting Bill’s leg before getting up and walking away.

“See ya, Sarge!” Muck called.

“Yeah, boy.”

As Lip walked away, they all pondered his words. Maybe they were holding Dike to an unreasonably high standard. Maybe they needed to lay off the man.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll ever respect Dike,” (y/n) began, staring up at the snow falling in the foxhole. “He’s going to get us killed.”

The group nodded in agreement, each becoming caught in their thoughts. In battle, there is no time to get lost in your mind: one’s sole objective is to survive. In a foxhole, however, there is little else you can do. The hours tick by as you stare ahead of you at the unchanging scenery, back and legs aching at your cramped position. In the silence, your inner monsters start to taunt you, poking and prodding at your mind like it's an animal in a cage, unable to defend itself from the constant attacks. 

Dick and Lew were bundled up under the cover of their makeshift foxhole, eating Joe Dominguez’s lukewarm, watery beans, each shivering as the Bastogne wind blew through them. The men were silent as they ate, their minds providing enough noise. They’d discussed their problem and lack of a solution with Lieutenant Dike, but Dick was itching to ask Lew a question that had been floating in his head for a few days. 

“Lew, what happened with (y/n)?” he asked quietly, watching his friend’s face fall.

Nix shook his head and put down his tin of beans. “I screwed up, Dick…big time. We got into an argument about her going AWOL with the cast. I was frustrated and worried, and I told her that she was useless.”

“Nix,” Dick groaned and sighed heavily, running a hand down his face. “How’d she react? Not good I’m guessing.”

“Yeah. She got so upset, Dick,” Lew whispered. “I could see how much it hurt her, and I tried to take it back, but it was too late.”

Winter’s looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Did you apologize?”

“Of course I did. But it didn’t change what I said. The damage had been done at that point.”

“Just give her time, Lew,” Dick murmured, laying a hand on the man’s shoulder. “She’s hurting right now. All you can do is let her know that you’re there for her, even if she doesn’t want to acknowledge it.”

“I’ve tried talking to her, but she just ignores me.”

“She’ll come around. I know it,” Winters nodded.

Staring at the XO with a smirk, Lew chuckled under his breath. “You know, for someone without any real experience in relationships, you give great advice, Dick.”

“What can I say? I’m a natural,” he grinned, shrugging his shoulders.

JANUARY 10th, 1945: BOIS JACQUES, BELGIUM: 

As the days ticked by, more and more of Easy Company were being sent off the line. Bill Guarnere and Joe Toye had both been hit in an artillery barrage a few days prior, and Buck was sent to the hospital with a bad case of ‘trench foot’…but everyone knew seeing Bill and Joe in their state had broken him.

Things between Lew and (y/n) were frosty as ever, even though he’d checked on her after hearing about Bill and Joe. She’d brushed him off with a simple, “I’m fine,” and that was the end of their conversation. His words had cut her deeply, and she just wasn’t ready to forgive him yet, even if he’d not meant it. In the week and a half since she’d returned from the aid station, she wished that she’d stayed there in the warmth of the hospital. 

(Y/n) cursed under her breath as the cast on her wrist felt like a vice, suffocating the limb. The unforgiving cold of the Ardennes and the wafting snow made the hard plaster even more uncomfortable. She couldn’t ignore the constant itch and the way it chafed against her skin.

With every movement, she was reminded of its presence. The worst part was the itch–a relentless, maddening itch that seemed to start deep within the cast. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t reach it. She tried to distract herself, focus on her duties, and push through the discomfort, but the itch persistently clawed at her sanity.

The constant snowfall only added to her torment. No matter how hard she tried to keep it dry, the wetness seeped into the cast, making it heavier and more awkward to move around. The moisture seemed to seep through her very bones, and the cast became a frigid, icy prison around her wrist.

0200 HOURS

The itch had invaded her dreams, tormenting her even in sleep. (Y/n) awoke with a start, her heart racing and wrist throbbing. The relentless itch had woken her from her restless slumber once again, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

In a desperate frenzy, she reached for anything within her reach and found a small stick lying nearby. With trembling hands, she carefully maneuvered the stick into her cast, trying to scratch the insufferable itch that seemed to have a life of its own. Each attempt brought a brief break, but it was never enough.

Feeling the stick hit her skin provided a fraction of relief, but it was short-lived. Her attempts to scratch the unreachable itch only seemed to intensify the desire to pry the cast off her arm. (Y/n) was willing to do anything to be free of this torment.

Frustration boiled within her as she tugged at the edges of the cast, desperate to find a way to escape its confining hold. Tears of pain and anger welled in her eyes as she pulled  at the cast with all her might.

“(Y/n)?” Skip asked sleepily, eyes fluttering open at her pained grunts and winces. “What’re you doing?”

“I can’t take it anymore, Skip,” she choked out. “This cast…it’s driving me insane.”

He seemed to fully wake up at the sight of her frantic eyes. “Hey, hey, hey. You’re alright,” he urged, pulling her left hand from the cast. “I know it’s tough, but you can’t take it off yourself. You could hurt yourself more.”

“But I need relief,” she pleases, tears leaking down her face. “I can’t stand it.

He knew this was long overdue with what happened with Captain Nixon. 

That day, as they conversed in the foxhole, the sound of a woman shouting floated through the air. All three of their heads snapped toward the sound, recognizing (y/n)’s voice. Silence filled the foxhole as they listened intently. Hearing his friend’s pained voice, George stood to his feet, prepared to find out what was going on, but he stopped at the appearance of another voice. 

“You’ll make it worse, and then you’ll really be useless.”

The boy’s mouths dropped at the statement, each of them coming to the realization that the voice belonged to Captain Nixon. A few moments passed as they looked at each other in disbelief. Although they couldn’t see the pair, they could only imagine what was going down in the distance.

“Useless? Is that what you think of me?”

“No, sweetheart, that’s not what I meant-,” 

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, Nixon! If I’m that much of a burden, maybe I should just leave you be, then.”

“I messed up and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. You’re not useless, but you’re hurt, and you need to be careful.”

“But you did say it, Lew. You said it. And I need to be careful? Careful so I don’t get in the way?”

“No, careful so you don’t hurt yourself more.” 

“Right, because I’m so fragile.”

“That’s not what I meant. Please, (y/n), listen.”

“I can’t do this right now. I need some space.”

A few moments later, George saw her appear in the distance, and he ducked back down into the foxhole. His eyes flicked between Skip and Alex who shared the same pain in their chest at the sight of (y/n) wiping tears from her face with her gloved hand.

“We didn’t hear anything,” Skip whispered, pointing his sock-covered hand at his friends. “Nothing.

As Skip looked down at the woman before him, his mind drifted back to his little sister, Ruth, and the many times he’d held her close as she cried. He loved her to pieces, and (y/n) reminded him of her more than he’d like to admit. Remembering what had worked with Ruth, he carefully wiped away her tears and pulled her to his side, allowing her to bury her face into his chest as he stroked her hair soothingly.

“I know, (y/n),” he murmured. “We’ll get you some help, I promise. But for now, you need to keep the cast on. Trust me.”

Reluctantly, she nodded against his chest, allowing his comforting presence to bring a sliver of calm to her anxiety-ridden mind. 

“Have I ever told you about my little sister, Ruth?” he whispered, looking at the stars above them. 

She shook her head against his chest. “No.”

“Ruth…she’s the light of my life. I love Faye more than I can even explain, but Ruth, she’s my baby sister and she means everything to me.”

(Y/n) listened to the steady thrum of his heart as he continued to talk, his chest rumbling with each word. 

“She’s only three years younger than me, so when we were kids, we basically did everything together. As we got older and I got different part-time jobs, I loved to take her out and spoil her. Our dad left us to travel the country and perform his music, so she didn’t have any man in her life besides me. I always made sure she knew how she was supposed to be treated.”

Her heart swelled, hearing the pure adoration in his voice as he spoke about his beloved sister. The itch seemed to fade slightly, her mind getting caught up in Skip’s story.

“Every dance we went to as teenagers, I would buy her a new dress, and she’d always iron my clothes just the way I liked them,” he paused, peering down at (y/n) with a smirk. “It may be hard to believe looking at me now, but I am usually very put-together.”

“You’re right,” (y/n) chuckled softly, her tears drying on her cheeks. “I can’t picture it.”

Rolling his eyes, Skip smiled at the ground. “I miss her so much. I can’t wait to give her a big hug after all this. I’m half-expecting Faye to ask her to be her maid of honor for the wedding.”

(Y/n) sat up, her eyes widening. “You proposed?”

“Not officially,” he shook his head. “But she knows I plan to the second I step foot in Tonawanda.”

“I better be invited,” she smirked, slouching against his side again, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

Skip squeezed her shoulder with a scoff. “I couldn’t imagine not inviting you, (y/n/n). You’re like my second little sister, even if you’re older than me.”

“And you’re all like brothers to me,” she yawned, eyes fluttering shut. “Love you,” she slurred, sleep finally welcoming her at last as she was held in the brotherly embrace of Skip Muck.

“I love you, too, squirt.”

Skip felt her breathing even out, and he sighed to himself. He’d be lying if her behavior didn’t worry him, but all he could do at the moment was keep her close and wait until morning to sort everything out. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the hard, frozen ground he’d used as a pillow for the past three weeks. For some reason, the cold didn’t seem to bother him as much as he drifted off to sleep. Ruth’s sweet smile and laugh replayed in his mind, and a lonesome tear trickled from his eye, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

A/N: all the things that Skip said about him and his sister are TRUE! their dad left them when they were young to be a traveling country musician, and Skip later got different part-time jobs to help his family any way he could. His favorite thing to do was spoil his little sister. my research didn't find the actual age difference between them, so I made the three-years thing up. Everything else is accurate, down to her ironing his pants just the way he liked. Surprisingly, his parents were German, so he actually spoke fluent German, as well, but kept that quiet during the war. I wish we got to learn more about Skip Muck on the show, so I decided to give a little snapshot of his life, regardless of how hard it was to write it knowing what happened to him. He deserves to be celebrated. He was a hero. All of them were.

Tag List: @softguarnere @mrsgeorgeluz @flowers-and-fichte @inglourious-imagines @peggyvan @rebeccapearson @hxad-ovxr-hxart @merriell-allesandro-shelton @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @titiglt @stvrkdream @multifandomfanfic @starlordsatellite @blvestxr @iceman-kazansky @bucky32557038ww2

message or comment if you want to be added to the tag!

[svcker4l0ve]

Rules of the requests

Stuff I WILL write for

All types of smut (little to none expectations), fluff, porn with plot, porn without plot, all types of readers (although male readers will be a bit harder for me but I will do it if I can), size difference, SMAU, headcannons, one-shots, texts,

Stuff I WILL NOT write for

Spit kink, abuse of any kind, self-harm, racism, homophobia, original characters, dying, incest, rape/non-con/pedophilia

Canon typical characters/people

I will try to write each character/person as canon/realistic to their person as possible

When requesting

When requesting something, you don’t absolutely have to go into major detail if you don’t want to (if you do, then by all means do), but please try not be vague about your requests, and please make sure to say who you want, and what type of story you want(i.e SMAU, headcanon, one-shot, texts) . I will try to get to as many as possible, but it will take some time, so please be patient.

Characters/people I write for

Supernatural

Majority of character- dean, sam, cas, jo, jody, rowena, crowley, michael, lucifer, gabriel, ect

Brigerton

Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Daphne, Eloise, francesca,  Penelope, prudence, phillipa, cressida, 

Anne with an E

Anne, gilbert, diana, ruby, jerry, billy andrews

Wednesday

Wednesday, Tyler, Xavier, enid, ajax, larissa, yoko, kent, divina

My life with the Walter boys

Alex, Cole, issac, lee, danny, jackie, 

Outer banks

JJ, John b, Sarah, Kiara, Pope, Cleo, Rafe, Topper, Barry, 

Fate: The winx saga

Bloom, stella, flora, terra, sky, aisha, riven, beatrix, musa, sam, dane, 

All fear street movies

Deena, josh, simon, kate, cindy, ziggy, young nick goode, sheila, joan, kurt, alice, tommy, sarah fier, hannah miller, solomon goode, 

All texas chainsaw movies

Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, chop top, drayton, heather miller/sawyer, 

It (1990 and 2017)

Richie, bill, mike, ben, stanley, eddie, beverly, pennywise

Friday the 13th

Mostly just jason, but if you would like to request another character from the franchise, then go ahead

Scream

Billy, stu, sidney, tatum, dewey, randy, gale, micky, roman, jill, charlie, richie, amber, ethan, kirby, quinn, sam, tara, chad, mindy, wes

Buffy the vampire slayer

Buffy, Angel, willow, spike, Cordelia

My Babysitter’s a vampire

Ethan, Benny, Rory, Sarah, Erica, Jessie

Chilling adventures of Sabrina

Sabrina spellman, Harvey kinkle, Nick scratch, Ambrose spellman, Roz walker, Theo putnam, Prudence blackwood, Dorcas Night, Agatha Night, Hilda spellman, Zelda spellman

Avengers

Bucky barnes, Steve rogers, Tony stark, Natasha romonoff(romanov), bruce banner, thor odinson, sam wilson, wanda maximoff, pietro maximoff, clint barton, vision, Peter Parker, T’challa, Stephen strange, Scott Lang

Fantastic four

Susuan, johnnie, reed, ben

X-men

Peter maximoff, logan howlett, ororo monroe, jean gray, scott summers, kurt wagner, Lorna dane, victor creed, rogue(anne marie), alex summers, Remy lebeau, andy strucker, lauren strucker, marcos diaz, john proudstar, Blink(clarice fong), Hank mccoy

Dc

Bruce wayne, clark kent, dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne-al ghul, Diana Prince, Oliver queen, barry allen, Garfield logan, raven (rachel roth)

Other slashers

Freddy Kruger, Bo sinclair, lester sinclair, Vincent sinclair, art the clown, michael myers, Tom hanniger(2009), daniel robitaille(candyman), chucky ray, Tiffany Valentine-ray, 

REAL PEOPLE

Formula One

Lando norris, Max verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Oscar piastri, Lewis hamilton, Liam Lawson, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Riccardo, Yuki Tsunoda, Isack Hadjar, Alex Albon, Kimi Antonelli, Esteban Ocon, Fernando Alonso, Gabriel Bortoleto, George Russel, Jack Doohan, Lance stroll, Nico Hulkenburg, Nico Roseberg, Ollie Bearman, Pierre Gasly, Sebastian vettel, Jenson Button, 

[daggerspare-standingby]

Great Balls Of Fire

Just a quick little one shot that's been buzzing around in my brain for a while, and no reason to post it until today (10/28/22) when I heard that Jerry Lee Lewis (original singer of Great Balls Of Fire) passed away today. Thought this would be appropriate, please be kind! First TG post :)

Please enjoy a one shot of Rooster x Girlfriend!Reader

a bit of fluff, a bit of angst (see Mav) for missing the OG Bradshaws (Carole & Goose) but mostly fluff :)

*

It was a Friday night, and you were working the bar of the Hard Deck as per usual, your boyfriend and his teammates hanging out by the pool tables and dart boards until the end of your shift when you would join them. Conversation hummed throughout the bar, accompanied with the vintage vinyl playing from the jukebox. Penny was chatting with Maverick on the other end of the bar, and you poured another glass of draught for a regular customer. As you turned around to ring through the sale, you heard a chorus of groans sound throughout the bar as the Jukebox was unplugged - again - and there was really only one culprit that could be to blame.

Bradley took his place at the piano, having waited closer to the end of your shift to start playing just in case Penny decided to throw him out for being a little shit. He tinkled a few of the higher octave keys before settling down on the bench and then he started his usual song. Despite the smile growing on your face as his voice rang out the first few words of the verse, you did have to roll your eyes. This song was constantly on repeat in your boyfriend's brain, he said it brought him closer to his dad when he played it. You couldn't fault him that, wishing that you could have met Nick and Carole Bradshaw before you started dating.

Come On Baby! You're Driving me Crazy

The entire bar broke out with him for the chorus - because nobody but Bradley knew the actual words to every verse.

Goodness Gracious Great Balls of Fire!

Watching your boyfriend eating up the attention, you couldn't help but admire him from your place behind the wooden bar. He looked so good, sun kissed from his day outside, curls lightened but in a fluffy mop on the top of his head - one that you loved to run your fingers through - and aviator sunglasses, the pair that you learned were his dad's which was why they constantly slid down his narrow nose, midway down the bridge of his nose as he bobbed his head to the song he sang and played. Rooster looked so good in this moment, in the limelight. He was always so charismatic, his voice, that straight smile, and that damn 80s style moustache that worked so well for him. His gravelly voice as he sang the "that feels good baby" made shivers automatically run down your spine and goosebumps rise on your arms and a heat pool in the pit of your stomach. Yup - it was time to get your man home.

He was smiling as he sang along, his friends and co workers singing along as well; all except Hangman because Jake was just too cool to sing along to Great Balls Of Fire for the umpteenth time that month. You did catch him tapping his foot to the beat though as he sipped his beer and smirked, making a mental note to tease him about it later. Checking the big clock above the door to the bar, you saw it was just a couple minutes to the end of your shift, you looked over at Penny, asking her silently if you could clock out with a nod towards Rooster at the piano to which she simply nodded and waved you off.

Just as he was finishing the song you untied your apron and tucked it under the bar, coming around the opening you bit your lip - you'd never done this before and it was going to either go very well, or very poorly. "Hey Rooster, you big stud!" you raised your voice slightly to be above the music, enjoying the way his head automatically shot up, a grin gracing his features.

You also didn't miss the way that Maverick's head also turned on a swivel as you repeated one of the favourite phrases of one very special Carole Bradshaw. Rooster smiles at you from the piano "That's me honey!" echoing the words that Goose and Carole once said to each other, Maverick stared at you both in shock from his seat at the bar. Tears lining his eyes as he watched the scene play out in front of him; remembering back to a four year old Bradley perched atop a very similar piano, Goose playing the exact same tune and Carole moving to sit atop his lap and join him in the very last chorus.

"Take me to bed or lose me forever!" Your eyes locked on Rooster as you walked over to him and he quickly maneuvered an arm around your waist to pull you into his lap while not missing a beat of the final verse of the song "Show me the way home honey!" He played the final notes of Great Balls of Fire with a flourish and then pulled you in for a steamy kiss, moustache tickling your upper lip and warm hands pressed around your waist. He stood up quickly almost knocking you over as he moved to slip your hand into his and twine your fingers together "Penny, I'll settle up tomorrow! Gotta take my girl home!" Penny shook her head laughing and waved a towel at the two of you as you were dragged out of the bar.

Despite hearing the song every night, sometimes multiple times a day, Rooster would never stop singing it. Not only did it bring him closer to his dad, but as long as he knew how much it would turn you on when he performed it, he'd sing it to the end of his days.

[morgandr]

Imagine:

Dean Martin & Jerry Lewis fighting over you.

——————————————————————————-

(NOT MY GIF!)

(Dean Martin & Jerry Lewis X Reader)

——————————————————————————-

(TAGS)

[technicolor-times]

Hey everyone! Just wanted to let you all know that My askbox is open for fic requests of Dean and Jerry , although , I won’t be writing anything where Dean and Jerry are involved romantically with eachother just Dean x reader or Jerry x reader requests please! I love writing about them and it brings me a lot of joy to write fics or short stories for anyone who would like one! Just lmk if you want Dean or Jerry and if you have any prompt ideas for what you’d like your fic to be about

Hope to get some requests soon!

-Anesha

[lokis-army-77]

Would you write a fluff and mildly smutty Bradley Bradshaw imagine of his wife throwing him a surprise birthday party at the Hard Deck with a Hawaiian shirt theme (and she obviously wears one of his/his dads) and Rooster and her get interrupted when they sneak off?

Birthday Dessert

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Word Count: 1799

The reader has thrown her husband, Bradley, a surprise birthday party. When he sees her in one of his shirts, all he really wants is to have her out of it, but in the midst of a steamy makeout session, they are interrupted.

Warning: No real smut, they just take their shirts off. There is an 11-year age gap.

Inbox is open

Masterlist (Taglist linked here)

I was running around the Hard Deck like a chicken with its head cut off. Everything had to be perfect, the decorations, food, drinks, hell, even the music. This party had to be perfect, one because it was a surprise and two because it’s not every day your husband turns forty. 

All of the guests had arrived at the bar around ten minutes ago, all decked out in their Hawaiian shirts. The only person who wasn’t here was Bradley or Rooster as everyone else referred to him as. 

The only thing that stopped my hectic scrambling was a pair of slender hands on my shoulders. I turned to see who was stopping me in the middle of my preparations. Penny Benjamin or I guess Mitchell now since she and Pete got married almost four months ago. 

“Sweetheart, you need to calm down. Everything looks just fine, he’ll love it.” She smiled, her words calm.

“But what if-” 

“Nope,” she cut me off. “It looks great. Everything is in its place and everyone is here. There is nothing more for you to worry about other than getting Rooster here without him suspecting anything. Okay?” 

I nodded and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Honestly, I have never thrown a surprise birthday party and it was definitely putting me on edge. 

“Thanks, Penny.” I gave her hands a squeeze once she had lowered them from my shoulders. 

“Anytime kid.” 

I shook my head and laughed, “You know I’m twenty-nine right?” 

“Still a kid to me. After all, I’ve known you since you were in diapers.” She waved me off as she walked over to where Pete stood talking to some of the younger navy air pilots. 

Barely had I taken a step over to the group when my cellphone started playing the familiar Jerry Lee Lewis song I had set as Bradley’s ringtone. My eyes widened as I took the phone from my back pocket. 

“Everyone, quiet!” I yelled, grabbing the attention of the group. “He’s calling,” 

With a flick of a stray piece of hair from my face, I picked up the call. 

“Hey babydoll, where are you?” His voice sounded gruff over the speaker.

“Hey baby, I’m at the Hard Deck remember? Penny needed help cleaning for that private event she had going on tonight.” 

“Oh right. Well, I’m headed home from the shop cause the damn engine to the plane still won't start.” 

“I’m sorry, I know you were looking forward to taking it out. I’ll tell you what, Penny and I are almost done so why don’t you come and pick me up, then we can go home together.” I crossed my fingers, hoping he wouldn’t see through my suggestion. 

“Sure, I’ll be there in ten.” 

“Alrighty, see you then. Love you.” I couldn’t help the smile forming on my face. 

“Love you to babydoll. Mwah.” He made a kissing sound.

“Mwah,” I repeated back to him before hearing the line click off. 

Turning back to everyone, I threw my hands up and said, “He’ll be here in ten so everyone get into your places.” 

I quickly ran around making some last, last-minute adjustments and slipped on the Hawaiian shirt of Bradley’s I stole from his side of the closet this morning. 

Everyone quieted down as soon as we heard the sound of Bradley’s blue Ford Bronco entering the gravel parking lot. I smiled wide when his humming of a song met my ears. He was so close to the door, I bit my lip in anticipation. 

We were all crouched down on the other side of the bar, hiding from sight when he came into the bar. His humming stopped and so did his footsteps. 

“Uh… Babe?” He called.

Then all jumped up yelling, “SUPRISE!” 

Bradley jumped back, face full of shock. I giggled as I ran over to him, practically jumping into his arms.

“Happy birthday baby.” I kissed him deeply on the lips. His large hands held me close, not letting me pull my body away from his. 

I felt his lips pull into a smile as he whispered in my ear, “Thank you, Babydoll, but you almost gave me a heart attack.” He kissed my temple and let go of me.

“Oh right, I forgot, you’re an old man now.” I gave him a small pat on his shoulder. “Now, go mingle with your friends.” I went to step away so that we could go and grab some drinks.

“Hold on a second.” I turned to him, he had his eyebrow raised hoe he usually did when he was thinking. “Is that my shirt?” His hand went from my wrist, up to my arm, and then to the sleeve, fingers fiddling with the hem.

“Maybe.” 

“Well, you look a hell of a lot better in it than I do.” Then he leaned back into my ear, smirking. “Would look even better if it were on the floor.” 

I shook my head, blushing, and hit his arm. “Stop it.” 

He only laughed before he went on his way, going to talk to a group of his Navy friends. I went back to getting us something to drink behind the bar. 

An hour later, everyone was now loosened up and karaoke had started up. I thankfully got away from singing, unnoticed, by going to the kitchen. Bradley’s cake had been in the fridge since I had picked it up and I needed to put the candles on it. 

When I walked through the door, I flipped the back set of lights closest to the fridge. The buzz of the fluorescent bulbs barely drowned out the god-awful singing I think belonged to Phoenix. A small chuckle left my lips at her rendition of Jesse’s Girl.

The cake was on the middle shelf, just where I had placed it earlier. My hands reached out for it carefully, not wanting anything to happen to it. But that carefulness turned into flailing limbs when a pair of arms snagged me around the waist, pulling me away from the fridge. 

“What are you doing back here all alone? Hum?” Bradley asked into my neck. His breath warmed my skin. 

“Shit, baby, don’t do that, you scared the crap out of me.” my hands came to rest over his as he swayed us around. 

“Sorry Babydoll didn’t mean to.” 

“S’okay.” I turned around in his arms and leaned up on my tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his lips, giggling when his mustache tickled my nose.

“I meant what I said earlier, that shirt would look damn good on the floor.” His hands started to mischievously wrap around my hips and gave a small squeeze to my ass. 

“Uhuh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you. We are in a bar and there are like 30 of our closest friends and family out there, that is not happening.” 

“What? I didn’t say anything.” He feined office.

“You didn’t have to Bradley. I have known you my whole life and four of those years I have spent married to you. I know what you want.” I crossed my arms as best I could sense he was still holding onto me.

“Come one, please, it is my birthday.” He pleaded and to make matters worse, he started to kiss up and down my neck. “You wouldn’t refuse a birthday wish, no would you?”

I shook my head, determined to not give in, even though I really wanted to. This was no place to be fooling around, but in true Bradley fashion, he didn’t stop.

“God, you can be so infuriating, you know that?” I groaned out, hands going to his hair. To pull his face from my neck and back to my lips. “Fine,” I said, “But if we get caught, I am killing you, I don’t care that it’s your birthday.”

“I love you so much.” He went straight into kissing me, lifting me up and securing my legs around his hips before setting me down on the counter beside us. 

Once he was sure I was seated comfortably, his fingers went to the hem of the white tank top I was wearing under the Hawaiian shirt. He pulled it up, taking my bra with it, so now the two articles of clothing were resting on my chest. The warmness of his hands made me shiver as they came to rest on my breasts. 

My hands, while he explored my body, started to tear at his own shirt. “Off,” I mumbled between kisses and he listened, in an instant, the shirts were on the counter next to us. I traced the ripples of tones muscle under tanned skin and sighed contently as his tongue came into play in our kiss. 

He groaned into my mouth a couple of times when I pulled him in closer, the skin of our bodies molding together. Pulling away, I looked lovingly into his brown eyes. “Touch me.” 

That was all I had to say for him to hurriedly try and clasp my jeans. He had almost had the zipper down when the double doors to the kitchen opened, causing us to both go frigidly still. My breath caught in my lungs and Bradley looked up over my shoulder like a puppy caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. 

“I was going to ask what’s for dessert, but it seems Rooster has already started.” The voice broke the awkward silence with an even more awkward sentence. 

“Get the fuck out of here Hangman,” Bradley seethed out. 

All I could think was, “Oh god, it was Jake who found us. Now everyone’s gonna know.” My hands came to move my bra and tank top back down before covering my face in embarrassment. 

“I am going to kill you when we get home.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Bradley laughed.

“This isn’t funny.” I backhanded his shoulder as he slipped both his shirts back on. 

“It kinda is.” He shrugged, a smirk etched on his face. 

“We’ll see if you think it is when I don’t let you have a piece of your birthday cake.” I jumped off the counter, going for the fridge. 

“Wait a minute. You can’t do that.” He whined.

“You wanna bet?” I pulled the cake out and started to place the four and zero candles next to each other on the counter. “Go back out there and let me get this set up.” I pushed him to the doors. 

“Okay, okay.” He waved me off of him. “I really am sorry babydoll.” He gave me a quick kiss on the lips before sauntering his way back into the bar. 

“God, we are never gonna live this down.” I shook my head and went back to the cake to put the candles on and light them.

Miles Taglist: @n3ssm0nique @babyhoneystvles @xelizabethvalentinex

[oncasette]

rooster on cassette

bradley bradshaw x gn!reader

summary: six songs and how they relate to your relationship with rooster, drabble/head canon style

warnings: innuendos/sexual implications

masterlist | taglist

GREAT BALLS OF FIRE - jerry lee lewis

i’ve changed my mind, this love is fine

goodness gracious, great balls of fire

ok, ok. this one is obvious but i had to add it. everyone knows he plays it at the bar all the time. it’s his signature. and it’s one of three songs he can actually play on the piano. but! ladies man rooster let’s you—makes you—sit on the bench next to him as he plays. and, eventually, you learn enough of the chords that you can play the song together. 

“c’mon, baby. gotta please the crowd,” he says as he pulls the piano bench out for you. you know what song he’s gonna play without him telling you. it’s his go to. even if he knows how to play “piano man” and “old time rock & roll,” you know he won’t play them with the bar as crowded as it is.

your thighs are always touching, and sometimes one of yours gets tossed over his and you’re practically sitting on his lap in the middle of the crowd surrounding you. and you just get to sit and stare at him with your massive heart eyes as he sings. he’ll do that silly little dance when he gets done every time, pulling you up to join him after he’s completed his victory lap. 

“kiss me, baby,” he half-sings, pouting his lips for you to smack one on him. he even does the “oooh, that feels good” bit in between the kiss you give him and the kiss he inevitably drags you into seconds later. 

and he’s grumbling ten minutes later when he’s forced to plug the jukebox in, because he can’t bare to be away from you that long. but the grumbling doesn’t last long, when you agree to follow him over there (dramatic, bud) and pick out a new song for the two of you to dance to. 

brad mumble sings the silly love song as he presses himself fully against you. He’s always a little touchier after he gets done singing, and you never ask, but you know it’s got something to do with his dad. you’d seen the way maverick had reacted that one time, and you were just glad bradley was letting you in enough to include you in it. 

ADDICTED TO LOVE - robert palmer 

it’s closer to the truth to say you can’t get enough

you know you’re gonna have to face it, you’re addicted to love

windows down in the bronco, screaming both of your hearts out to this song. he’s got his free hand running up and down your thigh and his aviators perched on the edge of your nose. 

you’d somehow convinced him to go to the farmer’s market with you that morning. well, not somehow. you’d had to bribe him with your sundress. but! you got him out and to the car in time to make it to the farmer’s market at a decent hour, before it closed or got too unbearably hot. 

He’s got one–of the two total playlists he has on his phone–playing over the aux as he drives, only the beginning chords of this song have got him cranking up the stereo to the point that you can feel the bass in the seat beneath you. it’s the playlist he’d made for your road trip last summer, seeing as the other one is the one he’d made for your ‘getting in on’ time, as he so eloquently put it. 

“sounds like you, huh,” he says, referring to robert palmer’s love-sick descriptions. your heart sweats, your body shakes. another kiss is what it takes. 

“hm?” you ask in response, never having really paid attention to the lyrics in the past, save from the chorus. you adjust in your seat, allowing the still-rising sun to hit your skin at a better angle. 

“think he’s saying you’re addicted to me.”

“don’t be stupid.”

“so i’m wrong?” god, you hate him and his stupid little smirk. it’s even worse so early in the morning, with the sky still brewing in its haze. he looks so good here, like this.

“no… but you don’t have to be so cocky about it. it’s unbecoming, bradley.”  

“oh, you’re right, baby. sorry, won’t be cocky,” he assures you, gently squeezing the thigh still in his grip. you can smell the lies dripping off his tongue. 

ROOSTER - alice in chains

here they come to snuff the rooster

yeah, here come the rooster, yeah 

i feel like roos would listen to this unironically, like all the time. bradley’s #1, most played song of all time. always on his spotify wrapped in some way, which means you’re stuck listening to it more often than not, as well. 

brad’s got this on in the bathroom late one morning, one of his off days. he’s got you seated on the bathroom counter, in between the double sinks with his razor in your hand. 

“don’t butcher me up too bad, baby,” he says as you slather the shaving cream across his cheeks. you’re careful to avoid his lips and stache region, knowing he’ll trim that on his own with the clipper you gifted him for christmas. 

“wouldn’t dream of it, handsome.”

“handsome, hm? might make you shave me all the time if you’re gonna be so nice,” he says as he lifts his head to give you access to his neck. 

“stop talking. i’m scared i’m gonna cut you,” you say as you eye his bobbing adam’s apple. 

“yes, ma’am.”

as soon as you’re done—like, the second the towel you’re using to clean him up is no longer covering his mouth—he’s replaying the song and putting his aviators on to serenade you in your ensuite. to a song about his callsign. full dips and lyrics mouthed along your jaw serenaded, too.

I’M ON FIRE - bruce springsteen

i got a bad desire

oh, oh, oh, i’m on fire 

a slow dance in the kitchen song at its finest. two am,

just got home from the bar. neither of you are drunk, just buzzed and happy and really craving popcorn for some reason. 

it’s your phone this time since you always got aux in his car on nights out and your trip home had cut mr. springsteen short. it’s left on the island as you rummage around in the pantry with bradley wrapped around your back. it seriously limits your mobility, but he’s too warm for you to even think about asking him to get off. 

his popcorn—the movie theater butter kind—is hidden on the top shelf which forces brad to reach over you and grab the snack he’d hidden himself.

he backs the two of you up the foot it takes to reach the microwave, only giving into his cravings long enough to let you put the damn thing in, before he’s pulling you further against him to sway slightly. 

“love you.” it’s mumbled into the nape of your neck, neatly trimmed mustache hairs tickling your hairline.

it’s gentle, at first, just barely moving your hips in sync. but he’s spinning you around not long after and intertwining one pair of your hands together so that he can–clumsily–lead you through the single ballroom dance he learned in eighth grade etiquette class. 

“i love you, too,” you hum just moments before the song ends and the microwave goes off.

FOOTLOOSE - kenny loggins 

you can fly if you’d only cut loose, footloose

kick off your sunday shoes

this is on the list only partially because miles is in footloose. ok totally, but it’s a secret, don’t tell anybody.

you make him watch footloose. (both. yes the remake exists in this timeline, shh). and as much as bradley claims to hate it, he can’t deny how much he actually loves watching it with you. it’s a watch at least every three months, alternating between the two versions. 

“you’d be a good willard, i think,” you say during one of your viewings. 

“you think?” 

“oh, yeah. I know you can boogie, baby.” he tosses a piece of popcorn at you in retaliation. 

(he so definitely surprises you with the end dance at your wedding. like i’m absolutely sure about this). 

BIG BALLS - ac/dc

everybody says i’ve got

great balls of fire 

bradley has fifth grader humor and thinks this song is peak. comedy. to him. best friend is snorting like every other line.

brad has got this playing on the nightstand one night after he’d gotten home a tad later than usual. not that he ever stopped playing it, if you were being honest. 

but this particular night, he’s a little gigglier than usual. he’s still in his towel, hair wet and dripping down his face as he climbs up on the bed to lean over you. 

“god, brad. you’re worse than the dog,” you whine at the feel of the newly cold sheets. He ignore you, though, too focused on the innuendos spewing from the speaker. 

“it’s my belief that my big balls should be held every night,” he whisper sings before he’s tucking his face into your tummy in a half-assed attempt to hide his laughter, dampening the gray cotton of your t-shirt and darkening it. 

“gross!” you scoff, joining in on his laughter out of habit, as you push his head up off of you. 

“hey, bon scott said it, not me,” he says as he leans in with the most obnoxiously puckered lips you’d ever seen. 

“you’re disgusting. vile,” you punctuate your statement with a gagging sound, only to meet his lips halfway in a peck.

“you love me, baby,” he says. and you hate how right he is.

tags-- @zeldaknight @ridestomars @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

[lunarfleur]

60’s songs you and the outsiders would listen to

This is x gender neutral reader!

Darrel Curtis

Unchained Melody-The Righteous Brothers

We belong together-Ritchie Valens

Everybody loves somebody -Dean Martin

Sodapop Curtis

Sleepwalk-Santo & Johnny

All I have to do is dream-The Everly Brothers

Ain’t no mountain high enough-Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell

Ponyboy Curtis

Here comes the sun-The Beatles

Sugar Sugar-The Archies

Suspicious minds-Elvis Presley

Dallas Winston

A teenager’s romance-Ricky Nelson

On the rebound-Floyd Cramer

Since I don’t have you-The Skyliners

Johnny Cade

Put your head on my shoulder-Paul Ankah

Can’t take my eyes off you-Frankie Valli

Who’s lovin you-The Jackson 5

Steve Randle

Wild one-Jerry Lee Lewis

Mystery train-Elvis Presley

Rocket 88-Ike Turner

Two-bit Mathews

My girl-the temptations

Hey! Baby-Bruce Channel

Surfer girl-The Beach Boys

Tim Shepard

Leader of the pack-The Shangri-las

Daydream believer-The Monkees

Oh, pretty woman-Roy Orbinson

Curly Shepard

Love me tender-Elvis Presley

My boyfriend’s back-The Angels

I’ll never find another you-The Seekers

This was really difficult wtf

[crazyk-imagine]

Play a Tune

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Assistant!Wolfe!Reader, Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Natasha “Phoenix” Trace (implied)

Characters: Assistant!Wolfe! Reader, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Robert "Bob" Floyd, Reuben "Payback" Fitch, Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia, Javy "Coyote" Machado, Neil "Omaha" Vikander, Billy "Fritz" Avalone, Callie "Halo" Bassett, Brigham "Harvard" Lennox, Logan "Yale" Lee, Penny Benjamin

Briefly mentioned: Nick “Goose” Bradshaw, Carole Bradshaw, Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe

Warnings: SMUT, P n V, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, teasing, Bradley calling the reader a brat (more than once), he also really REALLY likes his name (some might say it’s a name kink), fluff, singing, Bob is reader’s bestie, Pete gets deja vu, shameless Hangman and Phoenix longing for each other tease, only Coyote knows about their feelings, mentions of papa Goose and papa Wolfman, there’s a lot to unpack here

Word Count: 9,843

Playlist for PAT: We Are the Champions by Queen

Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis

Footloose by Kenny Rogers

A/N: I didn’t plan on making this a smutty one but then before I knew it, it was. I have no regrets

*Reader is Wolfman’s daughter and technically has “two” call signs, (Mave and Wolfman were close after TG and all the competing and Goose’s death. Reader easily became Mave’s fav out of the four of you [your two brothers and sister, who are also in or have been to TG]. Mave always took you with him whenever he was out working on whatever and you two were always singing hence Harmony). Howler is reader’s official call sign, courtesy of her pop’s and because if it was a good mission she’ll howl in victory

*We all know Maverick is Rooster’s surrogate dad, but he doesn’t want to replace Goose, so he chose to be the “Uncle” figure

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

You fall back onto the piano bench, messing up his classic go to song. You push yourself up, cringing at the sound of the wrong piano keys being played. You turn to Bradley, “sorry.” 

He smiles and shakes his head. 

You spin around, “you mind if I try something?” 

He says nothing, gesturing for you to go for it. You nod, fingers gliding along the keys, a familiar tune enters the bar. 

-

Bob takes notice of how more than half the bar moves closer to your side, close to crowding the piano. A smile stretches across his lips, he’s the only one who knows. 

-

I’ve paid my dues 

Your voice drifts through Bradley’s ears. 

Time after time 

It’s you. 

You’re the one who gets the entire bar involved… better than he ever could. 

Everyone’s heard you play before but, he was one of the few who were never lucky enough to put a face to the voice. 

I’ve done my sentence 

But committed no crime 

He’s brought out of his thoughts by the whole bar singing. He notices the nodding of your head; he turns and starts playing beside you. 

And bad mistakes

I’ve made a few 

He joins in.

A gentle smile dances cross your lips 

I've had my share of sand

Kicked in my face

But I've come through

The two of you sing. 

And we mean to go on and on and on and on 

You glance over your shoulder, “come on everybody. I see some familiar faces and I know you know this song.” 

Bradley shakes his head; a smile manages to stretch across his lips. He sometimes forgets how fun it can be at the Hard Deck. 

We are the champions, my friends

The customers at the bar sing in sync. 

And we'll keep on fighting till the end

We are the champions

We are the champions 

-

Bob glances over at Natasha and Mickey (who aren’t paying attention to him, focusing on the way you make the crowd move in sync in a way none of the others have ever seen done as smooth as this before). 

The snacker shrugs heading over towards his friend. He stands beside the piano, too nervous to chime in. 

-

No time for losers 

'Cause we are the champions of the World 

You glance up to find the nervous man standing there, you offer him a smile, hoping to ease his nerves. 

Bob would rarely join in when it was the two of you or just you doing something just like this. He's always been more of a “I’ll watch a few people do it before I join in”. It’s gotten better over the years but there are times where he’s still that shy young man you met a few years ago… like now. He hesitantly smiles back, fiddling with his glasses. 

Bradley takes over, letting you move away from the bench. 

You grab Bob’s hand, pulling him closer so he can stand in front of the seat, you stand on now. You place your hands on his shoulders, forcing him to sway side to side until he starts doing it on his own. 

The customers in the bar follow along and sway with the two of you. 

The man with a mustache (whose name you still don’t know) lowers his voice, letting yours (and Bob’s) overpower his. 

I've taken my bows 

And my curtain calls 

You glance over at the other pilots and point 

You brought me fame and fortune 

And everything that goes with it

I thank you all 

You wave them over with a smile. 

-

Mickey and Billy are the first to run over, standing on either side of Bob, the former doing his best not to stand in front of their fellow pilot. 

But it's been no bed of roses 

Neil and Callie stand beside Billy (who’s on Bob’s right). 

No pleasure cruise

 I consider it a challenge before 

The human race 

And I ain't gonna lose 

You gesture for the other customers to quiet down, giving the pilots and WSO’s time to shine. 

And we mean to go on and on and on and on 

Logan shoves Reuben and Bringham in your direction. 

We are the champions, my friends

And we'll keep on fighting till the end

We are the champions 

We are the champions 

Javy drags Jake closer to the piano, pointing to the blond when you all sing 

No time for losers 

Jake shoves Javy away from him with a small smile. 

'Cause we are the champions of the World 

A wide smile stretches across your lips as you raise your arms, wanting to hear everyone again. 

We are the champions, my friends 

The beautiful sound of her bar’s loyal customers singing your usual tune brings a smile to her face and Penny can’t help but join in. 

And we'll keep on fighting till the end 

We are the champions 

We are the champions 

You move Bob over to the one side of the piano, beside the kid with the buzzcut. You glance around, noticing how the other pilots you’ve seen here on numerous occasions now surround the piano. 

No time for losers 

'Cause we are the champions of the world 

You turn around, spreading your arms and fall back. 

Those in front of piano seat catch you, carefully setting you down. They kind of expected this because this is the way you usually end whenever you’re on the piano. 

You smile to those who caught you, “I thank you all.” 

-

You practically hop back over to the man with a mustache, plopping down beside him. “Hi.” 

He turns, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “hi.” 

“You ever gonna take those things off?” 

“’Fraid not. Gotta have some mystery, right?” 

You pretend to think about it, “I think not.” You lean over, gingerly snatching them off him, placing them on your head. “Ah ah,” you swat his hand. “You’ll get these beauties back after we get to know each other.” You stick your hand out for a handshake, “deal?” 

Now it’s his turn to pretend to think about it. He shrugs, “I guess.” 

You blink once, twice; a shiver runs down your spine as he lifts your hand closer to him. “Oh, you’re gonna be trouble for me, aren’t you?” 

He stares up at you through his lashes, his mustache tickling the back of your hand when he removes his lips to talk to you. “Do you want me to be?” 

“You answer my question with a question. Oh, yeah, you’re trouble.” 

“You wanna play another song?” 

“Maybe later,” you pat his shoulder, standing up. You lean against him, whispering, “how about a dance instead?” 

He says nothing. 

“You’ll get your aviators back,” you say in a sing song tone. 

He can’t lie, he’s intrigued and has been since he first heard you and the fact that you didn’t just call them sunglass like every other girl who’s chatted him up… interesting. “One dance?” 

“One dance,” you confirm with a nod. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, sweetheart.” He turns, his dashing chestnut eyes searching yours only to find mischief. 

“Oh, honey, you don’t know what you’re in for.” 

Bradley narrows his eyes ever so slightly, “I’ll give you something to remember later.” 

You lean in closer, your nose bumping against his letting him think you were going to kiss him before you lean down closer to his ear, “I’m counting on it.” You step back, walking away knowing that he’ll follow (and if not, you’re catching up with Bob for the rest of the evening). You’re not even halfway across the room when you’re pulled back. You place your free hand on his chest as you set your other on his shoulder. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.” 

He raises a brow, “sounds like someone’s a little full of themselves.” 

You shrug, “what can I say? I got my dad’s genes.” 

“I see.” 

“No, you really don’t.” 

“Maybe. Maybe not. That’s why I gotta talk to you, get to know you, right? So, I can know if that’s true or not.” 

You click your tongue, “you’re learning.” 

He smirks, pulling back spinning you around once before pulling you back into his arms, your back against his chest. “Think you can handle this?” 

“Oh, I know I can, the question, can you, pilot?” 

A breathless chuckle escapes him. “You know what I do.” 

“Affirmative.” 

“And yet, I still don’t know a thing about you.” 

“In due time. In due time.” He hums. 

Before you know it, you’re being spun around again, this time you laugh, finding yourself letting loose. 

You spin around, bumping into someone, aiming to quickly apologize until you look up. “Maverick!” 

“Harmony, you’re here?” 

“Sure, looks like it.” 

“Still giving me lip I see.” 

“Don’t give me that look. You know you’re happy to see me.” 

He sighs, “can’t say that I am.” 

You scoff, shoving his shoulder. 

Pete glances over your shoulder, finding Bradley getting closer. He uses his eyes to gesture to you. 

Bradley clenches his jaw, shaking his head. 

“You forgot this at Penny’s yesterday.” Pete holds your father hat in his hands. 

You take it with a smile, removing the aviators and switching it for something a little homier. 

“I see you two finally met,” says Pete, glancing between the two of you. 

“We who?” You ask. 

“You and Bradley.” 

“Bradley?” 

“Bradshaw.” 

“Oh. Oh.” You stare at the young man with wide eyes, until you change the subject. You lift the aviators up for him to see, “now you’re definitely not getting these back, Bradshaw.” 

His jaw drops, “now hang on a minute-” 

“You still owe me a dance,” you place your hand on his chest, trying to push him back towards the jukebox. 

He doesn’t budge. “I did dance with you.” 

“Oh, no you didn’t.” You walk around him, holding his wrist guiding him towards the jukebox while you hook the aviators onto the collar of your shirt. “I want a full dance with the one who sings, “you shake my nerves, and you rattle my brain-” 

“too much love drives a man insane.” 

A smile dances across your lips, you look over your shoulder, “atta boy. You’re gettin’ it now.” 

-

You push the number to get the song you want to play. He half expected you to play his song but raises a brow at the song of choice instead. You see the look he’s giving you, “don’t judge me, Bradley.” 

It takes him a second to respond. “I’m not- I’m not just- uh- find your song of choice interesting. That’s all.” 

“Liar.” You let go of his wrist, standing in the middle of the bar.

Been working so hard I’m punching my card 

Bradley’s fellow pilots look at you in confusion until three other customers stand beside you dancing with you. The pilot interested in you sucks in his bottom lip to keep from smiling more. 

Eight hours, for what? 

Oh, tell me what I got 

Bob joins you. 

I gotten this feeling 

That time's just holding me down 

Now that he thinks about it, you and Bob are pretty close. Have you two met before? Bradley knows Bob has a friend that should be coming to town… soon? 

I'll hit the ceiling 

Or else I'll tear up this town 

He musters all the courage that he could to stand in front of you, following your steps. 

You smile at him, “glad to see you could join us.” 

“You’re about to be more even more surprised.” 

Tonight, I gotta cut loose, footloose

Kick off your Sunday shoes 

The mustached man sneaks his way beside you, holding his hand out for you. 

Please, Louise 

Pull me up off my knees 

Jack, get back 

C'mon, before we crack 

You slap your hand onto his open palm, letting him pull you close. 

Lose your blues 

Everybody cut footloose 

Jake leans closer to Javy whispering, “how is it that he can get the one interesting girl in this place?” 

“I don’t think that’s who you’re thinking of.” The cocky pilot jerks his head back, “what?” 

His friend raises a brow and tilts his head. 

He knows who Javy is talking about, but he doesn’t want to admit it. He gulps seeing Natasha smiling, watching as the bar becomes even more livelier than before… maybe this could be his chance to ask her out talk to her? 

Dig way down in your heart 

You're burning, yearning for some 

Somebody to tell you

That life ain't passing you by 

The music seems to disappear as you feel your hat being stolen off your head only to find that he’s wearing it. 

You don’t comment on it. 

He places your hands on his shoulders, letting you wrap your hands around his neck, thumb brushing against the edge of the hair on the back of his neck. 

-

Pete settles in a seat in front of his dearest Penny; his eyes wander around the bar, curious to see who’s here tonight and finds the two of you enjoying yourselves. 

A sad smile tugs at the corners of his lips, nostalgia hits him hard in his heart and clouds his mind with those precious and irreplaceable memories. He always hoped knew, he knew Bradley would find himself a good woman but seeing you two reminds him so much of Nick and Carole. 

The boy, now a man, certainly gained his confidence and flirting from his dad (Pete never quite knew how Carole accepted the dork he called a best friend, but anyone could see the love they shared so it didn’t matter). And tonight, he can see that flame being reignited with the two of you. 

Pete shakes his head, taking a sip of his drink wondering how his nephew is gonna be able to handle you. 

Wolfman was… a lot to some but still a damn good RIO (obviously since he was in Top Gun) overall your dad was an interesting man. He always found it funny when you didn’t quite go for the same route your dad did, but Pete and Leonard are proud of you non the less. 

-

“I can see the wheels turning in your head. What are you thinking about?” asks Bradley. 

“How you seem to pull of that hat better than me.” 

He huffs out a chuckle, “I don’t think that’s possible, but I’ll take the compliment. Now, stand right here.” He reaches for the aviators, slowly pulling off and out of your shirt, setting them on your head like you did earlier. “Now, we both look good.” 

“Is this the type of claim that a dog has when it pees on a tree?” 

He stares at you with a confused expression as he laughs at your comment before calming down. “I’m not gonna lie and say I’d be happy to see you dancing with another person.” 

You stare at him through your lashes, “then we’re in agreement?”

He nods, “seems we are.” 

“We’re dance partners.” “We’re together.” 

You tilt your head, “if we’re together, I don’t know because someone didn’t ask.”  

He squints his eyes, thinking back to everything that’s happened tonight. “Seems like you’re right… how about this, we continue our dance and I take you out on a date, a proper one. We can talk and get away from all this.” 

You know he’s mainly referring to the crowd. “As long as we can trade back.” 

He sucks in air through his teeth, “I don’t know, I think I look good right now.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “cocky pilots.” 

He smirks, leaning down to whisper, “you have yet to find out how cocky I can be.” 

You scoff, turning your head to the side, unable to take his “flirting” at this current moment. “You’re so gonna be trouble for me.” 

He shakes his head, unwrapping your arms from him. 

You open your mouth to ask him what’s going on, you’re walking towards the register settling your tabs. “Brad-” 

He shushes you, “this is a pre-date to our actual date.” 

“Pre-date?” 

“Just keep quiet while I take care of you.” 

You narrow your eyes at the bar top, mimicking him under your breath. 

-

Pete chuckles, finding the situation amusing reminding him of when Nick was just beginning to woo Carole.

You hear him and make your way over to him. “Why didn’t you tell me he was such a- a-” 

“Such a?” Pete asks with a smirk, finding this whole thing hilarious. 

“A punk.” 

The laugh that was waiting to escape gets caught in his throat. “That’s one way to describe him.” 

“I mean, I know I’m no saint but jeez, am I that bad?” 

“You? No. No,” he shakes his head. “…Maybe a little but it’s okay.” 

You shove his shoulder, “you’re supposed to be nice to me.” 

“You wanted an honest answer.” 

“I never asked for an honest answer.” 

“I thought it was implied.” 

“You thought-” You narrow your eyes at him, “you’re an evil, evil man, Maverick.”

He lets out a hearty chuckle, “oh, my call sign. I’m in trouble now, aren’t I?” 

Bradley wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back. He leans down to whisper, “I gotta talk to Mav for sec, you mind talkin’ to Penny in the meantime?” 

You turn your head, tilting it up to look at him, “you just don’t want me to ease drop on your boy talk, huh?” 

There’s that smirk he’s come to know and have a very strong liking to. “Humor me, won’t you?” 

“Fine, fine. Have your boy talk.” You wave him off, detaching yourself from him. 

“It’s not boy talk, that sounds weird.” 

“You’re the one that said it first,” you argue. 

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. 

“See now with the way you’re silent. I win.” 

He scoffs, shaking his head. “No, no, you really don’t.” 

“Oh, but I do, Bradshaw.” 

He slaps his hand over his heart, “oh, last name. You wound me.” 

“You’ll get over it.” 

He shakes his head, watching you lean over the counter, talking to Penny before turning to Pete. Bradley leans over, giving Pete a side hug, whispering, “I’m takin’ her out on a proper date.” His uncle gives him a smile, nodding, “you treat her right, okay?” 

“Of course, I am. What kind of man do you take me for, huh?” Pete shakes his head, “I’m just trying to warn you. You mess with her; you’ll be in for a world of hurt. Her words, not mine.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just doing what you said.” 

“Oh, yeah and what’s that?” 

“Don’t think.” 

The smile falls from his face. 

“Bradley-” 

“How can I think about anything when it feels so right.” 

It feels like he’s been sent back to youth, that nostalgic feeling has returned. Pete shakes his head that smile from before slowly creeps back onto his lips. “You two have fun, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Later old man,” you say, stealing Bradley away from him.

-

He watches as the two of you leave. 

Penny steps closer, leaning down so he can hear her. “You, okay?” 

Pete whirls his head around to look at her, “yeah. Never been better, Penny.” 

“What’s that smile for?” 

“Nothing, nothing just uh- thinking about the past.” 

“Is that a good thing?” 

One corner of his lips tugs upwards, “yeah, definitely a good thing.” 

-

“Come on,” he groans. 

“I am not as fast as you Bradley, give me a-” your cut off by your own screech when you’re thrown over his shoulder. You use one hand to push yourself up and the other to hold the aviators. 

You look up and find Bob dancing with one of the nicer, less rowdy girls you’ve noticed come into the bar once or twice. Your eyes wander around the room, trying to catch anyone’s attention to “help” you, only to find Natasha dancing with Jake. You’ve got a wide smile stretching across your face not only because those two idiots finally did something about the tension between them but also because you’re about to earn half, if not all the bet money. 

The last few verses of the sang play as the door closes. 

Everybody cut, everybody cut 

Everybody cut, everybody cut 

Everybody cut, everybody cut

(Everybody) everybody cut footloose

Your feet are finally on the ground again. You huff, smacking his arm. 

“What was that for?” He whines, rubbing his arm. 

“Don’t you have any manners.” 

“Manners?” 

“If you’re gonna toss someone over your shoulders like a sack of potatoes, you should at least have the decency to ask first.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I wanted to get out of the one place that wouldn’t let me hear your beautiful voice.” 

You throw a fake glare in his direction as you cross your arms, careful not to break the aviators you hooked onto the collar of your shirt again. “Don’t try to sweet talk me now, Bradshaw. You’ve already got my attention.” 

“I do, don’t I?” 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know, it doesn’t look good on you.” 

“That’s rude, sweetheart.” 

“Tell me where your takin’ me.” 

“I don’t know if I want to take you anywhere now.” 

“Oh, now you-” you groan, “must you be such a pain in my ass.” 

“I don’t about that. I mean unless you’re into that kind of thing,” he winks at you. 

You throw your head back, laughing. “You just don’t stop, do you?” 

“Nope. Guess you were right. You do have your hands full with me.” 

You bite your lip to prevent you from smiling more but fail. “Take me away or lose your one chance to talk to me.” 

“Get in the car.” 

“Bossy.” 

A smack fills the air. 

You glance over your shoulder, mouth agape. 

“Don’t talk back to me,” he says as if that excuses him from smacking your ass. 

“You are not the boss of me, mister.” 

He hums, “that’s what you think.” 

You roll your eyes, ready to open the door when he beats you to it. You stare at him for a second. “So, you can be a gentleman?” 

“Who says I’m not?” 

“No one. No one.” 

He hops into the driver’s seat, shutting the door. “If I let you choose the music, will I regret it?” 

You shake your head, “no… but something tells me with the way you dress, we’ll be fine.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks with a curious tone. 

“Your style is a little outdated compared to everyone else but, I think it suits you.” You snatch your hat off his head, placing it onto its rightful place. 

“That hardly seems fair.” 

“What does?” 

“The fact that you got your hat back and I don’t have my aviators.” 

You let out a quiet huh. “Guess you’re right. Turn towards me.” 

He turns, you carefully set the glasses on him, staring at him once they’re on him. “What is it?” asks Bradley. 

“You look very…” you peck his lips, “handsome.” You pull back, leaning into the seat, waiting for him to drive. 

He turns his head towards you, “again, that hardly seems fair.” 

“What does?” 

“You got the first kiss and here I was being all cute, waiting for the right time. Shame,” he shakes his head, further adding to the joke. 

The corners of your lips tilt up ever so slightly, one side off to the side; you scoot closer to the middle console, placing your hand on his thigh. “Oh, darlin’ we’ll be doing a lot more than what we’ve been doing tonight.” 

Bradley shakes his head, “will we now?” 

You tilt your head to the side, resting it on the seat, “that all depends on you,” you pat his thigh. 

He starts the car, pulling out of the parking lot, “promises, promises.” 

You lift your hand off his thigh. 

He stops you from taking your hand off him and sets it back on his thigh, letting his hand weigh down on yours. 

“That will be fulfilled.” 

He hums, “don’t temp me.” 

“Oh,” you shake your head, “I would never.” 

The drive is nice; it’s quiet, the wind blowing through your hair as you keep one hand on your head to prevent you from losing your hat. “Where we going?” you ask. 

He doesn’t say anything for a second. 

You cut him off before he can even answer. “Do you feel that?” 

“Feel what?” 

“Is it- is it raining?” 

“What? No.” 

Not even five minutes later, it’s pouring. 

You ask him if he knows where the closest supermarket in your neighborhood is, which he does, you direct him to your house after he passes the store’s parking lot. 

-

You two run out of the car, you hurry to open the door. 

“Come on. Open it, open it.” 

“I am trying,” you hiss at him. 

“Okay… could you try to open it faster?” 

“I am this close,” you pinch your fingers, “to leaving you out here.” 

“Your fingers are touching,” he points out. 

“Exactly, so don’t temp me.” 

“Don’t be like that.” You open the door, shoving your hand onto his chest, “ah ah.” 

“What?” 

“You were nothing but mean to me when I was rushing to open the door. That’s very rude of you, you know.” 

“I’ll make it up to you when my clothes aren’t sticking to me.” 

“Promises, promises.” 

“That I intend to fulfill.” 

You stare at him with a blank expression, turning around, walking further into the house. “Take off your shoes, you’re not tracking anything into my place.” 

He’s quick to enter, doing as you asked. 

You walk back into the hallway, holding out a towel for him which he happily takes. 

“So, you- uh- you live here alone?” 

“Usually, yeah.” You flip your hair over, placing the towel on the back of your head, wrapping it. You flip your head up, holding the towel to make sure it doesn’t fall off your head. You blow out a breath of air, finding him staring at you. “What?” 

He shrugs, “nothing. So, you’re usually here alone?” 

“Yeah, just depends on if my brothers or sister gets deployed in town.” 

“Okay.” 

“I guess you could call it a family frat house.” 

He chuckles. “Is it still a frat house if your sister stays here.” 

“Probably not but we don’t need to go into the specifics… Do you want to shower or eat first?” 

“I’m fi-” 

“Don’t tell me that. C’mon, we’ve been at the bar for hours with little to no food and if you tell me that you’re not starving I’m gonna tell you that you’re full of shit and force you to eat something.”  

“Alright, alright. I- uh- can I shower first?” He asks with a low tone, sounding almost like he was nervous. 

“Follow me. I’m sure I can find something my brothers left behind that you can borrow.”

-

You bend down checking the bottom dresser drawers for sweatpants (your brothers never wear anything but comfy, pajama like things around the house). You move up grabbing a shirt and a pair of boxers. “All of this is clean, I promise. I buy new stuff a few days before any of them come over, so all of this is new.” 

“I’d just be happy with a towel if you had nothing.” 

“I’m sure you would.” 

Neither of you say anything but the way your pupils dilate tells the other all they need to know. 

“Alright, bathrooms in the room just open that one there,” you point to it. “And you’ll be all set. I’ve got to do a couple things since the rain’s getting heavier. Will you be fine on your own?” 

He gives you a small smile, “I’ll be fine. The question is, will you?” 

“Ten minutes away from you?” You place the back of your hand on your forehead, “whatever will I do without seeing your pornstache’?” 

“Hey, hey, don’t hate on the stache’.” 

Your hand falls off your forehead; you state at him with a serious expression. “Oh, believe me. I’m not.” 

-

“Have fun. Just know if you’re in there for too long I’ll know what you’re doing,” you shout from the hallway. 

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” 

“Thinking about me a little too hard.” 

Bradley looks down, realizing that you did see the bulge in his shorts. His top lips curls in annoyance, this is not how he wanted you to see him… at least, right now. 

-

You make sure all the windows and doors are locked and closed properly before looking around your kitchen hoping to find something good to make that’ll fill your belly’s. 

You sigh, removing the towel from your head opting to clip up your hair. You turn your phone on, searching for the music app, playing your most recently played playlist leaving it on the counter away from the area you’ll be using. 

You aren’t paying too much attention to the sounds of the water from the shower, aiming to not think about a wet… naked… Bradley. 

And, your mind is straying, you return your focus to the food in the pan. 

Your soul leaves your body, and you lose your breath when Bradley wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you further into his embrace. “Smells good.” 

“I sure as hell hope so since you just scared the living daylights out of me.” 

“You look fine to me.” 

You open your mouth to respond when he adds on. “No, you don’t fine- I mean you do, don’t get me wrong you do but, fine isn’t the right word I’d use. There are too many that could be used to describe you right now, but I can’t pick one.” 

“Suck up. Okay, here’s the plan. I'm gonna put the lid back on, let this cook on low while you stay here or watch something in the living room so I can go take a shower.” 

“Okay,” he pecks your lips, letting you go. 

You run out of the kitchen, stopping in the doorway of your room, realizing how relationshipy that was and how it brings butterflies to your stomach as you think about how much you liked it… and him. 

-

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. “Hey.” 

“Yeah?” 

“You, okay in there?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

“You’ve been in here for a while, I was wondering if you were okay.” 

There he goes being a sweetheart. 

“I was just enjoying the hot water a little too much, I guess. I’ll be out in a few alright?” 

“Okay.” 

-

“Oh, you’re still here.” You clench the top of your towel tighter, unsure of what to do with your hands. 

“Yeah.” He pushes himself off your bed, standing in front of you. 

Your eyes follow his every move.

Bradley bends his head, leaning into you; his eyes switching back and forth between yours, “is this, okay?” 

“Depends.” 

“Depends on what?” 

“How far are you willing to go?” 

“How far are you?” 

You take a step forward, placing a hand on his forearm will your unoccupied hand plays with the hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Because I know what I want to do.” 

“What’s that?” 

“I want to take my time with you, watch you unravel as I make you feels thing no other guy has ever made you feel.” 

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself," you tease. 

"It might be," he leans in, resting his forehead on yours, staring into your eyes as if he’s trying to get a glimpse of your soul. “But it’d be worth it if I got to spend the night with you.” 

“I must be pretty special then, huh? Out of all the ladies at the bar, the Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw wants to have his way with little ol’ me.” 

“You seemed like the only one who’d put up with my ass.” 

“More like I’d be the only one daring enough to do all that I could with it.” 

“Careful there, sounds like you might be insinuating something you might not mean.” 

“But we both know I mean it.” 

“We do.” 

“Stop talking and kiss me,” you breathe out. 

He cups your cheeks, pulling you closer as he invades more of your space. 

You open your mouth, letting his tongue pass your lips, mingling with yours. You feel the cold wall against your back. A low whine comes from the back of your throat. 

He pulls back, smiling as he brushes his thumb against your cheekbone. 

“Guess you like to be a little rough when you’re with a girl, huh?” 

“What do you mean?” He asks between the kisses he makes (of course, leaving a hickey or three for all to see) as he trails down your neck. 

“You could have easily spun me around towards the bed.” 

His breath fans across the place where your neck and shoulder meet as he chuckles. “You complaining?” 

“Oh, no. Definitely not.” 

“Good.” He moves away from your collarbone, moving up so he can kiss you again. 

Suddenly you slap his shoulders. 

He jerks back, staring at you with wide eyes and terrified expression. “What? What? Are you okay? Should we stop?” 

“Oh, we are not stopping.” 

“Then why did you hit me?” 

“The food.” 

“I turned it off before I came up here.” 

You scoff through your nose, “so, you did plan on seducing me?” 

“No, no. No, I didn’t. I actually wanted to talk but then you came out wearing this surprisingly,” his hands travel down, landing on your hips, “soft towel and- and-” 

“You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” 

“Yes!” spills out of his mouth before he can think. He pauses his movements, realizing what he said. “No, I mean no. Now you’re just twisting my words.” 

“You’re spouting the truth without my help, darlin’.” Your hands slid across his shoulders, moving down onto his chest. “Why are you wearing your shirt? I put this in the dryer, so it was dry and for you to have something of your own to wear.” 

His mustache twitches as he fights the urge to smirk. “I wanted it to be fair.” He hands travels down further, fingertips brushing against your thigh near the edge of the towel. “I mean I have something to rip off you, I thought you’d like to do the same thing to me but,” he extends the word. “Since I seem to be wrong,” he pulls away to take off his shirt, “I’ll just get rid of it myse-” 

You rip the shirt open, buttons ripping off flying across the room, bouncing off walls, falling to the floor. You glide your hands along the top of his shoulders, getting your hands underneath the shirt so you can shove it off him. 

The shirt falls into the crease of his elbows. His hands are on your waist again. 

“Take it off.” 

“So bossy,” he says with a teasing tone. 

“Says the one doing the teasing.” 

“Me? If anything, I’m doing the persuading.” 

“Is that how you see it?” 

He nods. 

“Well then it seems like you’ll be working hard all night long.” 

“Someone is very confident in themselves.” 

You scoff, “like you haven’t thought about it.” 

“Why would I go and do a thing like that?” 

“Because you’re a horndog and don’t know how to handle me,” you finish with an “innocent” smile stretching across your lips. 

Bradley’s eyes darken, he leans in. 

You find yourself leaning in without realizing it. 

“You’re gonna regret saying that baby.” His hand grips the back of your neck, holding you in place. 

You gulp whatever saliva was in your mouth, at the thought of what’s about to happen. “Am I?” 

He steps to the side, guiding you towards the bed. “Just can’t be quiet for one second, can you?” 

You try not to focus on the heat building up in your core, instead, you enjoy the feeling of his bare chest against your towel covered body. You hiss as the cold air hits your body; you know your nipples are harder than they were just a second ago. “Could’ve given a girl a little warning,” you grumble. 

He moves closer to you, one hand on your stomach, holding you tight against him. He leans his head down to whisper, “I thought you didn’t want me to be nice. I thought you said, you expected me to be rough with the way I moved you to the wall instead of the bed.” 

You don’t say anything. 

“Did I finally stump you? You have no comeback now? Aw,” he mocks you. 

“Shut up.” 

“There she is.” 

“You keep talking like that I’m leaving.” 

He picks you up, tossing you onto the bed, crawling over you. He gives you a cheeky smile as he hovers above you. “I don’t think you want to.” 

“Maybe not,” you reach down for his belt without removing your gaze from his. 

His stomach clenches as your fingernails scrap against his skin. 

“Or maybe I’m trying to annoy to the point you’ll fuck the brat out of me.” 

A shaky breath slips through his lips, he glances down, observing your moving hands. His head snaps back up to you, he cracks a smile. “Well, now that I know you’re plan. I’m not gonna do that.” 

“Or maybe I’m pulling some reverse psychology shit.” 

He crawls off you, removing the last piece of clothing he has on. 

You scoot up, resting on the pillows as you watch his every move. 

“Either way you’ll be left with a smile on your face.”

His hand wraps around your ankle, he jerks your body closer to him as he climbs onto the bed. He’s on his knees, heels digging into his calves. 

You can feel his hard on pressed against your warm core. You roll your hips, tired of the waiting and the talking. “Come on,” you whine. 

He shakes his head, grip tightening on your hips as he holds his breath. 

You can see the veins forming along the sides of his neck; you can’t help but wonder- “do you have a veiny dick?” 

He chokes out a laugh. “What?” 

“You’re holding your breath and I can see them on the side of your neck,” you reach up, brushing your finger over it. 

He shivers, “okay, you can stop now.” 

“Maybe I don’t want to.” 

“You will if you know what’s good for you.” You stick your tongue out at him. 

He tuts, shaking his head. “You have no shame, do you?” 

“Seems like it but, that’s what drew you to me,” you throw a wink in his direction. 

He doesn’t look back at you as he trails kisses along the base of your neck, being sure to focus on the area where your neck and shoulder meet then moving along your collarbone. 

You scratch the back of his head as he does so, needing to keep your hands occupied. 

“Someone’s greedy.” 

He says nothing as he fondles your chest, kneading one breast while he leaves hickies and sucks on the other one; he takes his time giving each breast the same amount of attention.

You don’t want to move, in any way that would let him know how much he’s affecting you right now, but your body and your brain aren’t in sync. You roll your hips; quiet cries escape you. 

He almost doesn’t hear them, but you can tell by the air huffing out of his nose onto your skin that he finds it amusing. 

You could care less as he moves back down you, kissing the sides of your body. 

His mustache tickles as he leaves hungry kisses against your ribs, sucking on your skin, leaving a hickey or two (that’ll definitely stays on you for a couple of weeks). 

This results in your body jerking, curling into itself. 

He stops, resting on his knees as he caresses your leg. “Hey, now. If you want to feel good, you’ll stop.” 

“But I already feel so good.” 

“Don’t give me those fake doh eyes, sweetheart,” his face is less than an inch from yours, “because we both know I can make you feel really good.” 

You lift your leg up onto his hip, heel barely digging into the flesh of his curvy bottom. “And that’s exactly why I’m riling you up.” 

He shakes his head, letting your leg fall of him. The hair on his lip continues to tickle you as he nips at the inside of your thighs. 

You huff, curling your fingers in his hair, tugging on it. 

He groans, the vibration of the noise makes you smirk. 

You know exactly how to rile ‘em up. 

“You sure you’re alright with all of this?” He asks as he stares at your glistening bare slit. 

You’re too into your thoughts, feeling cocky to notice Bradley’s movements. 

Your jaw drops open. You look down, his head pops up. “Why?” You whine. 

“You weren’t paying attention,” he says with a serious tone even though your wetness shines on his lips and in the hairs of his mustache. 

“So, that means you play with me to get my attention?” 

“Yeah.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, “I’m so close to leaving you high and dry.” 

“I think it’s the other way around, sweetheart.” 

“You are such a-” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, the taste of you mingling with your shared saliva as his tongue enters your mouth. 

You move one hand towards his side, poking him hard. 

“Ow.” 

“Don’t cut me off like that then.” 

“I thought you wanted me to treat you like the brat you are.” 

You gasp, partly because of what he said but also because of his fingertip slowly entering you. 

“I can try and tame the brat in you, but I want to make sure you can enjoy it, yeah?” 

You give him a mumbled response, nodding your head. 

“I’m gonna need you to open your eyes for me.” 

Your eyes snap open, you didn’t realize you’d shut them in the first place. 

He leans down to whisper in your ear, “you ready to start enjoying the night?” 

You clench around his fingers in response. 

“Just remember you asked for it.” He doesn’t stop moving his fingers in and out of your core, oh no, he would never do such a thing. 

You fight the urge to close your eyes, wanting to see how he looks going down on you. 

Bradley swipes at your buzzing bundle. 

You jerk, head bobbing forward. 

He does it a few more times before he starts sucking on your clit and doing a “come hither” motion with his fingers. 

You can’t say anything, can’t tell him how good it feels with him doing- whatever it is he’s doing, your mind is fuzzy as he continues. 

He switches from sucking on your bundle to licking it.

He is the least bit relentless as he speeds up the pace of which his fingers are moving at. 

You cry out, hips rolling and thrusting against him; it’s hard to stop when you feel so good, so good and you let him know. “So good. So good.” 

He lifts his head, thumb rubbing your clit so he can talk, “knew I’d get the brat out of you so you can be good for me.” 

You open your eyes, staring at the ceiling, a shaky chuckle comes out before you can say anything. “Believe-” you moan, “believe me you didn’t, hon- honey.” 

“Guess that means I gotta try harder.” 

You smile, closing your eyes, “yeah.” Your head snaps up, staring at the devilish, hunk of a man, “wait- what?” 

He speeds up the pace, his fingers hammering in and out of you so fast you don’t know what to do. 

Your thighs are shaking almost closing in on him but with his one hand on your thigh, keeping you spread for him prevents his erotic death from happening. “Oh. Oh. Oh my god. Oh my god.” 

“My name’s not God, sweetheart.” 

A throaty moan comes out as your answer. “Shut- shut up.” 

“Say my name and you’ll be a happy girl.” 

You can feel yourself getting closer. 

“Say it.” 

“Brad-” you moan as he speeds up his pace even more, sucking on your buzzing bundle again. How is it possible for him to go this fast and not get a wrist or finger cramp? Why are you thinking about that right now? “Oh. Oh. Brad- ohhh- Brad-” is all that slips off your tongue. 

He moves away from your heat with a pop, you groan in annoyance. 

Your hands clench the sheets between your hands, not wanting to rip his hair out (because boy, oh boy, does he make you feel like a winner). 

“Come on, sweetheart. Just a few more letters.” 

You throw your head back, mouth agape wanting to say more but with the way your body tingles, it doesn’t happen. 

Bradley’s hand sneaks its way up your torso, playing with your gorgeous tits for a few minutes; tugging and pulling at your nipples, wanting to make you feel good (and his touch everywhere) right now until he can properly have his way with you. 

You can feel his hand on your neck, and you know he can feel the way your pulse increases at this motion. 

He doesn’t stop there though, he grips your jaw with one hand, forcing your head down clearly wanting you to look at him. 

Your eyes snap open, dilated pupils hiding your natural eye color. 

His ego skyrockets at the sight of your fucked out expression even though he’s barely done anything to you. 

“You say my name one time right now and I’ll reward you for being such a patient brat. How’s that sound?” 

You nod; you would give him anything he asked for at this moment if it meant you could cum. He slips his fingers into your mouth. 

“Say it.” 

You stare at him with pleading eyes and what seems to be a (pathetic) confused expression as you suck on his fingers. 

“Say. It.” 

You moan, your vibrations sending a wave of confidence and horny through him. 

“Say it and you’ll get what you want.” 

You shake your head. 

He sighs, removing himself from you. 

“Wh-” you try to say only to find yourself face first into your sheets, “woah!”

The movements of him behind you tells you that you’re about to enjoy yourself. 

His hands are on your waist, pulling you up closer. He lines himself up against you; you arch your back, hips rolling against him. He bends down, “all you had to do was say one simple word, but you couldn’t even do that.” 

You scoff, dropping back down onto the mattress, “whatever.” You nibble on your bottom lip, waiting to see what he’s going to do next. 

Bradley smacks your ass, chuckling at your surprised yelp. He grips your hips, forcing the lower half of your body off the bed and onto his lap. He releases one your hips, rubbing his stiff, covered cock against your core. “You still good? You with me?” 

“How can I not be when you’ve barely done anything?” 

“Just remembered you asked for it.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He slowly slides in, not wanting to hurt you (or blow his load too soon). His hips snap against yours, you lurch forward, unsure of how to balance yourself having never been this full before. 

You pray this never has to end until he pulls out, leaving his dripping, latex covered cock in you before he hammers into you once more. You rest your forehead against your arm, hands clenching the sheets and he continues to take you higher and higher on a euphoric level. 

The only noises in the room are skin slapping against, his quiet groans and the quiet gasps that escape you. 

You do, God, you want to call out his name so bad, so, so bad but don’t just to drive him crazy. 

“Say it.” 

“Say what?” You ask with a smirk. 

He growls, hauling your torso upwards against him; his hand rests on your neck, not squeezing the area but still letting you know who’s in control (right now). “Say it,” he hisses into your ear. 

“No.” 

His free hand slides down your side, moving towards the front of your belly. He moves lower and lower until he finds what he’s looking for. He doesn’t start you off at a slow pace to ease you in, he’s quick to circle your clit, moving at the same speed his hips thrust into you. 

Your moans are louder than before, you whine. “Roost- Rooster.” 

“Uh-uh. Say my name. Not my call sign, baby.” 

Your breathing becomes more ragged as he speeds up which you didn’t think was possible. “N- no.” 

A loud sigh enters your ear but you’re unfazed until the euphoria and tingling leaves you. 

You fall forward, bracing yourself before you could face plant into the crumpled sheets. Your head snaps in his direction. “Why?” You whine. 

He sticks his bottom lip out, throwing an unsympathetic pout your way. “Poor baby.” He leans down, pulling you back into his lap. 

You sit back onto his lap, his hard cock resting against the curve of your bottom. Your hands holding onto his thighs, hoping to inch closer to the one thing your needy for right now. 

His hand finds its way back to your neck, guiding your head back onto his shoulder. “Are you gonna be a brat the whole night?” 

A light chuckle escapes you, “no… not the whole night.” 

“Is that more bratty behavior I’m sensing?” 

“Bratty, never. Slight defiance, maybe.” You tilt your head, looking up at him, “are you not enjoying it?” 

One side of his mouth tugs upward, “good to know.” He pushes you off him, turning you around. 

Your arms lock around the back of his neck, your chest against his. 

He sets his hands under your thighs as he moves off the bed. 

“Where were going?” 

“Somewhere I’m sure you’ll be able to scream my name.” 

Your back hits the nearest wall, not hard enough to knock the wind out of you. Your chest heaves with every breath you take, anticipation floods through your veins. “Oh, yeah?” 

“I’m counting on it.” 

“Someone’s c-” 

His hips snap, this position much better more filling than before as he fills you to the brim. “Was the word you’re looking for,” he pulls his hips back and snaps into you once more. “Cocky?” 

“Don’t,” a shaky breath comes out of you, “don’t get too- confident there. It’s not- a- ah- ah- good look on you.” 

“Okay.” 

You tilt your head up, closing your eyes once they roll into the back of your head. Your nails dig into the side of his neck and shoulder. “Br-” 

“Come on now. Say it.” 

“Brad-” A high pitched moan cuts you off. “Brad-” 

“Just a little more, sweetheart.” He observes the way your mouth opens, the ideas running through his head make him slow down. 

Your head snaps up, “no. No. Not again. Please?” You ask with a whiney tone, hips rolling against his to make a point. 

He moves closer, his chest against yours as he focuses solely on making you cum right here and right now. One hand sneaks between your body’s, his thumb circling your buzzing bundle. 

You start clenching around him. 

“That’s it, just a little more.” 

Your breathing stutters, it’s too much. “Brad- Brad-” 

“Don’t give up now. You’re so close to getting what you want, sweetheart.” 

You cup his cheeks and yank his head closer, wanting to feel him everywhere. You push his head away from you, keeping him close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips. You stare into his pretty chesnut eyes and whisper, “Bradley.” You think you hear his breath hitch before you close your eyes, vision going white. You stutter his name in slow, unsteady breathes as he helps you ride out your high. 

He hardly slows his pace, giving you enough time to catch your breath. 

You open your eyes, blinking a few times to focus on him. Your chest heaves as you take deep breathes, your fingers curl in his hair gaining his attention. “If we- God, man what did you do to me?” 

He smirks, “I made you feel good.” 

You scoff, tugging on his hair; he grunts, his grip tightens on your hip and thigh. “You keep doing that and I’m gonna lose it.” You lick your lip, wetting it on purpose to distract him. 

His gaze does indeed travel down giving you the opportunity to clench around his length. 

He stills inside you, head in the crook of your neck with his mouth latched onto the skin of your shoulder, you can feel his groans vibrating against your skin followed by the faintest whisper of your name. 

You hum, petting the back of his head, “did lose your composure, big boy?” 

He lifts his head, narrowing his eyes at you. “You know exactly what you did.” 

An evil smile stretches across your lips, “I do, and I don’t regret it one bit.” You tap his shoulder, “now let me go.” 

“You sure you want me to do that?” 

You purse your lips, “okay, you cocky man. Here’s what’s going to happen,” you point to him. “You’re going to help me walk to the bathroom so we can both shower because I’m not gonna lay in a bed with a sweaty guy, unless you’re not staying then-” 

“I’m staying,” he interrupts. “If- if… that’s okay.”  

“Your cock is literally still inside me and you wonder if you spending the night is okay. Oh, I’m definitely keeping you.” 

He scoffs through his nose, “I didn’t realize I was a pet, sweetheart.” 

“You are, now take me to the shower or lose your place in my bed.” 

He pulls his semi hard cock out of your, now, pulsating core. 

You unwrap your legs from his waist, giving the hint that you want to walk (with his assistance of course). 

You two make it to the bathroom with little to no issues (all thanks to the hunky man).

-

After standing in the shower, letting the warm water roll down your body’s, relaxing you. 

It takes less than an hour for the two of you to fall asleep, you in a t-shirt and him in his (now washed and dry) boxers. 

-

Bradley’s still sleeping. 

You purse your lips, jealous that he can sleep some more than you. Your eyes wander around the dark, barely lit room; you stop at the sight of his shirt. 

You get out of bed, slipping your feet into your slippers not wanting to feel the cold floor, pausing to look back at him, sighing out a relief that he’s still asleep. Next time you’ll be careful when getting out of bed. 

You grab the shirt, gripping it tightly when you think about that last part again. “Next time?” Your head snaps over at the snoring, adorable, mustached man in your bed, tangled in the sheets. The corner of your lips tugs upwards, a gentle smile dancing across your lips, “next time, indeed.” 

You walk over to the window, opening the blinds a bit so little natural light can escape and brighten your room up in an hour but, in the meantime, you’ll settle for your headlamp. 

You reach into the drawer of your nightstand, grabbing the headlamp before opening your closet, searching for your sewing kit. 

You sit back on the bed carefully setting your kit in front of you, not wanting to lose your needles (you did that once and let’s just say it was not a fun night). 

-

Bradley rolls over and opens one eye; he smiles, staring at you, resting his head on his hand. "What're you doing?" 

You finish working on this button, you were lucky to get three done before he woke up. 

"Fixing your shirt." 

"You didn't have to do that." 

You take the headlamp off your head, rubbing your forehead. "I felt bad." 

"Why?" 

You sigh, "hang on." You open the blinds and run out into the living room, taking a picture frame off the table nearest to the wall, and run back into your room. 

You hold it out for him. 

He takes it, staring at it for a second. "Oh." "Sorry." 

"No. No. It’s okay… why- uh- why do you have this picture?" 

"My dad obviously." 

"Which one is he?" 

"You know the hat I was wearing tonight." 

"Yeah?" 

"Look for it." You settle back onto the bed, starting to work on another button. 

"Wait!” He pushes himself up, “you're Howler?!" 

You nod "yeah, you know who I am?" 

“How could I not? You’re all anyone talks about and your Bob’s best friend.” 

“The first thing I can imagine happening. Pilots like to gossip but I didn’t realize anyone knew I know Bob.” 

“I put it together last night. Bob’s never one to warm up to a person that fast.” 

You nod, sitting back on the bed, “fair enough.” 

He doesn’t look away from the picture. 

“Do you want me to put it back?” 

He shakes his head, “no, no. This is- this is actually nice.” 

“Is it?” You set his, now, finished shirt on your nightstand along with your sewing kit. You scoot closer to him, resting your elbow on the pillow, your hand rests on his shoulder. “How so?” 

“I’ve seen almost every picture of my dad, but I’ve never seen this one before.” 

“Yeah… I think my dad stole his camera because there’s a few others with Goose chasing after him and then the two wrestling with your dad looking pretty victorious as he dances around with his hat on.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle. 

Bradley turns his head, watching you with a small smile. 

You turn to see his star dazed expression. “You want to see more?” 

“In the living room?” 

“And the few boxes I got around here somewhere. If that’s alright with you, of course.” 

He cups your cheek, leaning in, “let’s do it.” 

Neither of you had talked about it, what would happen between the two of you the next day; you risk it and kiss him. 

“I’ll make the food this time.” 

Your eyes widen. “Oh my god! The food.” 

His arm wraps around your waist pulling you back into his. 

“Let go,” you whine. 

“No, no. Calm down, I took care of it last night.” 

You stop fighting his hold, “you did?” 

“I did, now can you stop freaking out?” 

“Maybe. Let me go so I can go find the boxes.” 

“If we must.” 

“Oh, shut up.” 

-

You push yourself out of bed, barely out the door when you hear, “are you wearing anything under your shirt?” 

“My answer depends on your response.” 

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone in this house ever get out of bed as fast as Bradley did in that moment.