#top gun maverick christmas

[sorchathered]

All I want for Christmas is you🎄

A/N- Hey y’all! This is my submission for @bellaireland1981 Hallmark Holiday writing challenge! A little corny, perfectly christmassy, and just in time for the holidays! I hope you all love it!

Pairing- Jake Seresin x reader (callsign Fawn)

Warnings- Language, Angst, Jake Seresin in love

Summary- the squad gets roped into a holiday charity auction, where dates with single male aviators are the prize. Will you bite the bullet and tell Jake how you feel before Christmas break? Or will you have to watch him go on a date with someone else?

The air was filled with excitement this week. Christmas block leave started in a few days and Maverick could tell that everyone on his team was going to be completely useless. No one could blame them though; it had been a hell of a year and going home for a few days was a guaranteed way to boost their spirits and get them back in the game for the new year. The knock on his office door was unexpected though, and when Admiral Simpson marched into his office he knew the time for celebration was probably on hold. Matching orders in hand he groaned as he made his way down to the ready room; the guys were going to hate every minute of this. It would be hilarious.

"I guess Cyclone's wife is part of some fancy supper club and they decided to auction off dates with single aviators as a big prize. I mean it all goes to charity so l guess it's not all bad." Natasha says with a shrug as she digs into her lunch, Bradley looks less than enthused about the whole ordeal and Jake doesn't seem to have a care in the world. "It's more like we got volun-told to do it, the only consolation is a four day weekend, if you ask me we could have at least gotten a gift card or something." Bradley grumbles, and you can't help but agree it does seem pretty meager considering they are basically being sold to a bunch of middle aged women to ogle them. You can't help but be a little annoyed at how chill Jake seems about it though; it's not like the two of you were serious or anything, but the little green monster was clawing at you at the thought of someone else holding his attention. You'd unpack that later, now wasn't the time.

If Jake seems unphased to you then it must be a Christmas miracle, he can’t stop wondering what you’re thinking about this whole ordeal; would you bid on him? Would he have to go on some stupid date with a 50+ year old divorcee and make small talk? He didn’t mind being ogled for charity, it was for a good cause and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t know he looked as good as he does. He should tell you how he feels, just bite the bullet and ask you to be his girlfriend. The thought of you laughing over the ridiculousness of him settling down has kept him from making the declaration, he may seem cocky and cool headed but on the inside? Well he’s a big ball of nerves when it comes to you. You weren’t like anyone he’d ever been into before, and the thought of getting turned down was down right soul crushing. So he’d settled for casual hook ups, late night booty calls and shitty diner food late at night when you wanted company. He wanted more; real dates where he held your hand and got dressed up to eat fancy shit he couldn’t pronounce, waking up and eating breakfast together, goodnight kisses before you passed out in each other's arms. He was getting soft, or at least that’s what Javy said when he got that dopey look on his face when you entered the room. He’d tell you after Christmas block leave, surely by then he’d have his shit together enough to make his case.

You had to admit that while the San Diego women’s supper club was a stuffy bunch, they certainly knew how to throw a swanky affair. The ballroom of the Lafayette Hotel was decked to the brim with an old Hollywood Christmas vibe. Garlands covered in holly and poinsettias covered the doorways, Christmas lights and candles as far as the eye could see, as a jazz band played holiday classics while the crowd of upper class ladies mingled with their crystalline glasses of spirits. It very much felt like stepping back in time; almost as if Sinatra himself was preparing to take the stage. You were definitely glad Phoenix had the forethought to drag you and Halo out to dress shop earlier in the week, your cocktail dress you usually donned for weddings wouldn't have cut it for something like this. The event said black tie and they weren’t kidding, even the guys in the squad had shown up in tuxes, and you had to keep your composure because Jake Seresin in a suit was a feast for the eyes. He mingled a little with the group as he made his way over to you, beer in hand because you can dress him up but he’s still a good ol’ southern boy at heart. His gaze over your frame heated your skin, and he knew damn well he had you flustered, flicking his toothpick around in his mouth as he grinned at you.

“You look good Fawn, damn good.” You felt good too, it was a beautiful night and he was by your side, now if only you could get yourself together enough to tell him how you felt. “I have something I need to talk to you about Jake, before we all go on block leave and don’t see each other until the new year.” He cocks an eyebrow at you and leans in so he can give you his full attention, this is it, just jump off the edge headfirst and tell him you want a real relationship. “I want us-�� You hear someone clear their throat behind you, it’s Admiral Simpson and his wife- beckoning all the eligible bachelors to meet up on stage so the auction can begin. With a groan Jake drops his head to your ear, squeezing your hand as an apology as he asks you to hold that thought. Ugh! You should’ve just said something sooner, now you’ll be left with your anxiety to keep you company while you watch a bunch of women place their bids. The girls make their way back to their seats, Halo suggests that Phoenix should place her bets on Coyote; Lord knows neither of them have been subtle about their hookups these days.

“I doubt any of us has the money to throw around that these rich old bags do.” “Oh my God Phe!” You crack a smile at her crassness, she and Javy seem so solid; nothing like the uncertainty you feel in your gut right now.

“Oh shit, isn’t that Admiral Roger’s ex wife? The one Jake got trash duty for hooking up with?” Halo whispers as an elegant looking woman walks past them with a sneer. “Fuck. Yeah that’s her. She got reported by Mav for stalking Jake too, went completely bat shit after their hookup and wanted to be his sugar mama or some shit. She’s bad news. You don’t think she’ll bid on him do you?” Phoenix said, frown etching her pretty features as she looked at you for an answer. You didn’t have one, you hadn’t even thought about her in months. She’d really fucked with Jake mentally, it was part of the reason you’d kept relationship talk off the table because you were afraid you’d run him off after that train wreck. If she was here it was almost guaranteed that it was to stir the pot, you had to do something, anything to keep him out of her cross hairs. “Phe, I gotta go talk to Mav- but we have to protect Jake. See what everyone’s got in extra cash- we may need it.”

The auction was definitely a success, these ladies knew what they wanted and went for it. Harvard had gone for 5,000 and as the rest of the guys were filing out you imagined the prices would just keep rising. The feeling in your stomach felt more like a boulder as you watched the former Mrs. Rogers and her gaggle of snotty girlfriends ogle over each of your friends. This was supposed to be a fun joke for charity but the more you thought about this woman using it to manipulate the man you loved the more sick you felt. Mav had assured you that he’d handle it as best he could; Iceman seemed confident that combined everyone could place a bet to win Jake and that there was no need to worry but it did little to calm your nerves. Finally Jake takes his turn on the stage, flashing his trademark grin and playing it up for the crowd. He caught your eye and gave you a wink, and as much as you wanted to return it you couldn’t bring yourself to smile. What if someone else won him? What if she won him? I mean yeah it’s just a line dancing date for charity but still. This woman is a nightmare in heels and you’d rather not watch him suffer through an evening with her.

“I’ll start the bidding at 100 dollars!” Mrs. Simpson calls out over the microphone, and a chorus of bids ring out through the ballroom. A bidding war breaks out between Mrs. Rogers and an ancient looking woman seated in the front, bringing the price to nearly 10,000 dollars. Jake looks off kilter as he watches his stalker fight over the bid prices, and you realize that none of you have the cash to help keep him from getting away unscathed. “Oh god, he’s really gonna have to deal with her isn’t he?” You groan, Phoenix rubbing your arm absentmindedly as the price skyrockets to 30,000. It appears though that Mrs. Rogers has finally met her match, at 35,000 she gives up and relinquishes her place to the little old lady. Finally you can breathe a sigh of relief; cheers ring out among your table as the older woman stands up and takes a bow, digging in her purse for her black card. When her name is announced you can’t help but laugh; it turns out she’s Icceman’s beloved mother in law, she loves charity work and has a ridiculous amount of money and nowhere to spend it. She pinches Jake’s cheek as he makes his way over to her, with a robust laugh she shoos him off to the table your squad resides, and he is back to grinning like he won the lottery himself.

“What did she say to you? Ice’s mom?” You say later in the evening, Mrs. Rogers' husband apparently got a very interesting text from her someone about her whereabouts and left shortly after the auction ended with her tail between her legs. “She said I have a damn good squad looking out for me, but it’s more about what Mav said that I want to talk about. How about we take a walk, sugar?” He downs the rest of his whiskey and takes your hand in his, leading you out to the lobby where it’s quieter.

Before you can say a thing he’s got you all wrapped up in his strong arms, leaning in with a gleam in his eye as he kisses you by the obscenely large Christmas tree. You melt into it, the noise of the party drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears, your head going a little fuzzy as he deepens it to the point of indecency. When he finally pulls away you chase his lips and he chuckles, stroking your jaw and soaking up the moment. “Mav told me you saved me from an evening of hell with my stalker, that true pretty girl?” You’ve been caught and you know it. “I just didn’t think it was right; you deserve better than that. A-and if I’m being honest, I didn’t want anyone else to have your time…especially not her.” You frown in frustration and he can’t help but find that little crease between your eyebrows so damn endearing.

“What did you want to tell me earlier? I can take a guess and hope like hell I’m right but I need to hear you say it.” He looks at you with so much love, it’s overwhelming and heats you all the way to your toes.

“I want us. I know we’ve been keeping things casual, but I fell in love with you Jake, and I want more with you. If that’s what you want too.” You’ve got his heart in your hand and you don’t even know it, he leans in to kiss you again as he whispers against your lips. “All I want for Christmas is you darlin’, couldn’t ask for a better gift. I’m yours, loving you is the easiest thing I can do and I’ll do it forever if you let me.” It was the best Christmas gift you’ve ever received.

Tagging- @bellaireland1981 @roosterforme @attapullman @honeytwrites @heavenssins @djs8891 @kmc1989 @mynameismckenziemae @kissmecaitie @sunsetsimpsblog @sio-ina-bottle @pinguhub @lenafromthenordiccoven @shanimallina87 @trickphotography2 @teacupsandtopgun

[themissingmango]

[k9effect]

🎄Hangster Christmas Vacation

[Click for better quality, reblogs and tags highly appreciated]

Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone! Here's a massive piece I've spent the last while working on of Jake and Bradley taking a vacation to some snowy mountains together and renting out a little cabin for the holidays. This is a shot of them waking up early for a coffee and a morning view.

Bonus: close ups, lineart and wip shots!

[roosterforme]

Pink Christmas Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

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

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

Length: 8000 words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mommy!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded in excitement. "Ask me anything!"

"What grade are you in?"

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

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

"Pandas!" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck," Jake groaned. 

"I'm really hungry," Bob whispered. 

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

"Whatever," Reuben and Javy said in unison.

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

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

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

"Really, feel free to tell her no."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A boyfriend."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah... he seems pretty great."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Santa!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: It was my pleasure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I made you some hot chocolate." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, Santa?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PART 2

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[imthebadguyyy]

Apple Pie

pairing : bradley bradshaw x reader

fandom : top gun

synopsis : bradley helps you make your renowned apple pie and experiences and enthralling sense of domestic bliss.

a/n : merry christmas to all who celebrate! love and best wishes ❤️🎁

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The scent of smoky cinnamon hung thick in the air, weaving itself with the tartness of fresh apples and the buttery promise of a homemade crust. Sunlight spilled through the kitchen window in golden pools, catching the specks of flour dusting the countertops like freshly fallen snow. A warm breeze, heavy with the aroma of a San Diego Christmas, whispered through the open window, carrying the faint scent of the salty sea air. It was a day meant for baking—a day where the world outside could wait while warmth and sweetness unfurled inside your home, one shared with Bradley.

The marble countertop, a luxurious expanse of creamy white, veined with subtle streaks of silver and gray flowed like frozen rivers beneath its polished surface. Cool to the touch and impeccably smooth, it provided the perfect canvas for the symphony of ingredients scattered across it.

A woven basket brimmed with crimson and honey-gold apples, their skins catching the sunlight and gleaming like polished jewels. Nearby, a small glass bowl overflowed with granulated sugar, sparkling like powdered stardust. A ceramic dish held a mound of cinnamon and nutmeg, their earthy hues promising warmth with a whisper of spice. A stick of butter, softened to perfection, rested on a wooden board, its edges slightly melty, waiting to be folded into the dough. Flour spilled artfully from a linen pouch, creating soft white dunes across the counter, while a jar of amber-colored honey glowed invitingly in the light. Nestled among the ingredients, a rustic jug of heavy cream stood tall, its promise of richness tucked beneath its simple cork top. Everything was arranged with an almost reverent care, a silent anticipation lingering in the air, as if the ingredients themselves knew they were destined for something magical.

Bradley stepped through the front door, the familiar creak of the hinges blending with the faint hum of music wafting from the kitchen. The aroma hit him first—sweet apples, warm cinnamon, and the unmistakable scent of butter melting into perfection. It wrapped around him like a welcome, soft and inviting.

Rounding the corner, his gaze landed on you. You stood at the counter, your apron tied snugly around your waist, its cheerful pattern a perfect match to the one hanging on the hook by the door. The sight made his heart stumble, just for a moment. There was something about the ease in your movements, the gentle sway of your hips as you worked, that filled him with a quiet, overwhelming contentment.

The apron—a gift he’d jokingly insisted on getting a matching pair of "kiss the chef" ones looked far better on you, though he’d never admit it out loud. For a fleeting second, he could imagine this moment stretched into a lifetime: mornings like this, evenings too, the two of you wrapped up in the ordinary magic of just being together.

“You’re making me look bad,” he teased, his voice warm as he leaned against the doorway. “What happened to waiting for the sous chef?”

You turned, a smudge of flour dusting your cheek and a playful smile lighting your face. “Sous chef? I thought you’d promoted yourself to taste tester.”

Bradley grinned, crossing the room to grab his own apron. “Domestic bliss never looked so good,” he murmured, the words half to himself as he tied the strings and stepped up beside you.

Side by side at the marble countertop, you and Bradley worked in quiet harmony, the kind of rhythm that didn’t need words. His hands, large but surprisingly gentle, moved clumsily at first, pressing into the cool, pliable dough while your smaller ones guided him with a soft touch. The room was filled with the quiet, comforting sounds of baking—the scrape of the rolling pin, the faint rustle of flour against the marble, and the occasional low hum of contentment from one or both of you.

“Like this,” you murmured, placing your hands over his. Together, you smoothed the dough into an even circle, the action unhurried, almost meditative. The soft press of your palms and the steady roll of the pin seemed to draw the tension from the air, leaving behind a soothing calm that wrapped around you both.

Bradley’s brow furrowed in concentration as he followed your lead, his lips quirking into a smile whenever you corrected his grip or teased his uneven edges. “Not bad for a rookie, huh?” he said, glancing over at you with an easy grin.

You tilted your head, pretending to inspect his work. “Hmm. I’d say you’ve got potential, Bradshaw,” you replied, your tone light but your smile warm.

The moment felt timeless, as if the world outside had paused to give you these small, perfect moments. The soft sunlight filtering through the window, the mingling scents of butter and spice, and the steady rhythm of your hands moving together—it was all a quiet symphony of togetherness. By the time the crust was ready, your fingers dusted in flour and your laughter mingling in the warm air, it felt less like a task and more like a memory you’d treasure forever.

As the two of you worked, Bradley's thoughts drifted, momentarily pulling him away from the comforting rhythm of the kitchen. The past few weeks had been a blur of intensity. The rigorous training sessions, each one pushing his body to the limit, followed by the endless debriefs that stretched into the late hours of the night. His mind had been consumed with flight simulations, meticulous calculations, and the pressure of preparing for missions that came one after the other. Long, arduous flights had left him drained, but it wasn’t the exhaustion that weighed most heavily on him—it was the constant longing to be somewhere else.

Somewhere with you.

The thought of the kitchen, of this quiet domestic scene, had become his escape. There was something about the way you were always waiting for him, patient and unwavering, that had kept him going through those long stretches away. In the dead of night, when his muscles ached and his mind raced with the remnants of missions completed and ones yet to come, he’d close his eyes and think of you. The way your laughter filled the space between the two of you, the warmth of your touch, and the sense of peace that came simply by being near you.

Now, standing beside you, the stress of those weeks seemed to melt away. The world outside, with its endless demands and responsibilities, faded into the background as he watched you expertly roll out the pie crust, the soft flour drifting through the air. The connection between you both—so natural, so easy—was like a breath of fresh air, and in this small, quiet kitchen, Bradley found solace in the simplicity of the moment.

He hadn’t realized just how much he had longed for this. The mundane beauty of being with you—flour on his hands, apples scattered across the counter, and a pie coming together, was a contrast to the chaos he had been living. It was exactly where he wanted to be.

Bradley reached for the basket of apples, the crisp fruits cool under his hands. “You do the crust like a pro,” he said, flashing you a grin. “Let me see if I can redeem myself with the apples.”

“You sure about that?” you teased, handing him a knife and a cutting board. “This is precision work, Bradshaw. No room for error.”

“Challenge accepted,” he quipped, rolling up his sleeves again as he positioned himself beside you. He started slicing the apples, his cuts neat but slightly uneven. You leaned over to inspect, your hand brushing his wrist as you adjusted the angle of the blade.

“Thin, but not too thin,” you instructed, your voice soft but firm. “We want them to bake just right, not turn to mush.”

Bradley nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile as he focused on the task. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board filled the kitchen, mixing with the faint hum of music still playing in the background. Each slice brought a sense of calm, as if the act of chopping apples could somehow unravel the knots left by weeks of tension.

While he worked, you measured out the sugar, pouring it into a small glass bowl with a practiced hand. You added a pinch of cinnamon and nutmeg, the warm, earthy spices swirling together in a fragrant mix. As you stirred them together, Bradley finished his pile of apple slices and slid them toward you with a triumphant flourish.

“Not bad, right?” he asked, his voice tinged with pride.

You glanced at the perfectly sliced apples, raising an eyebrow in approval. “Alright, I’ll admit it. You might have a future in baking after all.”

Bradley laughed, reaching for the measuring cup to help you portion out the rest of the ingredients. “Told you I’m a quick learner,” he said, his tone light but his gaze lingering on you a moment too long.

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm again, working side by side to combine the apples, sugar, and spices. The mixture shimmered in the soft light, a glossy cascade of sweetness and warmth that seemed to mirror the mood in the room. Every step felt unhurried, every action deliberate, as if time had slowed to let you savor this rare moment of togetherness.

As the two of you worked, Bradley’s mind wandered back to his childhood, to moments long passed but never forgotten. The kitchen had always been the heart of their home, his mother standing at the counter, apron tied high, her laughter filling the space as she taught him the small rituals of baking. It was there, in that warm, familiar room, that he’d first learned how to measure ingredients and roll out dough—lessons woven with love and patience, and the comforting scent of fresh-baked treats.

He remembered how she’d guide him through each step with a gentle hand, the way she’d smile when he made a mess, and the way her eyes would light up when the kitchen filled with the aroma of their creations. She always said baking was an act of love, a way to pour a piece of yourself into something tangible. It was one of those simple truths he’d carried with him, though it had taken him a while to understand how much those moments had shaped him.

As you stood beside him now, chopping apples with practiced ease, Bradley couldn’t help but notice the similarities—the way you moved with that quiet confidence, the way your presence brought a sense of peace to everything around you. It was like this kitchen, these shared moments, were a bridge between his past and present. The rhythm of your hands working together, the soft exchange of words, and the laughter that bubbled between you felt like a new chapter in a story he never wanted to end.

His thoughts drifted back to his mom again, to the way she’d often say, “Baking isn’t about perfection, it’s about enjoying the process.”

Bradley smiled to himself, a pang of nostalgia settling in his chest. Maybe he didn’t have the luxury of those moments with his mom anymore, but with you here, in this kitchen, it was as if she had passed that same warmth and care down to you, and through that, to him. He glanced over at you, the soft glow of the afternoon sun highlighting the determined curve of your cheek as you worked, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt like it had come full circle.

Bradley set down the measuring cup, the weight of the moment hitting him like a wave. His eyes softened as they drifted to you, the sight of you so focused, so at ease, reminded him of something he hadn’t thought about in years.

“You know,” he began, his voice quieter now, “the first time I baked cookies, it wasn’t just with my mom. You were there too.”

You looked up, surprise flickering across your face. “Really? I don’t remember that.”

Bradley chuckled, his gaze distant as he leaned back slightly against the counter, recalling the memory with fondness. “You were six. I was eight. Mom had decided we were going to bake chocolate chip cookies together—like a whole ‘family bonding’ thing. You were so excited, even if you had no idea what you were doing. I remember you kept sneaking chocolate chips and shoving them in your mouth when Mom wasn’t looking.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you tried to picture little you, mischievously eyeing the cookie jar. “That sounds about right.”

Bradley’s eyes twinkled as he continued. “I was determined to be the perfect little baker, you know? Measured everything precisely—like I was some kind of culinary prodigy. But you? You just dumped everything in, flour everywhere, a bit of sugar, chocolate chips scattered around… but somehow, it worked.”

You raised an eyebrow, the playful glint in your eyes matching his. “You mean it was my chaos that made it work.”

“Exactly,” Bradley said with a grin, shaking his head in disbelief. “Mom was trying so hard to keep us on track, but you and I just ended up making the biggest mess. It was like the kitchen exploded with flour and chocolate, but when those cookies came out of the oven, they were perfect. A little rough around the edges, sure, but they tasted like heaven.”

You laughed, imagining the chaos of it all. “I bet it was a disaster, but it was probably the best cookie I’ve ever eaten.”

Bradley nodded, the warmth of the memory spreading through him. “It was. And I think that’s when I realized something important—that sometimes, the mess, the imperfections, they’re what make the moments worth it. You and I, throwing chocolate chips everywhere, Mom laughing in the background—it was a mess, but it was our mess. And I’ll never forget that.”

There was a softness in his voice now, a quiet tenderness as he looked at you. “I guess I never told you this, but I always thought about that day when I came home, every time we’d bake together.”

You met his gaze, your smile softer now, the air between you warm and intimate. “It’s funny. I don’t remember the details, but I can almost feel it—the warmth of that kitchen, the smell of the cookies, and the laughter. It’s one of those memories that’s just… there. Like it was meant to be a part of me.”

Bradley’s heart swelled in his chest, and for a moment, he felt as though the years had collapsed into something simpler, something more timeless. The bond between you, so effortlessly shared in this small kitchen, felt like it had always been there, like it had been waiting to be rediscovered, one chocolate chip at a time.

With the apple filling nestled gently into the pie crust, you and Bradley stood side by side, both silently admiring the creation before you. The last few steps had been an easy flow of action, your movements guided by the comfort of routine and the shared sense of satisfaction that came from doing something together.

Bradley wiped his flour-dusted hands on his apron and looked over at you, his smile easy and warm. "You think it'll be as good as the one from last year?"

You laughed softly, a playful glint in your eyes. "Better, if we do it right."

Together, you carefully lifted the pie, the edges of the crust golden and slightly uneven, the filling bubbling just enough to promise sweetness and warmth. Bradley opened the oven door, the heat rushing out to meet you both, and you slid the pie onto the middle rack, feeling a little thrill at how perfectly it all came together.

The kitchen filled with the soft click of the oven closing, and you stood there for a moment, the two of you watching the pie as though you could will it to perfection just by looking at it. The anticipation hung in the air, the quiet hum of the oven providing the only sound.

Bradley leaned against the counter beside you, his arm brushing lightly against yours. “I’ve gotta admit, this whole baking thing—kind of growing on me.” His voice was relaxed, content, and you could tell that the weight of the past few weeks had momentarily lifted from him.

You smiled up at him, feeling a rush of affection for the man who, despite his usual focus on flying and mission prep, had found time to make something as simple—and yet, as meaningful—as this. "I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s nice, right? Just being here… together."

Bradley nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at you, then back at the oven. "Yeah. I don't think I've ever felt more at peace." His words were quiet, but they carried a depth that made you feel rooted in the moment.

For a few seconds, the room seemed to hold its breath, the scent of cinnamon and sugar beginning to rise, mingling with the warmth of the oven and the comfort of the space. In that stillness, you both knew what this was—this simple act of being together, of creating something from scratch and waiting patiently for it to turn into something beautiful.

As the pie baked away in the oven, the comforting scent of cinnamon and apples filling the air, you and Bradley exchanged a look. It was time for a well-deserved break, and after the cozy chaos of the kitchen, a few moments of relaxation felt like a gift.

"Think we deserve a little treat?" Bradley asked, pulling off his apron and tossing it onto the counter with a soft thud.

You grinned. "You mean besides the pie? Absolutely."

With a quick nod, you both headed off to your shared room, shedding the remnants of the afternoon in exchange for something far more comfortable. The soft rustle of fabric filled the air as you pulled on your favorite pajamas, an oversized t shirt that had once been Bradley's before you stole it, still soft despite the stretched out neckline from years of use, and a pair of comfortable flannel pyjama pants that were just soft enough to give you comfort, filled with memories of quiet nights just like this one. Bradley appeared moments later, also in his own set of pajamas—flannel pants and a simple black tee that made him look effortlessly at home.

"Much better," he said, tossing a pillow onto the couch before plopping down next to it.

You laughed and followed him, curling into him as the warmth of the oven continued to fill the room and the scent of cinnamon wafted from the kitchen to your beautiful living room. "Alright, what are we feeling? Chinese takeout? Or... pizza?"

"Chinese," Bradley answered almost instantly, his hands already reaching for his phone to dial the number. "Nothing beats Chinese on a night like this."

You smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’m with you. The crispy spring rolls, and fried rice, it’s all calling my name.” you sighed happily, a little drunk on how effortlessly perfect the moment was with him.

He grabbed you by the hips, pulling you into him so you were straddling him, legs on either side of his waist. His hands gently trailed down your back, squeezing your hips as he rocked you forward, meeting your lips in a passionate kiss. His lips were soft and warm, and the kiss was heady in the best way. As he gently stroked your tongue with his, he let his hand drop to the curve of your ass, squeezing and palming the flesh through your pyjamas, the thin material pressing against your core in a way that had you gasping. As his tongue explored your mouth, you let your hands run down the muscled planes of his chest, hard and toned even under his t shirt, gently raking patterns with your nails and grinding your hips against his hips. His hand settled on your ass, cupping the flesh softly as he ran his fingers softly between. He drew back to inhale deeply, sighing happily at the sight of your swollen lips. He placed a final indulgent kiss on your swollen lips, pulling your lip between his teeth to watch it snap back in place.

You couldn't help but smile, gently tickling his side as he scooped you up to lay you down properly, grabbing your favourite couch blanket as you opened netflix on the TV.

As Bradley placed the order, you grabbed the remote, flicking through the shows to find something easy and comforting. "How about we throw on a Friends marathon? It’s been forever since I’ve watched it."

Bradley looked over, his eyes lighting up with recognition. "Now you're speaking my language." He paused for a beat. "You know, I’ve always thought I’d be a Chandler in another life."

You raised an eyebrow at him, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh really? I can see that. The sarcastic humor. The… awkwardness.”

“Hey!” he protested, nudging you with his elbow. “I’m not that awkward.”

“Right,” you said with a grin, leaning back into the couch cushions. “You’ve definitely got a little Ross in you too, but more… cool.”

Bradley laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, but if I’m Ross, you’re definitely Monica. All that organization and competitiveness.”

You looked at him with a mock gasp, “How dare you? I’m not competitive.” But you both burst into laughter as the familiar opening credits of Friends played, the theme song a nostalgic reminder of countless nights spent laughing at the same jokes.

Bradley got up to fetch a bottle of red wine he had picked up a few weeks ago exactly for a night like this, along with two wine glasses with purple and red wine charms you had bought when you first moved in. He poured you a glass of the Sauvignon, watching with a content smile as you swirled it around your glass and took a happy sit, complimenting it with a sweet kiss to his lips.

The doorbell rang just as you settled in, and Bradley jumped up, a little too eager to grab the takeout. As he brought the steaming containers into the living room, you both made room on the coffee table, the food’s scent mingling with the still-warm aroma of the pie in the oven.

With takeout and your favorite show queued up, the evening stretched out in front of you like a peaceful, uninterrupted pause. There was no rush, no deadlines—just the quiet comfort of the moment, with laughter, familiar food, and a freshly baked pie in the oven.

Bradley fed you bites of food and the two of you chatted about mundane things that felt extraordinarily special when you spoke about them with Bradley. Growing up together, you had little to no secrets from each other, but the level of domesticity being in a relationship and living together had brought you had you dreaming of a life with him, a picket fence and kids, dogs and cats, a classic life you hadn't allowed yourself to dream of.

But now, as he fed you a bite of his spring roll and stole a sip of wine from your glass and placated you with a chaste kiss to your lips, your dream had turned to a reality.

The timer’s soft chime echoed through the kitchen, and with it, a rush of anticipation. The pie had finished its long journey in the oven, and as you opened the door, the golden crust greeted you like an old friend. The edges were perfectly crisp, the apples inside caramelized and bubbling with sweet warmth. The kitchen seemed to hum with the quiet satisfaction of a job well done.

Bradley was already standing by, his gaze soft as he watched you take the pie out, the aroma mingling with the last traces of cinnamon and sugar. “Looks perfect,” he murmured, his voice low with the kind of affection only shared in the quiet moments.

You turned to him with a grin. “I think you’re right. This might just be the best one yet.”

With care, you slid the pie onto a cooling rack, and together you waited those precious few minutes before slicing it. You cut into the soft, tender layers, the filling slightly bubbling over as you pulled the first piece onto a plate.

Bradley, ever the gentleman, grabbed the whipped cream from the fridge and dolloped a generous spoonful on top, the cold cream melting slightly against the warm pie. He handed it to you, his fingers brushing against yours in the exchange.

“You first,” he said, his smile warm, a little teasing, but filled with sweetness.

You took the fork, the bite of warm pie and cold cream almost too perfect, the sweetness settling on your tongue like a promise. Bradley’s eyes followed you, a quiet contentment settling over him as he waited for your reaction.

“Good?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, savoring the moment. “Perfect.”

And then, without a word, you held the fork out to him, offering him a taste. His eyes softened as he took the bite, the simple act of sharing something so intimate almost more than either of you could put into words. You fed each other in silence, the only sound being the soft scrape of forks against plates, the occasional hum of contentment escaping both of you.

Between bites, the pauses were filled with quiet laughter, shared glances, and soft kisses—quick, sweet pecks that made the world outside the kitchen seem distant, as though this small moment was the only one that mattered. Your lips met between forkfuls of pie, the taste of apples and cinnamon mixing with the sweetness of each kiss, a quiet rhythm that only deepened the sense of domestic bliss.

Bradley’s hand found its way to the back of your neck, his fingers brushing the soft skin there as he pulled you in for another kiss. It was slow this time, lingering, the warmth of the pie forgotten as you melted into the softness of each other’s embrace. You let the moment stretch, taking it all in—the cozy kitchen, the warmth between you, the simple sweetness of pie, and the quiet joy of being together.

When the last bite of pie was finished, the plates were left behind, forgotten, as the two of you curled up together on the couch. The kitchen had long fallen quiet, save for the steady hum of the world outside. But inside, in the gentle glow of the evening, it was just you and him—a perfect little moment, wrapped in love, pie, and a thousand unspoken promises.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : merry christmas everyone! wishing you all love and peace! ❤️ would you like a series on how bradley and childhood best friend!reader got together? do let me know!! as always, likes , comments, reblogs etc are always appreciated!!

TAGS

general : @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird-blog

top gun : @gretagerwigsmuse

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM ❤️

[elizabeth-holland24]

Snowed In at the Country Inn

A/N: I know I still have "The Beast Within" to finish, but it's the holiday season and I just saw @bellaireland1981 #HallmarkHolidayRomComChallenge challenge, and I knew I had to participate.

Pairing-Jake Seresin x reader (last name Hallmark)

Warnings-Fluff, Cliché, Language, Angst, Jake Seresin in love

Preview-When Ms. Hallmark, a perfectionist event planner, gets snowed in at a quaint country inn, the last thing she expects is to share close quarters with Jake Seresin—a cocky ex-pilot with a talent for charming his way out of trouble. Sparks fly, both from their banter and the twinkling Christmas lights they’re forced to untangle together.

Amid small-town holiday magic, mischievous mistletoe, and unexpected moments, they discover that sometimes the best Christmas plans are the ones you don’t make at all.

Get ready for sizzling chemistry, laugh-out-loud banter, and enough holiday cheer to make your heart melt!

Chapter 1 (Published)

Chapter 2 (Published)

Chapter 3 (Coming Soon)

[lovelytsunoda]

love, actually | robert 'bob' floyd

summary: recently appointed admiral robert floyd feels overwhelmed in his new position, and unprepared to fill the shoes of the late admiral thomas kazansky. when he inherts the job, he also inherits tom's old secretary. cue the romance. inspired by hugh grant's storyline in love, actually

pairing: admiral!bob floyd x secretary!reader

warnings: mentions of death and greif was she secretly in love with that old man (because same) we may never know! mentions of addiction (but not with our two main characters!), can be considered to be a minor part of the heather and tommy universe (see 'tell me something girl (are you happy in this modern world)!) so many navy inaccuracies it would make a real admiral's head spin, professionalism simply does not exist in the pacific fleet

the office was barren, devoid of the remarkable life that had once occupied it. the large oak desk that had once held family photos and love notes from the admiral's wife was now empty, save for the top of the line desktop computer. admiral kazansky's wife and kids had been by earlier in the week to collect his things. bob hadn't been there, but he'd heard from natasha that it wasn't a pretty sight. she said that heather kazansky looked frail, and slightly lost without her husband of thirty years by her side. tom was her soulmate, and she'd gone through the pain of watching him die slowly.

cancer was a bitch.

this wasn't how he had wanted to come in to the job. although it was no doubt that he was the best man to lead the pacific fleet (and with an endorsement from maverick mitchell, nobody was going to question his appointment.), he was now wondering if he was really ready.

"admiral floyd?"

bob turned around. standing in the doorway in a skirt that was certainly not navy issued, was a tall young woman with round glasses and soft features. she wore no makeup save for the mascara on her eyelashes.

"hi, i'm y/n. i was admiral kazansky's secretary. and, i suppose, i'm now yours." her voice was soft and gentle, like music to bob's ears. "i brought your welcome packet and agenda for the day."

"admiral robert floyd." he stuck his hand out for her to shake, ignoring how clammy his palms suddenly seemed to feel. "but please, call me bob."

"that's your callsign, right? does it mean anything?"

bob rolled his eyes. "baby on board. they call me that because of my youthful appearance."

she laughed briefly, a cheerful and somewhat abrupt sound, before she looked at the empty office, her face falling again. "he was a good man."

"he was." bob agreed somberly.

"i loved that old man, i really did."

for a second, bob felt like something had tripped in his brain. she loved him? it seemed so cliche when he thought about it, but weren't cliches there for a reason? the pretty young secretary with the silver fox admiral. but what about heather? and his kids? he'd been married to heather since 1987, and from what bob knew of the admiral, he was an honorable man in all aspects of life.

this confusion must have shown on bob's face, because the secretary simply laughed, turning to face him with her arms crossed over her baby blue blouse.

"like a father, admiral. admiral kazansky and i were never involved. he was a family man. i'm the same age as his middle child." she didn't know why she was spitting out words like this. divulging too much information would be unprofessional and- "i actually used to go out with his eldest son when i first started working here. i was young and dumb and mitchell kazansky was a few years older and smooth talking. and then i broke up with him and he went to rehab. he's doing good now. he got married four years ago, i think. i've met his wife, she's a sweet girl." stop. fucking. talking. y/n.

in truth, bob only caught half of the word vomit. he was too preoccupied with the way her eyes sparkled behind her glasses, and the way her crossed arms accidentally pushed up her cleavage. she was totally wearing a push up bra. jake and bradley could probably even accurately guess her boob size. bob couldn't, but didn't need to to wonder what it would be like to rest his head against them, feeling her arms wrap around his tired frame.

"anyways." she exhaled, cheeks rosy with embarrassment. "i'll let you settle in. just so you know, your friday meeting with the commanders got moved up. it's nothing to worry about. come find me at lunch and i'll give you the brief. i used to make them for tom all the time, especially when he got sick."

"thank you." bob said graciously. "i really appreciate it. would you actually mind staying with me during the meeting? just to make sure i don't put my foot in my mouth."

she smiled, passing him a file folder. "of course, admiral. i'd love to."

the afternoon meeting came faster than bob would have wanted, and he was still struggling to make heads or tails of half the reports that his secretary had left on his desk. having a meeting this soon into his tenure seemed unusual, and for a moment he wondered about the severity of the content being discussed.

of course, he couldn't worry for long. through the panes of glass in the office doors, he could see y/n out at her desk, applying a thin layer of chapstick while she waited on hold with someone. her desk was filled with little baubles and a few small plants were on the filing cabinet behind her.

she looked calm and carefree, unbothered. and bob was smitten. completely and totally smitten. sure, it was a workplace harassment suit waiting to happen. and yes, it was never a good idea to get involved with people at work, especially when you outranked them.

but in that moment, bob floyd simply couldn't care less. especially when she gave him a flirty little wave from behind her desk, and even more so when the collar of her shirt dipped just enough that bob could see the edge of her lacy white bra.

this woman was going to be the death of him.

"bob?" she called out, poking her head through the doorway. "the commanders are here earlier than expected. have you had a chance to look over the notes?"

fuck. he couldn't admit that he was so distracted that he forgot to read the file. "uh, about half of it?" he explained sheepishly. "it's a lot."

she flashed him an understanding smile. "if you get lost in the meeting, i can take over. i used to do it for tom all the time."

"thank you. you're a lifesaver."

she winked, backing out of the room. "you owe me one, admiral."

the commanders filed into the meeting room, gathering around the round oak table like they were king arthur's knights. bob recognized a few of them, including jake seresin. he took a seat underneath the world map that was used to plot out missions, y/n taking a seat beside him.

and bob floyd wished he was a better man because as soon as he saw that skirt slip up her plush thigh, he was a goner. he forgot why he was even in that meeting in the first place. to his credit, he did fairly well, answering questions about the transition of power in the pacific fleet, and what was going on with some current matters that had gone unfinished when the previous admiral had passed. whenever bob seemed to stutter or falter in any way, y/n jumped in to rescue him, with a well-worded response delivered in such an effortless manner that he wondered why he was the admiral and not her.

jake caught him staring, a glean of admiration in his eyes as he watched the secretary (who was one of only two women in the room, by the way) outline a budget for the coming year. the commander kicked his former platoonmate under the table, holding back a laugh. bob shot him a dirty look before redirecting his attention to y/n.

after the meeting, and after shaking hands with what felt like every commander in san diego, jake stayed behind to chat with bob, eager to 'catch up' on everything the other had missed since their assignment with maverick. but really, jake just wanted to rib his coworker about the pretty secretary.

"dude, kazansky's secretary? come on."

"jake, shut up." bob could feel his face going pink. "it would be unprofessional at best, harassment at worst. her boss just died, for god's sake!"

jake laughed, hands tucked into the pockets of his dress whites. "i'm sure that they make porno's about this kind of thing. i say go for it. you only live once, admiral."

"hangman, go fuck yourself."

there was a knock on the office door, and y/n stuck her head inside the office. "admiral floyd, commander seresin. its five, so im on my way out. if you need anything, there's a post-it with my personal number on it in your welcome packet. don't stay too late, you'll make me look bad." she grinned at bob, waving at him before ducking back out of the office again.

bob shouted after her, something along the lines of 'see you in the morning', but he couldn't hear himself think over the sound of jake's laughter.

"what!"

"dude, look below your fucking belt. you're fucked."

_______

life went on, and bob found himself settling into his role as admiral nicely. of course, he wasn't doing it alone. y/n was a massive help in meetings, and they had started tag-teaming on important topics: putting together elaborate slide presentations, models and poster boards before every meeting with the fellow admirals or the commanders. there was a meeting with the president's aide scheduled for the new year, and surprisingly, bob wasn't worried about it. he had even gone as far as to help y/n decorate the office for christmas.

every day, she showed up in a trendy, fashionable and flattering outfit that definitely went against navy regulations, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. especially not when those leather slacks of hers made him so achingly hard that he spent half of his lunch break in the private bathroom jerking off. it wasn't the good admiral's fault that his secretary was so stunningly beautiful and sweet and kind and funny and so many other things that made him wonder if it was finally time to consider finding a life partner.

the pair had started sharing their lunch breaks, and bob was enjoying getting to know her outside of the office. she was easy to talk to, and he was convinced he had never laughed as much as he had when he was with her.

and that's why he was so worried when he saw that she had put in for a transfer request.

_____

they were one week out from christmas, and the base was getting ready to send all non-essential staff home. that meant that y/n was getting a much needed break, and while bob would be considered to be 'on-call', he got to go home as well. the last meeting of the year was finished, and y/n was cleaning up the round table in the conference room when she heard hushed voices from the cracked door in bob's office.

"robert, you understand what you're getting yourself into, right? the kind of trouble you'd be opening up for her?" natasha trace's voice was low and not quite venomous, but not calm either. "don't think that people haven't figured out why you hide in the bathroom over your lunch break, bradley told me about your little crush. you can't act on it, bob. i'm sorry, but you just can't. she's your subordinate. unless one of you transfers out. no matter how much you think you'd be able to make it work, it just not possible."

"i love her, phoenix. and i don't know what to do."

"you keep your mouth shut and your dick in your pants. that's what you do."

she felt her heart grow tight in her chest. bob was in love with someone? it was probably another soldier, or a pilot. or, and she hesitated at the thought, was bob floyd falling in love with her?

she didn't know if she wanted to find out. because if she was wrong, and bob didn't feel the same way about her that she felt about him, it was going to lead to a lot of heartbreak.

she put in for a transfer to another fleet later that week.

________

"what the fuck? how could this happen, phoenix? what did you say to her?"

natasha gaped at the frazzled admiral, who was pacing behind his desk. "what did i say to her? i didn't say shit, bob. she must have overheard us and gotten the wrong idea."

it was christmas eve, and bob didn't even know why he'd come into the office. he supposed it was because he wanted everything pressing to be done before the holidays, but seeing the neon blue transfer request paper on his desk had thrown him for a loop.

"i can't function without her. she keeps this office going." bob wailed, running his fingers through his hair. "i need her."

"yeah." jake snorted. "in more ways than one."

"can it, hangman." natasha scolded. "you'd have to find a really good, sound reason for denying the transfer, you know. keeping her here without one would be an abuse of power."

"you think i don't fucking know that?"

"there is another solution here." bradley bradshaw suggested, leaning against the side of the desk. "her address would be in her files, right? why don't you go and talk to her?"

actually.....that wasn't a terrible idea.

"no." natasha glared at him, almost as if she could read his mind. "that would be another glaring abuse of power. do none of you have functioning brain cells? this is psychotic."

"but it could work." bob mused, scrambling to boot up his computer. "what woman doesn't love a grand romantic gesture?"

"that's my boy." jake roared with laughter, clapping him in the shoulders. "let's make this christmas miracle happen."

bob scrambled to pull up her personnel file, scribbling a street address down in his messy cursive. "okay, okay. how do we know she's home? i mean, it's christmas eve. she could be with family, or with friends-"

"trust your gut, admiral." jake encouraged. "rooster, grab the keys to the bronco!"

"i'm surrounded by idiots!" natasha cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "why am i even here?"

there was a fleeting sense of nostalgia as the former dagger squad members piled into rooster's sleek black bronco. it was cold for california, albeit the lake of snow on the ground. a strong wind was coming in off the ocean, pushing the bronco closer to y/n's house. bob was jittery, working his way through everything he wanted to say.

because how did he tell a woman that he loved her without even having gone out with her yet?

"alright, take a left at this next set of lights, and then a left at the stop sign after that." jake instructed, reading directions off of his phone. rooster was going at least ten over the speed limit, and natasha was praying that there were no police officers around.

"that's her house!" bob shouted, jumping to attention in the backseat. "the one with the the three volkswagens in the driveway. she still lives with her parents, the whole family drives german cars. i remember her bringing it up over lunch one day."

the bronco skidded to a stop in the middle of the road, forced to slow abruptly when bob threw his door open. natasha chased him out of the car, followed up by jake while bradley worried about where to park on the unforgivingly small street.

bob ran up the driveway, in between an suv and a sport model jetta before practically launching himself at the doorbell.

"y/n?" he called, ringing the bell. "its admiral floyd! can we talk for a minute?"

"she cant hear you, dipshit." jake reminded gently. "just wait for her to answer the door."

the front door crept open, y/n standing nervously behind it in a christmas sweater and jeans. on her feet where two large slippers that looked like reindeer heads.

"admiral floyd? what are you doing here?"

"please don't transfer." bob pleaded, the words coming out in a single breath. "i don't know what i would do without you. you consume my every waking thought, every breath. these past few months working with you have been the most rewarding months of my career and i know how selfish it must sound of me to beg you not to go, but the truth is that i've fallen in love with you, y/n y/l/n. and i can't let you leave the fleet without making sure that you know that."

she stood frozen in the doorway for a minute before a wide smile broke out over her face. "come here you big doofus."

she stepped out onto the front porch, grabbing bob by the lapels of his tommy hilfiger trench coat and pulled him in for a kiss. his eyes widened in shock before he leaned into it, arms settling to hold her protectively.

"i put in the transfer request so you could ask me out, admiral." she whispered, giggling slightly. "i guess it worked."

"yeah." bob breathed, leaning in to kiss her again. "i guess it did."

"god damn it!" bradely shouted, out of breath and he came up the driveway. "don't tell me i missed everything trying to find somewhere to park my fucking car?"

y/n laughed, pulling away from bob. "do you guys want to come inside? i'd feel awful making you stand out here in the cold."

jake shrugged. "why the hell not."

"cassie's here, so behave yourself." y/n warned, referring to tom kazansky's youngest, whom jake had a history of hitting on.

jake perked up. "oh, cassandra!" he called, walking into the house

"not a chance, seresin. teddy and i are still very happily married!" a voice called from within the living room.

"god damn it!"

y/n turned to look at bob. "i made a massive mistake inviting them in, didn't i?"

bob chuckled, kissing her forehead. "yeah. but i wouldn't be here without them, so cut them some slack. come on, let's go celebrate christmas."

[randomtacoscry]

Icemav/Hangster Sister Edits ARE HERE

(this one's also pretty loud so put your device on like 2)

[rebelliousstories]

Milk and Cookies

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,000

Main Masterlist: Here

Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist: Here

Summary: Watching the nieces and nephews, Hangman feels a weird feeling making the cookies for Santa.

Consider Donating: Here

Coming home to Texas was one of Jake’s favorite things about Christmas. Getting granted leave from the Navy and flying home, he loved it. His other favorite thing the past two years has been bringing his girlfriend with him.

She got along great with his folks, and they loved her as much as she loved them. The traditions in the Seresin home were cherished very deeply. Everyone gathering around, sharing stories, what has happened to them through the years, catching up, food, and games were constant the weeks of Christmas and New Year’s Eve.

It also helped that everyone gathered at the Seresin farm for the festivities, leaving plenty of room for everyone to spread out and not be right on top of each other. However, Jake had elected to wrangle the kids in the cookie making area so as to give his siblings a break, and a chance to relax with other adults. Thankfully, his girlfriend had decided to join him, enjoying time with the little children as much as her boyfriend.

Jake loved hanging out with his nieces and nephews. He loved doing anything with them from the mundane to special trips. And he especially loved being able to decorate cookies with them. His youngest niece, a beautiful girl of only eighteen months named Ava, sat in his lap as he sat in the chair. She was playing with some frosting on the table while his girlfriend guided his older nephews, Luke and Jessie, in how to create cool splashes of color on the plain cookies.

“Uncle Jake?” Luke had come over and abandoned his cookies in the process.

“What’s up bud?” Hangman ruffled his shaggy blonde hair. The little eight year old boy looked so much like a Seresin. His sister’s genes really pulled through on this kid.

“Can you make a cookie with us, please?”

“Sure. Gotta bring some cookies over. Need to keep a hand on little miss here.” Bouncing his knee that held the child, Jake smiled as he heard her begin to laugh the longer he did this.

Briefly, he looked up and locked eyes with his girlfriend who was smiling at the interaction. There was some twinkle in her eyes that he could not quite pinpoint just yet, but he was drawn back to the children as Luke transferred some materials over to the other side of the table. Helping his nephew try and make plane themed cookies, Jake felt his heart swell as Luke put his helmet design on a plain circle, complete with his call sign.

Ava was taken out of his arms by his girlfriend who shot him a smile. Sitting down with the little girl, she kept her entertained much like Jake had done; special frosting that was placed on the wax paper covering the table. Thankfully, the adults had the foresight to know that kids decorating cookies would be a messy ordeal. Jessie was still over on the opposite side of the table from Jake as he quietly made his cookies. The boy was a bit shy and not as out going as his cousin Luke.

On an off glance towards his girlfriend, Jake felt something tear through his chest. His mind crafted an entire dream around that simple view. Instead of his niece and nephew, Seresin saw his own kids, with a little touch of him and a little touch of her in them, around their mother as they made cookies for Santa. He had talked with her about marriage and children before, but Jake still had yet to find the proper time to ask her the question.

But this made him really give it some thought again. This was a life he could live. He continued to help his nephew, sneaking glances towards his girlfriend who helped the other children stay on task and entertained.

Eventually, Jake’s siblings and the parents of the children, came to collect them to go get ready for bed. Leaving the two adults to pack away the cookies and supplies in the mean time. Once they were all done, Jake snagged a few cookies to put on a plate, as well as a couple glasses of milk. He set them on the coffee table, before grabbing his girlfriend to sit down on the couch.

She squeaked as she felt the arms of her partner wrap around her, to drag her down onto his lap on the couch. Laughing softly, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, just happy to send some alone time with him finally. It had been a crazy day with all the Seresin’s that could under one roof. Hangman reached for the plate that was on the table, and set it in her lap.

No one said anything for a while. The happy couple just ate their cookies and drank their milk basking in each other’s presence. That is until Jake bumped his nose into her cheek to grab her full attention.

“Ever think about kids, doll?” Finishing up the cookie in her mouth, she took a swig of milk to wash it down. All the while sending a confused look towards her boyfriend.

“Um, sure. We’ve talked about this before. Why do you ask?” But Jake just pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Nothing. Just was thinking. Like, what you wanna do with them around Christmas time? Your own little traditions.” Moving the plate and glasses away, she shifted her body to face her lover more. Wrapping both arms around his neck, she was delighted to feel Jake’s arms securely around her waist and thighs.

“You getting baby fever already, Seresin,” she teased, one of her hands moving through his cropped hair.

“Maybe a little,” he replied, thumb stroking her jeans covered thigh.

Again, no one said anything for a moment. She relaxed entirely and nuzzled her face into his neck. They did not need any words for that moment; all they needed was themselves, and a little tray of cookies along with some milk.

[littlemessyjessi]

"Holly Jolly at The Hard Deck" : A Holiday Top Gun Maverick Imagine: Robert "Bob" Floyd

…….

Holiday Top Gun Maverick Imagine

Robert “Bob” Floyd x Plus Size Reader PS Reader, Reader 

Use of Y/N because (I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again) if I focus on a fully thought out character… none of us will get to see the end of this imagine until next December… if we’re lucky.  Though I have supplied a backstory/family for her though because… plot.  And also I can’t help myself, lol.  

Fem Identifying reader because I love women and I do enjoy writing for them.  But also bi-panic so ya know, lol. 

If you're under 18, see yourself out. Love you but no. Auntie loves you but get out and come back when you're legal. Tis no place for children. Love you but bye.

Warnings: Use of booze because well, The Hard Deck.  

…..

…..

…..

Pete Mitchell all but elbowed his way into The Hard Deck. 

An exasperated glance from Bradley told him he wasn’t alone in thinking that it was getting more and more crowded in here every day. 

By the time he’d finally made it to the bar… he was sweating. 

Penny was running around like a madwoman. 

“Uh, Pen? What’s got this place so packed?” 

The woman turned with a tired smile, “You know the new waitress I hired?” 

“Yeah…” Bradley said, taking a seat beside Mav.  “What? She up and quit?” 

“No, no.” Penny laughed, placing their usuals down in front of them. 

“When she said she had previous experience and a business degree, I didn’t realize -”  she said only to be cut off. 

“Coming through!” 

Penny just stepped back out of the way as a very soft, cushiony woman breezed past them. 

“New girl?” Pete asked. 

“Not bad.” Bradley said, head tilting as he checked her out. 

Penny did not hesitate to slap him upside the head. 

“Remember my rules, Bradshaw.  You disrespect a lady and you buy a round for everyone.” she warned.  

“I wasn’t disrespecting!” he said. “I was just admiring… respectfully.” 

“Well, get in line.” Penny chuckled. “And good luck.  I think she already has eyes for someone else.” 

Pete chuckled as the woman all but twirled around Robert “Bob” Floyd… and he turned about thirteen shades of red in her presence. 

She pressed a festive little drink into his hand and a kiss to his cheek. 

“Yeah, you’re out of luck, Bradley.” Pete chuckled before turning his attention back to his own lady. “Looks nice in here, Pen.  I like it.” 

“Thank the new girl.” she shrugged. 

Decorating extensively had never been Penny’s thing.  

She enjoyed it once it was up but she’d never quite found the joy of doing it and often got frustrated when she lacked inspiration. 

And she wasn’t a woman who enjoyed scrolling through Pinterest. 

Y/N, it seemed, was the perfect little addition because she had a natural knack for it. 

Suddenly those boxes in the basement that Penny was certain the local church wouldn’t even take… had transformed the place into Holly Jolly at The Hard Deck. 

“Seems like it’s good for business.” Bradley said. 

“Oh, it’s great for business.  The festive little cocktails she keeps posting on social media has helped too.” she said.  

“Oh, The Hard Deck is on social media now?” Bradley teased knowing damn well that the owner had had a previous aversion to such. 

“Look, I didn’t have to do it and she handles it.” Penny shrugged.  “And I’ll admit.  It’s made a huge difference.   It’s the first time in years where I haven’t had to worry about the future of this place.  Sometimes things get tight around here.  At the risk of sounding churchy, she really has been a blessing.” 

“So why do you sound sad when you say that?” 

The three of them looked up to see the woman of the hour weaving her way back around the bar. 

“I feel like I’ve stolen a talent.” Penny laughed.  “You should be somewhere fancy and elegant.  Not here.” 

Y/N outright snorted, “Penny, I was the one that basically begged you for the job. Remember?  I’ve done the high end stuff.  I don’t like it.  There’s no connection.   And besides, with its connection to the Navy… this place feels more like home than I’ve felt in a long time.” 

“Were you in the Navy?” Pete asked curiously. 

“Not me.” she said.  “Both of my parents were though and two of my siblings as well.  They’ve all passed on now so being around here kinda feels like home.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Pete offered. 

Y/N shrugged, “I was the surprise that came much later in their life.  My dad was sixty when I was born.” 

Pete and Bradley’s faces clearly showed their shock as the two women laughed. 

“Yeah, apparently that was my dad’s  reaction when my mom told him as well.” Y/N laughed.  “They passed when I was quite young. “My brother and sister mostly raised me but they were navy too.  I was definitely a military brat.  So I’m more comfortable around you meatheads than I am anyone else at times.” 

The pair of them laughed out of shock. 

“Uh huh.” said Penny knowingly.  “And it has nothing to do with a certain WSO?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about it, Miss Benjamin.” Y/N said. “I sought out this job for my own reasons.  The cutie in the glasses just happened to be a MAJOR unexpected perk.” 

“I’ll be sure to tell him you think he’s cute.” Bradley teased. 

“He knows I think he’s cute.  I told him he was fine as hell the first time I saw him.  I don’t think it’s a secret at this point.” she shrugged. 

“Is this where he keeps sneaking off to every spare second these last couple of weeks?” Pete asked Penny as something seemed to click in his head. 

She tried her best to hide her laughter behind her hand but that alone confirmed where that stealthy little twerp had been. 

Another group of men all but crashed onto the counter top, earning a stern glare from Penny but an amused smirk from Y/N. 

“Fellas, it would seem that my ‘fruity little girlie drinks’ have put you on your ass.  Maybe you should call it a night.” Y/N said reaching out to tap the head of one particular man who was a good head taller than she was. 

“‘m fine. Dun no what yer talk bout.” he slurred. “But I do know that Imma take you home tonight.” 

“Consent is required for my company, bud.” she said. “And I’m not giving it to someone who is completely smashed.  Sorry but I’m smarter than that.” 

“Aw, come on!” he slurred. “Don’ be sucha prude.” 

“Hey, you know the rules.” Penny said. “Disrespect a lady and you buy a round.” 

“Excuse me.” came a voice. 

“What?!” the man slurred, turning around with lumbering movements only for a fist to connect with his jaw so solidly that it knocked him flat on his back. 

Bob stood there with a stern expression on his face. 

“The lady said no.  That’s enough of a reason to leave her alone.” he said before he looked at the others over the rim of his glasses. “Anyone else need to learn that lesson?” 

The pub had quieted the moment the sound of knuckles on jaw bone cut through the air but at the look on the lieutenant’s face… they all quietly went back to what they were doing. 

Y/N stood there, a smile working its way onto her lips and pushing up her chubby cheeks. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart?” Bob turned to ask her but stopped at her smile. “What?” 

“Oh, nothing, Bobby.  You’re just a dream is all.” she said and let loose a dreamy sigh to further prove her point. 

He flushed, red crawling up his neck. 

“Would you two lovebirds just go on, already?” Penny laughed. 

“My shift isn’t over for three hours.” Y/N laughed.  

“Yes but with all this business I’ve had to hire more help and he just walked through the door.” Penny said.  “So you and loverboy go take a walk on the beach before someone else notices you’re pretty and Tiger here breaks a jaw this time.”   

“Bobby?” Y/N questioned.  

“Hmm?” 

“Wanna take a walk on the beach with me?  It’s a little cold but I’m fairly certain you can keep me warm.” 

Bob couldn’t fight his smile when Bradley, and even Pete’s jaw dropped. 

“It would be my honor.” he said, holding out his hand to her. 

She whipped off her apron and handed it to Penny. 

“See you tomorrow.” Penny said. “Use protection.”

“Aw, but that’s no fun.” Y/N pouted. 

Bradley nearly choked to death on his own beer. 

Penny couldn’t stop laughing. 

Pete decided that he liked this new girl. 

And Bob, poor Bob, he fell in love all over again. 

She was a bit like him in a way. 

Sweet at first glance…. but a filthy little beast on the inside. 

Y/N happily took his hand and let him pull her close. 

She was all too willing to let him tuck her into his side and put his arm around her as they stepped out of the pub and into the night air. 

“Listen, sweetheart, you and I are going to have to have a conversation about you and that mouth of yours.  It’s doing all kinds of things to me.” he said, a smirk on his mouth. 

“Oh my mouth could do all sorts of fun things to you, Bobby. If you let me.” she said, a wild little giggle escaping her. 

His jaw ticked, “You’re perfect, you know that?” 

“Well, thank you but I assure you I’m not.”  she said.  “Where would the fun be in that?” 

“Oh, yes and we’re aware of the things you find fun aren’t we?” he said. 

“Look, I have a breeding kink.  I’m on birth control.  I also have a slight ‘I’d like to wear your hands as a necklace kink’. It’s not a big deal.” she said as if she were telling him her guilty pleasure was eating Oreos. 

Bob swallowed and he swallowed hard before turning his face to the sky, “Thank you, God.  Thank you.  I don’t know what I’ve done but this is the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.” 

“Yeah, Jesus.  Thanks.  He’s real cute, like real cute.  You really do be doing the best work.  Like he’s exactly my type too.  Down to the glasses and voice and everything! And apparently he’s got a dark side. You know I’m into that stuff sometimes.  I knew you loved me, Jesus. Thanks, homie.”  she said. 

Bob couldn’t help but smile at her, “Come on.  Let’s take that walk on the beach.” 

“Ok, but I’d also like to have some kisses on the beach too if it’s not too much to ask. I’m kinda trying to have a liplock with you here, Bobby.” she said.  

“Definitely not too much to ask.” he said. “And if the lady wants, and with your consent of course… the lady might just get some kisses elsewhere too.” 

“The lady gives her consent! The lady gives her consent!” 

And the two of them dissolved into fits of laughter as she took off running, he chased her and the both of them ended up with the sniffles and sand in places that it most definitely should not be. 

…..

…..

…..

….. 

Hello, loves!  I hope you enjoy this holiday content! 

Hope ya’ll are having a great day! 

Love you. 

— 

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K, Love you, Bye!

[seresinhangmanjake]

Jingle of The Bells

jake "hangman" seresin x reader

Summary: Your little girl is worried her father won’t make it home for Christmas.

Notes/warnings: this is the same family from the Oh, Baby universe, but it stands alone as well :) Mostly Fluff, a dash of angst.

This is for @sailor-aviator's Christmas Writing Challenge (my word is Bells)

Words: 2386

Your daughter was so much like your husband. You’d say too much if not for the fact that you loved them deeply. But there came a lot with their similarities. Double doses of determination, wit, and control. So, not unlike your husband, your little girl wanted to be the one to call the shots. However, circumstances didn’t always allow for that, and in those cases, Eve struggled the most.

---

“Mama, he’s supposed to be home!” 

Eve’s arms were wrapped tight around your neck as her wails echoed in your ear. You held on to her snuggly, her little legs tucked into the open space between your criss-crossed seated position on the floor. 

Until you’d joined her, she’d sat in the same spot all night, the teddy bear from her father settled in her lap as she stared at the front door. Despite the colored lights strung around your home, the pile of presents for her and her baby brother from Jake’s mother, grandmother, and team, and the cookies waiting to be decorated, Eve hadn’t moved. 

Every five minutes she would ask you the time, and each answer you gave her broke your heart right along with hers. She was too young to remember that Jake’s return schedule wasn’t always a guarantee. You were used to not making plans on the day you were originally told your husband would be coming home to you because promises in his line of work didn’t exist. There were no promises he would be gone only as long as he initially believed, no promises he would return on time, no promises he would return at all. But for so long Eve was spared all of that. The one time she remembered her father leaving, he did manage to come back when expected. She had never faced that disappointment. Until now. 

“Sweetie, it’s not Daddy’s fault,” you whispered. “I promise you he wants to be with us and that he’ll be home as soon as he can.”

“But it’s Christmas!”

Christmas Eve, actually, but to your daughter it was all the same. She had expectations. Cookie decorating, and milk pouring—a skill she’d asked Jake to help her perfect, not wanting to spill a drop for the reindeer. There was a letter she wanted to write to Santa, thanking him for bringing her Daddy home, which he had not, only adding to Eve’s bitterness. And it didn’t do her any good that before Jake left, she had also begged for a Christmas Eve pajama party where you all dressed in matching flannels, her baby brother included, and read a story before bed. 

Jake had done his best to promise those things to Eve, and in the same moment, with a single look at you, had silently communicated the very real possibility that none of it might happen. You knew it, expected it, and didn’t blame him for it, but it didn’t change that your little girl was in pain and her father wasn’t by her side to make it go away.

“I know. I know, Sweetie,” you said, gently rocking her back and forth. But your soothing could only be so effective, and for the night, she wouldn’t be able to take much more. “I think it’s time for bed now.”

“Why?” came out nasally, her crying having stuffed up her nose.

“Because you’ve been up for too long. You woke up hours earlier than you usually do and you didn’t take your nap today.”

She pulled her head back from the crook of your neck to look at you, and you wiped away the salty liquid from under her lashes. “But what about Daddy?”

“Daddy will be home soon. He’s just a little late, but that’s ok.”

“It is not.”

“It is, Sweetie,” you said, your own tears forming and beginning to blur your daughter’s face. “He’s trying so hard to be here, and that’s what matters.” When one of them fell, Eve’s finger rose to meet the droplet as it slowed its descent down your cheek. You grabbed her hand and rubbed the tear off her fingertip. “Come on, let’s go lay down.”

This time, with exhaustion setting in, she didn’t fight you, but she did wiggle from your hold to stand up on her own. Then she used the last of her energy to rush over to the coffee table where the small set of jingle bells she’d been dangling in front of her brother’s face to elicit his giggles was lying. Jake had bought her those bells last Christmas and immediately regretted bringing such incessant jingling into his home. 

Swallowing back your remaining tears, you watched as Eve wrapped her fingers around the velvet cord that kept the bells in a bunch before making her way into the hall and draping the cord over the knob of the front door. 

You nodded and stood. Her tears were not quite dried, and you knew she was desperate to keep her eyes on that door, but she still took your hand when you reached out for her. 

“I’ll tell you if I hear them,” you said before lifting her in your arms to carry her up to her room. 

---

In her weakened fight against sleep, Eve failed. When you finally had her tucked in her bed, passed out and releasing soft snores, you returned to the living room where you wrapped yourself up in a blanket and stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace. 

You did your best not to fall apart in front of your daughter, but Jake being gone ripped you to pieces as much as it did her. It didn’t help that his return was no less anxiety-inducing than his departure. The occasional unpredictability allowed your mind to wander to undesirable scenarios that, at this point, you knew weren’t likely, but the thought of them still terrified you. 

Jake was fine, though. You believed it, knew it. He was safe. The next person to open that door would be him, it was just a matter of when, and hoping it would be before the holiday was over. 

---

The clock had reached midnight only a handful of minutes before your eyelids grew heavy and begged to close. You fought sleep but, much like your daughter, reached your limit and succumbed. The consistent crackling of the fire combined with the warmth of the blanket lulled you slowly but effectively. It was too quiet and peaceful to resist, until a jingle clanged against another jingle which together thumped against something thick and solid. 

Your body jolted as you heard a muttered “Why so damn loud?”

“Jake?” you called, tossing the blanket aside and running toward the door. He barely had his duffle on the floor and his key out of the lock when you slammed into him. 

His arms were around you in an instant, slightly lifting you off the ground as his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. “God, you feel good,” was muffled in his deep voice, vibrating against your skin. His arms tightened. “So good.”

Your feet met the floor again, and with your hands on his cheeks, you guided his head back so you could press your lips to his. Your moan greeted his. Then you sighed into the kiss and melted further into his hold. No matter how many times you said goodbye, you were always relieved to find him the same as when he left. The feel of him, the taste of him, the chills you got when his hands wove into your hair—he never returned as anyone other than your Jake. 

He gave you two more pecks, then one final long kiss before he broke it to breathe, allowing his forehead to rest against yours while his chest expanded and deflated and expanded again to take in the air you’d stolen. “I missed you, Honey.”

A tear forged a cold trail down the flush of your cheek and slipped into the seam of your lips. “I missed you, too.”

Jake pressed a kiss to your forehead before meeting your eyes. “How are the kids?”

“Needing you,” you said as he wiped away the wet river from your skin. “Eve thought you weren’t going to make it home in time.”

Knowing your husband, it took only the barest of shifts in his stance, his brow, his eyes, for you to see his heart was breaking right along with Eve’s. He turned his head toward the staircase that led to the bedrooms of your home, his daughter’s in particular.

Inching up on your toes, you softly kissed the line of his jaw and, somehow, for the first time, noticed he had a little bit of stubble. His last day or two must have been exhausting if he hadn’t gotten a chance to shave. Likely, everyone was in such a rush to get home to their families that some basic rules went out the window. Your kiss traveled up to his cheek. 

“It’s ok, baby,” you whispered. “You’re with us now.”

“Did she cry?”

“She’ll forget all about it when she sees your face.”

Jake lightly hummed, unsatisfied with the state he’d forced upon his daughter. Without letting another beat pass, he took your hand, led you to your daughter's room, and eased her door open. 

The glow emitting from Eve’s new plane nightlight—an early Christmas gift the Daggers had sent from overseas—highlighted her sleeping face, and her delicate features were so peaceful you’d never have known she was devastated a few hours prior.

When you had let her open the gift from the team, you of course told her who it was from right away with a huge smile splitting your face. She was so excited as she pulled at the bow and shredded the paper that she laughed louder than you had heard in quite some time. Her eyes went wide and she hopped up on her feet to fly the plane around the room. She giddily showed her infant brother—who received his own nightlight in the form of a train so the gifts would be unique to each child—before she plopped down on the carpet in your living room to examine every detail of the elaborately designed light. 

And then she began to sob. 

She sobbed for missing her daddy and aunts and uncles; for missing the many times Jake had taken his family to see the planes he flew, which closely matched the shape of Eve’s gift. She sobbed until you took her upstairs for bed, helped her plug in the light, and told her a story of her daddy seeing that plane and that train and immediately thinking of his baby girl and little boy. 

That was only three weeks ago, and Eve’s angst had grown with the passing days. But the little light helped her rest at night as long as she completed her ritual of crouching down in front of the radiating glow and whispering a soft “goodnight Daddy” before settling into bed. 

It did help for a while, but it didn’t cease the daily return of her tears. And this night, fairly so, was by far the worst. Her disappointment made the light its least effective since she’d received it. 

Jake stepped into the room and took a seat at the edge of her bed. “I shouldn’t wake her,” he said as he brushed a blonde curl out of her face. From that light touch, Eve stirred, but then she stilled again, releasing a soft breath.

Your husband sighed right along with her. You knew how badly he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her tight. He needed that. He could see her in front of him, and from those inhales and exhales, could hear her, and he could feel the soft curls of her hair, but nothing compared to feeling her little heartbeat beating against his, or hearing her sweet voice, or seeing her bright smile. That he’d have to wait for morning to truly greet his daughter after months away was an ache you would never know. Yes, you ached for him when he was gone, and you knew he did for you, but it just wasn’t the same. This was his child, a piece of him that he’d gone without for so long. It was a powerless feeling. She was right there, but being the father he was, Jake wouldn’t disturb her for his own sake. 

Carefully, Jake leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Merry Christmas, baby girl.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “Would you like to go see our son?” Another one of his children that he’d undoubtedly refuse to disturb, no matter how much he wanted to see the little pair of eyes that matched yours staring up at him. 

Jake nodded, gently squeezing Eve’s tiny hand. He was about to stand when you both heard a soft, “Daddy?”

Your heads whipped in Eve’s direction to find her fists rubbing at her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered as her vision adjusted to the darkness, but when she saw the darkened figure sitting by her side, Eve didn’t second guess herself. She kicked at her covers and leapt across the bed with the speed and agility of a bunny rabbit. 

“Daddy!” 

Jake chuckled as he caught her. “Hi, baby girl.”

Little hands reached up to his face to verify his realness. They ran up and down the scruff she’d rarely ever seen, making Jake’s cheeks contort in funny shapes, and then she grinned. “You came home.”

You couldn’t see all of Jake’s face, but you heard his sniffle as he tugged your daughter closer to his chest. “Of course, I did.”

“Mama said you would.”

“Well, Mama’s usually right, isn’t she?” he said, turning to look at you and confirming the redness that was brightening the green of his irises. He winked before returning his attention to his daughter.

Eve nodded vigorously then threw her arms around his neck, squeezing with all of her might. “I like Santa again.”

“When didn’t you like Santa?” Jake asked as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.

Eve pulled back. Her smile was still in place as she patted the tops of his shoulders with both hands. “Today," she said. "But you are home so he’s ok.”

---

A/N: so i have another christmas challenge fic coming that is Rooster x reader, which is my very first Rooster fic so hopefully I do alright. Then my focus will be on The One I Want and some Thorn (Expendables 3) fics :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @eloquentdreamer @jessicab91 @rosedurin @novagreen04 @memeorydotcom @purplevortexx @sgt-barnesveins @books-are-escapes

[crooked-jes]

Bradley and Jake making pierogis (with cabbage and mushrooms) for Christmas 🥟

[torchflies]

(LOOK GUYS! I DID A CHRISTMAS! 🎄)

“It was December 24th, 19 —”

“—86.” Maverick finishes, with a look of such absolute crushing grief on his face that all Jake can do is gather his stuff and leave as fast as humanly possible, even as his boss begs him to stay, practically tripping over his own feet to beat him to the door. But Jake is fast for a heart patient and he's out of that room lickety-split.

He just needed to know for sure, to know for sure that it was the same Bradshaw — that Bradley really is the son of his donor.

That his heart, unlike his love life, isn’t totally and irrevocably fucked.

(Thirty years ago, Jake Seresin got a heart).

[writing-until-i-drop]

Sneak Peek At "A Stepdad For Christmas"

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x single mom! femOC

we've still got so much Jake and Daisy to get through before we meet Olivia and Bonnie but here's a little something

“Look at the eye candy,” Olivia’s fifteen-year-old daughter Bonnie tilted down her heart-shaped shades to get a better look at some Navy men out for a shirtless jog.

“Honey, everyone in uniform is too old for you. As in illegal, too old for you.” She whined then slowly turned to look at her mom with an evil grin, one that Olivia knew did not bode well for her. 

“Mom, I just figured out what I want for Christmas.” Christmas was always a big deal for them and Bonnie always gave her mom a bullet point and color-coded list of what she wanted. But never this early in the year.

“It’s July-”

“I want a hot stepdad,” Olivia debated crashing the car. Only for a split second but still. It would be easier and God would forgive her. He knew what he did when he made teenage daughters. 

“No.” 

“C’mon, Mom. You and dad boinked once to get me and that was it. We share a wall, I know there’s been no one else.” 

“What did I do to deserve this?” Olivia pleaded with whatever God was laughing at her. 

“You helped a gay man con his homophobic father into leaving him millions in inheritance,” Bonnie deadpanned. “That’s why I’m like this.” Olivia rolled her blue eyes, the same blue eyes that were looking back at her in the passenger seat. “But back to it, you need to get laid and I need something that’ll make all the girls want to hang out with the new girl. So hot stepdad, get me one.” 

Olivia was ready to threaten her daughter’s life in the most loving way possible when she caught a glimpse of a man in a khaki uniform climbing out of a blue, vintage Bronco. He was absolutely stunning, a specimen of tanned skin, muscles, and wavy hair that made Olivia suddenly feel very patriotic as he slid off a pair of tinted aviators. Do I have a thing for mustaches? She had never found them attractive before but this mystery man’s mustache was definitely working for her. 

“We’ll see what Santa can do.” Like he heard her, the man turned and caught her eye, winking. Olivia’s cheeks burned, a warmth spreading through her. She might have been married to a gay man who had a string of secret boyfriends but between raising Bonnie and keeping up appearances with Henry in public, she had never “cheated.” 

“Mom, the light’s green,” Bonnie smacked her arm. “We should get coffee before stopping at Aunt Pen’s.” Olivia hummed in acknowledgement, maneuvering to the directions the GPS was dictating over the speaker, her mind consumed with thoughts of mustached men in Navy uniforms. Well. One man in particular. 

Masterlist

Want to join the taglist? Just ask!

[roosterforme]

Pink Christmas Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley just wants to make Christmas special for your daughter, and he's nervous he might have blown his cover as Santa. As Christmas Eve approaches, he pulls out all the stops for the two of you. But will you let him give Ellie everything from her wishlist?

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

Length: 7000 words

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

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

Once you started kissing Bradley, everything came back to you. Fingers in his soft hair, your body pressed to his, and his tongue softly caressing yours. You knew just what to do, and you didn't want to stop. When his big hands came to rest on your back, you couldn't even remember why you'd been nervous in the first place.

Your thumb found the rough stubble and slightly raised scars on his cheek at the same time you heard your front door knob rattling. When you pulled away from Bradley's lips, you looked up at his handsome face and smiled, completely distracted as your daughter let herself inside. You pulled free from Bradley's warm embrace just as you heard Ellie ask him, "Who are you?"

Bradley licked his lips as he examined your face with his pretty brown eyes. Then he turned his full attention to your child. "Are you Ellie?" he asked, and when she nodded and set her backpack down, he reached out to shake her hand. "My name's Bradley. I'm a handyman from the North Pole."

"A handyman?" she asked, shaking his hand firmly. "What does that mean?"

"Means Santa sent me here to set up your pink tree, because he got a little busy this week," he replied so smoothly, you almost believed him yourself. 

Ellie gasped and looked past him into the living room. "Santa got my tree!" she gushed. "Mommy!"

"Yeah," you replied with a laugh. "Santa really knows what he's doing."

Bradley looked at you with a little bit of a blush coloring his face, and you were shocked to find that you instinctively wanted to reach for his hand and kiss that pretty shade of pink on his cheeks. You barely managed to stop yourself as he took a step toward you. 

"That was close," he muttered, watching Ellie run her hands along all of the ornaments that she could reach. But you were still busy looking at him, because his response to your daughter was what had you melting inside. He had a soft smile on his lips as he laughed. "I think she likes her tree."

You rubbed your fingers along the back of his hand, and his gaze met yours immediately before falling to your lips. "I think so, too."

He nodded toward the door. "I should go," he said slowly. You didn't know how to tell him that for some reason you knew your house would feel too empty if he left right now. When Ellie spoke up, you could have hugged her for her brilliant idea. 

"Mommy, is Bradley allowed to stay for pizza?"

You let go of his hand as Ellie came back over with one of the pink heart ornaments. Then you and she both looked up at him as he asked, "Am I allowed to stay?" He looked a bit like a wayward puppy as he added, "I love pizza."

Your heart swelled at the idea of him in your house a little longer, maybe sharing a few more secret touches. "Of course you can stay."

Ellie reached out and took him by the hand, dragging him toward her playroom, and he went willingly as she asked, "Do they have pizza at the North Pole? Which one of Santa's elves is your favorite? I liked Phoenix the best, but I liked grumpy Hangman, too."

Her voice faded as she rambled on, and you could hear Bradley laughing. Then you were alone in the pink glow of the tree as it grew darker outside, and you took your phone out to order pizza just like you always did on Friday nights. But for the first time in a long time, you couldn't stop smiling. 

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

"I've never played dolls before," Bradley said as Ellie picked one up to brush its hair. 

"That's okay," she replied, handing him a different doll. "I'll show you how. It's not really that hard. Just brush her hair and make her look pretty for the party we're taking them to."

Bradley grunted and picked up one of the toy brushes. "I think I can handle that."

A few minutes later, he was very into coordinating which outfit his doll was going to wear to the birthday party they were going to be attending. "How does this look?" he asked her, and she handed him a pink ribbon. 

"She needs a bow in her hair."

"Right," he muttered, and he tried a few times, but his fingers seemed to be too big to get it right. 

As he was struggling with it, Ellie paused what she was doing and said, "You seem really familiar."

"Do I?" he asked cautiously, still fighting the bow and hoping she didn't immediately realize that he was in fact Santa Claus. 

She was quiet for a beat before she said, "I think you remind me of my dad." Bradley's eyes met hers, but she didn't look sad or upset, just resigned. "He was good at dolls, too. But not tying the bows."

Then Bradley felt your hand on his shoulder as you said, "Do you need a hand?" He nodded and passed the doll to you, watching as you made it look so easy to tie the perfect bow. "Pizza will be here soon," you said softly, handing the doll back to him. 

"Thanks," he whispered, still surprised by your daughter's words. Somehow it didn't make him feel nervous or weird to be compared to your late husband. But it did come with a sense of responsibility of sorts. He already ordered Ellie her pink art kit, but he found himself just wanting to spend time with the two of you. The kisses had been one thing, but playing dolls and eating pizza seemed natural as well.

When the food arrived, Bradley hopped up and tried to pay for it, but you'd already put it on your credit card. So he snatched your wallet out of your hand and pulled tip money out of his own for the delivery guy. And if he was able to get his arms around you in the process and press a soft kiss to your cheek, it was just a bonus for him. Then he watched you cut a slice of pizza in half for your daughter as you tried to hide your smile from him. 

"Where did the flowers come from?" Ellie asked, pointing at the big bouquet and the smaller one. 

"Santa sent them with me," he replied, picking up the small one so she could smell them. "He told me that you and your mom both like pink."

"Santa knows everything," she said as she nodded, and Bradley smiled down at her. "I want to eat by the tree," she insisted when you handed her a plate and a juice box. 

"Yeah," Bradley agreed as he picked out some slices of pizza. "Me too." So you handed him a juice box as well, and he followed Ellie back to the living room with a smile. The three of you sat on the floor in a little circle next to the tree, and Bradley regaled the two of you with made up stories about the North Pole. Ellie was in stitches, and you bit your lip every time she laughed, your smile absolutely infectious. 

Bradley ended up eating Ellie's pizza crust as you cleaned up the plates, and he knew it was time for him to leave. It was late. But he was nervous he wouldn't see you before Christmas Eve when he planned to come by as Santa. 

"Mommy, can Bradley come back and look at Christmas lights with us?"

You paused as Bradley stood up next to the pink tree, and then you said, "Ellie, I'm not even sure where to go for that in San Diego."

"I could ask Santa," Bradley blurted out. "I'm sure he'd know the best spots in any city to see Christmas lights."

"Yeah!" Ellie agreed. "Santa would know!"

You only hesitated for a second before you said, "Only if it's not going to take up too much of your time."

Bradley patted Ellie on the head and said, "I can make time for that. Let me get back to the North Pole and ask Santa where the best lights are. Thanks for teaching me how to play dolls." Then he met your gaze and said, "And thanks for the pizza."

"It's our pleasure," you told him, echoing his own words from the other day. 

He swallowed hard; the urge to lean in and kiss you was so strong. He fought it though, because he knew he had another excuse to see you both again soon. Then he forced himself toward the door. "I'll be in touch," he promised, and when he opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch, he noticed Ellie's gaze settle on his Bronco, a look of curiosity on her face.

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

You were a mess the rest of the weekend, texting Bradley late into the night on both Friday and Saturday after Ellie was in bed. You found yourself continually peeking at the selfie he sent you like a kid trying to find their Christmas presents early. He was just that damn good looking.

More importantly, he was sweet. He had invited you and your daughter to join him on a drive down to Imperial Beach to look at lights on Tuesday night, and of course you'd immediately agreed. 

Ellie and I wouldn't miss it.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I'll pick you up at six. I already have a little treat for the ride.

You giggled and flopped down on your bed, eyeing your wedding photo across the room. "I really like him," you said out loud with a grin. Then you texted Bradley back.

What kind of treat?

He must have been holding his phone, his response came that quickly.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Something pretty and sweet, just like you. I absolutely can't get you off of my mind. Not that I'm trying very hard.

"Okay," you said out loud, finding it easier to give yourself a little pep talk when he got you flustered like this. "You can do this. Be cool."

I thought you looked cute in your Santa beard, but your real mustache is even better.

There. Flirtatious but not too much. A solid response. You gave yourself a little pat on the shoulder. But then he upped the ante just a tiny bit by sending a selfie of him blushing. You groaned, because his mustache was immaculate, and you wanted to get your lips all over his cheeks and see if you could make his blush deepen.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I've been thinking about our first kiss on repeat. When Santa shows up on Christmas Eve, are you going to kiss him, too?

You laughed as you texted him back.

Yes. I think I have a crush on both of you.

Then you got yourself into bed, knowing it would feel like a very long wait for Tuesday night to arrive, but you fell asleep with a smile on your lips when he wrote back.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Then I feel doubly lucky.

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

It was honestly a good thing you had so much to do for work, because it took your mind off of your nerves. But when Tuesday evening finally arrived, your hands were shaking as you tried to get ready in front of your bathroom mirror. You kept looking at the most recent text in your thread with Bradley, and it was bringing out your anxious energy. It was a simple message with a photo attached, but now you were second guessing everything. 

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I hope I look good in pink.

He did. He looked fantastic in his pink and black floral print shirt. That wasn't the issue. It was your daughter's words echoing through your mind as she stood in the bathroom doorway that had you rattled.

"Hey, Mommy? Is Bradley going to be your boyfriend?"

You looked at her as you tried to put on some lip gloss. "Do you want him to be?"

"Maybe," she replied, eyes narrowing a bit. "I just need to do a little more research and make sure he's the one I asked for."

You almost laughed. You would have if you weren't so nervous. "What kind of research? And what do you mean the one you asked for?"

Ellie just shrugged in response. "I'll take care of it. You look pretty, Mommy."

Your throat felt tight as you swallowed against the thing that was really bothering you and whispered, "If Bradley ever does become my boyfriend, he's not going to replace the memory of your dad. Understand?"

Ellie nodded and sighed sadly. "I understand. But you said he's not coming back."

"He's not," you confirmed softly. The sharp, stabbing pangs of sadness had dulled a bit over time, however you still felt one now. But you'd also spend days doing some soul searching over the fact that you knew you were attracted to everything about Bradley. You didn't feel as hesitant around him as you thought you would after losing your husband. After more than a year alone with Ellie, you felt like this could be something.

Then your daughter helped you push your thoughts aside as she said, "Bradley was pretty good at playing dolls, and I could teach him how to be even better. And he looked like he was good at holding your hand."

"Oh," you gasped, setting your makeup aside. You didn't think she'd seen that, but she didn't seem upset in the least about it. "Yeah... he was good at it."

"Is it almost time to go look at lights?" she asked you just as your doorbell rang.

"Oh god," you groaned softly, butterflies and unidentified nerves erupting inside you. What if you did something stupid tonight? What if you didn't even know what to talk about?

"He's here!" Ellie called as she ran for the front door with you right behind her. And when she swung the door open wide, there he was in his pink shirt with a bright smile on his face and two, oversized pink candy canes in one hand. 

"Hey, Ellie," he replied easily as she beamed up at him. Then he looked at you and his smile faltered a bit. He swallowed, and it took him a few seconds to greet you. When he did, it was just one raspy word. "Hi."

"Hi," you replied softly, and the butterflies were still going wild, but the nerves were replaced with longing. "Bradley."

Ellie was reaching for the candy canes, and he patted the top of her head, but he was still looking at you. "Hi," he repeated, and you couldn't help but laugh. "See, talking to you in person is way better than texting, even though you take all the thoughts out of my brain and all the words out of my mouth."

You ducked your head to the side and covered your embarrassingly large grin with your hands as Ellie asked, "Are these for my mom and me? Santa's usually the one who brings us pink treats."

"Oh," Bradley replied, "well, these ones are from me. I hope that's okay. I saw these fancy candy canes at the North Pole sweet shop and thought of the two of you."

Ellie was already unwrapping hers, and Bradley held the other one up right in front of his chest with a grin, coaxing you closer. "Thank you for the treats. And for taking us to look at lights," you said, letting your fingers meet his as you took your candy cane. 

"It's my pleasure."

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

Bradley didn't know really how booster seats worked, but you moved one from your car to his Bronco, and then Ellie climbed in. 

"Are we ready to look at lights?" he asked as he started the engine. 

"Yes!" she replied from the backseat. "Did Santa tell you the best place to go?"

"He absolutely did. And he remembered that you liked pink, so I'm thinking there might be a special surprise for you."

"Special surprise?" you asked from next to him in the front seat. It had been so long since he'd had even one passenger let alone two. When your fingers came creeping across the leather seat, he reached for your tentative hand and held it tight in his. 

"It's a surprise for you, too," he promised, hoping you had no idea what the grand finale of the drive through light show was going to be. 

You laced the fingers of your left hand with his right, and Bradley had to take a calming breath. He hadn't felt this strongly about someone in a long time, and he just met you. But his brain had already been filling in the blanks of how good it might feel to be around you the longer he got to know you, because the chemistry was definitely there. 

He glanced at your profile at a red light and reached with his left hand to turn on the radio to the station that was playing Christmas music. Then he pulled your hand a little closer to him as the light turned green, and he could see you smiling out of the corner of his eye. "How's that candy cane?" he asked Ellie, glancing in the rearview mirror. 

"Good! It tastes like cotton candy."

"Do you like cotton candy?" he asked, noting you were still holding your treat in your right hand.

"All kids like cotton candy!" Ellie squealed with a laugh.

"I like cotton candy. Does that make me a kid?" he asked her as he turned left toward the beach, the darkest streaks of pink and purple running along the horizon behind the setting sun.

She giggled in delight and so did you. "No, you're too big," Ellie told him. "Nice try."

"Harsh," Bradley muttered as he made another turn, and then the enormous light display along the beach came into view. "Okay, here we are." He turned your way as he pulled up to the kiosk to pay, saying, "I'm going to need my hand back."

You immediately pulled your hand away from him and hurriedly said, "No problem," as he reached for his wallet. 

He chuckled and said, "It's coming right back to you once I pay, so don't get too comfy."

"Oh, I can pay!" you tried to insist as you scrambled for your bag on the floor by your feet, giving Bradley enough time to hand over some cash and pull through the gate toward the light displays. 

"Absolutely not," he said as you gave up and tossed your bag back to the floor. "Now where did your hand go?"

You turned to look at him before glancing back at Ellie who was mesmerized by the lights all around the Bronco. "Right here." And then Bradley felt your hand slip into his grasp where it already felt like it belonged. 

"That's better."

He barely took his foot off the brake pedal to keep coasting forward behind the car in front of him, and he hummed along to the music on the radio. Ellie's commentary from the backseat was pretty amusing with her occasional interjections of "Frosty!" and "Rudolph!" 

The light display was massive, and there was a long line of cars in front of them, which was great. Bradley didn't want to rush taking the two of you back home again. Especially not when you leaned in a little closer to him and whispered, "Thanks for this. She's having a great time."

Bradley came to a stop in front of a lit up display of ice skating penguins and turned to face you. "So am I. Been having a pretty great time since I met the two of you."

You whimpered, and Bradley squeezed your hand a little tighter as he fought the desire to lean in closer and kiss you. Then you whispered his name, and he nearly lost the battle. "Bradley. Are you still going to want to see us after Christmas?"

When he opened his mouth to tell you he wanted to see you every day, Ellie gasped in the backseat. "It looks like Santa's sleigh!"

Bradley turned to face forward, and sure enough, Santa's sleigh was just ahead, and the other cars had started to move up as well. "Sure does," he replied to her as he coasted forward so she could see. Now you were looking at the lights as well, and Bradley watched all the colors dance across your face. When you tilted your head to look at him, he said, "I'm going to want to see you as much as you'll let me."

A soft smile curled along your lips as he kept moving the Bronco forward. You didn't respond, but your fingers laced with his again, and Bradley could feel your thumb stroking along his. He took that as a pretty good sign, and then you and Ellie both started to laugh at the same time.

"Hey," Bradley said when he saw them, too. "A bunch of pink flamingos for my two pink loving girls."

"I love them!" Ellie gushed, clapping her hands as Bradley pulled up between two light displays of hundreds of flamingos wearing Santa hats. "So much pink!"

Then your lips were on his cheek before brushing back toward his ear, and he had to stop the Bronco again as your hand grazed his knee. "This is the best," you laughed softly. 

If you wanted to, he'd bring you both back tomorrow and the next night and the night after that. He wanted to watch your face illuminated by the pink lights as you bit your lip and smiled. He wanted to hear Ellie's laughter from the backseat while she sang Jingle Bells. 

Bradley moved the Bronco as slowly as he could so you could enjoy the flamingos for as long as possible. Then he drove through fake snow being blasted at all of the cars which somehow made him feel like he was back in Virginia again.

"I do not miss the snow," you told him, cradling his hand like you did this all the time. He very carefully pulled back out onto the road using one hand, because the last thing he wanted was to let go of you. 

"But Mommy, what if it's snowing at the North Pole?" Ellie asked. "How will we visit Bradley?"

Shit. He didn't know what to say, because he didn't want to confuse her or mess this up. "Maybe after the busy holiday, Santa will let me spend a little more time in San Diego so you don't have to brave the snow again."

Ellie hummed skeptically from the backseat as Bradley wound his way back through the neighborhoods on the outskirts of the city. "Yeah... that might work," she replied. "I'm going to have to stay up on Christmas Eve and have a conversation with Santa."

"I'll remind him to bring his A game," Bradley muttered. "Now let me drop the two of you off since you still have school tomorrow."

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

You watched Bradley lift Ellie out of his Bronco, and then he moved her booster seat back to your car for you. When he walked both of you up to the porch, he had his hand at the middle of your back, his fingers teasing at your waist in the cool, night air. When you approached the front door, however, he knelt down in front of Ellie and asked, "Did you have fun?"

"Yes!"

"Should I tell Santa that was a good light display?"

"Yes!"

"Did you like the flamingos?"

"So much!" Then she flung her arms around his neck and said, "Thank you." The fact that your daughter seemed perpetually happy around this man whether he was dressed as Santa or just being himself had you nervously wiping your palms along your jeans.

"You're welcome. I'll see you soon?" he asked, patting the top of her head as he stood, eyeing you as he asked the question. 

"Yes," you answered quickly as you opened the front door. You paused once Ellie walked inside, and you turned toward her. "Start getting ready for bed. I'll be up in just a minute."

"Okay. Bye, Bradley."

"Bye, Ellie," he replied with a laugh, but you were already pulling the door closed, leaving you and him alone on the porch together. 

"Hey, I had a great time-" he began, but you cut him off when you lunged for him. You couldn't help it. Bradley caught you in his big arms, and wrapped you up tight against him as he grinned. "-with you tonight."

Your fingers were tangled in his soft curls as your lips mashed against his, but even with you pressed right up to his body in desperation, he was a gentleman. His hands were splayed across your back, rubbing up and down, slowly bunching the fabric of your shirt.

"Me too," you promised between kisses, nodding slightly as you nibbled on his lip. He hummed softly as your hand drifted down to the back of his neck, and he deepened the kiss. His tongue tasted sweet, and you felt beautiful and desirable when you were with him.

But you broke the kiss and whispered, "I need to get Ellie in bed."

"Right. Right." He was still holding you close, still slowly rubbing your back with his hands. And then you kissed him one more time, because you needed to. It was soft and perfect just like Friday when you helped him decorate the tree. "I'll see you soon," he whispered as his nose grazed your cheek.

You felt your whole body tingle as he pressed one more slightly rougher kiss to your lips before turning back to his Bronco. You had to fight the urge to chase him down for more, waving like an idiot as he pulled away instead. There were just a few more days until Christmas, and you wondered if it would be too forward of you to tell him that he's the only thing you wanted for yourself this year.

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

Bradley took a deep breath as he pulled on his red flight suit and grabbed his matching hat and white beard. It was getting late for Ellie to still be awake, but you'd promised him it was okay to stop by around 9:30. He wasn't quite sure what to expect, but he hoped she was still excited to see Santa. 

With Christmas music playing and wrapped gifts on the front seat, Bradley spent the drive over trying to decide how to explain to your daughter that he was the same person when he was dressed as Santa and when he was just himself. Just Bradley. And then he started to get antsy. Just Bradley. He didn't have much to offer to either of you. Just a guy who occasionally got deployed and suddenly liked the color pink.

When he parked in front of your place, he sat for a minute, afraid he was going to do or say the wrong thing. If Ellie still believed in the magic of Santa Claus, he didn't want to take that from her. He glanced toward your front window and saw movement. The two of you were dancing in front of the lit up pink tree, and a smile found its way to his face. 

"Just be Santa," he said out loud, snatching up the presents and closing the door behind him. 

With his beard and hat securely in place, he knocked and immediately heard Ellie squeal. "It's Santa! I just know it!"

And then she was there, swinging the door open so quickly, Bradley was surprised it stayed on the hinges. "Merry Christmas," he greeted, getting the wind knocked out of him by the five year old launching herself at him and by how cute both of you looked in your matching pink snowflake pajamas. 

"Santa!" Ellie gushed, reaching for his hand to lead him inside. "We made you some heart shaped cookies with icing!"

"I love that," he replied, but his eyes were stuck on you. Bradley could just tell you'd welcome a kiss from him right now, and he wanted to give you one, but instead he followed you over to the tree.

"Cookies and some hot chocolate," you told him, picking up a plate of sweets and that same mug he drank from last week. "Just for you, Santa."

Bradley set down the presents, including the art kit filled with every shade of pink paint anyone could possibly want. That's when he noticed that instead of eating the pink candy cane he gave you on Tuesday night, you'd hung it on one of the tree branches. He was already smiling when he saw the little box with a gift tag next to his boot that said "TO: SANTA. FROM: ELLIE."

"This is for me?" he asked, bending to pick it up. 

Ellie nodded, looking up at him hopefully. "I made you something."

"Well then I'm sure I'll love it," he replied. 

He was just starting to unwrap his gift when Ellie turned toward you and asked, "Mommy, would it be okay if I talk to Santa alone for a minute?"

Bradley's fingers stilled as you nodded and softly said, "I'll just go sit on the steps." You bent to kiss the top of Ellie's head before smiling softly at Bradley, and then you were gone. And he was alone with a child who was eyeing him with such curiosity, it made his heart beat a little faster.

Ellie tugged on his hand until he was kneeling, and then she leaned in a little closer. Bradley felt like he was under a microscope as she examined him, but then she smiled. 

"You were a very convincing fake Santa. But after you brought the tree over, I knew it was you right away, Bradley." 

"You did?" he asked, heart plummeting as her words washed over him. If he just ruined Santa Claus for this adorable little girl, he didn't know what he'd do with himself. 

"Yeah. I figured out that you were the same guy since both Santa and Bradley drive the same car and have the same voice."

Oh, shit. His eyes went wide as she pulled his beard down below his chin and smiled at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't actually intend to lie to you about being a North Pole handyman."

"I know," she said, taking his gift from his hand and opening it up for him. Inside the box were two Christmas ornaments. They were made out of construction paper with popsicle sticks glued to look like pictures in frames, and there were ribbons attached to the top so they could be hung. 

"Ellie," he whispered, taking them both out of the box to inspect them more closely in the soft, pink light. She'd taken the time to draw pictures on both of them. The first one said ELLIE and had a well drawn F/A-18 and some elves along with a pink candy cane and three flamingos. The other ornament said SANTA and was complete with pink flowers, a pink tree and a picture of a man. "Is that supposed to be me?" he asked her softly.

"Yeah. But just you, Bradley. Not really Santa."

"Thanks," he muttered, not sure how to tell a five year old that this was perhaps the best gift he'd ever received in his adult life.

But now she was standing with her hands on her hips. "I need to know what happened when you went to talk to the real Santa after the air show. And don't lie to me this time."

"What do you mean?" he asked, heart beating faster again.

"Since you got permission to dress as a pretend Santa for kids like me at the air show, you get to sometimes talk to the real Santa Claus, right?"

Oh. Maybe he hadn't completely fucked this up after all. "Of course. That's how it works when you get chosen to be a Santa representative."

"Yeah," she said, nodding like a CEO closing a business deal. "That's what I thought."

"You're a very smart kid," he told her with a smile, but clearly she wasn't quite finished with him yet. 

"So? What happened when you talked to him? Did Santa know you'd be perfect? Is that why you kept coming back to our house to see my mom?"

"Perfect?" he asked cautiously.

She grinned at him as she said, "Yeah. The perfect boyfriend for my mom. The one I asked for."

Bradley was speechless. That's what he wanted to be. Your boyfriend. Maybe more than that someday. His eyes roamed Ellie's face, so innocent in the way she still believed there was magic here. But maybe there actually was. "Yes. That's exactly what happened, Kiddo. I went to meet with Santa, and I told him what was on your wishlist. And I told him how important it was that you got everything you wanted since you're always on the nice list."

She clapped her hands and bobbed up and down. "And he knew you'd be the perfect boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Bradley said, throat tight with emotion. "He knew I'd fall for your mom and you and the color pink and just all of it."

She hugged him tight, and he scooped her up and hung both homemade ornaments on the pink tree. "Merry Christmas," she whispered.

"Merry Christmas," he replied. "Think it's okay if I talk to your mom now?"

She nodded, and he carried her to the stairs where you were sitting with your own mug of hot chocolate waiting for them. "You ready for bed, Ellie?" you asked, looking between your daughter and Bradley with his beard down below his chin with some concern. 

Then Ellie kissed his cheek and said, "Goodnight, Bradley," as he set her down on the steps next to you. 

"Night, Ellie," he replied, and he watched her kiss you too before climbing the stairs and going into a room that was lit by the soft glow of a nightlight. And then you and he were alone, and you were sliding over to make room on the step next to you.

Your hesitant smile made him a little lightheaded as you asked, "So she knows you're Santa from the air show?"

He chuckled softly. "Something like that. But don't worry, she still knows that the real Santa exists. She's got quite the imagination."

"Yeah, I don't think I'll ever have to worry about that," you replied, setting down your mug and reaching for his hand. It was the easy way you laced your fingers with his once again that spurred him on. You were grinning as he leaned in to kiss you, his white beard tickling your chin. "Hi, Santa," you whispered against his lips, and he just knew this was how it was supposed to be.

When he pulled away from you with a smile of his own, he said, "There's something I need to tell you. About the day we met."

Your brow creased in concern, and he leaned in to kiss you there as you asked, "What about the day we met?"

He wanted to be delicate with you and take his time. It's what you deserved. You and Ellie both. But he also wanted to once again make his feelings crystal clear for you. "That first day, at the air show... when I took Ellie up to sit in my jet, she asked for a pink tree and an art kit with pink paint." Bradley paused, stroking his rough fingers along your soft cheek before he added, "But she also asked Santa to bring a boyfriend for you."

You gasped. "She did? My five year old asked Santa to bring me a boyfriend?" You buried your face in your hands and groaned softly. "That's so embarrassing."

Bradley gently peeled your fingers away from your face as you grimaced at him, but he just laughed. "It's not embarrassing. It's sweet." He waited until you were looking at him again, even though you were nibbling on your lip a little anxiously. "And the thing is... somehow, I think it's supposed to be me."

When your lips parted on a soft sound, your face looked hopeful, and Bradley squeezed your hand as you barely whispered, "You?"

"Yeah. Me," he told you with a little laugh. "I'm nothing special, but I'm hoping you'll let me give Ellie everything she wants for Christmas?"

You slowly climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, your eyes bright and sincere. "You want to be my boyfriend?"

"Desperately," he promised. "And I'm not trying to replace Ellie's dad, and we can do this at whatever pace works for the two of you. But I think this was meant to be."

And then you were smiling against his lips and kissing him as he held you on the steps. You laughed as you pushed your fingers through his hair, sending his red hat down the stairs followed by his beard.

"Then I guess Ellie can have everything from her wish list."

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

One year later....

"The tree looks beautiful," Ellie said, hanging up the two ornaments she made last year as you and Bradley each sipped mugs of hot chocolate. The pink Christmas tree stood tall and proud in the same spot it had occupied until February, when you finally convinced her it had to come down after Valentine's Day. 

Bradley had gone overboard, perhaps even more so than last year, coming home from work a few hours ago on Christmas Eve with more pink ornaments for your daughter to add to her collection. 

"You're spoiling us," you told your boyfriend, and you watched a grin bloom on his lips. But maybe you were spoiling him back just as much. This year, you and Ellie had on matching pink pajamas covered in gingerbread cookies, and Bradley had coordinating pants to wear with his white undershirt. It felt good to have him here, like he was always meant to step in when he did. 

"I love spoiling you," he whispered, taking your empty mug and collecting you in his arms. "I love spoiling both my girls."

You and he took things slow at first. He spent the night with you last Christmas Eve, his limbs tangled up with yours in your bed. But your clothing had stayed on, and his lips never went further south than your neck. After that, you fumbled your way through a few dates with him; sometimes Ellie joined the two of you, and sometimes she stayed with Bradley's best friend and former elf, Natasha. But you quickly learned that you hadn't forgotten how to be with someone intimately. All you needed was the right someone who would let you realize that for yourself.

Bradley moved in with you a few months ago, and you hadn't looked back. He was becoming an expert at playing dolls with Ellie, and he made both of you so happy, sometimes your face hurt from smiling so much. He wasn't a replacement, and he wasn't an improvement, but he was something you knew you couldn't live without now.

"Hey, I almost forgot," he murmured. "I grabbed two more things on my way home today. I'll be right back." 

When he left the living room, you walked over to Ellie and kissed the top of her head. "I'm really happy we got Bradley for Christmas last year," she said, making you laugh.

"Me too. It's a good thing you asked Santa to bring him for me."

She looked up at you with wide eyes and a little smirk. "Just wait until you find out what I asked for this year."

You looked down at her with an amused smile. "What did you ask for this year?"

But she was distracted now as Bradley came back in with a soft smile on his lips and two small pink boxes. He knelt down in front of Ellie and handed her the bigger one, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Kiddo," he whispered.

"Merry Christmas," she told him, and when she opened the box, you gasped. 

"Bradley."

He got your daughter a rose gold necklace with a pink diamond charm, and Ellie squealed in delight when she saw it. "It's so pretty!"

"Just like you," he said, taking it out of the box and clasping it around her neck. She wrapped one hand around the charm and smiled as Bradley turned to look up at you. "I got something for your mom, too."

At first, when he handed you the smaller box, you were convinced it was a necklace to match Ellie's. But then you met his eyes, and you knew it wasn't. Your heart was racing as you looked at him, fingers shaking with anticipation as he said, "I love you. So much. The last year with you has been magical, and I want to be here forever."

You glanced at Ellie, and she was all bright smiles as she bounced up and down as you opened the box. "Oh," you gasped, because it was the prettiest pink ring. And it did match her necklace.

When you looked up from the box and met his eyes, he asked you something that you already knew the answer to. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes!"

You held the box tight as he stood and spun you around the room in his arms, his soft laughter filling your heart as Ellie loudly cheered, "I asked Santa for a husband for my mom!"

You laughed as Bradley smothered your face in kisses, and then he pulled the ring free before tossing the box aside. As he slid the rose gold and pink diamond ring onto your finger, he grinned and said, "Santa never disappoints."

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

Happy holidays! I hope Santa Bradley brings you everything from your wishlist! Thanks @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger @cherrycola27

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[embersareout9]

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE ALL YOU LITTLE FUCKS

Anyway here's just an idea i had about the dagger ducklings and mavdad/Icepops. I feel like Ice prefers Christmas Eve to Christmas day. (I really really like the idea of Ice being Jewish and celebrating both Hanukkah and Christmas). Christmas Eve is when all of the ducklings (And flyboys) come over for a Christmas eve dinner. Ice cooks (obviously), and Mav gets in the way (again, obviously), and nobody would have it any other way. They always watch Charlie Brown Christmas, and Mav keeps trying to get them to watch Die Hard (because "Iceeeee it takes place during Christmas how is it not a Christmas movie). This has been a years-long debate in the Mitchell-Kazansky House. (For the record, Mav, Bradley, Pheonix, Fanboy, and Omaha are staunchly on the side arguing that is it, Everyone else does not agree).

They also exchange presents, because not all of the daggers will stay for Christmas day. (Mav gives the most elaborate presents)